Cleo.
I will be even with thee, doubt it not.

Eno.
But why, why, why?

Cleo.
Thou hast forespoke my being in these wars;
And say'st, it is not fit.

Eno.
Well; is it, is it?

Cleo.

Is't not denounc'd against us? why should not we be there in person?

Eno.

Well, I could reply; if we should serve with horse and mares together, the horse were merely lost; the mares would bear a soldier and his horse.

Cleo.

What is't you say?

Eno.
Your presence needs must puzzle Antony;
Take from his heart, take from his brain, from's time,
What should not then be spar'd. He is already
Traduc'd for levity, and 'tis said in Rome,
That Photinus an eunuch, and your maids,
Manage this war.

Cleo.
Sink Rome, and their tongues rot
That speak against us! A charge we bear i'th' war;
And, as the President of my Kingdom, will I
Appear there for a man. Speak not against it,
I will not stay behind. Enter Antony and Canidius.

Eno.
Nay, I have done: here comes the Emperor.

Ant.
Is it not strange, Canidius,

That from Tarentum, and Brundusium,
He could so quickly cut th' Ionian sea,
And take in Toryne? You have heard on't, Sweet?

Cleo.
Celerity is never more admir'd
Than by the negligent.

Ant.
A good rebuke,
Which might have well becom'd the best of men
To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we
Will fight with him by sea.

Cleo.
By sea, what else?

Can.
Why will my lord do so?

Ant.
For That he dares us to't.

Eno.
So hath my lord dar'd him to single fight.

Can.
Ay, and to wage this battel at Pharsalia,
Where Cæsar fought with Pompey. But these offers,
Which serve not for his vantage, he shakes off;
And so should you.

Eno.
Your ships are not well mann'd,
Your mariners are muliteers, reapers, people
Ingrost by swift impress. In Cæsar's fleet
Are those, that often have 'gainst Pompey fought;
Their ships are yare, yours heavy: no disgrace
Shall fall you for refusing him at sea,
Being prepar'd for land.

Ant.
By sea, by sea.

Eno.
Most worthy Sir, you therein throw away
The absolute soldiership you have by land;
Distract your army, which doth most consist
Of war-mark'd footmen: leave unexecuted
Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego
The way which promises assurance, and
Give up your Self meerly to chance and hazard,
From firm security.

Ant.
I'll fight at sea.

Cleo.
I have sixty sails, Cæsar none better.

Ant.
Our overplus of shipping will we burn,
And, with the rest full-mann'd, from th' head of Actium
Beat the approaching Cæsar. But if we fail,
We then can do't at land.

Enter a Messenger.
Thy business?

Mes.
The news is true, my lord; he is descried;
Cæsar has taken Toryne.

Ant.
Can he be there in person? 'tis impossible.
Strange, that his Power should be so. Canidius,
Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land,
And our twelve thousand horse. We'll to our ship,
Away, my Thetis! Enter a Soldier.
How now, worthy soldier?

Sold.
Oh noble Emperor, do not fight by sea,
Trust not to rotten planks: do you misdoubt
This sword, and these my wounds? let the Ægyptians
And the Phœnicians go a ducking: we
Have us'd to conquer standing on the earth,
And fighting foot to foot,

Ant.
Well, well, away. [Exeunt Ant. Cleo. and Enob.

Sol.
By Hercules, I think, I am i'th' right.

Can.
Soldier, thou art; but his whole action grows
Not in the power on't: so our leader's led,
And we are womens men.

Sold.
You keep by land
The legions and the horse whole, do you not?

Can.
Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius,
Publicola, and Cælius, are for sea:
But we keep whole by land. This speed of Cæsar's
Carries beyond belief.

Sold.
While he was yet in Rome,
His Power went out in such distractions as
Beguil'd all spies.

Can.
Who's his lieutenant, hear you?

Sold.
They say, one Taurus.

Can.
Well I know the man.

Enter a Messenger.

Mes.
The Emperor calls Canidius.

Can.
With news the time's in labour, and throes forth,
Each minute, some. [Exeunt. Enter Cæsar, with his army marching.

Cæs.
Taurus?

Taur.
My lord.

Cæs.
Strike not by land. Keep whole, provoke not battel,
'Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed
The prescript of this scroul: our fortune lyes
Upon this jump. [Exeunt. Enter Antony and Enobarbus.

Ant.
Set we our squadrons on yond side o'th' hill,
In eye of Cæsar's battle; from which place
We may the number of the ships behold,
And so proceed accordingly. [Exeunt. Canidius, marching with his land-army one way over the stage; and Taurus, the lieutenant of Cæsar, the other way: after their going in, is heard the noise of a seafight. Alarum. Enter Enobarbus.

Eno.
Naught, naught, all naught, I can behold no longer;
Th' Antonias, the Ægyptian admiral,
With all their sixty, flie, and turn the rudder:
To see't, mine eyes are blasted. Enter Scarus.

Scar.
Gods and Goddesses,
All the whole Synod of them!

Eno.
What's thy passion?

Scar.
The greater cantle of the world is lost
With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away
Kingdoms and Provinces.

Eno.
How appears the fight?

Scar.
On our side like the token'd pestilence,
Where death is sure. Your ribauld nag of Ægypt,
(Whom leprosie o'ertake!) i'th' midst o'th' fight,
(When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd
Both as the same, or rather ours the elder;)
The breeze upon her, like a cow in June,
Hoists sails, and flies.

Eno.
That I beheld:
Mine eyes did sicken at the sight, and could not
Endure a further view.

Scar.
She once being looft,
The noble ruin of her magick, Antony,
Claps on his sea-wing, like a doating mallard,
Leaving the fight in height, flies after her:
I never saw an action of such shame;
Experience, manhood, honour ne'er before
Did violate so it self.

Eno.
Alack, alack. Enter Canidius.

Can.
Our fortune on the sea is out of breath,
And sinks most lamentably. Had our General
Been what he knew himself, it had gone well.
Oh, he has given example for our flight,
Most grosly by his own.

Eno.

Ay, are you thereabouts? why then, good night, indeed.

Can.
Toward Peloponnesus are they fled.

Scar.
'Tis easie to't.
And there I will attend what further comes.

Can.
To Cæsar will I render
My legions and my horse; six Kings already
Shew me the way of yielding.

Eno.
I'll yet follow
The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason
Sits in the wind against me. [Exeunt, severally. Enter Antony, with Eros and other attendants.

Ant.
Hark, the land bids me tread no more upon't,
It is asham'd to bear me. Friends, come hither,

I am So lated in the world, that I
Have lost my way for ever. I've a ship
Laden with gold, take That, divide it; flie,
And make your peace with Cæsar.

Omnes.
Fly! not we.

Ant.
I've fled my self, and have instructed cowards
To run, and shew their shoulders. Friends, be gone.
I have my self resolv'd upon a course,
Which has no need of you. Be gone,
My treasure's in the harbour. Take it—oh,
I follow'd That I blush to look upon;
My very hairs do mutiny; for the white
Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them
For fear and doating. Friends, be gone; you shall
Have letters from me to some friends, that will
Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad,
Nor make replies of lothness; take the hint,
Which my despair proclaims. Let them be left,
Which leave themselves. To the sea-side straight-way:
I will possess you of that ship and treasure.
Leave me, I pray, a little; pray you now—
Nay, do so; for, indeed, I've lost command.
Therefore, I pray you—I'll see you by and by. [Sits down. Enter Cleopatra, led by Charmian and Iras, to Antony.

Eros.
Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him.

Iras.
Do, most dear Queen.

Char.
Do? why, what else?

Cleo.
Let me sit down; oh Juno!

Ant.
No, no, no, no, no.

Eros.
See you here, Sir!

Ant.
Oh fie, fie, fie.

Char.
Madam—

Iras.
Madam, oh good Empress!

Eros.
Sir, Sir.

Ant.
Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept
His sword e'en like a dancer, while I strook
The lean and wrinkled Cassius, and 'twas I
That the mad Brutus ended; he alone

Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practice had
In the brave squares of war; yet now—no matter—

Cleo.
Ah, stand by.

Eros.
The Queen, my lord, the Queen—

Iras.
Go to him, Madam, speak to him,
He is unqualitied with very shame.

Cleo.
Well then, sustain me; oh!

Eros.
Most noble Sir, arise, the Queen approaches;
Her head's declin'd, and death will seize her, but
Your comfort makes the rescue.

Ant.
I have offended reputation;
A most unnoble swerving—

Eros.
Sir, the Queen.

Ant.
O whither hast thou led me, Ægypt? see,
How I convey my shame out of thine eyes;
By looking back on what I've left behind,
'Stroy'd in dishonour.

Cleo.
Oh, my lord, my lord;
Forgive my fearful sails; I little thought,
You would have follow'd.

Ant.
Ægypt, thou knew'st too well,
My heart was to thy rudder ty'd by th' string,
And thou should'st towe me after. O'er my spirit
The full supremacy thou knew'st; and that
Thy Beck might from the bidding of the Gods
Command me.

Cleo.
Oh, my pardon.

Ant.
Now I must
To the young man send humble treaties, dodge
And palter in the shift of lowness; who,
With half the bulk o'th' world, play'd as I pleas'd,
Making and marring fortunes. You did know,
How much you were my conqueror; and that
My sword, made weak by my affection, would
Obey it on all cause.

Cleo.
O, pardon, pardon.

Ant.
Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates
All that is won and lost: give me a kiss,
Even this repays me.—
We sent our Schoolmaster; is he come back?

Love, I am full of lead; some wine,
Within there, and our viands: Fortune knows,
We scorn her most, when most she offers blows. [Exeunt.

Previous section

Next section