Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Ant. And looke how well my Garments sit vpon me,
Ant. Much feater then before: My Brothers seruants
Ant. Were then my fellowes, now they are my men.
Seb. Seb.
Seb. But for your conscience.
Ant. Ant.
Ant. I Sir: where lies that? If 'twere a kybe
Ant. 'Twould put me to my slipper: But I feele not
Ant. This Deity in my bosome: 'Twentie consciences
Ant. That stand 'twixt me, and Millaine, candied be they,
Ant. And melt ere they mollest: Heere lies your Brother,
Ant. No better then the earth he lies vpon,
Ant. If he were that which now hee's like (that's dead)
Ant. Whom I with this obedient steele (three inches of it)
Ant. Can lay to bed for euer: whiles you doing thus,
Ant. To the perpetuall winke for aye might put
Ant. This ancient morsell: this Sir Prudence, who
Ant. Should not vpbraid our course: for all the rest
Ant. They'l take suggestion, as a Cat laps milke,
Ant. They'l tell the clocke, to any businesse that