Ant.
Eros, mine armour, Eros.

Cleo.
Sleep a little.

Ant.
No, my chuck: Eros, come, mine armour,
Eros. Enter Eros.
Come, my good fellow, put thine iron on;
If fortune be not ours to day, it is
Because we brave her. Come.

Cleo.
Nay, I'll help too, Antony.
What's this for? ah, let be, let be; thou art
The armourer of my heart;—false, false; this, this;—
Sooth-la, I'll help: thus it must be.

Ant.
Well, well, we shall thrive now;
Seest thou, my good fellow? Go, put on thy defences.

Eno.
Briefly, Sir.

Cleo.
Is not this buckled well?

Ant.
Rarely, rarely:
He that unbuckles this, till we do please
To doff't for our repose, shall hear a storm.
Thou fumblest, Eros; and my Queen's a Squire
More tight at this than thou; dispatch. O Love!
That thou could'st see my wars to day, and knew'st
The royal occupation; thou should'st see
A workman in't.

Enter an armed Soldier.
Good morrow to thee, welcome;
Thou look'st like him, that knows a warlike Charge:
To business that we love we rise betime,
And go to't with delight.

Sold.
A thousand, Sir,
Early though't be, have on their rivetted trim,
And at the Port expect you. [Shout. Trumpets flourish. Enter Captains and Soldiers.

Cap.
The morn is fair; good morrow, General!

All.
Good morrow, General!

Ant.
'Tis well blown, Lads.
This morning, like the spirit of a youth
That means to be of note, begins betimes.
So, so; come, give me that,—this way—well said.
Fare thee well, Dame, what e'er becomes of me,
This is a Soldier's Kiss: rebukeable,
And worthy shameful check it were, to stand
On more mechanick compliment: I'll leave thee
Now, like a man of steel. You, that will fight,
Follow me close, I'll bring you to't: adieu. [Exeunt.

Char.
Please you to retire to your chamber?

Cleo.
Lead me:
He goes forth gallantly: That he and Cæsar might
Determine this great war in single fight!
Then, Antony,—but now,—well, on. [Exeunt.

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