Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Alan. He may meane more then we poor men do know,
Alan. These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues.
Reigneir. Reigneir.
Reigneir. My Lord, where are you? what deuise you on?
Reigneir. Shall we giue o're Orleance, or no?
Puzel. Puzel.
Puzel. Why no, I say: distrustfull Recreants,
Puzel. Fight till the last gaspe: Ile be your guard.
Dolph. Dolph.
Dolph. What shee sayes, Ile confirme: wee'le fight
Dolph. it out.
Puzel. Assign'd am I to be the English Scourge.
Puzel. This night the Siege assuredly Ile rayse:
Puzel. Expect Saint Martins Summer, Halcyons dayes,
Puzel. Since I haue entred into these Warres.
Puzel. Glory is like a Circle in the Water,
Puzel. Which neuer ceaseth to enlarge it selfe,
Puzel. Till by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.
Puzel. With Henries death, the English Circle ends,