Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Mo. Heauen blesse him: Farwell Bertram.
Ro. Ro.
Ro. The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoghts
Ro. be seruants to you: be comfortable to my mother, your
Ro. Mistris, and make much of her.
Laf. Laf.
Laf. Farewell prettie Lady, you must hold the cre
Laf. dit of your father.
Hell. Hell.
Hell. O were that all, I thinke not on my father,
Hell. And these great teares grace his remembrance more
Hell. Then those I shed for him. What was he like?
Hell. I haue forgott him. My imagination
Hell. Carries no fauour in't but Bertrams.
Hell. I am vndone, there is no liuing, none,
Hell. If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one,
Hell. That I should loue a bright particuler starre,
Hell. And think to wed it, he is so aboue me
Hell. In his bright radience and colaterall light,
Hell. Must