Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Fri. O much I feare some ill vnluckie thing.
Man. Man.
Man. As I did sleepe vnder this young tree here,
Man. I dreamt my maister and another fought,
Man. And that my Maister slew him.
Fri. Fri.
Fri. Romeo.
Fri. Alacke, alacke, what blood is this which staines
Fri. The stony entrance of this Sepulcher?
Fri. What meane these Masterlesse, and goarie Swords
Fri. To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?
Fri. Romeo, oh pale: who else? what Paris too?
Fri. And steept in blood? Ah what an vn knd houre
Fri. Is guiltie of this lamentable chance?
Fri. The Lady stirs.
Iul. Iul.
Iul. O comfortable Frier, where's my Lord?
Iul. I do remember well where I should be:
Iul. And there I am, where is my Romeo?