Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Hero. Is little Cupids crafty arrow made,
Hero. That onely wounds by heare‑say: now begin,
Hero. Enter Beatrice.
Hero. For looke where Beatrice like a Lapwing runs
Hero. Close by the ground, to heare our conference.
Vrs. Vrs.
Vrs. The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish
Vrs. Cut with her golden ores the siluer streame,
Vrs. And greedily deuoure the treacherous baite:
Vrs. So angle we for Beatrice, who euen now,
Vrs. Is couched in the wood‑bine couerture,
Vrs. Feare you not my part of the Dialogue.
Her. Her.
Her. Then go we neare her that her eare loose nothing,
Her. Of the false sweete baite that we lay for it:
Her. No truely Vrsula, she is too disdainfull,
Her. I know her spirits are as coy and wilde,
Her. As Haggerds of the rocke.
Vrsula. Vrsula.
Vrsula. But are you sure,