Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Brut. Are then in councell; and the state of a man,
Brut. Like to a little Kingdome, suffers then
Brut. The nature of an Insurrection.
Brut. Enter Lucius.
Luc. Luc.
Luc. Sir, 'tis your Brother Cassius at the Doore,
Luc. Who doth desire to see you.
Brut. Brut.
Brut. Is he alone?
Luc. No, Sir, there are moe with him.
Brut. Doe you know them?
Luc. No, Sir, their Hats are pluckt about their Eares,
Luc. And halfe their Faces buried in their Cloakes,
Luc. That by no meanes I may discouer them,
Luc. By any marke of fauour.
Brut. Let 'em enter: