Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Lou. The lag end of their lewdnesse, and be laugh'd at.
L. San. L. San.
L. San. Tis time to giue 'em Physicke, their diseases
L. San. Are growne so catching.
L. Cham. L. Cham.
L. Cham. What a losse our Ladies
L. Cham. Will haue of these trim vanities?
Louell. Louell.
Louell. I marry,
Louell. There will be woe indeed Lords, the slye whorsons
Louell. Haue got a speeding tricke to lay downe Ladies:
Louell. A French Song, and a Fiddle, ha's no Fellow.
L. San. The Diuell fiddle 'em,
L. San. I am glad they are going,
L. San. For sure there's no conuerting of 'em: now
L. San. An honest Country Lord as I am, beaten
L. San. A long time out of play, may bring his plaine song,
L. San. And haue an houre of hearing, and by'r Lady
L. San. Held currant Musicke too.