Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Chi. Chi.
Chi. And that would she for twenty thousand more.
Deme. Deme.
Deme. Come, let vs go, and pray to all the Gods
Deme. For our beloued mother in her paines.
Moore. Moore.
Moore. Pray to the deuils, the gods haue giuen vs ouer.
Moore. Flourish.
Dem. Dem.
Dem. Why do the Emperors trumpets flourish thus?
Chi. Belike for ioy the Emperour hath a sonne.
Deme. Soft, who comes heere?
Deme. Enter Nurse with a blacke a Moore childe.
Nur. Nur.
Nur. Good morrow Lords:
Nur. O tell me, did you see Aaron the Moore?
Aron. Aron.
Aron. Well, more or lesse, or nere a whit at all,