Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Rom. Enter Frier alone with a basket.
Fri. Fri.
Fri. The gray ey'd morne smiles on the frowning night,
Fri. Checkring the Easterne Cloudes with streaks of light:
Fri. And fleckled darknesse like a drunkard reeles,
Fri. From forth daies path, and Titans burning wheeles:
Fri. Now ere the Sun aduance his burning eye,
Fri. The day to cheere, and nights danke dew to dry,
Fri. I must vpfill this Osier Cage of ours,
Fri. With balefull weedes, and precious Iuiced flowers,
Fri. The earth that's Natures mother, is her Tombe,
Fri. What is her burying graue that is her wombe:
Fri. And from her wombe children of diuers kind
Fri. We
Fri. The Tragedie of Romeo and Iuliet.
Fri. We sucking on her naturall bosome find:
Fri. Many for many vertues excellent:
Fri. None but for some, and yet all different.
Fri. O mickle is the powerfull grace that lies
Fri. In Plants, Hearbs, stones, and their true qualities: