Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Quee. Quee.
Quee. We are wise girles to mocke our Louers so.
Ros. Ros.
Ros. They are worse fooles to purchase mocking so.
Ros. That same Berowne ile torture ere I goe.
Ros. O that I knew he were but in by th' weeke,
Ros. How I would make him fawne, and begge, and seeke,
Ros. And wait the season, and obserue the times,
Ros. And spend his prodigall wits in booteles rimes,
Ros. And shape his seruice wholly to my deuice,
Ros. And make him proud to make me proud that iests.
Ros. So pertaunt like would I o'resway his state,
Ros. That he shold be my foole, and I his fate
Qu. Qu.
Qu. None are so surely caught, when they are catcht,
Qu. As Wit turn'd foole, follie in Wisedome hatch'd:
Qu. Hath wisedoms warrant, and the helpe of Schoole,
Qu. And Wits owne grace to grace a learned Foole?
Ros. The bloud of youth burns not with such excesse,