Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Pain. Pain.
Pain. How this Lord is followed.
Poet. Poet.
Poet. The Senators of Athens, happy men.
Pain. Looke moe.
Po. Po.
Po. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors,
Po. I haue in this rough worke, shap'd out a man
Po. Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hugge
Po. With amplest entertainment: My free drift
Po. Halts not particularly, but moues it selfe
Po. In a wide Sea of wax, no leuell'd malice
Po. Infects one comma in the course I hold,
Po. But flies an Eagle flght, bold, and forth on,
Po. Leauing no Tract behinde.
Pain. How shall I vnderstand you?
Poet. I will vnboult to you.