Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Ros. witte.
Cel. Cel.
Cel. Peraduenture this is not Fortunes work neither,
Cel. but Natures, who perceiueth our naturall wits too dull
Cel. to reason of such goddesses, hath sent this Naturall for
Cel. our whetstone. for alwaies the dulnesse of the foole, is
Cel. the whetstone of the wits. How now Witte, whether
Cel. wander you?
Clow. Clow.
Clow. Mistresse, you must come away to your father.
Cel. Were you made the messenger?
Clo. Clo.
Clo. No by mine honor, but I was bid to come for you
Clo. Ros.
Clo. As you like it.
Ros. Ros.
Ros. Where learned you that oath foole?
Clo. Of a certaine Knight, that swore by his Honour