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Trouble yourselves no further: pray you, hasten
Your generals after. Sir, Mark Antony
Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow. Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress,
Which will become you both, farewell. We shall,
As I conceive the journey, be at the Mount
Before you, Lepidus. Your way is shorter;
My purposes do draw me much about:
You'll win two days upon me.
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