Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
West. West.
West. This will I shew the Generall. Please you Lords,
West. In sight of both our Battailes, wee may meete
West. At either end in peace: which Heauen so frame,
West. Or to the place of difference call the Swords,
West. Which must decide it.
Bish. Bish.
Bish. My Lord, wee will doe so.
Mow. Mow.
Mow. There is a thing within my Bosome tells me,
Mow. That no Conditions of our Peace can stand.
Hast. Hast.
Hast. Feare you not, that if wee can make our Peace
Hast. Vpon such large termes, and so absolute,
Hast. As our Conditions shall consist vpon,
Hast. Our Peace shall stand as firme as Rockie Mountaines.
Mow. I, but our valuation shall be such,
Mow. That euery slight, and false‑deriued Cause,
Mow. Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton Reason,