Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Mo. Is spotlesse reputation: that away,
Mo. Men are but gilded loame, or painted clay.
Mo. A Iewell in a ten times barr'd vp Chest,
Mo. Is a bold spirit, in a loyall brest.
Mo. Mine Honor is my life; both grow in one:
Mo. Take Honor from me, and my life is done.
Mo. Then (deere my Liege) mine Honor let me trie,
Mo. In that I liue; and for that will I die.
King. King.
King. Coosin, throw downe your gage,
King. Do you begin.
Bul. Bul.
Bul. Oh heauen defend my soule from such foule sin.
Bul. Shall I seeme Crest‑falne in my fathers sight,
Bul. Or with pale beggar‑feare impeach my hight
Bul. Before this out‑dar'd dastard? Ere my toong,
Bul. Shall wound mine honor with such feeble wrong;
Bul. Or sound so base a parle: my teeth shall teare
Bul. The slauish motiue of recanting feare,
Bul. And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace,