Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Con. My widow‑comfort, and my sorrowes cure.
Con. Exit.
Fra. Fra.
Fra. I feare some out‑rage, and Ile follow her.
Fra. Exit.
Dol. Dol.
Dol. There's nothing in this world can make me ioy,
Dol. Life is as tedious as a twice‑told tale,
Dol. Vexing the dull care of a drowsie man;
Dol. And bitter shame hath spoyl'd the sweet words taste,
Dol. That it yeelds nought but shame and bitternesse.
Pand. Pand.
Pand. Before the curing of a strong disease,
Pand. Euen in the instant of repaire and health,
Pand. The fit is strongest: Euils that take leaue
Pand. On their departure, most of all shew euill:
Pand. What haue you lost by losing of this day?
Dol. All daies of glory, ioy, and happinesse.
Pan. Pan.