“Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd him. Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion, And for I am richer than to hang by th' walls I must be ripp'd. To pieces with me! O, Men's vows are women's traitors!
All good seeming,
By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought Put on for villainy; not born where't grows, But worn a bait for ladies. PISANIO. Good madam, hear me.
IMOGEN. True honest men being heard, like false Aeneas,”