Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Pro. To make the deere losse, haue I meanes much weaker
Pro. Then you may call to comfort you; for I
Pro. Haue lost my daughter.
Alo. Alo.
Alo. A daughter?
Alo. Oh heauens, that they were liuing both in Naples
Alo. The King and Queene there, that they were, I wish
Alo. My selfe were mudded in that oo‑zie bed
Alo. Where my sonne lies: when did you lose your daughter?
Pro. Pro.
Pro. In this last Tempest. I perceiue these Lords
Pro. At this encounter doe so much admire,
Pro. That they deuoure their reason, and scarce thinke
Pro. Their eies doe offices of Truth: Their words
Pro. Are naturall breath: but howsoeu'r you haue
Pro. Beene iustled from your sences, know for certain
Pro. That I am Prospero, and that very Duke
Pro. Which was thrust forth of Millaine, who most strangely
Pro. Vpon this shore (where you were wrackt) was landed
Pro. To be the Lord on't: No more yet of this,