Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Cor. I do not like her. She doth thinke she ha's
Cor. Strange ling'ring poysons: I do know her spirit,
Cor. And will not trust one of her malice, with
Cor. A drugge of such damn'd Nature. Those she ha's,
Cor. Will stupifie and dull the Sense a‑while,
Cor. Which first (perchance) shee'l proue on Cats and Dogs,
Cor. Then afterward vp higher: but there is
Cor. No danger in what shew of death it makes,
Cor. More then the locking vp the Spirits a time,
Cor. To be more fresh, reuiuing. She is fool'd
Cor. With a most false effect: and I, the truer,
Cor. So to be false with her.
Qu. Qu.
Qu. No further seruice, Doctor,
Qu. Vntill I send for thee.
Cor. Cor.
Cor. I humbly take my leaue.
Cor. Exit.
Qu. Weepes she still (saist thou?)