SCENE II.
Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.
Enter Antony, Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, Iras, Alexas, and Others.
Ant.
He will not fight with me, Domitius.
Eno.
No.
Ant.
Why should he not?
Eno.
He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,
He is twenty men to one.
Ant.
To-morrow, soldier,
By sea and land I'll fight: or I will live,
Or bathe my dying honour in the blood
Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well?
Eno.
I'll strike; and cry, Take all3 note
.
-- 339 --
Ant.
Well said; come on.—
Call forth my household servants; let's to-night
Enter Servants.
Be bounteous at our meal.—Give me thy hand,
Thou hast been rightly honest;—so hast thou;—
And thou4 note,—and thou,—and thou:—you have serv'd me well,
And kings have been your fellows.
Cleo.
What means this?
Eno.
'Tis one of those odd tricks5 note, which sorrow shoots
[Aside.
Out of the mind.
Ant.
And thou art honest too.
I wish, I could be made so many men;
And all of you clapp'd up together in
An Antony; that I might do you service,
So good as you have done.
Serv.
The gods forbid!
Ant.
Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night:
Scant not my cups; and make as much of me,
As when mine empire was your fellow too,
And suffer'd my command.
Cleo.
What does he mean?
Eno.
To make his followers weep.
Ant.
Tend me to-night;
May be, it is the period of your duty:
Haply, you shall not see me more; or if,
-- 340 --
A mangled shadow6 note
: perchance7 note, to-morrow
You'll serve another master. I look on you,
As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends,
I turn you not away; but, like a master
Married to your good service, stay till death:
Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more,
And the gods yield you for't8 note!
Eno.
What mean you, sir,
To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep;
And I, an ass, am onion-ey'd9 note
; for shame,
Transform us not to women.
Ant.
Ho, ho, ho1 note
!
-- 341 --
Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus!
Grace grow where those drops fall2 note
! My hearty friends,
You take me in too dolorous a sense:
For I spake to you3 note
for your comfort: did desire you
-- 342 --
To burn this night with torches: Know, my hearts,
I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you,
Where rather I'll expect victorious life,
Than death and honour4 note. Let's to supper; come,
And drown consideration.
[Exeunt.
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
