Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Cel. Cel.
Cel. I warrant you, with pure loue, & troubled brain,
Cel. Enter Siluius.
Cel. He hath t'ane his bow and arrowes, and is gone forth
Cel. To sleepe: looke who comes here.
Sil. Sil.
Sil. My errand is to you, faire youth,
Sil. My gentle Phebe, did bid me giue you this:
Sil. I know not the contents, but as I guesse
Sil. By the sterne brow, and waspish action
Sil. Which she did vse, as she was writing of it,
Sil. It beares an angry tenure; pardon me,
Sil. I am but as a guiltlesse messenger.
Ros. Ros.
Ros. Patience her selfe would startle at this letter,
Ros. And play the swaggerer, beare this, beare all:
Ros. Shee saies I am not faire, that I lacke manners,
Ros. She calls me proud, and that she could not loue me
Ros. Were man as rare as Phenix: 'od's my will,
Ros. Her loue is not the Hare that I doe hunt,