Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Car. Car.
Car. Madam, this is a meere distraction,
Car. You turne the good we offer, into enuy.
Quee. Quee.
Quee. Ye turne me into nothing. Woe vpon ye,
Quee. And all such false Professors. Would you haue me
Quee. (If you haue any Iustice, any Pitty,
Quee. If ye be any thing but Churchmens habits)
Quee. Put my sicke cause into his hands, that hates me?
Quee. Alas, ha's banish'd me his Bed already,
Quee. His Loue, too long ago. I am old my Lords,
Quee. And all the Fellowship I hold now with him
Quee. Is onely my Obedience. What can happen
Quee. To me, aboue this wretchednesse? All your Studies
Quee. Make me a Curse, like this.
Camp. Camp.
Camp. Your feares are worse.
Qu. Qu.
Qu. Haue I liu'd thus long (let me speak my selfe,
Qu. Since Vertue findes no friends) a Wife, a true one?