Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Hot. My Liege, I did deny no Prisoners.
Hot. But, I remember when the fight was done,
Hot. When I was dry with Rage, and extreame Toyle,
Hot. Breathlesse, and Faint, leaning vpon my Sword,
Hot. Came there a certaine Lord, neat and trimly drest;
Hot. Fresh as a Bride‑groome, and his Chin new reapt,
Hot. Shew'd like a stubble Land at Haruest home.
Hot. He was perfumed like a Milliner,
Hot. And 'twixt his Finger and his Thumbe, he held
Hot. A Pouncet‑box: which euer and anon
Hot. He gaue his Nose, and took't away againe:
Hot. Who therewith angry, when it next came there,
Hot. Tooke it in Snuffe: And still he smil'd and talk'd:
Hot. And as the Souldiers bare dead bodies by,
Hot. He call'd them vntaught Knaues, Vnmannerly,
Hot. To bring a slouenly vnhandsome Coarse
Hot. Betwixt the Winde, and his Nobility.
Hot. With many Holiday and Lady tearme
Hot. He question'd me: Among the rest, demanded
Hot. My Prisoners, in your Maiesties behalfe.