Cæs. Alas my heart doth cleaue, pittie me rackes,
My breast doth pant to heare this dolefull tale.
Is Antonie then dead? To death, alas!
I am the cause despaire him so compelld.
But souldiour of his death the maner showe,
And how he did this liuing light forgoe.
Dir. When Antonie no hope remaining saw
How warre he might, or how agreement make,
Saw him betraid by all his men of warre
In euery fight as well by sea, as lande;