Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Corio. If not most mortall to him. But let it come:
Corio. Auffidius, though I cannot make true Warres,
Corio. Ile frame conuenient peace. Now good Auffidius,
Corio. Were you in my steed, would you haue heard
Corio. A Mother lesse? or granted lesse Auffidius?
Auf. Auf.
Auf. I was mou'd withall.
Corio. Corio.
Corio. I dare be sworne you were:
Corio. And sir, it is no little thing to make
Corio. Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But (good sir)
Corio. What peace you'l make, aduise me: For my part,
Corio. Ile not to Rome, Ile backe with you, and pray you
Corio. Stand to me in this cause. Oh Mother! Wife!
Auf. I am glad thou hast set thy mercy, & thy Honor
Auf. At difference in thee: Out of that Ile worke
Auf. My selfe a former Fortune.
Corio. I by and by; But we will drinke together: