Cleo. Ile set a bourne how farre to be belou'd

Ant. Then must thou needes finde out new Heauen,
new Earth.
Enter a Messenger.

Mes. Newes (my good Lord) from Rome

Ant. Grates me, the summe

Cleo. Nay heare them Anthony.
Fuluia perchance is angry: Or who knowes,
If the scarse-bearded Caesar haue not sent
His powrefull Mandate to you. Do this, or this;
Take in that Kingdome, and Infranchise that:
Perform't, or else we damne thee

Ant. How, my Loue?
Cleo. Perchance? Nay, and most like:
You must not stay heere longer, your dismission
Is come from Caesar, therefore heare it Anthony,
Where's Fuluias Processe? (Caesars I would say) both?
Call in the Messengers: As I am Egypts Queene,
Thou blushest Anthony, and that blood of thine
Is Caesars homager: else so thy cheeke payes shame,
When shrill-tongu'd Fuluia scolds. The Messengers

Ant. Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide Arch
Of the raing'd Empire fall: Heere is my space,
Kingdomes are clay: Our dungie earth alike