Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Tib. Now seeming sweet, conuert to bitter gall.
Tib. Exit.
Rom. Rom.
Rom. If I prophane with my vnworthiest hand,
Rom. This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this,
Rom. My lips to blushing Pilgrims did ready stand,
Rom. To smooth that rough touch, with a tender kisse.
Iul. Iul.
Iul. Good Pilgrime,
Iul. You do wrong your hand too much.
Iul. Which mannerly deuotion shewes in this,
Iul. For Saints haue hands, that Pilgrims hands do tuch,
Iul. And palme to palme, is holy Palmers kisse.
Rom. Haue not Saints lips, and holy Palmers too?
Iul. I Pilgrim, lips that they must vse in prayer.
Rom. O then deare Saint, let lips do what hands do,
Rom. They pray (grant thou) least faith turne to dispaire.