Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Ant. She's dead my Queene.
Ant. Looke heere, and at thy Soueraigne leysure read
Ant. The Garboyles she awak'd: at the last, best,
Ant. See when, and where shee died.
Cleo. Cleo.
Cleo. O most false Loue!
Cleo. Where be the Sacred Violles thou should'st fill
Cleo. With sorrowfull water? Now I see, I see,
Cleo. In Fuluias death, how mine receiu'd shall be.
Ant. Ant.
Ant. Quarrell no more, but bee prepar'd to know
Ant. The purposes I beare: which are, or cease,
Ant. As you shall giue th'aduice. By the fire
Ant. That quickens Nylus slime, I go from hence
Ant. Thy Souldier, Seruant, making Peace or Warre,
Ant. As thou affects.
Cleo. Cut my Lace, Charmian come,
Cleo. But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well,
Cleo. So Anthony loues.