In Fulvia’s death, how mine received shall be.
(i. iii. 62.)
When his distress is not to be confined, she taxes him with mourning for his wife:
I prithee, turn aside and weep for her;
Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears
Belong to Egypt.
(i. iii. 76.)
When he loses patience, she mocks at him:
Ant. You’ll heat my blood: no more.
Cle. You can do better yet; but this is meetly.