Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Othe. If after euery Tempest, come such Calmes,
Othe. May the windes blow, till they haue waken'd death:
Othe. And let the labouring Barke climbe hills of Seas
Othe. Olympus high: and duck againe as low,
Othe. As hell's from Heauen. If it were now to dye,
Othe. 'Twere now to be most happy. For I feare,
Othe. My Soule hath her content so absolute,
Othe. That not another comfort like to this,
Othe. Succeedes in vnknowne Fate.
Des. Des.
Des. The Heauens forbid
Des. But that our Loues
Des. And Comforts should increase
Des. Euen as our dayes do grow.
Othe. Othe.
Othe. Amen to that (sweet Powers)
Othe. I cannot speake enough of this content,
Othe. It stoppes me heere: it is too much of ioy.
Othe. And this, and this the greatest discords be
Othe. That ere our hearts shall make.