Cleo. O, my pardon!
Ant. Now I must
To the young man send humble treaties, dodge
And palter in the shifts of lowness; who
With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased,
Making and marring fortunes. You did know
How much you were my conqueror, and that
My sword, made weak by my affection, would
Obey it on all cause.
Cleo. Pardon, pardon!
Ant. Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates
All that is won and lost: give me a kiss; 70 Even this repays me. We sent our schoolmaster; Is he come back? Love, I am full of lead.
Some wine, within there, and our viands! Fortune
We scorn her most when most she offers blows.
Egypt. Cæsar's camp. Enter Cæsar, Dolabella, Thyreus, with others.
Cœs. Let him appear that's come from Antony.
Know you him?
DoL Cæsar, 'tis his schoolmaster:
An argument that he is pluck'd, when hither
He sends so poor a pinion of his wing,
Which had superfluous kings for messengers
Not many moons gone by.