Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Messa. My Masters man. Strato, where is thy Master?
Stra. Stra.
Stra. Free from the Bondage you are in Messala,
Stra. The Conquerors can but make a fire of him:
Stra. For Brutus onely ouercame himselfe,
Stra. And no man else hath Honor by his death.
Lucil. Lucil.
Lucil. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee Brutus
Lucil. That thou hast prou'd Lucillius saying true.
Octa. Octa.
Octa. All that seru'd Brutus, I will entertaine them.
Octa. Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
Stra. I, if Messala will preferre me to you.
Octa. Do so, good Messala.
Messa. Messa.
Messa. How dyed my Master Strato?
Stra. I held the Sword, and he did run on it.