Act III. Scene VIII.


A Plain near ACTIUM.
   
 
Enter CÆSAR, TAURUS, Officers, and Others.
   
  Cæs.  Taurus!   
  Taur.  My lord?      4
  Cæs.  Strike not by land; keep whole: provoke not battle,   
Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed   
The prescript of this scroll: our fortune lies   
Upon this jump.  [Exeunt.      8
 
Enter ANTONY and ENOBARBUS.
   
  Ant.  Set we our squadrons on yond side o’ the hill,   
In eye of Cæsar’s battle; from which place   
We may the number of the ships behold,     12
And so proceed accordingly.  [Exeunt.   
 
Enter 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 sea-fight.
   
 
Alarum. Re-enter ENOBARBUS.
   
  Eno.  Naught, naught, all naught! I can behold no longer.     16
The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral,   
With all their sixty, fly, and turn the rudder;   
To see ’t mine eyes are blasted.   
 
Enter SCARUS.
     20
  Scar.        Gods and goddesses,   
All the whole synod of them!   
  Eno.        What’s thy passion?   
  Scar.  The greater cantle of the world is lost     24
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,     28
Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt,   
Whom leprosy o’ertake! i’ the midst o’ the fight,   
When vantage like a pair of twins appear’d,   
Both as the same, or rather ours the elder,     32
The breese 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     36
Endure a further view.   
  Scar.        She once being loof’d,   
The noble ruin of her magic, Antony,   
Clapson his sea-wing, and like a doting mallard,     40
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 itself.     44
  Eno.        Alack, alack!   
 
Enter CANIDIUS.
   
  Can.  Our fortune on the sea is out of breath,   
And sinks most lamentably. Had our general     48
Been what he knew himself, it had gone well:   
O! he has given example for our flight    
Most grossly by his own.   
  Eno.        Ay, are you thereabouts?     52
Why, then, good night, indeed.   
  Can.  Towards Peloponnesus are they fled.   
  Scar.  ’Tis easy to ’t; and there I will attend   
What further comes.     56
  Can.        To Cæsar will I render   
My legions and my horse; six kings already   
Show me the way of yielding.   
  Eno.        I’ll yet follow     60
The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason   
Sits in the wind against me.  [Exeunt.   

Act III. Scene IX.


Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.
   
 
Enter ANTONY and Attendants.
   
  Ant.  Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon ’t;   
It is asham’d to bear me. Friends, come hither:      4
I am so lated in the world that I   
Have lost my way for ever. I have a ship   
Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly,   
And make your peace with Cæsar.      8
  Att.        Fly! not we.   
  Ant.  I have fled myself, and have instructed cowards   
To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone;   
I have myself resolv’d upon a course     12
Which has no need of you; be gone:   
My treasure’s in the harbour, take it. O!   
I follow’d that I blush to look upon:   
My very hairs do mutiny, for the white     16
Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them   
For fear and doting. Friends, be gone; you shall   
Have letters from me to some friends that will   
Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad,     20
Nor make replies of loathness; take the hint   
Which my despair proclaims; let that be left   
Which leaves itself; to the sea-side straightway;   
I will possess you of that ship and treasure.     24
Leave me, I pray, a little; pray you now:   
Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command,   
Therefore I pray you. I’ll see you by and by.  [Sits down.   
 
Enter EROS following CLEOPATRA, led by CHARMIAN and IRAS.
     28
  Eros.  Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him.   
  Iras.  Do, most dear queen.   
  Char.  Do! Why, what else?   
  Cleo.  Let me sit down. O Juno!     32
  Ant.  No, no, no, no, no.   
  Eros.  See you here, sir?   
  Ant.  O fie, fie, fie!   
  Char.  Madam!     36
  Iras.  Madam; O good empress!   
  Eros.  Sir, sir!   
  Ant.  Yes, my lord, yes. He, at Philippi kept   
His sword e’en like a dancer, while I struck     40
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.     44
  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.     48
  Cleo.  Well then, sustain me: O!   
  Eros.  Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches:   
Her head’s declin’d, and death will seize her, but   
Your comfort makes the rescue.     52
  Ant.  I have offended reputation,   
A most unnoble swerving.   
  Eros.        Sir, the queen.   
  Ant.  O! whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See,     56
How I convey my shame out of thine eyes   
By looking back what I have left behind   
’Stroy’d in dishonour.   
  Cleo.        O my lord, my lord!     60
Forgive my fearful sails: I little thought   
You would have follow’d.   
  Ant.        Egypt, thou knew’st too well   
My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings,     64
And thou shouldst tow me after; o’er my spirit   
Thy full supremacy thou knew’st, and that   
Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods   
Command me.     68
  Cleo.        O! my pardon.   
  Ant.        Now I must   
To the young man send humble treaties, dodge   
And palter in the shifts of lowness, who     72
With half the bulk o’ the 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     76
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;     80
Even this repays me. We sent our school-master;   
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.     84

Act III. Scene X.


Egypt. CÆSAR’S Camp.
   
 
Enter CÆSAR, DOLABELLA, THYREUS, and Others.
   
  cæs.  Let him appear that’s come from Antony.   
Know you him?      4
  Dol.        Cæsar, ’tis his schoolmaster:   
An argument that he is pluck’d, when hither   
He sends so poor a pinion of his wing,   
Which had superfluous kings for messengers      8
Not many moons gone by.   
 
Enter EUPHRONIUS.
   
  Cæs.        Approach, and speak.   
  Euph.  Such as I am, I come from Antony:     12
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.     16
  Euph.  Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and   
Requires to live in Egypt; which not granted,   
He lessens his requests, and to thee sues   
To let him breathe between the heavens and earth,     20
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 Ptolemies for her heirs,     24
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     28
From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend,   
Or take his life there; this if she perform,   
She shall not sue unheard. So to them both.   
  Euph.  Fortune pursue thee!     32
  Cæs.        Bring him through the bands.  [Exit EUPHRONIUS.   
[To THYREUS.] To try thy eloquence, now ’tis time; dispatch.   
From Antony win Cleopatra; promise,   
And in our name, what she requires; add more,     36
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, Thyreus;   
Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we     40
Will answer as a law.   
  Thyr.        Cæsar, I go.   
  cæs.  Observe how Antony becomes his flaw,   
And what thou think’st his very action speaks     44
In every power that moves.   
  Thyr.        Cæsar, I shall.  [Exeunt.

Act III. Scene XI.


Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.
   
 
Enter CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, and IRAS.
   
  Cleo.  What shall we do, Enobarbus?   
  Eno.        Think, and die.      4
  Cleo.  Is Antony or we, in fault for this?   
  Eno.  Antony only, that would make his will   
Lord of his reason. What though you fled   
From that great face of war, whose several ranges      8
Frighted each other, why should he follow?   
The itch of his affection should not then   
Have nick’d his captainship; at such a point,   
When half to half the world oppos’d, he being     12
The mered question. ’Twas a shame no less   
Than was his loss, to course your flying flags,   
And leave his navy gazing.   
  Cleo.        Prithee, peace.     16
 
Enter ANTONY, with EUPHRONIUS.
   
  Ant.  Is that his answer?   
  Euph.  Ay, my lord.   
  Ant.  The queen shall then have courtesy, so she     20
Will yield us up?   
  Euph.        He says so.   
  Ant.        Let her know ’t.   
To the boy Cæsar send this grizzled head,     24
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     28
Of youth upon him, from which the world should note   
Something particular; his coin, ships, legions,   
May be a coward’s, whose ministers would prevail   
Under the service of a child as soon     32
As i’ the command of Cæsar: I dare him therefore   
To lay his gay comparisons apart,   
And answer me declin’d, sword against sword,   
Ourselves alone. I’ll write it: follow me.  [Exeunt ANTONY and EUPHRONIUS.     36
  Eno.  [Aside.] Yes, like enough, high-battled Cæsar will   
Unstate his happiness, and be stag’d to the show   
Against a sworder! I see men’s judgments are   
A parcel of their fortunes, and things outward     40
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     44
His judgment too.   
 
Enter an Attendant.
   
  Att.        A messenger from Cæsar.   
  Cleo.  What! no more ceremony? See! my women;     48
Against the blown rose may they stop their nose,   
That kneel’d unto the buds. Admit him, sir.  [Exit Attendant.   
  Eno.  [Aside.] Mine honesty and I begin to square.   
The loyalty well held to fools does make     52
Our faith mere folly; yet he that can endure   
To follow with allegiance a fall’n lord,   
Does conquer him that did his master conquer,   
And earns a place i’ the story.     56
 
Enter THYREUS.
   
  Cleo.        Cæsar’s will?   
  Thyr.  Hear it apart.   
  Cleo.        None but friends; say boldly.     60
  Thyr.  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 us, you know     64
Whose he is we are, and that is Cæsar’s.   
  Thyr.        So.   
Thus then, thou most renown’d: Cæsar entreats,   
Not to consider in what case thou stand’st,     68
Further than he is Cæsar.   
  Cleo.        Go on; right royal.   
  Thyr.  He knows that you embrace not Antony   
As you did love, but as you fear’d him.     72
  Cleo.        O!   
  Thyr.  The scars upon your honour therefore he   
Does pity, as constrained blemishes,   
Not as deserv’d.     76
  Cleo.        He is a god, and knows   
What is most right. Mine honour was not yielded,   
But conquer’d merely.   
  Eno.        [Aside.] To be sure of that,     80
I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou’rt so leaky,   
That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for   
Thy dearest quit thee.  [Exit.   
  Thyr.        Shall I say to Cæsar.     84
What you require of him? for he partly begs   
To be desir’d to give. It much would please him,   
That of his fortunes you should make a staff   
To lean upon; but it would warm his spirits     88
To hear from me you had left Antony,   
And put yourself under his shroud,   
The universal landlord.   
  Cleo.        What’s your name?     92
  Thyr.  My name is Thyreus.   
  Cleo.        Most kind messenger,   
Say to great Cæsar this: in deputation   
I kiss his conqu’ring hand; tell him, I am prompt     96
To lay my crown at ’s feet, and there to kneel;   
Tell him, from his all-obeying breath I hear   
The doom of Egypt.   
  Thyr.        ’Tis your noblest course.    100
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.    104
  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.    108
 
Re-enter ANTONY and ENOBARBUS.
   
  Ant.        Favours, by Jove that thunders!   
What art thou, fellow?   
  Thyr.        One that but performs    112
The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest   
To have command obey’d.   
  Eno.        [Aside.] You will be whipp’d.   
  Ant.  Approach there! Ah, you kite! Now, gods and devils!    116
Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried ‘Ho!’   
Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth,   
And cry, ‘Your will?’ Have you no ears? I am   
Antony yet.    120
 
Enter Attendants.
   
Take hence this Jack and whip him.   
  Eno.  [Aside.] ’Tis better playing with a lion’s whelp   
Than with an old one dying.    124
  Ant.        Moon and stars!   
Whip him. Were’t twenty of the greatest tributaries   
That do acknowledge Cæsar, should I find them   
So saucy with the hand of—she here, what’s her name,    128
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.   
  Thyr.  Mark Antony,—    132
  Ant.        Tug him away; being whipp’d,   
Bring him again; this Jack of Cæsar’s shall   
Bear us an errand to him.  [Exeunt Attendants with THYREUS.   
You were half blasted ere I knew you: ha!    136
Have I my pillow left unpress’d in Rome,   
Forborne the getting of a lawful race,   
And by a gem of women, to be abus’d   
By one that looks on feeders?    140
  Cleo.        Good my lord,—   
  Ant.  You have been a boggler ever:   
But when we in our viciousness grow hard,—   
O misery on’t!—the wise gods seel our eyes;    144
In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us   
Adore our errors; laugh at’s while we strut   
To our confusion.   
  Cleo.        O! is’t come to this?    148
  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,   
Unregister’d in vulgar fame, you have    152
Luxuriously pick’d out; for, I am sure,   
Though you can guess what temperance should be,   
You know not what it is.   
  Cleo.        Wherefore is this?    156
  Ant.  To let a fellow that will take rewards   
And say ‘God quit you!’ be familiar with   
My playfellow, your hand; this kingly seal   
And plighter of high hearts. O! that I were    160
Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar   
The horned herd; for I have savage cause;   
And to proclaim it civilly were like   
A halter’d neck, which does the hangman thank    164
For being yare about him.   
 
Re-enter Attendants, with THYREUS.
   
Is he whipp’d?   
  First Att.  Soundly, my lord.    168
  Ant.        Cried he? and begg’d a’ pardon?   
  First Att.  He did ask favour.   
  Ant.  If that thy father live, let him repent   
Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry    172
To follow Cæsar in his triumph, since   
Thou hast been whipp’d for following him: henceforth,   
The white hand of a lady fever thee,   
Shake thou to look on’t. Get thee back to Cæsar,    176
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;    180
And at this time most easy ’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    184
My speech and what is done, tell him he has   
Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom   
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,   
As he shall like, to quit me: urge it thou:    188
Hence with thy stripes; be gone!  [Exit THYREUS.   
  Cleo.  Have you done yet?   
  Ant.        Alack! our terrene moon   
Is now eclips’d; and it portends alone    192
The fall of Antony.   
  Cleo.        I must stay his time.   
  Ant.  To flatter Cæsar, would you mingle eyes   
With one that ties his points?    196
  Cleo.        Not know me yet?   
  Ant.  Cold-hearted toward me?   
  Cleo.        Ah! dear, if I be so,   
From my cold heart let heaven engender hail,    200
And poison it in the source; and the first stone   
Drop in my neck: as it determines; so   
Dissolve my life. The next Cæsarion smite,   
Till by degrees the memory of my womb,    204
Together with my brave Egyptians all,   
By the discandying of this pelleted storm,   
Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile   
Have buried them for prey!    208
  Ant.        I am satisfied.   
Cæsar sits down in Alexandria, where   
I will oppose his fate. Our force by land   
Hath nobly held; our sever’d navy too    212
Have knit again, and fleet, threat’ning 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;    216
I and my sword will earn our chronicle:   
There’s hope in’t yet.   
  Cleo.        That’s my brave lord!   
  Ant.  I will betreble-sinew’d, hearted, breath’d,    220
And fight maliciously; for when mine hours   
Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives   
Of me for jests; but now I’ll set my teeth,   
And send to darkness all that stop me. Come,    224
Let’s have one other gaudy 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:    228
I had thought to 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.    232
  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    236
Even with his pestilent scythe.  [Exeunt all but ENOBARBUS.   
  Eno.  Now he’ll outstare 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,    240
A diminution in our captain’s brain   
Restores his heart. When valour preys on reason   
It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek   
Some way to leave him.  [Exit.    244

Act IV. Scene I.


Before Alexandria. CÆSAR’S Camp.
   
 
Enter CÆSAR, reading a letter; AGRIPPA, MECÆNAS, and Others.
   
  cæs.  He calls me boy, and chides as he had power   
To beat me out of Egypt; my messenger      4
He hath whipp’d with rods; dares me to personal combat,   
Cæsar to Antony. Let the old ruffian know   
I have many other ways to die; meantime   
Laugh at his challenge.      8
  Mec.        Cæsar must think,   
When one so great begins to rage, he’s hunted   
Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now   
Make boot of his distraction: never anger     12
Made good guard for itself.   
  Cæs.        Let our best heads   
Know that to-morrow the last of many battles   
We mean to fight. Within our files there are,     16
Of those that serv’d Mark Antony but late,   
Enough to fetch him in. See it done;   
And feast the army; we have store to do ’t,   
And they have earn’d the waste. Poor Antony!  [Exeunt.     20

Act IV. Scene II.


Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.
   
 
Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and Others.
   
  Ant.  He will not fight with me, Domitius.   
  Eno.        No.      4
  Ant.  Why should he not?   
  Eno.  He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,   
He is twenty men to one.   
  Ant.        To-morrow, soldier,      8
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 thou fight well?   
  Eno.  I’ll strike, and cry, ‘Take all.’     12
  Ant.        Well said; come on.   
Call forth my household servants; let’s tonight   
Be bounteous at our meal.   
 
Enter three or four Servitors.
     16
Give me thy hand,   
Thou hast been rightly honest; so hast thou;   
Thou; and thou, and thou: you have serv’d me well,   
And kings have been your fellows.     20
  Cleo.        What means this?   
  Eno.  [Aside to CLEOPATRA.] ’Tis one of those odd tricks which sorrow shoots   
Out of the mind.   
  Ant.        And thou art honest too.     24
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.     28
  Servants.        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,     32
And suffer’d my command.   
  Cleo.  [Aside to ENOBARBUS.] What does he mean?   
  Eno.  [Aside to CLEOPATRA.] To make his followers weep.   
  Ant.        Tend me to-night;     36
May be it is the period of your duty:   
Haply, you shall not see me more; or if,   
A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow   
You’ll serve another master. I look on you     40
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,     44
And the gods yield you for’t!   
  Eno.        What mean you, sir,   
To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep;   
And I, an ass, am onion-ey’d: for shame,     48
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,     52
You take me in too dolorous a sense,   
For I spake to you 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     56
Where rather I’ll expect victorious life   
Than death and honour. Let’s to supper, come,   
And drown consideration.  [Exeunt.

Act IV. Scene III.


The Same. Before the Palace.
   
 
Enter two Soldiers to their guard.
   
  First Sold.  Brother, good night; to-morrow is the day.   
  Sec. Sold.  It will determine one way; fare you well.      4
Heard you of nothing strange about the streets?   
  First Sold.  Nothing. What news?   
  Sec. Sold.  Belike, ’tis but a rumour. Good night to you.   
  First Sold.  Well, sir, good night.      8
 
Enter two other Soldiers.
   
  Sec. Sold.  Soldiers, have careful watch.   
  Third Sold.  And you. Good night, good night.  [The first two place themselves at their posts.   
  Fourth Sold.  Here we:  [They take their posts.     12
And if to-morrow   
Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope   
Our landmen will stand up.   
  Third Sold.        ’Tis a brave army,     16
And full of purpose.  [Music of hautboys under the stage.   
  Fourth Sold.  Peace! what noise?   
  First Sold.        List, list!   
  Sec. Sold.  Hark!     20
  First Sold.        Music i’ the air.   
  Third Sold.        Under the earth.   
  Fourth Sold.  It signs well, does it not?   
  Third Sold.        No.     24
  First Sold.        Peace, I say!   
What should this mean?   
  Sec. Sold.  ’Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony lov’d,   
Now leaves him.     28
  First Sold.  Walk; let’s see if other watchmen   
Do hear what we do.  [They advance to another post.   
  Sec. Sold.        How now, masters!   
  Soldiers.        How now!—     32
How now!—do you hear this?   
  First Sold.        Ay; is ’t not strange?   
  Third Sold.  Do you hear, masters? do you hear?   
  First Sold.  Follow the noise so far as we have quarter;     36
Let’s see how ’t will give off.   
  Soldiers.  [Speaking together.] Content.—’Tis strange.  [Exeunt.   

Act IV. Scene IV.


The Same. A Room in the Palace.
   
 
Enter ANTONY and CLEOPATRA; CHARMIAN, and Others, attending.
   
  Ant.  Eros! mine armour, Eros!   
  Cleo.        Sleep a little.      4
  Ant.  No, my chuck. Eros, come; mine armour, Eros!   
 
Enter EROS, with armour.
   
Come, good fellow, put mine iron on:   
If Fortune be not ours to-day, it is      8
Because we brave her. Come.   
  Cleo.        Nay, I’ll help too.   
What’s this for?   
  Ant.        Ah! let be, let be; thou art     12
The armourer of my heart: false, false; this, this.   
  Cleo.  Sooth, la! I’ll help: thus it must be.   
  Ant.        Well, well;   
We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good fellow?     16
Go put on thy defences.   
  Eros.        Briefly, sir.   
  Cleo.  Is not this buckled well?   
  Ant.        Rarely, rarely:     20
He that unbuckles this, till we do please   
To daff ’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!     24
That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew’st   
The royal occupation, thou shouldst see   
A workman in ’t.   
 
Enter an armed Soldier.
     28
Good morrow to thee; welcome;   
Thou look’st like him that knows a war-like charge:   
To business that we love we rise betime,   
And go to ’t with delight.     32
  Sold.        A thousand, sir,   
Early though ’t be, have on their riveted trim,   
And at the port expect you.  [Shout. Trumpets flourish.   
 
Enter Captains and Soldiers.
     36
  Capt.  The morn is fair. Good morrow, general.   
  All.  Good morrow, general.   
  Ant.        ’Tis well blown, lads.   
This morning, like the spirit of a youth     40
That means to be of note, begins betimes.   
So, so; come, give me that: this way; well said.   
Fare thee well, dame, whate’er becomes of me;   
This is a soldier’s kiss. [Kisses her.] Rebukeable     44
And worthy shameful check it were, to stand   
On more mechanic 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 ANTONY, EROS, Captains, and Soldiers.     48
  Char.  Please you, retire to your chamber.   
  Cleo.        Lead me.   
He goes forth gallantly. That he and Cæsar might   
Determine this great war in single fight!     52
Then, Antony,—but now.—Well, on.  [Exeunt.

Act IV. Scene V.


Alexandria. ANTONY’S Camp.
   
 
Trumpets sound. Enter ANTONY and EROS; a Soldier meeting them.
   
  Sold.  The gods make this a happy day to Antony!   
  Ant.  Would thou and those thy scars had once prevail’d      4
To make me fight at land!   
  Sold.        Hadst thou done so,   
The kings that have revolted, and the soldier   
That has this morning left thee, would have still      8
Follow’d thy heels.   
  Ant.        Who’s gone this morning?   
  Sold.        Who!   
One ever near thee: call for Enobarbus,     12
He shall not hear thee; or from Cæsar’s camp   
Say, ‘I am none of thine.’   
  Ant.        What sayst thou?   
  Sold.        Sir,     16
He is with Cæsar.   
  Eros.        Sir, his chests and treasure   
He has not with him.   
  Ant.        Is he gone?     20
  Sold.        Most certain.   
  Ant.  Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it;   
Detain no jot, I charge thee. Write to him—   
I will subscribe—gentle adieus and greetings;     24
Say that I wish he never find more cause   
To change a master. O! my fortunes have   
Corrupted honest men. Dispatch. Enobarbus!  [Exeunt.

Act IV. Scene VI.


Before Alexandria. CÆSAR’S Camp.
   
 
Flourish. Enter CÆSAR, with AGRIPPA, ENOBARBUS, and Others.
   
  Cæs.  Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight:   
Our will is Antony be took alive;      4
Make it so known.   
  Agr.  Cæsar, I shall.  [Exit.   
  Cæs.  The time of universal peace is near:   
Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook’d world      8
Shall bear the olive freely.   
 
Enter a Messenger.
   
  Mess.        Antony   
Is come into the field.     12
  Cœs/        Go charge Agrippa   
Plant those that have revolted in the van,   
That Antony may seem to spend his fury   
Upon himself.  [Exeunt CÆSAR and his Train.     16
  Eno.  Alexas did revolt, and went to Jewry on   
Affairs of Antony; there did persuade   
Great Herod to incline himself to Cæsar,   
And leave his master Antony: for this pains     20
Cæsar hath hang’d him. Canidius and the rest   
That fell away have entertainment, but   
No honourable trust. I have done ill,   
Of which I do accuse myself so sorely     24
That I will joy no more.   
 
Enter a Soldier of CÆSAR’S.
   
  Sold.        Enobarbus, Antony   
Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with     28
His bounty overplus: the messenger   
Came on my guard; and at thy tent is now   
Unloading of his mules.   
  Eno.        I give it you.     32
  Sold.  Mock not, Enobarbus.   
I tell you true: best you saf’d the bringer   
Out of the host; I must attend mine office   
Or would have done ’t myself. Your emperor     36
Continues still a Jove.  [Exit.   
  Eno.  I am alone the villain of the earth,   
And feel I am so most. O Antony!   
Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid     40
My better service, when my turpitude   
Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart:   
If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean   
Shall outstrike thought; but thought will do ’t, I feel.     44
I fight against thee! No: I will go seek   
Some ditch, wherein to die; the foul’st best fits   
My latter part of life.  [Exit.