Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Isa. Isa.
Isa. My brother did loue Iuliet,
Isa. And you tell me that he shall die for't.
Ang. Ang.
Ang. He shall not Isabell if you giue me loue.
Isa. I know your vertue hath a licence in't,
Isa. Which seemes a little fouler then it is,
Isa. To plucke on others.
Ang. Beleeue me on mine Honor,
Ang. My words expresse my purpose.
Isa. Ha? Little honor, to be much beleeu'd,
Isa. And most pernitious purpose: Seeming, seeming.
Isa. I will proclaime thee Angelo, looke for't.
Isa. Signe me a present pardon for my brother,
Isa. Or with an out‑stretcht throate Ile tell the world aloud
Isa. What man thou art.