Ventidius.
Now darting Parthia art thou struck, and now
Pleas'd fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death
Make me revenger. Bear the King's son's body
Before our host; thy Pacorus, Orodes,
Pays this for Marcus Crassus.

Rom.
Noble Ventidius,
Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm,
The fugitive Parthians follow. Spur through Media,
Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither

The routed fly. So thy grand captain Antony
Shall set thee on triumphant chariots, and
Put garlands on thy head.

Ven.
Oh Silius, Silius,
I've done enough. A lower place, note well,
May make too great an act: for learn this, Silius,
Better to leave undone, than by our deed
Acquire too high a fame, when he we serve's away.
Cæsar and Antony have ever won
More in their officer, than person. Sosius,
One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant,
For quick accumulation of renown,
Which he atchiev'd by th' minute, lost his favour.
Who does i'th' was more than his captain can,
Becomes his captain's captain: and ambition,
(The soldier's virtue) rather makes choice of loss,
Than gain which darkens him.
I could do more to do Antonius good,
But 'twould offend him; and in his offence
Should my performance perish.

Rom.
Thou hast, Ventidius, that, without the which
A soldier and his sword grants scarce distinction:
Thou wilt write to Antony,

Ven.
I'll humbly signifie what in his name,
That magical word of war, we have effected;
How with his banners, and his well-paid ranks,
That ne'er-yet beaten horse of Parthia
We've jaded out o'th' field.

Rom.
Where is he now?

Ven.
He purposeth to Athens; with what haste
The weight we must convey with's will permit,
We shall appear before him. Pass along. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. Rome. Enter Agrippa at one door, Enobarbus at another.

Agr.
What, are the brothers parted?

Eno.
They have dispatcht with Pompey, he is gone,
The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps
To part from Rome: Cæsar is sad, and Lepidus
Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled
With the green-sickness.

Agr.
'Tis a noble Lepidus.

Eno.
A very fine one; oh, how he loves Cæsar.

Agr.
Nay but how dearly he adores Mark Antony!

Eno.
Cæsar? why he's the Jupiter of men.

Agr.
What's Antony, the God of Jupiter?

Eno.
Speak you of Cæsar? oh! the non-pareil!

Agr.
Oh Antony, oh thou Arabian bird!

Eno.
Would you praise Cæsar, say, Cæsar, go no further.

Agr.
Indeed he plied them both with excellent praises.

Eno.
But he loves Cæsar best, yet he loves Antony:
Ho! hearts, tongues, figure, scribes, bards, poets, cannot
Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number; ho,
His love to Antony. But as for Cæsar,
Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder—

Agr.
Both he loves.

Eno.
They are his shards, and he their beetle, so—
This is to horse; adieu, noble Agrippa. [Trumpets.

Agr.
Good fortune, worthy soldier, and farewel. Enter Cæsar, Antony, Lepidus, and Octavia.

Ant.
No farther, Sir.

Cæs.
You take from me a great part of my self:
Use me well in't. Sister, prove such a wife
As my thoughts make thee, and my farthest bond
Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony,
Let not the piece of virtue which is set
Betwixt us, as the cement of our love,
To keep it builded, be the ram to batter
The fortune of it; for better might we
Have lov'd without this mean, if on both parts
This be not cherisht.

Ant.
Make me not offended
In your distrust.

Cæs.
I have said.

Ant.
You shall not find,
Though you be certain curious, the least cause
For what you seem to fear; so the Gods keep you,
And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends:
We will here part.

Cæs.
Farewel, my dearest sister, fare thee well;
The elements be kind to thee, and make
Thy spirits all of comfort; fare thee well.

Oct.
My noble brother.

Ant.
The April's in her eyes, it is love's spring,
And these the showers to bring it on; be chearful.

Oct.
Sir, look well to my husband's house; and—

Cæs.
What Octavia?

Oct.
I'll tell you in your ear.

Ant.
Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can
Her heart inform her tongue; the swan's down-feather,
That stands upon the swell at full of tide,
And neither way inclines.

Eno.
Will Cæsar weep?

Agr.
He has a cloud in's face.

Eno.
He were the worse for that were he a horse;
So is he being a man.

Agr.
Why, Enobarbus?
When Antony found Julius Cæsar dead,
He cryed almost to roaring: and he wept,
When at Philippi he found Brutus slain.

Eno.
That year indeed he was troubled with a rheum,
What willingly he did confound, he wail'd;
Believe't 'till I weep too.

Cæs.
No, sweet Octavia,
You shall hear from me still; the time shall not
Out-go my thinking on you.

Ant.
Come Sir, come,
I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love.
Look here I have you; thus I let you go,
And give you to the Gods.

Cæs.
Adieu, be happy!

Lep.
Let all the number of the stars give light
To thy fair way.

Cæs.
Farewel, farewel. [Kisses Octavia.

Ant.
Farewel! [Trumpets sound. Exeunt. SCENE III. Alexandria. Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.

Cleo.
Where is the fellow?

Alex.
Half afraid to come.

Cleo.
Go to, go to: come hither, Sir.

Enter the Messenger as before.

Alex.
Good majesty,
Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you,
But when you are well pleas'd.

Cleo.
That Herod's head
I'll have; but how? when Antony is gone,
Through whom I might command it:
Come thou near.

Mes.
Most gracious majesty.

Cleo.
Didst thou behold Octavia?

Mes.
Ay, dread Queen.

Cleo.
Where?

Mes.
Madam, in Rome, I lookt her in the face:
And saw her led between her brother and
Mark Antony.

Cleo.
Is she as tall as me?

Mes.
She is not, Madam.

Cleo.
Didst hear her speak? is she shrill-tongu'd or low?

Mes.
Madam, I heard her speak, she is low-voic'd.

Cleo.
That's not so good; he cannot like her long.

Char.
Like her? oh Isis! 'tis impossible.

Cleo.
I think so, Charmian; dull of tongue, and dwarfish.
What majesty is in her gate? remember
If e'er thou look'dst on majesty.

Mes.
She creeps;
Her motion and her station are as one:
She shews a body rather than a life,
A statue than a breather.

Cleo.
Is this certain?

Mes.
Or I have no observance.

Char.
Not three in Ægypt can make better note.

Cleo.
He's very knowing, I do perceive't,

There's nothing in her yet.
The fellow has good judgment.

Char.
Excellent.

Cleo.
Guess at her years, I pr'ythee.

Mes.
Madam, she was a widow.

Cleo.
Widow? Charmian, hark.

Mes.
And I do think she's thirty.

Cleo.
Bear'st thou her face in mind? is't long or round?

Mes.
Round even to faultiness.

Cleo.
For th' most part too,
They're foolish that are so. Her hair what colour?

Mes.
Brown, Madam; and her forehead
As low as she would wish it.

Cleo.
There's gold for thee.
Thou must not take my former sharpness ill,
I will employ thee back again; I find thee
Most fit for business. Go, make thee ready,
Our letters are prepar'd.

Char.
A proper man.

Cleo.
Indeed he is so; I repent me much
That so I harried him. Methinks by him,
This creature's no such thing.

Char.
O nothing, Madam.

Cleo.
The man hath seen some majesty, and should know.

Char.
Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend!
And serving you so long.

Cleo.
I've one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian:
But 'tis no matter, thou shalt bring him to me
Where I will write: all may be well enough.

Char.
I warrant you, Madam. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Athens. Enter Antony and Octavia.

Ant.
Nay, nay Octavia, not only that,
That were excusable, that and thousands more
Of semblable import, but he hath wag'd
New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it
To publick ear, spoke scantly of me;
When perforce he could not
But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly
He vented them; most narrow measure lent me;
When the best hint was given him, he o'er-look'd,
Or did it from his teeth.

Oct.
Oh, my good lord,
Believe not all; or if you must believe,
Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady,
If this division chance, ne'er stood between
Praying for both parts: the good Gods will mock me,
When I shall pray, oh bless my lord and husband,
Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud,
Oh bless my brother. Husband win, win brother,
Prays, and destroys the prayer; no midway
'Twixt these extreams at all.

Ant.
Gentle Octavia,
Let your best love draw to that point which seeks
Best to preserve it: if I lose mine honour,
I lose my self; better I were not yours,
Than yours so branchless. But as you requested,
Your self shall go between's; the mean time, lady,
I'll raise the preparation of a war

Shall stain your brother; make your soonest haste
So your desires are yours.

Oct.
Thanks to my lord,
The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak,
Your reconciler: wars 'twixt you 'twain would be
As if the world should cleave, and that slain men
Should solder up the rift.

Ant.
When it appears to you where this begins,
Turn your displeasure that way; for our faults
Can never be so equal, that your love
Can equally move with them. Provide your going,
Chuse your own company, and command what cost
Your heart has mind to. [Exeunt. Enter Enobarbus and Eros.

Eno.

How now, friend Eros?

Eros.

There's strange news come, Sir.

Eno.

What, man?

Eros.

Cæsar and Lepidus have made war upon Pompey.

Eno.

This is old; what is the success?

Ero.

Cæsar having made use of him in the wars 'gainst Pompey, presently denied him rivalty, would not let him partake of the glory of the action; and not resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly wrote to Pompey. Upon his own appeal seizes him, so the poor third is up, 'till death enlarge his confine.

Eno.

Then would thou hadst a pair of chaps no more, and throw between them all the food thou hast, they'll grind the other. Where's Antony?

Eros.
He's walking in the garden thus; and spurns
The rush that lies before him. Crys, fool Lepidus,
And threats the throat of that his officer
That murder'd Pompey.

Eno.
Our great navy's rigg'd.

Eros.
For Italy and Cæsar; more Domitius,
My lord desires you presently; my news
I might have told hereafter.

Eno.
'Twill be naught, but let it be; bring me to Antony.

Eros.
Come, Sir. [Exeunt. SCENE V. Rome. Enter Cæsar, Agrippa, and Mecænas.

Cæs.
Contemning Rome, he has done all this, and more,
In Alexandria; here's the matter of it:
I'th' market-place on a tribunal silver'd,
Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold
Were publickly enthron'd; at the feet sat
Cæsario, whom they call my father's son,
And all the unlawful issue that their lust
Since then hath made between them. Unto her
He gave the 'stablishment of Ægypt, made her
Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia,
Absolute Queen.

Mec.
This in the publick eye?

Cæs.
I'th' common shew-place where they exercise,
His sons were there proclaim'd the Kings of Kings.
Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia
He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assign'd
Syria, Cilicia, and Phœnicia: she
In the habiliments of the Goddess Isis
That day appear'd, and oft before gave audience,
As 'tis reported, so.

Mec.
Let Rome be thus inform'd.

Agr.
Who queasie with his insolence already
Will their good thoughts call from him.

Cæs.
The people know it, and have now receiv'd
His accusations.

Agr.
Whom does he accuse?

Cæs.
Cæsar, and that having in Sicily
Sextus Pompeius spoil'd, we had not rated him
His part o'th' isle. Then does he say, he lent me
Some shipping unrestor'd. Lastly he frets
That Lepidus of the triumvirate
Should be depos'd, and being, that we detain
All his revenue.

Agr.
Sir, this should be answer'd.

Cæs.
'Tis done already, and his messenger gone:
I told him Lepidus was grown too cruel,
That he his high authority abus'd,
And did deserve his change. For what I've conquer'd,
I grant him part; but then in his Armenia,
And other of his conquer'd kingdoms, I
Demand the like.

Mec.
He'll never yield to that.

Cæs.
Nor must he then be yielded to in this. Enter Octavia with attendants.

Oct.
Hail Cæsar, and my lord! hail, most dear Cæsar!

Cæs.
That ever I should call thee cast-away.

Oct.
You have not call'd me so, nor have you cause.

Cæs.
Why hast thou stoln upon me thus? you come not
Like Cæsar's sister; the wife of Antony
Should have an army for an usher, and
The neighs of horse to tell of her approach,
Long ere she did appear. The trees by th' way

Should have born men, and expectation fainted
Longing for what it had not. Nay, the dust
Should have ascended to the roof of heav'n,
Rais'd by your populous troops: but you are come
A market-maid to Rome, and have prevented
The ostentation of our love; which left unshewn,
Is often left unlov'd; we should have met you
By sea, and land, supplying every stage
With an augmented greeting.

Oct.
Good my lord,
To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did it
On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony,
Hearing that you prepar'd for war, acquainted
My grieving ear withal; whereon I begg'd
His pardon for return.

Cæs.
Which soon he granted,
Being an abstract 'tween his lust and him.

Oct.
Do not say so, my lord.

Cæs.
I have eyes upon him,
And his affairs come to me on the wind:
Where is he now?

Oct.
My lord, in Athens.

Cæs.
No, my most wronged sister; Cleopatra
Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his empire
Up to a whore, who now are levying
The Kings o'th' earth for war. He hath assembled,
Bochus the King of Libya, Archilaus
Of Cappadocia, Philadelphos King
Of Paphlagonia; the Thracian King Adallas,
King Malichus of Arabia, King of Pont,
Herod of Jewry, Mithridates King
Of Comagene, Polemen and Amintas,
The King of Mede, and Lycaonia,

With a more larger list of scepters.

Oct.
Ay me most wretched,
That have my heart parted betwixt two friends,
That do afflict each other.

Cæs.
Welcome hither;
Your letters did with-hold our breaking forth,
'Till we perceiv'd both how you were wrong led,
And we in negligent danger; cheer your heart.
Be you not troubled with the time, which drives
O'er your content these strong necessities,
But let determin'd things to destiny
Hold unbewail'd their way. Welcome to Rome:
Nothing more dear to me. You are abus'd
Beyond the mark of thought; and the high Gods
To do you justice, make his ministers
Of us, and those that love you. Be of comfort,
And ever welcome to us.

Agr.
Welcome lady.

Mec.
Welcome, dear madam.
Each heart in Rome does love and pity you;
Only th' adulterous Antony, most large
In his abominations, turns you off,
And gives his potent regiment to a trull
That noses it against us.

Oct.
Is it so, Sir?

Cæs.
It is most certain: sister, welcome; pray you
Be ever known to patience. My dear'st sister. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI. Actium. Enter Cleopatra, and Enobarbus.

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 † ^noteyare, 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 th' 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 th' 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.

Sold.
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 leaders lead,
And we are womens men.

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

Can.
Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justius,
Publicola, and Celius, 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 Torus.

Can.
Well I know the man. Enter a Messenger.

Mes.
The Emperor calls Canidius.

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

Cæs.
Torus?

Tor.
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. SCENE VII. Canidius marching with his land army one way over the stage, and Torus the lieutenant of Cæsar the other way: after their going in, is heard the noise of a sea-fight. Alarum. Enter Enobarbus.

Eno.
Naught, naught, all naught, I can behold no longer;

† ^noteTh' Antonias, th' Ægyptian admiral,
With all their sixty flie, and turn the rudder:
To fee'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 ‡ ^notecantle 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 * ^noteribauld 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 heighth, 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. SCENE VIII. 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 unqualited 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.
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. SCENE VIII. Cæsar's Camp. Enter Cæsar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Thidias, with others.

Cæs.
Let him appear that's come from Antony.
Know you him?

Dol.
Cæsar, 'tis his schoolmaster,
An argument that he is pluckt, when hither
He sends so poor a pinnion of his wing,
Which had superfluous Kings for messengers,
Not many moons gone by. Enter Ambassador from Antony.

Cæs.
Approach and speak.

Amb.
Such as I am, I come from Antony:
I was of late as petty to his ends,
As is the morn-dew on the myrtle leaf
To his grand sea.

Cæs.
Be't so, declare thine office.

Amb.
Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and
Requires to live in Ægypt; which not granted
He lessens his requests, and to thee sues
To let him breathe between the heav'ns and earth
A private man in Athens: this for him.
Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness;
Submits her to thy might, and of thee craves
The circle of the Ptolomies for her heirs,
Now hazarded to thy grace.

Cæs.
For Antony,
I have no ears to his request. The Queen
Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she
From Ægypt drive her all-disgraced friend,
Or take his life there. This, if she perform,
She shall not sue unheard. So to them both.

Amb.
Fortune pursue thee.

Cæs.
Bring him through the bands: [Exit Ambassador.
To try thy eloquence now 'tis time, dispatch,
From Antony win Cleopatra, promise, [To Thidias.
And in our name, when she requires, add more
From thine invention, offers. Women are not
In their best fortunes strong; but want will perjure
The ne'er-touch'd vestal. Try thy cunning, Thidias,
Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we
Will answer as a law.

Thid.
Cæsar, I go.

Cæs.
Observe how Antony becomes his flaw,
And what thou think'st his very action speaks
In every power that moves.

Thid.
Cæsar, I shall. [Exeunt. SCENE IX. Alexandria. Enter Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, and Iras.

Cleo.
What shall we do, Enobarbus?

Eno.
Think, and dye.

Cleo.
Is Antony, or we, in fault for this?

Eno.
Antony only, that would make his will
Lord of his reason. What although you fled
From that great face of war, whose several ranges

Frighted each other? why should he follow you?
The itch of his affection should not then
Have nickt his captainship at such a point,
When half to half the world oppos'd, he being
The meered question. 'Twas a shame no less
Than was his loss to course your flying flags,
And leave his navy gazing.

Cleo.
Pr'ythee peace. Enter Antony, with the Ambassador.

Ant.
Is that his answer?

Amb.
Ay, my lord.

Ant.
The Queen shall then have courtesie,
So she will yield us up.

Amb.
He says so.

Ant.
Let her know't.
To the boy Cæsar send this grizled head,
And he will fill thy wishes to the brim,
With principalities.

Cleo.
That head, my lord?

Ant.
To him again, tell him he wears the rose
Of youth upon him; from which, the world should note
Something particular; his coyn, ships, legions,
May be a coward's, whose ministers would prevail
Under the service of a child, as soon
As i'th' comand of Cæsar. I dare him therefore
To lay his gay ^{a note}caparisons apart,
And answer me declin'd, sword against sword,
Our selves alone; I'll write it, follow me. [Exit Antony.

Eno.
Yes, like enough: high-battel'd Cæsar will
Unstate his happiness, and be stag'd to th' shew
Against a sworder. I see mens judgments are
A parcel of their fortunes, and things outward

Do draw the inward quality after them
To suffer all alike. That he should dream,
Knowing all measures, the full Cæsar will
Answer his emptiness; Cæsar thou hast subdu'd
His judgment too. Enter a Servant.

Ser.
A messenger from Cæsar.

Cleo.
What, no more ceremony? see my women,
Against the blown rose may they stop their nose,
That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, Sir.

Eno.
Mine honesty and I begin to square;
The loyalty, well held to fools, does make
Our faith meer folly: yet he that can endure
To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord,
Do's conquer him that did his master conquer,
And earns a place i'th' story. Enter Thidias.

Cleo.
Cæsar's will.

Thid.
Hear it apart.

Cleo.
None but friends; say boldly.

Thid.
So haply are they friends to Antony.

Eno.
He needs as many, Sir, as Cæsar has;
Or needs not us. If Cæsar please, our master
Will leap to be his friend: for as you know,
Whose he is, we are, and that's Cæsar's.

Thid.
So.
Thus then thou most renown'd, Cæsar intreats
Not to consider in what case thou stand'st
Further than he is Cæsar.

Cleo.
Go on, right royal.

Thid.
He knows that you embrace not Antony

As you did love, but as you feared him.

Cleo.
Oh! [Aside.

Thid.
The scars upon your honour, therefore he
Do's pity, as constrained blemishes,
Not as deserv'd.

Cleo.
He is a God, and knows
What is most right. Mine honour was not yielded,
But conquer'd meerly.

Eno.
To be sure of that,
I will ask Antony. Sir, thou'rt so leaky
That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for
Thy dearest quit thee. [Exit Eno.

Thid.
Shall I say to Cæsar,
What you require of him? he partly begs
To be desir'd to give. It much would please him,
That of his fortunes you would make a staff
To lean upon. But it would warm his spirits,
To hear from me you had left Antony,
And put your self under his shrowd, the universal landlord.

Cleo.
What's your name?

Thid.
My name is Thidias.

Cleo.
Most kind messenger;
Say to great Cæsar this in disputation,
I kiss his conqu'ring hand: tell him, I'm prompt
To lay my crown at's feet, and there to kneel.
Tell him, that from his all-obeying breath
I hear the doom of Ægypt.

Thid.
'Tis your noblest course:
Wisdom and fortune combating together,
If that the former dare but what it can,
No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay
My duty on your hand.

Cleo.
Your Cæsar's father oft,

When he hath mus'd of taking kingdoms in,
Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place,
As it rain'd kisses. SCENE X. Enter Antony, and Enobarbus.

Ant.
Favours! by Jove that thunders. [Seeing Thidias kiss her hand.
What art thou fellow?

Thid.
One that but performs
The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest
To have command obey'd,

Eno.
You will be whipp'd.

Ant.
Approach there—ah you kite! now Gods and devils!
Authority melts from me of late. When I cry'd hoa!
Like boys unto a ^{b note}muss, Kings would start forth,
And cry, your will? have you no ears?
I'm Antony yet. Take hence this jack and whip him. Enter a Servant.

Eno.
'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp,
Than with an old one dying.

Ant.
Moon and stars!
Whip him: were twenty of the greatest Tributaries
That do acknowledge Cæsar, should I find them
So sawcy with the hand of she here, (what's her name
Since she was Cleopatra?)—whip him, fellows—
'Till like a boy you see him cringe his face,
And whine aloud for mercy. Take him hence.

Thid.
Mark Antony—

Ant.
Tug him away; being whipp'd
Bring him again, this jack of Cæsar's shall

Bear us an errand to him. [Exeunt with Thidias.
You were half blasted ere I knew you: ha!
Have I my pillow left unprest in Rome,
Forborn the getting of a lawful race,
And by a jem of women, to be abus'd
By one that looks on feeders?

Cleo.
Good my lord—

Ant.
You have been a boggler ever.
But when we in our viciousness grow hard,
Oh misery on't, the wise Gods seal our eyes
In our own filth, drop our clear judgments, make us
Adore our errors, laugh at's while we strut
To our confusion.

Cleo.
Oh, is't come to this?

Ant.
I found you as a morsel, cold upon
Dead Cæsar's trencher: nay, you were a fragment
Of Cneius Pompey's, besides what hotter hours
Unregistred in vulgar fame, you have
Luxuriously pickt out. For I am sure,
Though you can guess what temperance should be,
You know not what it is.

Cleo.
Wherefore is this?

Ant.
To let a fellow that will take rewards,
And say, God quit you, be familiar with
My play-fellow, your hand; this kingly seal,
And plighter of high hearts!—O that I were
Upon the hill of Basan, to out-roar
The horned herd, for I have savage cause.
And to proclaim it civilly, were like
A halter'd neck, which does the hangman thank
For being † ^noteyare about him. Is he whipp'd?

Enter a Servant with Thidias.

Ser.
Soundly, my lord.

Ant.
Cry'd he? and begg'd a pardon?

Ser.
He did ask favour.

Ant.
If that thy father live, let him repent
Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry
To follow Cæsar in his triumph, since
Thou hast been whipp'd, for following him. Henceforth
The white hand of a lady, feaver thee,
Shake to look on't. Go get thee back to Cæsar,
Tell him thy entertainment: look thou say,
He makes me angry with him. For he seems
Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry,
And at this time most easie 'tis to do't:
When my good stars, that were my former guides,
Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires
Into the abysm of hell. If he mislike
My speech, and what is done, tell him he has
Hiparchus my enfranched bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he shall like, to quit me. Urge it thou:
Hence with thy stripes, be gone. [Exit Thid.

Cleo.
Have you done yet?

Ant.
Alack, our terrene moon is now eclips'd,
And it portends alone the fall of Antony.

Cleo.
I must stay his time.

Ant.
To flatter Cæsar, would you mingle eyes
With one that ties his points?

Cleo.
Not know me yet?

Ant.
Cold-hearted toward me?

Cleo.
Ah dear, if I be so,

From my cold heart let heaven ingender hail,
And poison't in the source, and the first stone
Drop in my neck; as it determines, so
Dissolve my life; the next Cesario smite!
'Till by degrees the memory of my womb,
Together with my brave Ægyptians all,
By the discattering of this pelletted storm,
Lie graveless; 'till the flies and gnats of Nile
Have buried them for prey.

Ant.
I'm satisfied:
Cæsar sets down in Alexandria, where
I will oppose his fate. Our force by land
Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too
Have knit again, and float, threatning most sea-like.
Where hast thou been, my heart? dost thou hear, lady?
If from the field I shall return once more
To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood,
I and my sword will earn my chronicle,
There's hope in't yet.

Cleo.
That's my brave lord.

Ant.
I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breath'd,
And fight maliciously: for when mine hours
Were nice and lucky, men did ransome lives
Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth,
And send to darkness all that stop me. Come,
Let's have one other gawdy night: call to me
All my sad captains, fill our bowls; once more
Let's mock the midnight bell.

Cleo.
It is my birth-day,
I had thought t'have held it poor. But since my lord
Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.

Ant.
We will yet do well.

Cleo.
Call all his noble captains to my lord.

Ant.
Do so, we'll speak to them, and to-night I'll force
The wine peep through their scars. Come on my Queen,
There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight
I'll make death love me: for I will contend
Even with his pestilent scythe. [Exeunt.

Eno.
Now he'll out-stare the lightning; to be furious
Is to be frighted out of fear, and in that mood
The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still
A diminution in our captain's brain
Restores his heart; when valour preys on reason,
It eats the swords it fights with: I will seek
Some way to leave him. [Exit.

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