Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Bul. Oh no, the apprehension of the good
Bul. Giues but the greater feeling to the worse:
Bul. Fell sorrowes tooth, doth euer ranckle more
Bul. Then when it bites, but lanceth not the sore.
Gau. Gau.
Gau. Come, come (my son) Ile bring thee on thy way
Gau. Had I thy youth, and cause, I would not stay.
Bul. Bul.
Bul. Then Englands ground farewell: sweet soil adieu,
Bul. My Mother, and my Nurse, which beares me yet:
Bul. Where ere I wander, boast of this I can,
Bul. Though banish'd, yet a true‑borne Englishman.
Bul. Scœna Quarta.
Bul. [Act 1, Scene 4]
Bul. Enter King, Aumerle, Greene, and Bagot.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. We did obserue. Cosine Aumerle,
Rich. How far brought you high Herford on his way?
Aum. Aum.
Aum. I brought high Herford (if you call him so)