Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Rom. Armes take your last embrace: And lips, O you
Rom. The doores of breath, seale with a righteous kisse
Rom. A datelesse bargaine to ingrossing death:
Rom. Come bitter conduct, come vnsauory guide,
Rom. Thou desperate Pilot, now at once run on
Rom. The dashing Rocks, thy Sea‑sicke wearie Barke:
Rom. Heere's to my Loue. O true Appothecary:
Rom. gg2
Rom. Thy
Rom. The Tragedie of Romeo and Iuliet.
Rom. Thy drugs are quicke. Thus with a kisse I die.
Rom. Enter Frier with a Lanthorne, Crow, and Spade.
Fri. Fri.
Fri. St. Saint Francis be my speed, how oft to night
Fri. Haue my old feet stumbled at graues? Who's there?
Man. Man.
Man. Here's one, a Friend, & one that knowes you well.
Fri. Blisse be vpon you. Tell me good my Friend
Fri. What Torch is yond that vainely lends his light