Cleo. Oh my pardon
Ant. Now I must
To the young man send humble Treaties, dodge
And palter in the shifts of lownes, who
With halfe the bulke o'th' world plaid as I pleas'd,
Making, and marring Fortunes. You did know
How much you were my Conqueror, and that
My Sword, made weake by my affection, would
Obey it on all cause
Cleo. Pardon, pardon
Ant. Fall not a teare I say, one of them rates
All that is wonne and lost: Giue me a kisse,
Euen this repayes me.
We sent our Schoolemaster, is a come backe?
Loue I am full of Lead: some Wine
Within there, and our Viands: Fortune knowes,
We scorne her most, when most she offers blowes.
Exeunt.
Enter Caesar, Agrippa, and Dollabello, with others.
Caes Let him appeare that's come from Anthony.
Know you him
Dolla. Caesar, 'tis his Schoolemaster,
An argument that he is pluckt, when hither
He sends so poore a Pinnion of his Wing,
Which had superfluous Kings for Messengers,
Not many Moones gone by.
Enter Ambassador from Anthony.
Caesar. Approach, and speake
Amb. Such as I am, I come from Anthony:
I was of late as petty to his ends,
As is the Morne-dew on the Mertle leafe
To his grand Sea