Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Leon. Leon.
Leon. Confirm'd, confirm'd, O that is stronger made
Leon. Which was before barr'd vp with ribs of iron.
Leon. Would the Princes lie, and Claudio lie,
Leon. Who lou'd her so, that speaking of her foulnesse,
Leon. Wash'd it with teares? Hence from her, let her die.
Fri. Fri.
Fri. Heare me a little, for I haue onely bene silent so
Fri. long, and giuen way vnto this course of fortune, by no
Fri. ting of the Ladie, I haue markt.
Fri. A thousand blushing apparitions,
Fri. To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames,
Fri. In Angel whitenesse beare away those blushes,
Fri. And in her eie there hath appear'd a fire
Fri. To burne the errors that these Princes hold
Fri. Against her maiden truth. Call me a foole,
Fri. Trust not my reading, nor my obseruations,
Fri. Which with experimental seàle doth warrant
Fri. The tenure of my booke: trust not my age,
Fri. My reuerence, calling, nor diuinitie,