Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Tim. Destruction phang mankinde; Earth yeeld me Rootes,
Tim. Who seekes for better of thee, sawce his pallate
Tim. With thy most operant Poyson. What is heere?
Tim. Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious Gold?
Tim. No Gods, I am no idle Votarist,
Tim. Roots you cleere Heauens. Thus much of this will make
Tim. Blacke, white; fowle, faire; wrong, right;
Tim. Base, Noble; Old, young; Coward, valiant.
Tim. Ha you Gods! why this? what this, you Gods? why this
Tim. Will lugge your Priests and Seruants from your sides:
Tim. Plucke stout mens pillowes from below their heads.
Tim. This
Tim. Timon of Athens.
Tim. This yellow Slaue,
Tim. Will knit and breake Religions, blesse th'accurst,
Tim. Make the hoare Leprosie ador'd, place Theeues,
Tim. And giue them Title, knee, and approbation
Tim. With Senators on the Bench: This is it
Tim. That makes the wappen'd Widdow wed againe;
Tim. Shee, whom the Spittle‑house, and vlcerous sores,