Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Puc. Will nothing turne your vnrelenting hearts?
Puc. Then Ione discouer thine infirmity,
Puc. That wartanteth warranteth by Law, to be thy priuiledge.
Puc. I am with childe ye bloody Homicides:
Puc. Murther not then the Fruite within my Wombe,
Puc. Although ye hale me to a violent death.
Yor. Yor.
Yor. Now heauen forfend, the holy Maid with child?
War. War.
War. The greatest miracle that ere ye wrought.
War. Is all your strict precisenesse come to this?
Yorke. Yorke.
Yorke. She and the Dolphin haue bin iugling,
Yorke. I did imagine what would be her refuge.
War. Well go too, we'll haue no Bastards liue,
War. Especially since Charles must Father it.
Puc. Puc.
Puc. You are deceyu'd, my childe is none of his,
Puc. It was Alanson that inioy'd my loue.