Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Prin. But let my fauours hide thy mangled face,
Prin. And euen in thy behalfe, Ile thanke my selfe
Prin. For doing these fayre Rites of Tendernesse.
Prin. Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heauen,
Prin. Thy ignomy sleepe with thee in the graue,
Prin. But not remembred in thy Epitaph.
Prin. What? Old Acquaintance? Could not all this flesh
Prin. Keepe in a little life? Poore Iacke, farewell:
Prin. I could haue better spar'd a better man.
Prin. O, I should haue a heauy misse of thee,
Prin. If I were much in loue with Vanity.
Prin. Death hath not strucke so fat a Deere to day,
Prin. Though many dearer in this bloody Fray:
Prin. Imbowell'd will I see thee by and by,
Prin. Till then, in blood, by Noble Percie lye.
Prin. Exit.
Prin. Falstaffe riseth vp.
Falst. Falst.
Falst. Imbowell'd? if thou imbowell mee to day, Ile
Falst. giue you leaue to powder me, and eat me too to morrow.