Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Vlis. Which hath an operation more diuine,
Vlis. Then breath or pen can giue expressure to:
Vlis. All the commerse that you haue had with Troy,
Vlis. As perfectly is ours, as yours, my Lord.
Vlis. And better would it fit Achilles much,
Vlis. To throw downe Hector then Polixena.
Vlis. But it must grieue yong Pirhus now at home,
Vlis. When fame shall in her Iland sound her trumpe;
Vlis. And all the Greekish Girles shall tripping sing,
Vlis. Great Hectors sister did Achilles winne;
Vlis. But our great Aiax brauely beate downe him.
Vlis. Farewell my Lord: I as your louer speake;
Vlis. The foole slides ore the Ice that you should breake.
Patr. Patr.
Patr. To this effect Achilles haue I mou'd you;
Patr. A woman impudent and mannish growne,
Patr. Is not more loth'd, then an effeminate man,
Patr. In time of action: I stand condemn'd for this;
Patr. They thinke my little stomacke to the warre,
Patr. And your great loue to me, restraines you thus: