Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Æmil. Thou hast not halfe that powre to do me harm,
Æmil. As I haue to be hurt. Oh Gull, oh dolt,
Æmil. As ignorant as durt: thou hast done a deed
Æmil. (I care not for thy Sword) Ile make thee known,
Æmil. Though I lost twenty liues. Helpe, helpe, hoa, helpe:
Æmil. The Moore hath kill'd my Mistris. Murther, murther.
Æmil. Enter Montano, Gratiano, and Iago.
Mon. Mon.
Mon. What is the matter? How now Generall?
Æmil. Æmil.
Æmil. Oh, are you come, Iago: you haue done well,
Æmil. That men must lay their Murthers on your necke.
Gra. Gra.
Gra. What is the matter?
Æmil. Disproue this Villaine, if thou bee'st a man:
Æmil. He sayes, thou told'st him that his wife was false:
Æmil. I know thou did'st not: thou'rt not such a Villain.
Æmil. Speake, for my heart is full.
Iago. Iago.