Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Yor. Yor.
Yor. Hold Warwick: seek thee out some other chace
Yor. For I my selfe must hunt this Deere to death.
War. War.
War. Than nobly Yorke, 'tis for a Crown thou fightst:
War. As I intend Clifford to thriue to day,
War. It greeues my soule to leaue theee vnassail'd.
War. Exit War.
Clif. Clif.
Clif. What seest thou in me Yorke?
Clif. Why dost thou pause?
Yorke. Yorke.
Yorke. With thy braue bearing should I be in loue,
Yorke. But that thou art so fast mine enemie.
Clif. Nor should thy prowesse want praise & esteeme,
Clif. But that 'tis shewne ignobly, and in Treason.
Yorke. So let it helpe me now against thy sword,
Yorke. As I in iustice, and true right expresse it.