Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Hec. But make amends now: Get you gon,
Hec. And at the pit of Acheron
Hec. Meete me i'th'Morning: thither he
Hec. Will come, to know his Destinie.
Hec. Your Vessels, and your Spels prouide,
Hec. Your Charmes, and euery thing beside;
Hec. I am for th'Ayre: This night Ile spend
Hec. Vnto a dismall, and a Fatall end.
Hec. Great businesse must be wrought ere Noone.
Hec. Vpon the Corner of the Moone
Hec. There hangs a vap'rous drop, profound,
Hec. Ile catch it ere it come to ground;
Hec. And that distill'd by Magicke slights,
Hec. Shall raise such Artificiall Sprights,
Hec. As by the strength of their illusion,
Hec. Shall draw him on to his Confusion.
Hec. He shall spurne Fate, scorne Death, and beare
Hec. His hopes 'boue Wisedome, Grace, and Feare:
Hec. And you all know, Security
Hec. Is Mortals cheefest Enemie.