Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Ob. Ob.
Ob. There lies your loue.
Tita. Tita.
Tita. How came these things to passe?
Tita. Oh, how mine eyes doth loath this visage now!
Ob. Silence a while. Robin take off his head:
Ob. Titania, musick call, and strike more dead
Ob. Then common sleepe; of all these, fine the sense.
Tita. Musicke, ho musicke, such as charmeth sleepe.
Tita. Musick still.
Rob. Rob.
Rob. When thou wak'st, with thine owne fooles eies
Rob. peepe.
Ob. Sound musick; come my Queen, take hands with (me
Ob. And rocke the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Ob. Now thou and I are new in amity,
Ob. And will to morrow midnight, solemnly