Ant. Now, by my sword,—
Cle. And target. Still he mends;
But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian,
How this Herculean Roman does become
The carriage of his chafe.
(i. iii. 80.)
But at the word of his leaving she is at once all wistful tenderness:
Courteous lord, one word.
Sir, you and I must part, but that’s not it:
Sir, you and I have loved, but there’s not it;