Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Antho. We
Antho. The Tragedie of
Antho. We wish it ours againe. The present pleasure,
Antho. By reuolution lowring, does become
Antho. The opposite of it selfe: she's good being gon,
Antho. The hand could plucke her backe, that shou'd her on.
Antho. I must from this enchanting Queene breake off,
Antho. Ten thousand harmes, more then the illes I know
Antho. My idlenesse doth hatch.
Antho. Enter Enobarbus.
Antho. How now Enobarbus.
Eno. Eno.
Eno. What's your pleasure, Sir?
Anth. Anth.
Anth. I must with haste from hence.
Eno. Why then we kill all our Women. We see how
Eno. mortall an vnkindnesse is to them, if they suffer our de
Eno. parture death's the word.
Ant. Ant.