Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Aron. But say againe, how many saw the childe?
Nurse. Nurse.
Nurse. Cornelia, the midwife, and my selfe,
Nurse. And none else but the deliuered Empresse.
Aron. Aron.
Aron. The Empresse, the Midwife, and your selfe,
Aron. Two may keepe counsell, when the third's away:
Aron. Goe to the Empresse, tell her this I said, He kils her
Aron. Weeke, weeke, so cries a Pigge prepared to th'spit.
Deme. Deme.
Deme. What mean'st thou Aaron?
Deme. Wherefore did'st thou this?
Aron. O Lord sir, 'tis a deed of pollicie?
Aron. Shall she liue to betray this guilt of our's:
Aron. A long tongu'd babling Gossip? No Lords no:
Aron. And now be it knowne to you my full intent.
Aron. Not farre, one Muliteus my Country‑man
Aron. His wife but yesternight was brought to bed,
Aron. His childe is like to her, faire as you are: