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Messenger He's married, madam. CLEOPATRA The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still? Messenger Should I lie, madam? CLEOPATRA O, I would thou didst, Messenger I crave your highness' pardon. CLEOPATRA He is married? Messenger Take no offence that I would not offend you: CLEOPATRA O, that his fault should make a knave of thee, Exit Messenger CHARMIAN Good your highness, patience. CLEOPATRA In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar. CHARMIAN Many times, madam. CLEOPATRA I am paid for't now. |
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