Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Glou. Glou.
Glou. Here take this purse, y whom the heau'ns plagues
Glou. Haue humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched
Glou. Makes thee the happier: Heauens deale so still:
Glou. Let the superfluous, and Lust‐dieted man,
Glou. That slaues your ordinance, that will not see
Glou. Because he do's not feele, feele your powre quickly:
Glou. So distribution should vndoo excesse,
Glou. And each man haue enough. Dost thou know Douer?
Edg. Edg.
Edg. I Master.
Glou. There is a Cliffe, whose high and bending head
Glou. Lookes fearfully in the confined Deepe:
Glou. Bring me but to the very brimme of it,
Glou. And Ile repayre the misery thou do'st beare
Glou. With something rich about me: from that place,
Glou. I shall no leading neede.
Edg. Giue me thy arme;