Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Ol. Cou. Yet I expresse to you a mothers care,
Ol. Cou. (Gods mercie maiden) dos it curd thy blood
Ol. Cou. To say I am thy mother? vvhat's the matter,
Ol. Cou. That this distempered messenger of wet?
Ol. Cou. V3
Ol. Cou. The
Ol. Cou. All's Well that Ends Well.
Ol. Cou. The manie colour'd Iris rounds thine eye?
Ol. Cou. ⸺Why, that you are my daughter?
Hell. Hell.
Hell. That I am not.
Old. Cou. Old. Cou.
Old. Cou. I say I am your Mother.
Hell. Pardon Madam.
Hell. The Count Rosillion cannot be my brother:
Hell. I am from humble, he from honored name:
Hell. No note vpon my Parents, his all noble,
Hell. My Master, my deere Lord he is, and I
Hell. His seruant liue, and will his vassall die: