Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Lady. To haue thee crown'd withall.
Lady. Enter Messenger.
Lady. What is your tidings?
Mess. Mess.
Mess. The King comes here to Night.
Lady. Lady.
Lady. Thou'rt mad to say it.
Lady. Is not thy Master with him? who, wer't so,
Lady. Would haue inform'd for preparation.
Mess. So please you, it is true: our Thane is comming:
Mess. One of my fellowes had the speed of him;
Mess. Who almost dead for breath, had scarcely more
Mess. Then would make vp his Message.
Lady. Giue him tending,
Lady. He brings great newes.
Lady. Exit Messenger.
Lady. The Rauen himselfe is hoarse,
Lady. That croakes the fatall entrance of Duncan