Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Vlis. Aiax renown'd? O heauens, what some men doe,
Vlis. While some men leaue to doe!
Vlis. How some men creepe in skittish fortunes hall,
Vlis. Whiles others play the Ideots in her eyes:
Vlis. How one man eates into anothers pride,
Vlis. While pride is feasting in his wantonnesse
Vlis. To see these Grecian Lords; why, euen already,
Vlis. They clap the lubber Aiax on the shoulder,
Vlis. As if his foote were on braue Hectors brest,
Vlis. And great Troy shrinking.
Achil. Achil.
Achil. I doe beleeue it:
Achil. For they past by me, as mysers doe by beggars,
Achil. Neither gaue to me good word, nor looke:
Achil. What are my deedes forgot?
Vlis. Vlis.
Vlis. Time hath (my Lord) a wallet at his backe,
Vlis. Wherein he puts almes for obliuion:
Vlis. A great siz'd monster of ingratitudes:
Vlis. Those scraps are good deedes past,