Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Tyta. Tyta.
Tyta. What Angell wakes me from my flowry bed?
Bot. Bot.
Bot. The Finch, the Sparrow, and the Larke,
Bot. The plainsong Cuckow gray;
Bot. Whose note full many a man doth marke,
Bot. And dares not answere, nay.
Bot. For indeede, who would set his wit to so foolish a bird?
Bot. Who would giue a bird the lye, though he cry Cuckow,
Bot. neuer so?
Tyta. I pray thee gentle mortall, sing againe,
Tyta. Mine eare is much enamored of thy note;
Tyta. On the first view to say, to sweare I loue thee.
Tyta. So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape.
Tyta. And thy faire vertues force (perforce) doth moue me.
Bot. Me‑thinkes mistresse, you should haue little
Bot. reason for that: and yet to say the truth, reason and
Bot. loue keepe little company together, now‑adayes.