Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Prin. To smother vp his Beauty from the world,
Prin. That when he please againe to be himselfe,
Prin. Being wanted, he may be more wondred at,
Prin. By breaking through the foule and vgly mists
Prin. Of vapours, that did seeme to strangle him.
Prin. If all the yeare were playing holidaies,
Prin. To sport, would be as tedious as to worke;
Prin. But when they seldome come, they wisht‑for come,
Prin. And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
Prin. So when this loose behauiour I throw off,
Prin. And pay the debt I neuer promised;
Prin. By how much better then my word I am,
Prin. By so much shall I falsifie mens hopes,
Prin. And like bright Mettall on a sullen ground:
Prin. My reformation glittering o're my fault,
Prin. Shall shew more goodly, and attract more eyes,
Prin. Then that which hath no soyle to set it off.
Prin. Ile so offend, to make offence a skill,
Prin. Redeeming time, when men thinke least I will.
Prin. Scœna Tertia.