Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Cleo. Like balls before me: Ile vnhaire thy head,
Cleo. She hales him vp and downe.
Cleo. Thou shalt be whipt with Wyer, and stew'd in brine,
Cleo. Smarting in lingring pickle.
Mes. Mes.
Mes. Gratious Madam,
Mes. I that do bring the newes, made not the match.
Cleo. Cleo.
Cleo. Say 'tis not so, a Prouince I will giue thee,
Cleo. And make thy Fortunes proud: the blow thou had'st
Cleo. Shall make thy peace, for mouing me to rage,
Cleo. And I will boot thee with what guift beside
Cleo. Thy modestie can begge.
Mes. He's married Madam.
Cleo. Rogue, thou hast liu'd too long.
Cleo. Draw a knife.
Mes. Nay then Ile runne: