Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Luc. And spare no blood beside.
Cym. Cym.
Cym. I haue surely seene him:
Cym. His fauour is familiar to me: Boy,
Cym. Thou hast look'd thy selfe into my grace,
Cym. And art mine owne. I know not why, wherefore,
Cym. To say, liue boy: ne're thanke thy Master, liue;
Cym. And aske of Cymbeline what Boone thou wilt,
Cym. Fitting my bounty, and thy state, Ile giue it:
Cym. Y
Cym. The Tragedy of Cymbeline.
Cym. Yea, though thou do demand a Prisoner
Cym. The Noblest tane.
Imo. Imo.
Imo. I humbly thanke your Highnesse.
Luc. Luc.
Luc. I do not bid thee begge my life, good Lad,
Luc. And yet I know thou wilt.
Imo. No, no, alacke,