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Are in thy vessel: Let me cut the cable;
And, when we are put off, fall to their throats:
All there is thine.

Pom.

Ah, this thou should'st have done, And not have spoke on't! In me, 'tis villainy; In thee, it had been good service. Thou must know, 'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour; Mine honour, it. Repent, that e'er thy tongue Hath so betray'd thine act: Being done unknown, I should have found it afterwards well done; But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink.

[Aside.

Men. For this, I'll never follow thy pall'd* fortunes more.Who seeks, and will not take, when once 'tis offer'd, Shall never find it more.

Pom.

This health to Lepidus. Ant. Bear him ashore.-I'll pledge it for him,

Pompey.

Eno. Here's to thee, Menas.
Men.

Enobarbus, welcome.

Pom. Fill, till the cup be hid.
Eno. There's a strong fellow, Menas.

[Pointing to the attendant who carries off Lepidus.

Men.

Why?

Eno.

He bears

The third part of the world, man; See'st not? Men. The third part then is drunk: 'Would it were all,

That it might go on wheels!

Eno. Drink thou; increase the reels.

Men. Come.

Pom. This is not yet an Alexandrian feast.

Ant. It ripens towards it.-Strike the vesselst, ho! Here is to Cæsar.

Cæs.

* Cloyed.

I could well forbear it.
It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain,
And it grows fouler.
Ant.

Be a child o'the time.

+ Kettle-drums.

Cæs. Possess it, I'll make answer: but I had rather fast

From all, four days, than drink so much in one.
Eno. Ha, my brave emperor! [To Antony.
Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals,
And celebrate our drink?

Pom. Let's ha't, good soldier. Ant. Come, let us all take hands; Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense In soft and delicate Lethe.

Eno.

All take hands.Make battery to our ears with the loud musick :The while, I'll place you: Then the boy shall sing; The holding+ every man shall bear, as loud As his strong sides can volley.

{Musick plays. Enobarbus places them hand in hand,

SONG.

Come, thou monarch of the vine,
Plumpy Bacchus, with pink eyne‡:
In thy vats our cares be drown'd;
With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd;
Cup-us, till the world go round;
Cup us, till the world go round!

Cas. What would you more?-Pompey, good night. Good brother,

Let me request you off: our graver business
Frowns at this levity.-Gentle lords, let's part;
You see, we have burnt our cheeks: strong Eno-
barbe

Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue Splits what it speaks; the wild disguise hath almost Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good

niglit.Good Antony, your hand.

* Understand.
* Red eyes.

Burden, chorus.

Pom.
I'll try you o'the shore.
Ant. And shall, sir: give's your hand.

Pom.

O, Antony,

You have my father's house,-But what? we are friends:

Come, down into the boat.

Eno.

Take heed you fall not.[Exeunt Pompey, Cæsar, Antony, and Attendants.

Menas, I'll not on shore.

Men.

No, to my cabin.These drums!-these trumpets, flutes! what!Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell

To these great fellows: Sound, and be hang'd, sound

out.

[A flourish of trumpets, with drums. Eno. Ho, says 'a !-There's my cap.

Men.

Ho!-noble captain! [Exeunt.

Come.

ACT III.

SCENE I. A plain in Syria.

Enter Ventidius, as after conquest, with Silius, and other Romans, Officers, and Soldiers; the dead body of Pacorus borne before him.

Ven. 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 army:-Thy Pacorus, Orodes*,
Pays this for Marcus Crassus.

Sil.

Noble Ventidius, Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm,

• Pacorus was the son of Orodes, king of Parthia.

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. O Silius, Silius, I have done enough: A lower place, note well, May make too great an act: For learn this, Silius; Better leave undone, than by our deed acquire Too high a fame, when him we serve's away. Cæsar, and Antony, have ever won More in their officer, than person: Sossius, One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant, For quick accumulation of renown, Which he achiev'd by the minute, lost his favour, Who does i' the wars 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.

Sil.

Thou hast, Ventidius, That without which a soldier, and his sword, Grants scarce distinction. 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 have jaded out o'the field.

Sil.

Where is he now? Ven. He purposeth to Athens: whither with what haste

The weight we must convey with us will permit, We shall appear before him.-On, there; pass along.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Rome. An ante-chamber in Cæsar's house.

Enter Agrippa, and Enobarbus, meeting.

Agr. What, are the brothers parted?
Eno. They have despatch'd 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-sickuess.

Agr.

'Tis a noble Lepidus. Eno. A very fine one: O, how he loves Cæsar! Agr. Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark An

tony!

Eno. Cæsar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men. Agr. What's Antony? The god of Jupiter. Eno. Spake you of Cæsar? How? the nonpareil ! Agr. O Antony! O thou Arabian bird! Eno. Would you praise Cæsar, say,-Cæsar;-go no further.

Agr. Indeed, he ply'd them both with excellent praises.

Eno. But he loves Cæsar best;-Yet he loves An

tony:

Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, 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.

• The phoenix.

Both he loves.

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