MARK ANTONY: Say to me,
Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Caesar's or mine? 
Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side:
Thy demon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is
Noble, courageous high, unmatchable,
Where Caesar's is not; but, near him, thy angel 
Becomes a fear, as being o'erpower'd: therefore
Make space enough between you.
MARK ANTONY: Speak this no more.
Soothsayer: To none but thee; no more, but when to thee.
If thou dost play with him at any game,
Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck, 
He beats thee 'gainst the odds: thy lustre thickens,
When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit
Is all afraid to govern thee near him;
But, he away, 'tis noble.
MARK ANTONY: Get thee gone:
Say to Ventidius I would speak with him: