Enter Domitius Enobarbus and Eros, meeting
Caesar, having made use of him in the wars 'gainst Pompey, presently denied him rivality; would not let him partake in the glory of the action: and not resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him: so the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine.
Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more; And throw between them all the food thou hast, They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony?
He's walking in the garden—thus; and spurns The rush that lies before him; cries, 'Fool Lepidus!' And threats the throat of that his officer That murder'd Pompey.
For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius; My lord desires you presently: my news I might have told hereafter.