Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Tit. And worse then Progne, I will be reueng'd,
Tit. And now prepare your throats: Lauinia come.
Tit. Receiue the blood, and when that they are dead,
Tit. Let me goe grin'd their Bones to powder small,
Tit. And with this hatefull Liquor temper it,
Tit. And in that Paste let their vil'd Heads be bakte,
Tit. Come, come, be euery one officious,
Tit. To make this Banket, which I wish might proue,
Tit. More sterne and bloody then the Centaures Feast.
Tit. He cuts their throats.
Tit. So now bring them in, for Ile play the Cooke,
Tit. And see them ready, gainst their Mother comes.
Tit. Exeunt.
Tit. [Act 5, Scene 3]
Tit. Enter Lucius, Marcus, and the Gothes.
Luc. Luc.
Luc. Vnckle Marcus, since 'tis my Fathers minde
Luc. That I repair to Rome, I am content.
Goth. Goth.
Goth. And ours with thine befall, what Fortune will.