Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Mor. Mor.
Mor. The liues of all your loving Complices
Mor. Leane‑on your health, the which if you giue‑o're
Mor. To stormy Passion, must perforce decay.
Mor. You cast th'euent of Warre (my Noble Lord)
Mor. And summ'd the accompt of Chance, before you said
Mor. Let vs make head: It was your presurmize,
Mor. That in the dole of blowes, your Son might drop.
Mor. You knew he walk'd o're perils, on an edge
Mor. More likely to fall in, then to get o're:
Mor. You were aduis'd his flesh was capeable
Mor. Of Wounds, and Scarres; and that his forward Spirit
Mor. Would lift him, where most trade of danger rang'd,
Mor. Yet did you say go forth: and none of this
Mor. (Though strongly apprehended) could restraine
Mor. The stiffe‑borne Action: What hath then befalne?
Mor. Or what hath this bold enterprize bring forth,
Mor. More then that Being, which was like to be?
L. Bar. L. Bar.
L. Bar. We all that are engaged to this losse,