Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Gon. My Foole vsurpes my body.
Stew. Stew.
Stew. Madam, here come's my Lord.
Stew. Enter Albany.
Gon. Gon.
Gon. I haue beene worth the whistle.
Alb. Alb.
Alb. Oh Gonerill,
Alb. You are not worth the dust which the rude winde
Alb. Blowes in your face.
Gon. Milke‐Liuer'd man,
Gon. That bear'st a cheeke for blowes, a head for wrongs,
Gon. Who hast not in thy browes an eye‐discerning
Gon. Thine Honor, from thy sufferring.
Alb. See thy selfe diuell:
Alb. Proper deformitie seemes not in the Fiend
Alb. So horrid as in woman.