Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Gent. of that: Heauen knowes what she ha's knowne.
La. La.
La. Heere's the smell of the blood still: all the per
La. fumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.
La. Oh, oh, oh.
Doct. Doct.
Doct. What a sigh is there? The hart is sorely charg'd.
Gent. Gent.
Gent. I would not haue such a heart in my bosome,
Gent. for the dignity of the whole body.
Doct. Well, well, well.
Gent. Pray God it be sir.
Doct. This disease is beyond my practise: yet I haue
Doct. knowne those which haue walkt in their sleep, who haue
Doct. dyed holily in their beds.
Lad. Lad.
Lad. Wash your hands, put on your Night‑Gowne,