Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Pis. And finde not her, whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow
Pis. You Heauenly blessings on her: This Fooles speede
Pis. Be crost with slownesse; Labour be his meede.
Pis. Exit
Pis. Scena Sexta.
Pis. [Act 3, Scene 6]
Pis. Enter Imogen alone.
Imo. Imo.
Imo. I see a mans life is a tedious one,
Imo. I haue tyr'd my selfe: and for two nights together
Imo. Haue made the ground my bed. I should be sicke,
Imo. But that my resolution helpes me: Milford,
Imo. When from the Mountaine top, Pisanio shew'd thee,
Imo. Thou was't within a kenne. Oh Ioue, I thinke
Imo. Foundations flye the wretched: such I meane,
Imo. Where they should be releeu'd. Two Beggers told me,
Imo. I could not misse my way. Will poore Folkes lye
Imo. That haue Afflictions on them, knowing 'tis
Imo. A punishment, or Triall? Yes; no wonder,
Imo. When Rich‑ones scarse tell true. To lapse in Fulnesse