Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Imo. Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd
Imo. Beyond selfe‑explication. Put thy selfe
Imo. Into a hauiour of lesse feare, ere wildnesse
Imo. Vanquish my stayder Senses. What's the matter?
Imo. Why render'st thou that Paper to me, with
Imo. A looke vntender? If't be Summer Newes
Imo. Smile too't before: if Winterly, thou need'st
Imo. But keepe that count'nance stil. My Husbands hand?
Imo. That Drug‑damn'd Italy, hath out‑craftied him,
Imo. And hee's at some hard point. Speake man, thy Tongue
Imo. May take off some extreamitie, which to reade
Imo. Would be euen mortall to me.
Pis. Pis.
Pis. Please you reade,
Pis. And you shall finde me (wretched man) a thing
Pis. The most disdain'd of Fortune.
Imogen Imogen
Imogen reades.
Imogen THy Mistris (Pisanio) hath plaide the Strumpet in my
Imogen Bed: the Testimonies whereof, lyes bleeding in me. I speak