Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Hot. He should, or should not: For he made me mad,
Hot. To see him shine so briske, and smell so sweet,
Hot. And talke so like a Waiting‑Gentlewoman,
Hot. Of Guns, & Drums, and Wounds: God saue the marke;
Hot. And telling me, the Soueraign'st thing on earth
Hot. Was Parmacity, for an inward bruise:
Hot. And that it was great pitty, so it was,
Hot. That villanous Salt‑peter should be digg'd
Hot. Out of the Bowels of the harmlesse Earth,
Hot. Which many a good Tall Fellow had destroy'd
Hot. So Cowardly. And but for these vile Gunnes,
Hot. He would himselfe haue beene a Souldier.
Hot. This bald, vnioynted Chat of his (my Lord)
Hot. Made me to answer indirectly (as I said.)
Hot. And I beseech you, let not this report
Hot. Come currant for an Accusation,
Hot. Betwixt my Loue, and your high Maiesty.
Blunt. Blunt.
Blunt. The circumstance considered, good my Lord,
Blunt. What euer Harry Percie then had said,