Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Com. I'th'end admire: where Ladies shall be frighted,
Com. And gladly quak'd, heare more: where the dull Tribunes,
Com. That with the fustie Plebeans, hate thine Honors,
Com. Shall say against their hearts, We thanke the Gods
Com. Our Rome hath such a Souldier.
Com. Yet cam'st thou to a Morsell of this Feast,
Com. Hauing fully din'd before.
Com. Enter Titus with his Power, from the Pursuit.
Titus Lartius. Titus Lartius.
Titus Lartius. Oh Generall:
Titus Lartius. Here is the Steed, wee the Caparison:
Titus Lartius. Hadst thou beheld⸺
Martius. Martius.
Martius. Pray now, no more:
Martius. My Mother, who ha's a Charter to extoll her Bloud,
Martius. When she do's prayse me, grieues me:
Martius. I haue done as you haue done, that's what I can,
Martius. Induc'd as you haue beene, that's for my Countrey:
Martius. He that ha's but effected his good will,
Martius. Hath ouerta'ne mine Act