Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Bul. Too good to be so, and too bad to liue,
Bul. Since the more faire and christall is the skie,
Bul. The vglier seeme the cloudes that in it flye:
Bul. Once more, the more to aggrauate the note,
Bul. With a foule Traitors name stuffe I thy throte,
Bul. And wish (so please my Soueraigne) ere I moue,
Bul. What my tong speaks, my right drawn sword may proue
Mow. Mow.
Mow. Let not my cold words heere accuse my zeale:
Mow. 'Tis not the triall of a Womans warre,
Mow. The bitter clamour of two eager tongues,
Mow. Can arbitrate this cause betwixt vs twaine:
Mow. The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this.
Mow. Yet can I not of such tame patience boast,
Mow. As to be husht, and nought at all to say.
Mow. First the faire reuerence of your Highnesse curbes mee,
Mow. From giuing reines and spurres to my free speech,
Mow. Which else would post, vntill it had return'd
Mow. These tearmes of treason, doubly downe his throat.
Mow. Setting aside his high bloods royalty,