Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Vrs. Is couched in the wood‑bine couerture,
Vrs. Feare you not my part of the Dialogue.
Her. Her.
Her. Then go we neare her that her eare loose nothing,
Her. Of the false sweete baite that we lay for it:
Her. No truely Vrsula, she is too disdainfull,
Her. I know her spirits are as coy and wilde,
Her. As Haggerds of the rocke.
Vrsula. Vrsula.
Vrsula. But are you sure,
Vrsula. That Benedicke loues Beatrice so intirely?
Her. So saies the Prince, and my new trothed Lord.
Vrs. Vrs.
Vrs. And did they bid you tell her of it, Madam?
Her. They did intreate me to acquaint her of it,
Her. But I perswaded them, if they lou'd Benedicke,
Her. K
Her. To