Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Tim. I not desire to know. Follow thy Drumme,
Tim. With mans blood paint the ground Gules, Gules:
Tim. Religious Cannons, ciuill Lawes are cruell,
Tim. Then what should warre be? This fell whore of thine,
Tim. Hath in her more destruction then thy Sword,
Tim. For all her Cherubin looke.
Phrin. Phrin.
Phrin. Thy lips rot off.
Tim. Tim.
Tim. I will not kisse thee, then the rot returnes
Tim. To thine owne lippes againe.
Alc. Alc.
Alc. How came the Noble Timon to this change?
Tim. As the Moone do's, by wanting light to giue:
Tim. But then renew I could not like the Moone,
Tim. There were no Sunnes to borrow of.
Alc. Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee?