Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Volum. More learned then the eares, wauing thy head,
Volum. Which often thus correcting thy stout heart,
Volum. Now humble as the ripest Mulberry,
Volum. That will not hold the handling: or say to them,
Volum. Thou art their Souldier, and being bred in broyles,
Volum. Hast not the soft way, which thou do'st confesse
Volum. Were fit for thee to vse, as they to clayme,
Volum. In asking their good loues, but thou wilt frame
Volum. Thy selfe (forsooth) hereafter theirs so farre,
Volum. As thou hast power and person.
Menen. Menen.
Menen. This but done,
Menen. Euen as she speakes, why their hearts were yours:
Menen. For they haue Pardons, being ask'd, as free,
Menen. As words to little purpose.
Volum. Volum.
Volum. Prythee now,
Volum. Goe, and be rul'd: although I know thou hadst rather
Volum. Follow thine Enemie in a fierie Gulfe,
Volum. Then flatter him in a Bower.