Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Fal. Moone, vnder whose countenance we steale.
Prin. Prin.
Prin. Thou say'st well, and it holds well too; for the
Prin. fortune of vs that are the Moones men, doeth ebbe and
Prin. flow like the Sea, being gouerned as the Sea is, by the
Prin. Moone: as for proofe. Now a Purse of Gold most reso
Prin. lutely snatch'd on Monday night and most dissolutely
Prin. spent on Tuesday Morning; got with swearing, Lay by:
Prin. and spent with crying, Bring in: now, in as low an ebbe
Prin. as the foot of the Ladder, and by and by in as high a flow
Prin. as the ridge of the Gallowes.
Fal. Fal.
Fal. Thou say'st true Lad: and is not my Hostesse of
Fal. the Tauerne a most sweet Wench?
Prin. As the honey, my old Lad of the Castle: and is
Prin. not a Buffe Ierkin a most sweet robe of durance?
Fal. How now? how now mad Wagge? What in thy
Fal. quips and thy quiddities? What a plague haue I to doe