Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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King. But orderly to end, where I begun,
King. Our Willes and Fates do so contrary run,
King. That our Deuices still are ouerthrowne,
King. Our thoughts are ours, their ends, none of our owne.
King. So thinke thou wilt no second Husband wed.
King. But die thy thoughts, when thy first Lord is dead.
Bap. Bap.
Bap. Nor Earth to giue me food, not Heauen light,
Bap. Sport and repose locke from me day and night:
Bap. Each opposite that blankes the face of ioy,
Bap. Meet what I would haue well, and it destroy:
Bap. Both heere, and hence, pursue me lasting strife,
Bap. If once a Widdow, euer I be Wife.
Ham. Ham.
Ham. If she should breake it now.
King. King.
King. 'Tis deepely sworne:
King. Sweet, leaue me heere a while,
King. My spirits grow dull, and faine I would beguile
King. The tedious day with sleepe.