Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Corio. And make my misery serue thy turne: So vse it,
Corio. That my reuengefull Seruices may proue
Corio. As Benefits to thee. For I will fight
Corio. Against my Cankred Countrey, with the Spleene
Corio. Of all the vnder Fiends. But if so be,
Corio. Thou dar'st not this, and that to proue more Fortunes
Corio. Th'art tyr'd, then in a word, I also am
Corio. Longer to liue most wearie: and present
Corio. My throat to thee, and to thy Ancient Malice:
Corio. Which not to cut, would shew thee but a Foole,
Corio. Since I haue euer followed thee with hate,
Corio. Drawne Tunnes of Blood out of thy Countries brest,
Corio. And cannot liue but to thy shame, vnlesse
Corio. It be to do thee seruice.
Auf. Auf.
Auf. Oh Martius, Martius;
Auf. Each word thou hast spoke, hath weeded from my heart
Auf. A roote of Ancient Enuy. If Iupiter
Auf. Should from yond clowd speake diuine things,
Auf. And say 'tis true; I'de not beleeue them more