Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Ant. And as he pluck'd his cursed Steele away:
Ant. Marke how the blood of Cæsar followed it,
Ant. As rushing out of doores, to be resolu'd
Ant. If Brutus so vnkindely knock'd, or no:
Ant. For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsars Angel.
Ant. Iudge, O you Gods, how deerely Cæsar lou'd him:
Ant. This was the most vnkindest cut of all.
Ant. For when the Noble Cæsar saw him stab,
Ant. Ingratitude, more strong then Traitors armes,
Ant. Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his Mighty heart,
Ant. And in his Mantle, muffling vp his face,
Ant. Euen at the Base of Pompeyes Statue
Ant. (Which all the while ran blood) great Cæsar fell.
Ant. O what a fall was there, my Countrymen?
Ant. Then I, and you, and all of vs fell downe,
Ant. Whil'st bloody Treason flourish'd ouer vs.
Ant. O now you weepe, and I perceiue you feele
Ant. The dint of pitty: These are gracious droppes.
Ant. Kinde Soules, what weepe you, when you but behold
Ant. Our Cæsars Vesture wounded? Looke you heere,