Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Hell. All's Well, that Ends Well
Hell. Must I be comforted, not in his sphere;
Hell. Th' ambition in my loue thus plagues it selfe:
Hell. The hind that would be mated by the Lion
Hell. Must die for loue. 'Twas prettie, though a plague
Hell. To see him euerie houre to sit and draw
Hell. His arched browes, his hawking eie, his curles
Hell. In our hearts table: heart too capeable
Hell. Of euerie line and tricke of his sweet fauour.
Hell. But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancie
Hell. Must sanctifie his Reliques. Who comes heere?
Hell. Enter Parrolles.
Hell. One that goes with him: I loue him for his sake,
Hell. And yet I know him a notorious Liar,
Hell. Thinke him a great way foole, solie a coward,
Hell. Yet these fixt euils sit so fit in him,
Hell. That they take place, when Vertues steely bones
Hell. Lookes bleake i'th cold wind: withall, full ofte we see
Hell. Cold wisedome waighting on superfluous follie.
Par. Par.