Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Her. I must be patient, till the Heauens looke
Her. With an aspect more fauorable. Good my Lords,
Her. I am not prone to weeping (as our Sex
Her. Commonly are) the want of which vaine dew
Her. Perchance shall dry your pitties: but I haue
Her. That honorable Griefe lodg’d here, which burnes
Her. Worse then Teares drowne: 'beseech you all (my Lords)
Her. With thoughts so qualified, as your Charities
Her. Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so
Her. The Kings will be perform’d.
Leo. Leo.
Leo. Shall I be heard?
Her. Her.
Her. Who is’t that goes with me? 'beseech your Highnes
Her. My Women may be with me, for you see
Her. My plight requires it. Doe not weepe (good Fooles)
Her. There is no cause: When you shall know your Mistris
Her. Ha’s deseru’d Prison, then abound in Teares,
Her. As I come out; this Action I now goe on,
Her. Is for my better grace. Adieu (my Lord)