Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Oth. I haue a salt and sorry Rhewme offends me:
Oth. Lend me thy Handkerchiefe.
Des. Des.
Des. Heere my Lord.
Oth. Oth.
Oth. That which I gaue you.
Des. I haue it not about me.
Oth. Not?
Des. No indeed, my Lord.
Oth. That's a fault: That Handkerchiefe
Oth. Did an Ægyptian to my Mother giue:
Oth. She was a Charmer, and could almost read
Oth. The thoughts of people. She told her, while she kept it,
Oth. 'T would make her Amiable, and subdue my Father
Oth. Intirely to her loue: But if she lost it,
Oth. Or made a Guift of it, my Fathers eye