Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Clar. Clar.
Clar. As red as fire? nay then, her Wax must melt.
Wid. Wid.
Wid. Why stoppes my Lord? shall I not heare my
Wid. Taske?
King. King.
King. An easie Taske, 'tis but to loue a King.
Wid. That's soone perform'd, because I am a Subiect.
King. Why then, thy Husbands Lands I freely giue
King. thee.
Wid. I take my leaue with many thousand thankes.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. The Match is made, shee seales it with a Cursie.
King. But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of loue I meane.
Wid. The fruits of Loue, I meane, my louing Liege.