Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Rom. The world affords no law to make thee rich.
Rom. Then be not poore, but breake it, and take this.
App. App.
App. My pouerty, but not my will consents.
Rom. Rom.
Rom. I pray thy pouerty, and not thy will.
App. Put this in any liquid thing you will
App. And drinke it off, and if you had the strength
App. Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
Rom. There's thy Gold,
Rom. Worse poyson to mens soules,
Rom. Doing more murther in this loathsome world,
Rom. Then these poore compounds that thou maiest not sell.
Rom. I sell thee poyson, thou hast sold me none,
Rom. Farewell, buy food, and get thy selfe in flesh.
Rom. Come Cordiall, and not poyson, go with me
Rom. To Iuliets graue, for there must I vse thee.
Rom. Exeunt.