Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Sooth. But he alway 'tis Noble.
Anth. Anth.
Anth. Get thee gone:
Anth. Say to Ventigius I would speake with him.
Anth. Exit.
Anth. He shall to Parthia, be it Art or hap,
Anth. He hath spoken true. The very Dice obey him,
Anth. And in our sports my better cunning faints,
Anth. Vnder his chance, if we draw lots he speeds,
Anth. His Cocks do winne the Battaile, still of mine,
Anth. When it is all to naught: and his Quailes euer
Anth. Beate mine (in hoopt) at odd's. I will to Egypte:
Anth. And
Anth. The Tragedie of
Anth. And though I make this marriage for my peace,
Anth. I'th'East my pleasure lies. Oh come Ventigius.
Anth. Enter Ventigius.
Anth. You must to Parthia, your Commissions ready:
Anth. Follow me, and reciue't.
Anth. Exeunt