Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Fal. I am glad, though you haue tane a special stand
Fal. to strike at me, that your Arrow hath glanc'd.
Page. Page.
Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heauen giue thee
Page. ioy, what cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd.
Fal. Fal.
Fal. When night‑dogges run, all sorts of Deere are
Fal. chac'd.
Mist.Page. Mist.Page.
Mist.Page. Well, I will muse no further: Mr Fenton,
Mist.Page. Heauen giue you many, many merry dayes:
Mist.Page. Good husband, let vs euery one go home,
Mist.Page. And laugh this sport ore by a Countrie fire,
Mist.Page. Sir Iohn and all.
Ford. Ford.
Ford. Let it be so (Sir Iohn:)
Ford. To Master Broome, you yet shall hold your word,
Ford. For he, to night, shall lye with Mistris Ford:
Ford. Exeunt
Ford. FINIS.