I am call'd Decretas,
Marke Anthony I seru'd, who best was worthie
Best to be seru'd: whil'st he stood vp, and spoke
He was my Master, and I wore my life
To spend vpon his haters. If thou please
To take me to thee, as I was to him,
Ile be to Caesar: if y pleasest not, I yeild thee vp my life
Caesar. What is't thou say'st?
Dec. I say (Oh Caesar) Anthony is dead
Caesar. The breaking of so great a thing, should make
A greater cracke. The round World
Should haue shooke Lyons into ciuill streets,
And Cittizens to their dennes. The death of Anthony
Is not a single doome, in the name lay
A moity of the world
Dec. He is dead Caesar,
Not by a publike minister of Iustice,
Nor by a hyred Knife, but that selfe-hand
Which writ his Honor in the Acts it did,
Hath with the Courage which the heart did lend it,
Splitted the heart. This is his Sword,
I robb'd his wound of it: behold it stain'd
With his most Noble blood
Caes Looke you sad Friends,
The Gods rebuke me, but it is Tydings
To wash the eyes of Kings
Dol. And strange it is,
That Nature must compell vs to lament
Our most persisted deeds
Mec. His taints and Honours, wag'd equal with him
Dola. A Rarer spirit neuer
Did steere humanity: but you Gods will giue vs
Some faults to make vs men. Caesar is touch'd
Mec. When such a spacious Mirror's set before him,
He needes must see him selfe
Caesar. Oh Anthony,
I haue followed thee to this, but we do launch
Diseases in our Bodies.
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