Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Ti. What foole hath added water to the Sea?
Ti. Or brought a faggot to bright burning Troy?
Ti. My griefe was at the height before thou cam'st,
Ti. And now like Nylus it disdaineth bounds:
Ti. Giue me a sword, Ile chop off my hands too,
Ti. For they haue fought for Rome, and all in vaine:
Ti. And they haue nur'st this woe,
Ti. In feeding life:
Ti. In bootelesse prayer haue they bene held vp,
Ti. And they haue seru'd me to effectlesse vse.
Ti. Now all the seruice I require of them,
Ti. Is that the one will helpe to cut the other:
Ti. 'Tis well Lauinia, that thou hast no hands,
Ti. For hands to do Rome seruice, is but vaine.
Luci. Luci.
Luci. Speake gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee?
Mar. Mar.
Mar. O that delightfull engine of her thoughts,
Mar. That blab'd them with such pleasing eloquence,
Mar. Is torne from forth that pretty hollow cage,