Antickt us all. What needs more words? good Night,
Good Antony, your Hand.

Pom. I'll try you on the Shoar.

Ant. And shall, Sir, give's your Hand.

Pom. Oh, Antony, you have my Father's House. But what, we are Friends? Come down into the Boat.

Eno. Take heed you fall not,

Men. I'll not on Shoar,

No, to my Cabin-these Drums!

These Trumpets, Flutes! what!

Let Neptune hear, we bid aloud farewel

To these great Fellows. Sound and be hang'd, found out.

[Sound a Flourish with Drums.

Ene. Hoo says a! there's my Cap.

Men. Hoa, noble Captain, come,

[Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENΝΕ Ι.

SCENE A Camp.

Enter Ventidius in Triumph, the dead Body of Pacorus born before him, Roman Soldiers and Attendants.

OW darting Parthia art thou struck, and now

Pleas'd Fortune does of Marcus Craffus death

Make me revenger. Bear the King's Son's Body

Before our Army, thy Pacorus, Orades,

Pays this for Marcus Craffus.

Rom. Noble Ventidius,

Whilst yet with Parthian Blood thy Sword is warm,

The Fugitive Parthians follow. Spurn through Media,

Mesapotamia, 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. Oh Silius, Silius,

I have 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 him we serve's away.

Cefar and Antony have ever won

More

More in their Officer, than Person. Sofius,
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 Soldier's Virtue, rather makes choise of loss
Than gain, which darkens him.
I could do more to do Anthonius good,
But 'twould offend him; and in his offence,
Should my performance perish.

Rom. Thou hast, Ventidius, that, without the which A Soldier and his Sword grants scarce distinction: Thou wilt write to Antony.

Ven. I'll humbly signifie 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'th' Field.

Rom. Where is he now?

Ven. He purposeth to Athens; whither with what haste The weight we must convey with's, will permit:

We shall appear before him. On there, pass along. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. Rome.

Enter Agrippa at one Door, Enobarbus at another.

Agr. What, are the Brothers parted?
Eno. They have dispatcht with Pompey, he is gone,
The other three are Sealing. Octavia weeps
To part from Rome: Cafar is sad, and Lepidus
Since Pompey's Feast, as Menas says, is troubled
With the Green-fickness.

Agr. 'Tis a noble Lepidus.

{ Eno. A very fine one; oh, how he loves Cafar.
Agr. Nay but how dearly he adores Mark Antony.
Eno. Cafar? why he's the Jupiter of Men.
Agr. What's Antony, the god of Jupiter?
Eno. Speak you of Cafar? Oh! the non-pareil!

Agr. Oh Antony, oh thou Arabian Bird!

Eno.

Eno. Would you praise Cafar, say Cafar, go no further. Agr. Indeed he plied them both with excellent praises. Eno. But he loves Cafar best, yet he loves Antony : Ho! Hearts, Tongues, Figure, Scribes, Bards, Poets, cannot Think, speak, cast, write, fing, number; ho, His love to Antony. But as for Cafar, Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder

Agr. Both he loves.

Eno. They are his Shards, and he their Beetle, fo--This is to Horse; adieu, noble Agrippa.

[Trumpets.

Agr. Good Fortune worthy Soldier, and farewel.
Enter Cæfar, Antony, Lepidus, and Octavia.
Ant. No farther, Sir.

Cas. You take from me a great part of my self:
Use me well in't. Sister, prove fuch a Wife
As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest Bond
Shall pass on thy approof. Most 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 Fortune of it; for better might we
Have lov'd without this mean, if on both parts
This be not cherisht.

Ant. Make me not offended
In your distruft.

Caf. I have faid.

Ant. You shall not find,

Though you be therein curious, the least cause
For what you seem to fear, so the Gods keep you,
And make the Hearts of Romans serve your ends:
We will here part.

Caf. Farewel, my dearest Sifter, fare thee well,
The Elements be kind to thee, and make
Thy Spirits all of comfort; fare thee well.

Ost. My noble Brother.

Ant. The April's in her Eyes, it is loves spring, And these the showers to bring it on; be chearful.

Oft. Sir, look well to my Husband's House; and--

Cef. What Octavia.

Oft. I'll tell you in your Ear.

Ant.

Ant. Her Tongue will not obey her Heart, nor can Her Heart inform her Tongue, the Swan's Doun-feather,

That stands upon the Swell at full of tide,

And neither way inclines.

Eno. Will Cafar weep?

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 Cafar dead,

He cryed almost to roaring: And he wept,

When at Philippi he found Brutus flain.

Eno. That Year indeed, he was troubled with a Rheum,

What willingly he did confound, he wail'd;

Believe't 'till I weep too.

Caf. No, sweet Octavia,

You shall hear from me still; the time shall not

Out-go my thinking on you.

Ant. Come Sir, come,

I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love.

Look here I have you; thus I let you go,

And give you to the Gods.

Cas. Adieu, be happy.

Lep. Let all the number of the Stars give Light

To thy fair way.

Cas. Farewel, Farewel.

Ant. Farewel.

[Kifsses Octavia.

[Trumpets Sound. Exeunt.

SCENE III. Alexandria.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.

Cleo. Where is the Fellow?

Alex. Half afeard 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.

Mes

Mes. Moft gracious Majesty.

Cleo. Didst thou behold Octavia?

Mes. Ay, dread Queen.

Cleo. Where?

Mes. Madam, in Rome, I lookt her in the face :

And faw her led between her Brother, and

Mark Antony.

Cleo. Is the as tall as me?

Mes. She is not, Madam.

Cleo. Didst hear her speak ? is she shrill tongu'd or low?

Mes. 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 Ifis! 'tis impossible.

Cleo. I think fo, Charmian; dull of Tongue, and Dwarfish.

What Majesty is in her Gate? remember

If e'er thou look'st on Majefty.

Mes. 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?

Mef. Or I have no observance.

Char. Three in Ægypt cannot make better note.

Cleo. He's very knowing, I do perceiv't,

There's nothing in her yet.

The Fellow has good Judgment.

Char. Excellent.

Cleo. Guess at her Years, I prethee.
Mes. Madam, she was a Widow.

Cleo. Widow? Charmian, hark.

Mef. And I do think she's thirty.

Cleo. Bear'st thou her Face in Mind? is't long or round?

Mes. Round even to faultiness.

Cleo. For the most part too, they are foolish that are fo.

Her Hair what colour?

Mes. Brown, Madam; and her Forehead.

As low as the would with it.

Cleo. There's Gold for thee.

Thou must not take my former Sharpness ill,

I will employ thee back again; I find thee

Moft