Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Yor. (So my vntruth had not prouok'd him to it)
Yor. The King had cut off my head with my brothers.
Yor. What, are there postes dispatcht for Ireland?
Yor. How shall we do for money for these warres?
Yor. Come sister (Cozen I would say) pray pardon me.
Yor. Go fellow, get thee home, poouide some Carts,
Yor. And bring away the Armour that is there.
Yor. Gentlemen, will you muster men?
Yor. If I know how, or which way to order these affaires
Yor. Thus disorderly thrust into my hands,
Yor. Neuer beleeue me. Both are my kinsmen,
Yor. Th'one is my Soueraigne, whom both my oath
Yor. And dutie bids defend: th'other againe
Yor. Is my kinsman, whom the King hath wrong'd,
Yor. Whom conscience, and my kindred bids to right:
Yor. Well, somewhat we must do: Come Cozen,
Yor. Ile dispose of you. Gentlemen, go muster vp your men,
Yor. And meet me presently at Barkley Castle:
Yor. I should to Plashy too: but time will not permit,
Yor. All is vneuen, and euery thing is left at six and seuen.