ACT III. SCE NE' I.

A Camp in a Part of Syria.' '. Enter Ventidius, as after conquest;, the dead body of

Pacorus borne before him; Silius, Roman Soldiers, and Attendants.

Ventidius. JOW,

Pleas's Fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death Make me revenger. Bear the king's son's body Before our holt: thy Pacorus, Orodes, Pays this for Marcus Crassus.

Sil. Noble Ventidius, Whilst yet with Parı hian 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 their head.

Ven. Oh, Silius, Silius, Pve done enough. A lower place, note well, May make too great an act : for, learn this, Silius, Betier 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. Sollius, 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 loss, Thav gain which darkens him. I could do more to do Antonius good, But 'twould offend him ; and in his offence Should my performance perish.

Sil. Thou hast, Ventidius, that, without the which A soldier and his sword grant *,scarçe dinin&tion:

* Grant for afford. Warb.

Thou wilt write to Antony?

Ven. I'll humbly signify 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 oth' field.

Sil. 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. On, there; pass
along

[Excinh

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 : Cæsar is sad : and Lepidus,
Since Pompey's feast, as Menas fays, is troubled
With the green ficknels.

Agr. 'Tis a noble Lepidus.
Eno. A very fine one, oh how he loves Cæsar!
Agr. Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony!
Enu. Cælar? why he is the Jupiter of men.
Agr. What's Antony ? the god of Jupiter?
Eno. Speak you of Cæsar? how? the nonpareil!
Agr, Oh Antony, oh thou Arabian bird!
Eno. Would you praile Cæfar, fay;-Cæfar; go

no further. Agr. Indeed he plied them both with excellent

prailes. Eno. Bushe loves Cæsar belt, yet he loves Antony : Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, poets, Think, fpeak, calt, write, fing, number, ho! His love to Antony. But as for Cesar, Kneel cown, kueel down, and wonder woman and

cannot

Agr. Both he loves.

Eng. They are his shards, and he their beetle. So This is to horse. Adiel, noble Agrippa. [Trumpets. Agr. Good fortune, worthy soldier; and farewell.

Enter Cæíar, Antony, Lepidus, end O&avia. Ant. No further, Sir. Cæs. You take me from a great part of myself: Ule me well in't. Sistef, prove such a wife As my thoughts inake thee, and as my furthest bond * Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Anteny, Let not the piece of viriue which is let Betwixt us, as ihe cement of our love, To keep it builded, be the ram to batter The fortress of it ; for better might we Have lov?d without this mean, if on both parts This be not cherilli'd.

Ant. Mike me not offended In your distrust.

Cel. I've said.

Ant. You shall not find, Though you be therein cúrious, the least cause For what you seem to fear; 10 the gods keep you, And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends! We will here part.

Cæs. Farev ell, my dearest sister, fare thee well; The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits 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 lowers to bring it on. Be chearful.

Otc. Sir, look well to my husband's house; and
Cel. What, Ottavia?
Ocła. I'll tell you in your ear.

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

Eno. Will Cæsar weep?

* As I will venture the greatest pledge of security 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 horse; So is he being a man.

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

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

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

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

Cel. Adieu, be happy!

Lep. Let all the number of the stars give light To thy fair way! Cæs: Farewell, farewell!

[Killes Octavia, Ant. Farewell!

[Trumpets sound. Exeunt.

Changes to the Palace in Alexandria.
Eu ter Cleopatra, Charmian, Tras, 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. Mel. Most gracious Majesty, Vol. IX.

E

Cleo. Didit thou behold
Octavia ?

Mel. Ay, dread Queen.
Cleo. Where?

Mell. In Rome, Madam.
I look'd 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?
Mej. 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 gait? Remember,
If e'er thou look'st on Majesty.

Mel. 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 ?
Mel. Or I have no obfervance.

Chår. 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. Guess at her years, I pr’ythee.
Mell. Madam, she was a widow.
Cleo. Widow? Charmian, hark.
Mell. And I do think she's thirty.
Cleo. Bear'st thou her face in mind? Is't long or

round?
Mel. Round ev'n to faultiness.

Cleö. For the most part too,
They're foolish that are so. Her hair, what colour

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

Cleo. There's gold for thee,