Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Frier. For to strange sores, strangely they straine the cure,
Frier. Come Lady, die to liue, this wedding day
Frier. Perhaps is but prolong'd, haue patience & endure.
Frier. Exit.
Bene. Bene.
Bene. Lady Beatrice, haue you wept all this while?
Beat. Beat.
Beat. Yea, and I will weepe a while longer.
Bene. I will not desire that.
Beat. You haue no reason, I doe it freely.
Bene. Surelie I do beleeue your fair cosin is wrong'd.
Beat. Ah, how much might the man deserue of mee
Beat. that would right her!
Bene. Is there any way to shew such friendship?