Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
King. Enter a Messenger.
Qu. Qu.
Qu. Alacke, what noyse is this?
King. King.
King. Where are my Switzers?
King. Let them guard the doore. What is the matter?
Mes. Mes.
Mes. Saue your selfe, my Lord.
Mes. The Ocean (ouer‑peering of his List)
Mes. Eates not the Flats with more impittious haste
Mes. Then young Laertes, in a Riotous head,
Mes. Ore‑beares your Officers, the rabble call him Lord,
Mes. And as the world were now but to begin,
Mes. Antiquity forgot, Custome not knowne,
Mes. The Ratifiers and props of euery word,
Mes. They cry choose we? Laertes shall be King,
Mes. Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds,
Mes. Laertes shall be King, Laertes King.
Qu. How cheerefully on the false Traile they cry.