Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Mal. Mal.
Mal. Come sir, you peeuishly threw it to her: and
Mal. her will is, it should be so return'd: If it bee worth stoo
Mal. ping for, there it lies, in your eye: if not, bee it his that
Mal. findes it.
Mal. Exit.
Vio. Vio.
Vio. I left no Ring with her: what meanes this Lady?
Vio. Fortune forbid my out‑side haue not charm'd her:
Vio. She made good view of me, indeed so much,
Vio. That me thought her eyes had lost her tongue,
Vio. For she did speake in starts distractedly.
Vio. She loues me sure, the cunning of her passion
Vio. Inuites me in this churlish messenger:
Vio. None of my Lords Ring? Why he sent her none;
Vio. I am the man, if it be so, as tis,
Vio. Poore Lady, she were better loue a dreame:
Vio. Disguise, I see thou art a wickednesse,
Vio. Wherein the pregnant enemie does much.
Vio. How easie is it, for the proper false