Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Iul. And let the Nurse this night sit vp with you,
Iul. For I am sure, you haue your hands full all,
Iul. In this so sudden businesse.
Mo. Mo.
Mo. Goodnight.
Mo. Get thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need.
Mo. Exeunt.
Iul. Iul.
Iul. Farewell:
Iul. God knowes when we shall meete againe.
Iul. I haue a faint cold feare thrills through my veines,
Iul. That almost freezes vp the heate of fire:
Iul. Ile call them backe againe to comfort me.
Iul. Nurse, what should she do here?
Iul. My dismall Sceane, I needs must act alone:
Iul. Come Viall, what if this mixture do not worke at all?
Iul. Shall I be married then to morrow morning?
Iul. No, no, this shall forbid it. Lie thou there,
Iul. What if it be a poyson which the Frier
Iul. Subtilly hath ministred to haue me dead,