Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Aron. And you must needs bestow her funerall,
Aron. The fields are neere, and you are gallant Groomes:
Aron. This done, see that you take no longer daies
Aron. But send the Midwife presently to me.
Aron. The Midwife and the Nurse well made away,
Aron. Then let the Ladies tattle what they please.
Chi. Chi.
Chi. Aaron I see thou wilt not trust the ayre with secrets.
Deme. Deme.
Deme. For this care of Tamora, (crets.
Deme. Her selfe, and hers are highly bound to thee.
Deme. Exeunt
Aron. Aron.
Aron. Now to the Gothes, as swift as Swallow flies,
Aron. There to dispose this treasure in mine armes,
Aron. And secretly to greete the Empresse friends:
Aron. Come on you thick‑lipt‑slaue, Ile beare you hence,
Aron. For it is you that puts vs to our shifts:
Aron. Ile make you feed on berries, and on rootes,
Aron. And feed on curds and whay, and sucke the Goate,