Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Her. Much adoe about Nothing.
Her. To wish him wrastle with affection,
Her. And neuer to let Beatrice know of it.
Vrsula. Vrsula.
Vrsula. Why did you so, doth not the Gentleman
Vrsula. Deserue as full as fortunate a bed,
Vrsula. As euer Beatrice shall couch vpon?
Hero. Hero.
Hero. O God of loue! I know he doth deserue,
Hero. As much as may be yeelded to a man:
Hero. But Nature neuer fram'd a womans heart,
Hero. Of prowder stuffe then that of Beatrice:
Hero. Disdaine and Scorne ride sparkling in her eyes,
Hero. Mis‑prizing what they looke on, and her wit
Hero. Values it selfe so highly, that to her
Hero. All matter else seemes weake: she cannot loue,
Hero. Nor take no shape nor proiect of affection,
Hero. Shee is so selfe indeared.
Vrsula. Sure I thinke so,