Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Her. You thus haue publish’d me? Gentle my Lord,
Her. You scarce can right me throughly, then, to say
Her. You did mistake.
Leo. Leo.
Leo. No: if I mistake
Leo. In those Foundations which I build vpon,
Leo. The Centre is not bigge enough to beare
Leo. A Schoole‑Boyes Top. Away with her, to Prison:
Leo. He who shall speake for her, is a farre‑off guiltie,
Leo. But that he speakes.
Her. Her.
Her. There’s some ill Planet raignes:
Her. I must be patient, till the Heauens looke
Her. With an aspect more fauorable. Good my Lords,
Her. I am not prone to weeping (as our Sex
Her. Commonly are) the want of which vaine dew
Her. Perchance shall dry your pitties: but I haue
Her. That honorable Griefe lodg’d here, which burnes
Her. Worse then Teares drowne: 'beseech you all (my Lords)
Her. With thoughts so qualified, as your Charities