Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Vol. That's not an Office for a friend, my Lord.
Vol. Alarum still.
Vol. Clit. Fly,
Vol. The Tragedie of Iulius Cæsar.
Cly. Cly.
Cly. Fly, flye my Lord, there is no tarrying heere.
Bru. Bru.
Bru. Farewell to you, and you, and Volumnius.
Bru. Strato, thou hast bin all this while asleepe:
Bru. Farewell to thee, to Strato, Countrymen:
Bru. My heart doth ioy, that yet in all my life,
Bru. I found no man, but he was true to me.
Bru. I shall haue glory by this loosing day
Bru. More then Octauius, and Marke Antony,
Bru. By this vile Conquest shall attaine vnto.
Bru. So fare you well at once, for Brutus tongue
Bru. Hath almost ended his liues History:
Bru. Night hangs vpon mine eyes, my Bones would rest,
Bru. That haue but labour'd, to attaine this houre.
Bru. Alarum. Cry within, Flye, flye, flye.