Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Brut. Which hatch'd, would as his kinde grow mischieuous;
Brut. And kill him in the shell.
Brut. Enter Lucius.
Luc. Luc.
Luc. The Taper burneth in your Closet, Sir:
Luc. Searching the Window for a Flint, I found
Luc. This Paper, thus seal'd vp, and I am sure
Luc. It did not lye there when I went to Bed.
Luc. Giues him the Letter.
Brut. Brut.
Brut. Get you to Bed againe, it is not day:
Brut. Is not to morrow (Boy) the first of March?
Luc. I know not, Sir.
Brut. Looke in the Calender, and bring me word.
Luc. I will, Sir.
Luc. Exit.