Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Iago. Infaith too much:
Iago. I finde it still, when I haue leaue to sleepe.
Iago. Marry before your Ladyship, I grant,
Iago. She puts her tongue a little in her heart,
Iago. And chides with thinking.
Æmil. Æmil.
Æmil. You haue little cause to say so.
Iago. Iago.
Iago. Come on, come on: you are Pictures out of
Iago. doore: Bells in your Parlours: Wilde‑Cats in your Kit
Iago. chens: Saints in your Iniuries: Diuels being offended:
Iago. Players in your Huswiferie, and Huswiues in your
Iago. Beds.
Des. Des.
Des. Oh, fie vpon thee, Slanderer.
Iago. Nay, it is true: or else I am a Turke,
Iago. You rise to play, and go to bed to worke.
Æmil. You shall not write my praise.