Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Ma. Ma.
Ma. Come, come, you talke greasely, your lips grow
Ma. foule.
Clo. Clo.
Clo. She's too hard for you at pricks, sir challenge her
Clo. to boule.
Boy. Boy.
Boy. I feare too much rubbing: good night my good
Boy. Oule.
Clo. By my soule a Swaine, a most simple Clowne.
Clo. Lord, Lord, how the Ladies and I haue put him downe.
Clo. O my troth most sweete iests, most inconie vulgar wit,
Clo. When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it were,
Clo. so fit.
Clo. Armathor ath to the side, O a most dainty man.
Clo. To see him walke before a Lady, and to beare her Fan.
Clo. To see him kisse his hand, and how most sweetly a will
Clo. sweare:
Clo. And his Page atother side, that handfull of wit,