Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Post. And so I am awake. Poore Wretches, that depend
Post. On Greatnesse, Fauour; Dreame as I haue done,
Post. Wake, and finde nothing. But (alas) I swerue:
Post. Many Dreame not to finde, neither deserue,
Post. And yet are steep'd in Fauours; so am I
Post. That haue this Golden chance, and know not why:
Post. What Fayeries haunt this ground? A Book? Oh rare one,
Post. Be not, as is our fangled world, a Garment
Post. Nobler then that it couers. Let thy effects
Post. So follow, to be most vnlike our Courtiers,
Post. As good, as promise.
Post. Reades.
Post. WHen as a Lyons whelpe, shall to himselfe vnknown, with
Post. out seeking finde, and bee embrac'd by a peece of tender
Post. Ayre: And when from a stately Cedar shall be lopt branches,
Post. which being dead many yeares, shall after reuiue, bee ioynted to
Post. the old Stocke, and freshly grow, then shall Posthumus end his
Post. miseries, Britaine be fortunate, and flourish in Peace and Plen
Post. tie.
Post. 'Tis still a Dreame: or else such stuffe as Madmen