Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Leo. Least it should bite it’s Master, and so proue
Leo. (As Ornaments oft do’s) too dangerous:
Leo. How like (me thought) I then was to this Kernell,
Leo. This Squash, this Gentleman. Mine honest Friend,
Leo. Will you take Egges for Money?
Mam. Mam.
Mam. No (my Lord) Ile fight.
Leo. Leo.
Leo. You will: why happy man be’s dole. My Brother
Leo. Are you so fond of your young Prince, as we
Leo. Doe seeme to be of ours?
Pol. Pol.
Pol. If at home (Sir)
Pol. He’s all my Exercise, my Mirth, my Matter;
Pol. Now my sworne Friend, and then mine Enemy;
Pol. My Parasite, my Souldier: States‑man; all:
Pol. He makes a Iulyes day, short as December,
Pol. And with his varying child‑nesse, cures in me
Pol. Thoughts, that would thick my blood.