Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Pis. The Tragedie of Cymbeline.
Pis. Is falne into thy eare? What false Italian,
Pis. (As poysonous tongu'd, as handed) hath preuail'd
Pis. On thy too ready hearing? Disloyall? No.
Pis. She's punish'd for her Truth; and vndergoes
Pis. More Goddesse‑like, then Wife‑like; such Assaults
Pis. As would take in some Vertue. Oh my Master,
Pis. Thy mind to her, is now as lowe, as were
Pis. Thy Fortunes. How? That I should murther her,
Pis. Vpon the Loue, and Truth, and Vowes; which I
Pis. Haue made to thy command? I her? Her blood?
Pis. If it be so, to do good seruice, neuer
Pis. Let me be counted seruiceable. How looke I,
Pis. That I should seeme to lacke humanity,
Pis. So much as this Fact comes to? Doo't: The Letter.
Pis. That I haue sent her, by her owne command,
Pis. Shall giue thee opportunitie. Oh damn'd paper,
Pis. Blacke as the Inke that's on thee: senselesse bauble,
Pis. Art thou a Fœdarie for this Act; and look'st
Pis. So Virgin‑like without? Loe here she comes.