Eno.

How now, friend Eros!

Eros.

There's strange news come, sir.

Eno.

What, ^note man?

Eros.

Cæsar and Lepidus have made wars ^note upon ^note Pompey.

Eno.

This ^note is old: what is ^note the success?

Eros.

Cæsar, having made use of him in the ^note wars 'gainst Pompey, presently denied him rivality ^note; would not let him partake in the glory of the action ^note: and ^note not resting here, accuses him of letters he ^note had formerly wrote ^note to Pompey; upon his own ^note appeal, seizes ^note him: ^note so the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine. ^note

Eno.
Then, world, thou hast ^note a pair of chaps, no ^note more;
And throw between them all the food thou hast,
They'll grind the one the other ^note. Where's ^note Antony? ^note

Eros.
He's walking in the garden—thus; ^note and spurns
The rush that lies before him; cries ‘Fool Lepidus!’
And threats ^note the throat of that his officer
That murder'd Pompey.

Eno.
Our great navy's ^note rigg'd.

Eros.
For Italy and Cæsar. More, ^note Domitius;
My lord desires you presently: my news

I might have told hereafter.

Eno.
'Twill be naught:
But let it be. Bring me to Antony. ^note

Eros.
Come, sir. [Exeunt. ^note

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