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To Lydia and to Ionia: whilst—

Ant. Antony, thou wouldst say,—

Mess. O! my lord.

Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue;

Name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome;

Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults

With such full licence as both truth and malice

Have power to utter. O! then we bring forth weeds

When our quick minds lie still; and our ills told us

Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile.

Mess. At your noble pleasure.

Ant. From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there!

[First Att.] The man from Sicyon, is there such an one?

[Sec. Att.] He stays upon your will.

Ant. Let him appear.

These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,

Or lose myself in dotage.

What are you?

[Sec. Mess.] Fulvia thy wife is dead.

Ant. Where died she?

[Sec. Mess.] In Sicyon:

Her length of sickness, with what else more serious

Importeth thee to know, this bears.

[Giving a letter.]

Ant. Forbear me.

There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it:

What our contempts do often hurl from us

We wish it ours again; the present pleasure,

 120 earing: ploughing

133–135 the present pleasure itself; cf. n.

