Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Tyr. Please you:
Tyr. But I had rather kill two enemies.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Why then thou hast it: two deepe enemies,
Rich. Foes to my Rest, and my sweet sleepes disturbers,
Rich. Are they that I would haue thee deale vpon:
Rich. Tyrrel, I meane those Bastards in the Tower.
Tyr. Tyr.
Tyr. Let me haue open meanes to come to them,
Tyr. And soone Ile rid you from the feare of them.
Rich. Thou sing'st sweet Musique;
Rich. Hearke, come hither Tyrrel,
Rich. Goe by this token: rise, and lend thine Eare,
Rich. Whispers.
Rich. There is no more but so: say it is done,
Rich. And I will loue thee, and preferre thee for it.
Tyr. I will dispatch it straight.
Tyr. Exit.