Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Her. Could not a worme, an Adder do so much?
Her. An Adder did it: for with doubler tongue
Her. Then thine (thou serpent) neuer Adder stung.
Dem. Dem.
Dem. You spend your passion on a mispri'sdmispris'd mood,
Dem. I am not guiltie of Lysanders blood:
Dem. Nor is he dead for ought that I can tell.
Her. Her.
Her. I pray thee tell me then that he is well.
Dem. And if I could, what should I get therefore?
Her. A priuiledge, neuer to see me more;
Her. And from thy hated presence part I: see me no more
Her. Whether he be dead or no.
Her. Exit.
Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vaine,
Dem. Here therefore for a while I will remaine.
Dem. So sorrowes heauinesse doth heauier grow: