Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Satur. Of eg all iustice, vs'd in such contempt?
Satur. My Lords, you know the mightfull Gods,
Satur. (How euer these disturbers of our peace
Satur. Buz in the peoples eares) there nought hath past,
Satur. But euen with law against the willfull Sonnes
Satur. Of old Andronicus. And what and if
Satur. His sorrowes haue so ouerwhelm'd his wits,
Satur. Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreakes,
Satur. His fits, his frenzie, and his bitternesse?
Satur. And now he writes to heauen for his redresse.
Satur. See, heeres to Ioue, and this to Mercury,
Satur. This
Satur. The Lamentable Tragedie of Titus Andronicus.
Satur. This to Apollo, this to the God of warre:
Satur. Sweet scrowles to flie about the streets of Rome:
Satur. What's this but Libelling against the Senate,
Satur. And blazoning our Iniustice euery where?
Satur. A goodly humour, is it not my Lords?
Satur. As who would say, in Rome no Iustice were.
Satur. But if I liue, his fained extasies