Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Thes. Thes.
Thes. Goe bid the hunts‑men wake them with their
Thes. hornes.
Thes. Hornes and they wake.
Thes. Shout within, they all start vp.
Thes. Good morrow friends: Saint Valentine is past,
Thes. Begin these wood birds but to couple now?
Lys. Lys.
Lys. Pardon my Lord.
Thes. I pray you all stand vp.
Thes. I know you two are Riuall enemies.
Thes. How comes this gentle concord in the world,
Thes. That hatred is isis so farre from iealousie,
Thes. To sleepe by hate, and feare no enmity.
Lys. My Lord, I shall reply amazedly,
Lys. Halfe sleepe, halfe waking. But as yet, I sweare,
Lys. I cannot truly say how I came heere.