All the great Empire at our beck should bende.
All should obey, the vagabonding Scythes,
The feared Germains, back-shooting Parthians,
Wandring Numidians, Brittons farre remoou’d,
And tawny nations scorched with the Sunne.
But I car’d not: so was my soule possest,
(To my great harme) with burning iealousie:
Fearing least in my absence Antony
Should leauing me retake Octauia.
Char. Such was the rigour of your destinie.