Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Iul. Iul.
Iul. Nay, that I will not.
Luc. Luc.
Luc. Then neuer dreame on Infamy, but go:
Luc. If Protheus like your iourney, when you come,
Luc. No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone:
Luc. I feare me he will scarce be pleas'd with all.
Iul. That is the least (Lucetta) of my feare:
Iul. A thousand oathes, an Ocean of his teares,
Iul. And instances of infinite of Loue,
Iul. Warrant me welcome to my Protheus.
Luc. All these are seruants to deceitfull men.
Iul. Base men, that vse them to so base effect;
Iul. But truer starres did gouerne Protheus birth,
Iul. His words are bonds, his oathes are oracles,
Iul. His loue sincere, his thoughts immaculate,
Iul. His teares, pure messengers, sent from his heart,