Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Hell. He must not be my brother.
Ol. Cou. Ol. Cou.
Ol. Cou. Nor I your Mother.
Hell. Hell.
Hell. You are my mother Madam, would you were
Hell. So that my Lord your sonne were not my brother,
Hell. Indeede my mother, or were you both our mothers,
Hell. I care no more for, then I doe for heauen,
Hell. So I were not his sister, cant no other,
Hell. But I your daughter, he must be my brother.
Old. Cou. Old. Cou.
Old. Cou. Yes Hellen, you might be my daughter in law,
Old. Cou. God shield you meane it not, daughter and mother
Old. Cou. So striue vpon your pulse; vvhat pale agen?
Old. Cou. My feare hath catcht your fondnesse! now I see
Old. Cou. The mistrie of your louelinesse, and finde
Old. Cou. Your salt teares head, now to all sence 'tis grosse:
Old. Cou. You loue my sonne, inuention is asham'd
Old. Cou. Against the proclamation of thy passion
Old. Cou. To say thou doost not: therefore tell me true,