Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Fri. A gentler iudgement vanisht from his lips,
Fri. Not bodies death, but bodies banishment.
Rom. Rom.
Rom. Ha, banishment? be mercifull, say death:
Rom. For exile hath more terror in his looke,
Rom. Much more then death: do not say banishment.
Fri. Fri.
Fri. Here from Verona art thou banished:
Fri. Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
Rom. There is no world without Verona walles,
Rom. But Purgatorie, Torture, hell it selfe:
Rom. Hence banished, is banisht from the world,
Rom. And worlds exile is death. Then banished,
Rom. Is death, mistearm'd, calling death banished,
Rom. Thou cut'st my head off with a golden Axe,
Rom. And smilest vpon the stroke that murders me.
Fri. O deadly sin, O rude vnthankefulnesse!
Fri. Thy falt our Law calles death, but the kind Prince