Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Yorke. What shall betide the Duke of Somerset?
Yorke. Let him shunne Castles,
Yorke. Safer shall he be vpon the sandie Plaines,
Yorke. Then where Castles mounted stand.
Yorke. Come, come, my Lords,
Yorke. These Oracles are hardly attain'd,
Yorke. And hardly vnderstood.
Yorke. The King is now in progresse towards Saint Albones,
Yorke. With him, the Husband of this louely Lady:
Yorke. Thither goes these Newes,
Yorke. As fast as Horse can carry them:
Yorke. A sorry Breakfast for my Lord Protector.
Buck. Buck.
Buck. Your Grace shal giue me leaue, my Lord of York,
Buck. To be the Poste, in hope of his reward.
Yorke. Yorke.
Yorke. At your pleasure, my good Lord.
Yorke. Who's within there, hoe?
Yorke. Enter a Seruingman.
Yorke. Inuite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick