Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Brut. Shall Rome, &c. Thus must I piece it out:
Brut. Shall Rome stand vnder one mans awe? What Rome?
Brut. My Ancestors did from the streetes of Rome
Brut. The Tarquin driue, when he was call'd a King.
Brut. Speake, strike, redresse. Am I entreated
Brut. To speake, and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise,
Brut. If the redresse will follow, thou receiuest
Brut. Thy full Petition at the hand of Brutus.
Brut. Enter Lucius.
Luc. Luc.
Luc. Sir, March is wasted fifteene dayes.
Luc. Knocke within.
Brut. Brut.
Brut. 'Tis good. Go to the Gate, some body knocks:
Brut. Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar,
Brut. I haue not slept.
Brut. Betweene the acting of a dreadfull thing,
Brut. And the first motion, all the Interim is
Brut. Like a Phantasma, or a hideous Dreame:
Brut. The Genius, and the mortall Instruments