Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Val. I Protheus, but that life is alter'd now,
Val. I haue done pennance for contemning Loue,
Val. Whose high emperious thoughts haue punish'd me
Val. With bitter fasts, with penitentiall grones,
Val. With nightly teares, and daily hart‑sore sighes,
Val. For in reuenge of my contempt of loue,
Val. Loue hath chas'd sleepe from my enthralled eyes,
Val. And made them watchers of mine owne hearts sorrow.
Val. O gentle Protheus, Loue's a mighty Lord,
Val. And hath so humbled me, as I confesse
Val. There is no woe to his correction,
Val. Nor to his Seruice, no such ioy on earth:
Val. Now, no discourse, except it be of loue:
Val. Now can I breake my fast, dine, sup, and sleepe,
Val. Vpon the very naked name of Loue.
Pro. Pro.
Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye:
Pro. Was this the Idoll, that you worship so?
Val. Val.
Val. Euen She; and is she not a heauenly Saint?