Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Tit. She's gone, she's fled, sirs take you to your tooles,
Tit. You Cosens shall goe sound the Ocean:
Tit. And cast your nets, haply you may find her in the Sea,
Tit. Yet ther's as little iustice as at Land:
Tit. No Publius and Sempronius, you must doe it,
Tit. 'Tis
Tit. The Lamentable Tragedie of Titus Andronicus.
Tit. 'Tis you must dig with Mattocke, and with Spade,
Tit. And pierce the inmost Center of the earth:
Tit. Then when you come to Plutoes Region,
Tit. I pray you deliuer him this petition,
Tit. Tell him it is for iustice, and for aide,
Tit. And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Tit. Shaken with sorrowes in vngratefull Rome.
Tit. Ah Rome! Well, well, I made thee miserable,
Tit. What time I threw the peoples suffrages
Tit. On him that thus doth tyrannize ore me.
Tit. Goe get you gone, and pray be carefull all,
Tit. And leaue you not a man of warre vnsearcht,
Tit. This wicked Emperour may haue shipt her hence,