Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Tim. Thou art a Slaue, whom Fortunes tender arme
Tim. With fauour neuer claspt: but bred a Dogge.
Tim. Had'st thou like vs from our first swath proceeded,
Tim. The sweet degrees that this breefe world affords,
Tim. To such as may the passiue drugges of it
Tim. Freely command'st: thou would'st haue plung'd thy self
Tim. In generall Riot, melted downe thy youth
Tim. In different beds of Lust, and neuer learn'd
Tim. The Icie precepts of respect, but followed
Tim. The Sugred game before thee. But my selfe,
Tim. Who had the world as my Confectionarie,
Tim. The mouthes, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men,
Tim. At duty more then I could frame employment;
Tim. That numberlesse vpon me stucke, as leaues
Tim. Do on the Oake, haue with one Winters brush
Tim. Fell from their boughes, and left me open, bare,
Tim. For euery storme that blowes. I to beare this,
Tim. That neuer knew but better, is some burthen:
Tim. Thy Nature, did commence in sufferance, Time
Tim. Hath made thee hard in't. Why should'st yu hate Men?