Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Her. Tell me what blessings I haue here aliue,
Her. That I should feare to die? Therefore proceed:
Her. But yet heare this: mistake me not: no Life,
Her. (I prize it not a straw) but for mine Honor,
Her. Which I would free: if I shall be condemn’d
Her. Vpon surmizes (all proofes sleeping else,
Her. But what your Iealousies awake) I tell you
Her. 'Tis Rigor, and not Law. Your Honors all,
Her. I doe referre me to the Oracle:
Her. Apollo be my Iudge.
Lord. Lord.
Lord. This your request
Lord. Is altogether iust: therefore bring forth
Lord. (And in Apollo’s Name) his Oracle.
Her. Her.
Her. The Emperor of Russia was my Father.
Her. Oh that he were aliue, and here beholding
Her. His Daughters Tryall: that he did but see
Her. The flatnesse of my miserie; yet with eyes
Her. Of Pitty, not Reuenge.