Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Glou. To quarrell with your great opposelesse willes,
Glou. My snuffe, and loathed part of Nature should
Glou. Burne it selfe out. If Edgar liue, O blesse him:
Glou. Now Fellow, fare thee well.
Edg. Edg.
Edg. Gone Sir, farewell:
Edg. And yet I know not how conceit may rob
Edg. The Treasury of life, when life it selfe
Edg. Yeelds to the Theft. Had he bin where he thought,
Edg. By this had thought bin past. Aliue, or dead?
Edg. Hoa, you Sir: Friend, heare you Sir, speake:
Edg. Thus might he passe indeed: yet he reuiues.
Edg. What are you Sir?
Glou. Glou.
Glou. Away, and let me dye.
Edg. Had'st thou beene ought
Edg. But Gozemore, Feathers, Ayre,
Edg. (So many fathome downe precipitating)
Edg. Thou'dst shiuer'd like an Egge: but thou do'st breath: