Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Post. 'Please your Highnesse,
Post. I will from hence to day.
Qu. Qu.
Qu. You know the perill:
Qu. Ile fetch a turne about the Garden, pittying
Qu. The pangs of barr'd Affections, though the King
Qu. Hath charg'd you should not speake together.
Qu. Exit
Imo. Imo.
Imo. O dissembling Curtesie! How fine this Tyrant
Imo. Can tickle where she wounds? My deerest Husband,
Imo. I something feare my Fathers wrath, but nothing
Imo. (Alwayes reseru'd my holy duty) what
Imo. His rage can do on me. You must be gone,
Imo. And I shall heere abide the hourely shot
Imo. Of angry eyes: not comforted to liue,
Imo. But that there is this Iewell in the world,
Imo. That I may see againe.
Post. Post.
Post. My Queene, my Mistris: