Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Iago. Cry, oh sweet Creature: then kisse me hard,
Iago. As if he pluckt vp kisses by the rootes,
Iago. That grew vpon my lippes, laid his Leg ore my Thigh,
Iago. And sigh, and kisse, and then cry cursed Fate,
Iago. That gaue thee to the Moore.
Oth. Oth.
Oth. O monstrous! monstrous!
Iago. Iago.
Iago. Nay, this was but his Dreame.
Oth. But this denoted a fore‑gone conclusion,
Oth. 'Tis a shrew'd doubt, though it be but a Dreame.
Iago. And this may helpe to thicken other proofes,
Iago. That do demonstrate thinly.
Oth. Ile teare her all to peeces.
Iago. Nay yet be wise; yet we see nothing done,
Iago. She may be honest yet: Tell me but this,