Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Pol. Wor.
Pol. The Winters Tale.
Pol. Worthy enough a Heardsman: yea him too,
Pol. That makes himselfe (but for our Honor therein)
Pol. Vnworthy thee. If euer henceforth, thou
Pol. These rurall Latches, to his entrance open,
Pol. Or hope his body more, with thy embraces,
Pol. I will deuise a death, as cruell for thee
Pol. As thou art tender to’t.
Pol. Exit.
Perd. Perd.
Perd. Euen heere vndone:
Perd. I was not much a‑fear’d: for once, or twice
Perd. I was about to speake, and tell him plainely,
Perd. The selfe‑same Sun, that shines vpon his Court,
Perd. Hides not his visage from our Cottage, but
Perd. Lookes on alike. Wilt please you (Sir) be gone?
Perd. I told you what would come of this: Beseech you
Perd. Of your owne state take care: This dreame of mine
Perd. Being now awake, Ile Queene it no inch farther,