1

ACT III. SCENE I.

"

A Camp in a Part of Syria.

Enter Ventidius, as after conqueft;, the dead body.of Pacorus borne before him; Silius, Roman Soldiers, and Attendants.

Ventidius.

NOW, darting Parthia, art thou ftruck; and now

Pleas'd Fortune does of Marcus Craffus' death

Make me revenger. Bear the king's fon's body
Before our hoft: thy Pacorus, Orodes,
Pays this for Marcus Craffus.

Sil. Noble Ventidius,

Whilft yet with Parthian blood thy fword is warm,
The fugitive Parthians follow: fpur through Media,
Mefopotamia, and the fhelters whither

The routed fly. So thy grand Captain Antony
Shall fet thee on triumphant chariots, and

Put garlands on their 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.
Cæfar and Antony have ever won

More in their officer, than perfon.

Soffius, One of my place in syria, his lieutenant,

For quick accumulation of renown,

Which he atchiev'd by th' minute, loft his favour.
Who does i' th' wars more than his captain can,
Becomes his captain's captain; and ambition,
The foldier's virtue, rather makes choice of lofs,
Than gain which darkens him.

I could do more to do Antonius, good,
But 'twould offend him; and in his offence
Should my performance perifh.

Sil. Thou haft, Ventidius, that, without the which A foldier and his fword grant fcarce diftin&tion * Grant for afford. Warb.

Thou wilt write to Antony?

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

Sil. Where is he now ?

Ven. He purpofeth to Athens. With what haste The weight we must convey with's will permit, We fhall appear before him. On, there;- pafs along. [Exeunt

Enter Agrippa at one door, Enobarbus at another. Agr. What, are the brothers parted?

Eno. They have dispatch'd with Pompey; he is gone.

The other three are fealing. Octavia weeps,
To part from Rome: Cæfar is fad: and Lepidus,
Since Pompey's feaft, as Menas fays, is troubled
With the green fickneis.

Agr. 'Tis a noble Lepidus.

Eno. A very fine one, oh how he loves Cæfar!
Agr. Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony!
Eno. Cæfar? why he is the Jupiter of men.
Agr. What's Antony? the god of Jupiter?
Eno. Speak you of Cæfar? how? the nonpareil!
Agr. Oh Autony, oh thou Arabian bird!
Eno. Would you praite Cæfar, fay,-Cæfar; go
no further.

Agr. Indeed he plied them both with excellent prailes.

Eno. But he loves Cæfar beft, yet he loves Antony: Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, fcribes, bards, poets,

cannot

Think, fpeak, cast, write, fing, number, ho!
His love to Antony. But as for Cæfar,
Kneel down, kueel down, and wonder

Agr. Both he loves.

Eno. They are his fhards, and he their beetle. So— This is to horfe. Adieu, noble Agrippa. [Trumpets. Agr. Good fortune, worthy foldier; and farewell.

Enter Calar, Antony, Lepidus, end Octavia.
Ant. No further, Sir.

Caf. You take me from a great part of myself: Ufe me well in't. Sifter, prove fuch a wife

As my thoughts make thee, and as my furtheft bond*
Shall pafs on thy approof. Moft noble Antony,
Let not the piece of virtue which is fet
Betwixt us, as the cement of our love,
To keep it builded, be the ram to batter
The fortrefs of it; for better might we

Have lov'd without this mean, if on both parts
This be not cherish'd.

Ant. Make me not offended

In your diftrust.

Caf. I've faid.

Ant. You fhall not find,

Though you be therein cúrious, the leaft caufe For what you feem to fear; fo the gods keep you, And make the hearts of Romans ferve your ends! We will here part.

Caf. Farewell, my dearest fifter, fare thee well; The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy fpirits all of comfort! Fare thee well. Oda. My noble brother!

Aut The April's in her eyes: it is love's spring, And these the fhowers to bring it on. Be chearful. Oda. Sir, look well to my husband's house; and— Caf. What, Octavia?

Oca. I'll tell you in your ear.

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

Eno. Will Cæfar weep?

As I will venture the greatest pledge of fecurity on the trial of thy conduct. Johnson.

Agr. He has a cloud in's face.

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

Agr. Why, Enobarbus?

When Antony found Julius Cæfar dead,
He cried almost to roaring; and he wept,
When at Philippi he found Brutus flain.

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

Caf. No, fweet Octavia,

You fhall hear from me ftill; the time fhall not Out-go my thinking on, you.

Ant. Come, Sir, come,

I'll wrestle with you in my ftrength of love.
Look, here I have you; thus I let you go,
And give you to the gods.

Caf. Adieu, be happy!

Lep. Let all the number of the ftars give light

To thy fair way!

Caf. Farewell, farewell!

Ant. Farewell!

[Kifles Octavia.

[Trumpets found. Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Changes to the Palace in Alexandria.

Eter 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 Meffenger 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..

thou near.

Come

Cleo. Didft thou behold

Octavia?

Melf. Ay, dread Queen.

Cleo. Where?

Meff. In Rome, Madam.

I look'd her in the face; and faw her led
Between her brother and Mark Antony.
Cleo. Is fhe as tall as me?
Meff. She is not, Madam.

Cleo. Didst hear her fpeak? Is fhe fhrill-tongu❜d, or low?

Meff. Madam, I heard her fpeak; fhe is low-voic'd. Cleo. That's not fo good. He cannot like her long. Char. Like her? Oh Ifis! 'tis impoffible.

Cleo. I think fo, Charmian. Dull of tongue and

dwarfish.

What Majesty is in her gait? Remember,
If e'er thou look'st on Majesty.

Melf. She creeps;

Her motion and her ftation are as one;

She fhews a body rather than a life,

A ftatue than a breather.

Cleo. Is this certain?

Meff. Or I have no obfervance.

Char. Three in Ægypt

Cannot 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. Guefs at her years, I pr'ythee.

Meff. Madam, fhe was a widow.
Cleo. Widow? Charmian, hark.

Melf. And I do think he's thirty.

Cleo. Bear'ft thou her face in mind? Is't long or

round?

Me. Round ev'n to faultiness.

Cleo. For the most part too,

They're foolish that are fo. Her hair, what colour? Mef. Brown, Madam; and her forehead

As low as fhe would wifh it.

Cleo. There's gold for thee.