Achil. He's well wrought: put him on apace for cooling.
[Exeunt.
Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
Enter Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella.
Ant. The tumult still encreases.
Cæsar. O my fortune!
My lustfull folly rather! but 'tis well,
And worthily I am made a bondsmans prey,
That after all my glorious victories,
In which I pass'd so many Seas of dangers,