Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Desde. Desde.
Desde. What would'st write of me, if thou should'st
Desde. praise me?
Iago. Iago.
Iago. Oh, gentle Lady, do not put me too't,
Iago. For I am nothing, if not Criticall.
Des. Des.
Des. Come on, assay.
Des. There's one gone to the Harbour?
Iago. I Madam.
Des. I am not merry: but I do beguile
Des. The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.
Des. Come, how would'st thou praise me?
Iago. I am about it, but indeed my inuention comes
Iago. from my pate, as Birdlyme do's from Freeze, it pluckes
Iago. out Braines and all. But my Muse labours, and thus she
Iago. is deliuer'd.