Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Cleo. Which is my heauen to haue. Come thou mortal wretch,
Cleo. With thy sharpe teeth this knot intrinsicate,
Cleo. Of life at once vntye: Poore venomous Foole,
Cleo. Be angry, and dispatch. Oh could'st thou speake,
Cleo. That I might heare thee call great Cæsar Asse, vnpolicied.
Char. Char.
Char. Oh Easterne Starre.
Cleo. Cleo.
Cleo. Peace, peace:
Cleo. Dost thou not see my Baby at my breast,
Cleo. That suckes the Nurse asleepe.
Char. O breake! O breake!
Cleo. As sweet as Balme, as soft as Ayre, as gentle.
Cleo. O Anthony! Nay I will take thee too.
Cleo. What should I stay⸺
Cleo. Dyes.
Char. In this wilde World? So fare thee well: