Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Hub. The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope,
Hub. And giue you entrance: but without this match,
Hub. The sea enraged is not halfe so deafe,
Hub. Lyons more confident, Mountaines and rockes
Hub. More free from motion, no not death himselfe
Hub. In mortall furie halfe so peremptorie,
Hub. As we to keepe this Citie.
Bast. Bast.
Bast. Heeres a stay,
Bast. That shakes the rotten carkasse of old death
Bast. Out of his ragges. Here's a large mouth indeede,
Bast. That spits forth death, and mountaines, rockes, and seas,
Bast. Talkes as familiarly of roaring Lyons,
Bast. As maids of thirteene do of puppi‑dogges.
Bast. What Cannoneere begot this lustie blood,
Bast. He speakes plaine Cannon fire, and smoake, and bounce,
Bast. He giues the bastinado with his tongue:
Bast. Our eares are cudgel'd, not a word of his
Bast. But buffets better then a fist of France:
Bast. Zounds, I was neuer so bethumpt with words,