Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Nor. His tongue is now a stringlesse instrument,
York. Now Prisoner to the Palsie, chastise thee,
Yorke. Ascend his Throne, descending now from him,
Yorke. To Bullingbrooke, are we sworne Subiects now,
Cur. Now out of doubt Antipholus is mad,
Their warlike frautage: now on Dardan Plaines
Æne. Now heauens forbid such scarsitie of youth.
Achil. How now Thersites? what's the matter man?
Troy. And cride inestimable; why do you now
Cal. To giue me now a little benefit:
Achil. Ile interrupt his reading: how now Vlisses?
Æne. Welcome to Troy; now by Anchises life,
Troy. Iniurious time; now with a robbers haste
Patro. But that's no argument for kissing now;
Vlys. I wonder now, how yonder City stands,
Ther. Why his masculine Whore. Now the rotten
Cres. But now you haue it, take it.
Achil. My rest and negligence befriends thee now,
Bru. Now good Metellus go along by him:
Cai. My mortified Spirit. Now bid me runne,