Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Des. If happely you my Father do suspect,
Des. An Instrument of this your calling backe,
Des. Lay not your blame on me: if you haue lost him,
Des. I haue lost him too.
Othe. Othe.
Othe. Had it pleas'd Heauen,
Othe. To try me with Affliction, had they rain'd
Othe. All kind of Sores, and Shames on my bare‑head:
Othe. Steep'd me in pouertie to the very lippes.
Othe. Giuen to Captiuitie, me, and my vtmost hopes,
Othe. I should haue found in some place of my Soule
Othe. A drop of patience. But alas, to make me
Othe. The fixed Figure for the time of Scorne,
Othe. To point his slow, and mouing finger at.
Othe. Yet could I beare that too, well, very well:
Othe. But there where I haue garnerd vp my heart,
Othe. Where either I must liue, or beare no life,
Othe. The Fountaine from the which my currant runnes,
Othe. Or else dries vp: to be discarded thence,
Othe. Or keepe it as a Cesterne, for foule Toades