Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Diom. Our blouds are now in calme; and so long health:
Diom. But when contention, and occasion meetes,
Diom. By Ioue, Ile play the hunter for thy life,
Diom. With all my force, pursuite and pollicy.
Æne. Æne.
Æne. And thou shalt hunt a Lyon that will flye
Æne. With his face backward, in humaine gentlenesse:
Æne. Welcome to Troy; now by Anchises life,
Æne. Welcome indeede; by Venus hand I sweare,
Æne. No man aliue can loue in such a sort,
Æne. The thing he meanes to kill, more excellently.
Diom. Diom.
Diom. We simpathize. Ioue let Æneas liue
Diom. (If to my sword his fate be not the glory)
Diom. A thousand compleate courses of the Sunne,
Diom. But in mine emulous honor let him dye:
Diom. With euery ioynt a wound, and that to morrow.
Æne. We know each other well.
Dio. Dio.