Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Cap. I cannot tell: but I am faint,
Cap. My Gashes cry for helpe.
King. King.
King. So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds,
King. They smack of Honor both: Goe get him Surgeons.
King. Enter Rosse and Angus.
King. Who comes here?
Mal. Mal.
Mal. The worthy Thane of Rosse.
Lenox. Lenox.
Lenox. What a haste lookes through his eyes?
Lenox. So should he looke, that seemes to speake things strange.
Rosse. Rosse.
Rosse. God saue the King.
King. Whence cam'st thou, worthy Thane?
Rosse. From Fiffe, great King,
Rosse. Where the Norweyan Banners flowt the Skie,
Rosse. And fanne our people cold.