Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Gon. Decline your head. This kisse, if it durst speake
Gon. Would stretch thy Spirits vp into the ayre:
Gon. Conceiue, and fare thee well.
Bast. Bast.
Bast. Yours in the rankes of death.
Bast. Exit.
Gon. Gon.
Gon. My most deere Gloster.
Gon. Oh, the difference of man, and man,
Gon. To thee a Womans seruices are due,
Gon. My Foole vsurpes my body.
Stew. Stew.
Stew. Madam, here come's my Lord.
Stew. Enter Albany.
Gon. I haue beene worth the whistle.
Alb. Alb.
Alb. Oh Gonerill,
Alb. You are not worth the dust which the rude winde
Alb. Blowes in your face.