Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
1 So Noble a Master falne, all gone, and not
1 One Friend to take his Fortune by the arme,
1 And go along with him.
2 2
2 As we do turne our backes
2 From our Companion, throwne into his graue,
2 So his Familiars to his buried Fortunes
2 Slinke all away, leaue their false vowes with him
2 Like empty purses pickt; and his poore selfe
2 A dedicated Beggar to the Ayre,
2 With his disease, of all shunn'd pouerty,
2 Walkes like contempt alone. More of our Fellowes.
2 Enter other Seruants.
Stew. Stew.
Stew. All broken Implements of a ruin'd house.
3 3
3 Yet do our hearts weare Timons Liuery,
3 That see I by our Faces: we are Fellowes still,
3 Seruing alike in sorrow: Leak'd is our Barke,
3 And we poore Mates, stand on the dying Decke,