Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Fri. Holy S. Saint Francis, what a change is heere?
Fri. Is Rosaline that thou didst Loue so deare
Fri. So soone forsaken? young mens Loue then lies
Fri. Not truely in their hearts, but in their eyes.
Fri. Iesu Maria, what a deale of brine
Fri. Hath washt thy sallow cheekes for Rosaline?
Fri. How much salt water throwne away in wast,
Fri. To season Loue that of it doth not tast.
Fri. The Sun not yet thy sighes, from heauen cleares,
Fri. Thy old grones yet ringing in my auncient eares:
Fri. Lo here vpon thy cheeke the staine doth sit,
Fri. Of an old teare that is not washt off yet.
Fri. If ere thou wast thy selfe, and these woes thine,
Fri. Thou and these woes, were all for Rosaline.
Fri. And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence then,
Fri. Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.
Rom. Rom.
Rom. Thou chid'st me oft for louing Rosaline.
Fri. Fri.
Fri. For doting, not for louing pupill mine.