Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Ang. And now I giue my sensuall race, the reine,
Ang. Fit thy consent to my sharpe appetite,
Ang. Lay by all nicetie, and prolixious blushes
Ang. That banish what they sue for: Redeeme thy brother,
Ang. By yeelding vp thy bodie to my will,
Ang. Or else he must not onelie die the death,
Ang. But thy vnkindnesse shall his death draw out
Ang. To lingring sufferance: Answer me to morrow,
Ang. Or by the affection that now guides me most,
Ang. Ile proue a Tirant to him. As for you,
Ang. Say what you can; my false, ore‑weighs your true.
Ang. Exit.
Isa. Isa.
Isa. To whom should I complaine? Did I tell this,
Isa. Who would beleeue me? O perilous mouthes
Isa. That beare in them, one and the selfesame tongue,
Isa. Either of condemnation, or approofe,
Isa. Bidding the Law make curtsie to their will,
Isa. Hooking both right and wrong to th' appetite,
Isa. To follow as it drawes. Ile to my brother,