Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Imo. Thou then look'dst like a Villaine: now, me thinkes
Imo. Thy
Imo. The Tragedie of Cymbeline.
Imo. Thy fauours good enough. Some Iay of Italy
Imo. (Whose mother was her painting) hath betraid him:
Imo. Poore I am stale, a Garment out of fashion,
Imo. And for I am richer then to hang by th'walles,
Imo. I must be ript: To peeces with me: Oh!
Imo. Mens Vowes are womens Traitors. All good seeming
Imo. By thy reuolt (oh Husband) shall be thought
Imo. Put on for Villainy; not borne where't growes,
Imo. But worne a Baite for Ladies.
Pisa. Pisa.
Pisa. Good Madam, heare me.
Imo. Imo.
Imo. True honest men being heard, like false Æneas,
Imo. Were in his time thought false: and Synons weeping
Imo. Did scandall many a holy teare: tooke pitty
Imo. From most true wretchednesse. So thou, Posthumus
Imo. Wilt lay the Leauen on all proper men;