Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Bene. Yet
Bene. Much adoe about Nothing.
Bene. Yet, by mine honor, I will deale in this,
Bene. As secretly and iustlie, as your soule
Bene. Should with your bodie.
Leon. Leon.
Leon. Being that I flow in greefe,
Leon. The smallest twine may lead me.
Frier. Frier.
Frier. 'Tis well consented, presently away,
Frier. For to strange sores, strangely they straine the cure,
Frier. Come Lady, die to liue, this wedding day
Frier. Perhaps is but prolong'd, haue patience & endure.
Frier. Exit.
Bene. Bene.
Bene. Lady Beatrice, haue you wept all this while?
Beat. Beat.
Beat. Yea, and I will weepe a while longer.
Bene. I will not desire that.