Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Ant. My Cabine where I lay: thrice bow’d before me,
Ant. And (gasping to begin some speech) her eyes
Ant. Became two spouts; the furie spent, anon
Ant. Did this breake from her. Good Antigonus,
Ant. Since Fate (against thy better disposition)
Ant. Hath made thy person for the Thrower‑out
Ant. Of my poore babe, according to thine oath,
Ant. Places remote enough are in Bohemia,
Ant. There weepe, and leaue it crying: and for the babe
Ant. Is counted lost for euer, Perdita
Ant. I prethee call’t: For this vngentle businesse
Ant. Put on thee, by my Lord, thou ne’re shalt see
Ant. Thy Wife Paulina more: and so, with shriekes
Ant. She melted into Ayre. Affrighted much,
Ant. I did in time collect my selfe, and thought
Ant. This was so, and no slumber: Dreames, are toyes,
Ant. Yet for this once, yea superstitiously,
Ant. I will be squar’d by this. I do beleeue
Ant. Hermione hath suffer’d death, and that
Ant. Apollo would (this being indeede the issue