Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Pol. Pray good Shepheard, what faire Swaine is this,
Pol. Which dances with your daughter?
Shep. Shep.
Shep. They call him Doricles, and boasts himselfe
Shep. To haue a worthy Feeding; but I haue it
Shep. Vpon his owne report, and I beleeue it:
Shep. He lookes like sooth: he sayes he loues my daughter,
Shep. I thinke so too; for neuer gaz’d the Moone
Shep. Vpon the water, as hee’l stand and reade
Shep. As 'twere my daughters eyes: and to be plaine,
Shep. I thinke there is not halfe a kisse to choose
Shep. Who loues another best.
Pol. Pol.
Pol. She dances featly.
Shep. So she do’s any thing, though I report it
Shep. That should be silent: If yong Doricles
Shep. Do light vpon her, she shall bring him that
Shep. Which he not dreames of.
Shep. Enter Seruant.