Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Par. Par.
Par. Faire Diomed, you doe as chapmen doe,
Par. Dis praise the thing that you desire to buy:
Par. But we in silence hold this vertue well;
Par. Weele not commend, what we intend to sell.
Par. Here lyes our way,
Par. Exeunt.
Par. [Act 4, Scene 2]
Par. Enter Troylus and Cressida.
Troy. Troy.
Troy. Deere trouble not your selfe: the morne is cold.
Cres. Cres.
Cres. Then sweet my Lord, Ile call mine Vnckle down;
Cres. He shall vnbolt the Gates.
Troy. Trouble him not:
Troy. To bed, to bed: sleepe kill those pritty eyes,
Troy. And giue as soft attachment to thy sences,
Troy. As Infants empty of all thought.