Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Aron. Weeke, weeke, so cries a Pigge prepared to th'spit.
Deme. Deme.
Deme. What mean'st thou Aaron?
Deme. Wherefore did'st thou this?
Aron. Aron.
Aron. O Lord sir, 'tis a deed of pollicie?
Aron. Shall she liue to betray this guilt of our's:
Aron. A long tongu'd babling Gossip? No Lords no:
Aron. And now be it knowne to you my full intent.
Aron. Not farre, one Muliteus my Country‑man
Aron. His wife but yesternight was brought to bed,
Aron. His childe is like to her, faire as you are:
Aron. Goe packe with him, and giue the mother gold,
Aron. And tell them both the circumstance of all,
Aron. And how by this their Childe shall be aduaunc'd,
Aron. And be receiued for the Emperours heyre,
Aron. And substituted in the place of mine,
Aron. To calme this tempest whirling in the Court,
Aron. And let the Emperour dandle him for his owne.
Aron. Harke ye Lords, ye see I haue giuen her physicke,