Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Stew. Vndone by Goodnesse: strange vnvsuall blood,
Stew. When mans worst sinne is, He do's too much Good.
Stew. Who then dares to be halfe so kinde agen?
Stew. For Bounty that makes Gods, do still marre Men.
Stew. My deerest Lord, blest to be most accurst,
Stew. Rich onely to be wretched; thy great Fortunes
Stew. Are made thy cheefe Afflictions. Alas (kinde Lord)
Stew. Hee's flung in Rage from this ingratefull Seate
Stew. Of monstrous Friends:
Stew. Nor ha's he with him to supply his life,
Stew. Or that which can command it:
Stew. Ile follow and enquire him out.
Stew. Ile euer serue his minde, with my best will,
Stew. Whilst I haue Gold, Ile be his Steward still.
Stew. Exit.
Stew. [Act 4, Scene 3]
Stew. Enter Timon in the woods.
Tim. Tim.
Tim. O blessed breeding Sun, draw from the earth
Tim. Rotten humidity: below thy Sisters Orbe