Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Stew. Returne so much, I haue shooke my head, and wept:
Stew. Yea 'gainst th'Authoritie of manners, pray'd you
Stew. To hold your hand more close: I did indure
Stew. Not sildome, nor no slight checkes, when I haue
Stew. Prompted you in the ebbe of your estate,
Stew. And your great flow of debts; my lou'd Lord,
Stew. Though you heare now (too late) yet nowes a time,
Stew. The greatest of your hauing, lackes a halfe,
Stew. To pay your present debts.
Tim. Tim.
Tim. Let all my Land be sold.
Stew. Stew.
Stew. 'Tis all engag'd, some forfeyted and gone,
Stew. And what remaines will hardly stop the mouth
Stew. Of present dues; the future comes apace:
Stew. What shall defend the interim, and at length
Stew. How goes our reck'ning?
Tim. To Lacedemon did my Land extend.