Ant.
He will not fight with me, Domitius. ^note

Eno.
No. ^note

Ant.
Why should be not?

Eno.
He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,
He is ^note 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 ^note thou fight well? ^note

Eno.
I'll strike, and cry ‘Take all.’

Ant.
Well said; come on.
Call forth my household servants: let's ^note to-night
Be bounteous at our meal. Enter ^note three or four Servitors.
Give me thy hand,
Thou hast been rightly honest;—so hast thou;—
Thou ^note,—and thou,—and thou: you have ^note served me well,
And kings have been your fellows.

Cleo. [Aside to Eno.]
What means this? ^note

Eno. [Aside to Cleo.]
'Tis one of those odd tricks ^note which sorrow shoots

Out of the mind. ^note

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 ^note.

Serv. ^note
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 ^note
And suffer'd ^note my command.

Cleo. [Aside to Eno.]
What does he mean?

Eno. [Aside to Cleo.]
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,
A ^note mangled shadow: perchance ^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 ^note you for't!

Eno.
What mean you, sir,
To give them this discomfort? Look, they ^note weep,
And I, an ass, am onion-eyed: for shame,
Transform us not to women.

Ant.
Ho, ho, ho!
Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus!
Grace grow where those drops fall! My hearty friends,
You take me in too ^note dolorous a sense;
For I spake to you ^note for your comfort, did desire you

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 honour. Let's to supper, come,
And drown consideration. [Exeunt. ^note

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