Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Par. What exploit's in hand, where sups he to night?
Hel. Hel.
Hel. Nay but my Lord?
Pan. Pan.
Pan. What saies my sweete Queene? my cozen will
Pan. fall out with you.
Hel. You must not know where he sups.
Par. Par.
Par. With my disposer Cressida.
Pan. No, no; no such matter, you are wide, come your
Pan. disposer is sicke.
Par. Well, Ile make excuse.
Pan. I good my Lord: why should you say Cressida?
Pan. no your poore disposer's sicke.
Par. I spie.