Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Por. Which sometime hath his houre with euery man.
Por. It will not let you eate, nor talke, nor sleepe;
Por. And could it worke so much vpon your shape,
Por. As it hath much preuayl'd on your Condltion Condition ,
Por. I should not know you Brutus. Deare my Lord,
Por. Make me acquainted with your cause of greefe.
Bru. Bru.
Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all.
Por. Por.
Por. Brutus is wise, and were he not in health,
Por. He would embrace the meanes to come by it.
Bru. Why so I do: good Portia go to bed.
Por. Is Brutus sicke? And is it Physicall
Por. To walke vnbraced, and sucke vp the humours
Por. Of the danke Morning? What, is Brutus sicke?
Por. And will he steale out of his wholsome bed
Por. To dare the vile contagion of the Night?
Por. And tempt the Rhewmy, and vnpurged Ayre,