Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Chi. Full well shalt thou perceiue how much I dare.
Deme. Deme.
Deme. I Boy, grow ye so braue?
Deme. They drawe.
Aron. Aron.
Aron. Why how now Lords?
Aron. So nere the Emperours Pallace dare you draw,
Aron. And
Aron. The Lamentable Tragedie of Titus Andronicus.
Aron. And maintaine such a quarrell openly?
Aron. Full well I wote, the ground of all this grudge.
Aron. I would not for a million of Gold,
Aron. The cause were knowne to them it most concernes.
Aron. Nor would your noble mother for much more
Aron. Be so dishonored in the Court of Rome:
Aron. For shame put vp.
Deme. Not I, till I haue sheath'd
Deme. My rapier in his bosome, and withall
Deme. Thrust these reprochfull speeches downe his throat,