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.

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