e such sturre doth kepe,
And thornes me still, both when I wake and slepe.
Take _Caesar_ conquest, take my goods, take he
Th'onor to be Lord of the earth alone,
My Sonnes, my life bent headlong to mishapps:
No force, so not my _Cleopatra_ take.
So foolish I, I can not her forget,
Though better were I banisht her my thought.
Like to the sicke, whose throte the feauers fire
Hath vehemently with thirstie drouth enflam'd,
Drinkes still, albee the drinke he still desires
Be nothing else but fewell to his flame:
He can not rule himselfe: his health's respect
Yeldeth to his distempred stomackes heate.

_Lu._ Leaue of this loue, that thus renewes your woe.

_Ant._ I do my best, but ah! can not do so.

_Lu._ Thinke how you haue so braue a captaine bene,
And now are by this vaine affection falne.

_Ant._ The ceasles thought of my felicitie
Plunges me more in this aduersitie._
For nothing so a man in ill torments,
As who to him his good state represents.
_This makes my rack, my anguish, and my woe
Equall vnto the hellish passions growe,
When I to minde my happie puisance call
Which erst I had by warlike conquest wonne,
And that good fortune which me neuer left,
Which hard disastre now hath me bereft.
With terror tremble all the world I made
At my sole worde, as Rushes in the streames
At waters will: I conquer'd Italie,
I conquer'd _Rome_, that Nations so redoubt.
I bare (meane while besieging _Mutina_)
Two Consuls armies for my ruine brought,
Bath'd in their bloud, by their deaths witnessing
My force and skill in matters Martiall.
To wreake thy vnkle, vnkinde _Caesar_, I
With bloud of enemies the bankes embru'd
Of stain'd _Enipeus_, hindering his course
Stopped with heapes of piled carcases:
When _Cassius_ and _Brutus_ ill betide
Marcht against vs, by vs twise put to flight,
But by my sole conduct: for all the time
_Caesar_ heart-sicke with feare and feauer laie.
Who knowes it not? and how by euery one
Fame of the fact was giu'n to me alone.
There sprang the loue, the neuer changing loue,
Wherein my hart hath since to yours bene bound:
There was it, my _Lucil_, you _Brutus_ sau'de,
And for your _Brutus_ _Antonie_ you found.
Better my happ in gaining such a frende,
Then in subduing such an enemie.
Now former vertue dead doth me forsake,
Fortune engulfes me in extreame distresse:
She turnes from me