Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Poet. Poet.
Poet. Vouchsafe my Labour,
Poet. And long liue your Lordship.
Tim. Tim.
Tim. I thanke you, you shall heare from me anon:
Tim. Go not away. What haue you there, my Friend?
Pain. Pain.
Pain. A peece of Painting, which I do beseech
Pain. Your Lordship to accept.
Tim. Painting is welcome.
Tim. The Painting is almost the Naturall man:
Tim. For since Dishonor Traffickes with mans Nature,
Tim. He is but out‑side: These Pensil'd Figures are
Tim. Euen such as they giue out. I like your worke,
Tim. And you shall finde I like it; Waite attendance
Tim. Till you heare further from me.
Pain. The Gods preserue ye.