Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Othe. I heere looke grim as hell.
Des. Des.
Des. I hope my Noble Lord esteemes me honest.
Othe. Othe.
Othe. Oh I, as Sommer Flyes are in the Shambles,
Othe. That quicken euen with blowing. Oh thou weed:
Othe. Who art so louely faire, and smell'st so sweete,
Othe. That the Sense akes at thee,
Othe. Would thou had'st neuer bin borne.
Des. Alas, what ignorant sin haue I committed?
Othe. Was this faire Paper? This most goodly Booke
Othe. Made to write Whore vpon? What commited,
Othe. vv2
Othe. Com.
Othe. The Tragedie of Othello
Othe. Committed? Oh, thou publicke Commoner,
Othe. I should make very Forges of my cheekes,
Othe. That would to Cynders burne vp Modestie,