Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Bra. Bra.
Bra. It is too true an euill. Gone she is,
Bra. And what's to come of my despised time,
Bra. Is naught but bitternesse. Now Rodorigo,
Bra. Where didst thou see her? (Oh vnhappie Girle)
Bra. With the Moore saist thou? (Who would be a Father?)
Bra. How didst thou know 'twas she? (Oh she deceaues me
Bra. Past thought:) what said she to you? Get moe Tapers:
Bra. Raise all my Kindred. Are they married thinke you?
Rodo. Rodo.
Rodo. Truely I thinke they are.
Bra. Oh Heauen: how got she out?
Bra. Oh treason of the blood.
Bra. Fathers, from hence trust not your Daughters minds
Bra. By what you see them act. Is there not Charmes,
Bra. By which the propertie of Youth, and Maidhood
Bra. May be abus'd? Haue you not read Rodorigo,
Bra. Of some such thing?
Rod. Rod.