I have known, sir.
At sea, I think.
We have, sir.
You have done well by water.
And you by land.
I will praise any man that will praise me; though it
cannot be denied what I have done by land.
Nor what I have done by water.
Yes, something you can deny for your own
safety: you have been a great thief by sea.
And you by land.
There I deny my land service. But give me your
hand, Menas: if our eyes had authority, here they
might take two thieves kissing.
All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their hands are.
But there is never a fair woman has a true face.
No slander; they steal hearts.
We came hither to fight with you.
For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a drinking.
Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune.
If he do, sure, he cannot weep't back again.
You've said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony
here: pray you, is he married to Cleopatra?
Caesar's sister is called Octavia.
True, sir; she was the wife of Caius Marcellus.
But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius.
Pray ye, sir?
'Tis true.
Then is Caesar and he for ever knit together.
If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would
not prophesy so.
I think the policy of that purpose made more in the
marriage than the love of the parties.
I think so too. But you shall find, the band that
seems to tie their friendship together will be the
very strangler of their amity: Octavia is of a
holy, cold, and still conversation.
Who would not have his wife so?
Not he that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony.
He will to his Egyptian dish again: then shall the
sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Caesar; and, as
I said before, that which is the strength of their
amity shall prove the immediate author of their
variance. Antony will use his affection where it is:
he married but his occasion here.
And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard?
I have a health for you.
I shall take it, sir: we have used our throats in Egypt.
Come, let's away.
Here they'll be, man. Some o' their plants are
ill-rooted already: the least wind i' the world
will blow them down.
Lepidus is high-coloured.
They have made him drink alms-drink.
As they pinch one another by the disposition, he
cries out 'No more;' reconciles them to his
entreaty, and himself to