Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Nur. God in heauen blesse her,
Nur. You are too blame my Lord to rate her so.
Fa. Fa.
Fa. And why my Lady wisedome? hold your tongue,
Fa. Good Prudence, smatter with your gossip, go.
Nur. Nur.
Nur. I speak no treason,
Nur. Father, O Godigoden,
Nur. May not one speake?
Fa. Peace you mumbling foole,
Fa. Vtter your grauitie ore a Gossips bowles
Fa. For here we need it not.
La. La.
La. You are too hot.
Fa. Gods bread, it makes me mad:
Fa. Day, night, houre, ride, time, worke, play,
Fa. Alone in companie, still my care hath bin
Fa. To haue her matcht, and hauing now prouided