Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Cal. Cal.
Cal. Yea, yea my Lord, Ile yeeld him thee asleepe,
Cal. Where thou maist knocke a naile into his head.
Ariell. Ariell.
Ariell. Thou liest, thou canst not.
Cal. What a py'de Ninnie's this? Thou scuruy patch:
Cal. I do beseech thy Greatnesse giue him blowes,
Cal. And take his bottle from him: When that's gone,
Cal. He shall drinke nought but brine, for Ile not shew him
Cal. Where the quicke Freshes are.
Ste. Ste.
Ste. Trinculo, run into no further danger:
Ste. Interrupt the Monster one word further, and by this
Ste. hand, Ile turne my mercie out o' doores, and make a
Ste. Stockfish of thee.
Trin. Trin.
Trin. Why, what did I? I did nothing:
Trin. Ile go farther off.