Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Ant. Let me speake a little. This youth that you see (heere,
Ant. I snatch'd one halfe out of the iawes of death,
Ant. Releeu'd him with such sanctitie of loue;
Ant. And to his image, which me thought did promise
Ant. Most venerable worth, did I deuotion.
1. Off. 1. Off.
1. Off. What's that to vs, the time goes by: Away.
Ant. Ant.
Ant. But oh, how vilde an idoll proues this God:
Ant. Thou hast Sebastian done good feature, shame.
Ant. In Nature, there's no blemish but the minde:
Ant. None can be call'd deform'd, but the vnkinde.
Ant. Vertue is beauty, but the beauteous euill
Ant. Are empty trunkes, ore‑flourish'd by the deuill.
1. Off. The man growes mad, away with him:
1. Off. Come, come sir.
Ant. Leade me on.
Ant. Exit