Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Bel. And keepe their impious Turbonds on, without
Bel. Good morrow to the Sun. Haile thou faire Heauen,
Bel. We house i'th'Rocke, yet vse thee not so hardly
Bel. As prouder liuers do.
Guid. Guid.
Guid. Haile Heauen.
Aruir. Aruir.
Aruir. Haile Heauen.
Bela. Bela.
Bela. Now for our Mountaine sport, vp to yond hill
Bela. Your legges are yong: Ile tread these Flats. Consider,
Bela. When you aboue perceiue me like a Crow,
Bela. That it is Place, which lessen's, and sets off,
Bela. And you may then reuolue what Tales, I haue told you,
Bela. Of Courts, of Princes; of the Tricks in Warre.
Bela. This Seruice, is not Seruice; so being done,
Bela. But being so allowed. To apprehend thus,
Bela. Drawes vs a profit from all things we see:
Bela. And often to our comfort, shall we finde
Bela. The sharded‑Beetle, in a safer hold