Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Mal. Well, more anon. Comes the King forth
Mal. I pray you?
Doct. Doct.
Doct. I Sir: there are a crew of wretched Soules
Doct. That stay his Cure: their malady conuinces
Doct. The great assay of Art. But at his touch,
Doct. Such sanctity hath Heauen giuen his hand,
Doct. They presently amend.
Doct. Exit.
Mal. Mal.
Mal. I thanke you Doctor.
Macd. Macd.
Macd. What's the Disease he meanes?
Mal. Tis call'd the Euill.
Mal. A most myraculous worke in this good King,
Mal. Which often since my heere remaine in England,
Mal. I haue seene him do: How he solicites heauen
Mal. Himselfe best knowes: but strangely visited people
Mal. All swolne and Vlcerous, pittifull to the eye,