Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Isa. To haue, what we would haue,
Isa. We speake not what vve meane;
Isa. I something do excuse the thing I hate,
Isa. For his aduantage that I dearely loue.
Ang. Ang.
Ang. We are all fraile.
Isa. Isa.
Isa. Else let my brother die,
Isa. If not a fedarie but onely he
Isa. Owe, and succeed thy weaknesse.
Ang. Nay, women are fraile too.
Isa. I, as the glasses where they view themselues,
Isa. Which are as easie broke as they make formes:
Isa. Women? Helpe heauen; men their creation marre
Isa. In profiting by them: Nay, call vs ten times fraile,
Isa. For we are soft, as our complexions are,
Isa. And credulous to false prints.