Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Octa. To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did it
Octa. On my free‑will. My Lord Marke Anthony,
Octa. Hearing that you prepar'd for Warre, acquainted
Octa. My greeued eare withall: whereon I begg'd
Octa. His pardon for returne.
Cæs. Cæs.
Cæs. Which soone he granted,
Cæs. Being an abstract 'tweene his Lust, and him.
Octa. Octa.
Octa. Do not say so, my Lord.
Cæs. I haue eyes vpon him,
Cæs. And his affaires come to me on the wind: wher is he now?
Octa. My Lord, in Athens.
Cæsar. Cæsar.
Cæsar. No my most wronged Sister, Cleopatra
Cæsar. Hath nodded him to her. He hath giuen his Empire
Cæsar. Vp to a whore, who now are leuying
Cæsar. The Kings o'th'earth for Warre. He hath assembled,