Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Kin. I ha't: when in your motion you are hot and dry,
Kin. As make your bowts more violent to the end,
Kin. And that he cals for drinke; Ile haue prepar'd him
Kin. A Challice for the nonce; whereon but sipping,
Kin. If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck,
Kin. Our purpose may hold there; how sweet Queene.
Kin. Enter Queene.
Queen. Queen.
Queen. One woe doth tread vpon anothers heele,
Queen. So fast they'l follow: your Sister's drown'd Laertes.
Laer. Laer.
Laer. Drown'd! O where?
Queen. There is a Willow growes aslant a Brooke,
Queen. That shewes his hore leaues in the glassie streame:
Queen. There with fantasticke Garlands did she come,
Queen. Of Crow‑flowers, Nettles, Daysies, and long Purples,
Queen. That liberall Shepheards giue a grosser name;
Queen. But our cold Maids doe Dead Mens Fingers call them:
Queen. There on the pendant boughes, her Coronet weeds