Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Bru. If thou do'st nod, thou break'st thy Instrument,
Bru. Ile take it from thee, and (good Boy) good night.
Bru. Let me see, let me see; is not the Leafe turn'd downe
Bru. Where I left reading? Heere it is I thinke.
Bru. Enter the Ghost of Cæsar.
Bru. How ill this Taper burnes. Ha! Who comes heere?
Bru. I thinke it is the weakenesse of mine eyes
Bru. That shapes this monstrous Apparition.
Bru. It comes vpon me: Art thou any thing?
Bru. Art thou some God, some Angell, or some Diuell,
Bru. That mak'st my blood cold, and my haire to stare?
Bru. Speake to me, what thou art.
Ghost. Ghost.
Ghost. Thy euill Spirit Brutus?
Bru. Bru.
Bru. Why com'st thou?
Bru. Ghost.
Bru. The Tragedie of Iulius Cæsar.
Ghost. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.