Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Mor. Being ten times vndervalued to tride gold;
Mor. O sinfull thought, neuer so rich a Iem
Mor. Was set in worse then gold! They haue in England
Mor. A coyne that beares the figure of an Angell
Mor. Stampt in gold, but that's insculpt vpon:
Mor. But here an Angell in a golden bed
Mor. Lies all within. Deliuer me the key:
Mor. Here doe I choose, and thriue I as I may.
Por. Por.
Por. There take it Prince, and if my forme lye there
Por. Then I am yours.
Mor. Mor.
Mor. O hell! what haue we here, a carrion death,
Mor. Within whose emptie eye there is a written scroule;
Mor. Ile reade the writing.
Mor. All that glisters is not gold,
Mor. Often haue you heard that told;
Mor. Many a man his life hath sold
Mor. But my outside to behold;
Mor. Guilded timber doe wormes infold: