Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Brut. Brut.
Brut. 'Tis good. Go to the Gate, some body knocks:
Brut. Since Cassius first did whet me against Cæsar,
Brut. I haue not slept.
Brut. Betweene the acting of a dreadfull thing,
Brut. And the first motion, all the Interim is
Brut. Like a Phantasma, or a hideous Dreame:
Brut. The Genius, and the mortall Instruments
Brut. Are then in councell; and the state of a man,
Brut. Like to a little Kingdome, suffers then
Brut. The nature of an Insurrection.
Brut. Enter Lucius.
Luc. Luc.
Luc. Sir, 'tis your Brother Cassius at the Doore,
Luc. Who doth desire to see you.
Brut. Is he alone?
Luc. No, Sir, there are moe with him.