Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Iul. My words would bandy her to my sweete Loue,
Iul. And his to me, but old folkes,
Iul. Many faine as they were dead,
Iul. Vnwieldie, slow, heauy, and pale as lead.
Iul. Enter Nurse.
Iul. O God she comes, O hony Nurse what newes?
Iul. Hast thou met with him? send thy man away.
Nur. Nur.
Nur. Peter stay at the gate.
Iul. Iul.
Iul. Now good sweet Nurse:
Iul. O Lord, why lookest thou sad?
Iul. Though newes, be sad, yet tell them merrily.
Iul. If good thou sham'st the musicke of sweet newes,
Iul. By playing it to me, with so sower a face.
Nur. I am a weary, giue me leaue awhile,
Nur. Fie how my bones ake, what a iaunt haue I had?
Iul. I would thou had'st my bones, and I thy newes: