Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Hel. Winke each at other, hold the sweete iest vp:
Hel. This sport well carried, shall be chronicled.
Hel. If you haue any pittie, grace, or manners,
Hel. You would not make me such an argument:
Hel. But fare ye well, 'tis partly mine owne fault,
Hel. Which death or absence soone shall remedie.
Lys. Lys.
Lys. Stay gentle Helena, heare my excuse,
Lys. My loue, my life, my soule, faire Helena.
Hel. Hel.
Hel. O excellent!
Her. Her.
Her. Sweete, do not scorne her so.
Dem. Dem.
Dem. If she cannot entreate, I can compell.
Lys. Thou canst compell, no more then she entreate.
Lys. Thy threats haue no more strength then her weak praise.
Lys. Helen, I loue thee, by my life I doe;
Lys. I sweare by that which I will lose for thee,