Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
This. Thy stones vvith Lime and Haire knit vp in thee.
Pyra. Pyra.
Pyra. I see a voyce; now vvill I to the chinke,
Pyra. To spy and I can heare my Thisbies face. Thisbie?
This. This.
This. My Loue thou art, my Loue I thinke.
Pir. Pir.
Pir. Thinke vvhat thou vvilt, I am thy Louers grace,
Pir. And like Limander am I trusty still.
This. And like Helen till the Fates me kill.
Pir. Not Shafalus to Procrus, was so true.
This. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.
This. Pir. O
This. A Midsommer nights Dreame.
Pir. O kisse me through the hole of this vile wall.