Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Aum. but to the next high way, and there I left him.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. And say, what store of parting tears were shed?
Aum. Aum.
Aum. Faith none for me: except the Northeast wind
Aum. Which then grew bitterly against our face,
Aum. Awak'd the sleepie rhewme, and so by chance
Aum. Did grace our hollow parting with a teare.
Rich. What said our Cosin when you parted with him?
Au. Au.
Au. Farewell: and for my hart disdained yt my tongue
Au. Should so prophane the word, that taught me craft
Au. To counterfeit oppression of such greefe,
Au. That word seem'd buried in my sorrowes graue.
Au. Marry, would the word Farwell, haue lengthen'd houres,
Au. And added yeeres to his short banishment,
Au. He should haue had a volume of Farwels,
Au. but since it would not, he had none of me.