Wash the congealment from your Wounds, and kiss
The honour'd gathes whole. Give me thy Hand. [To Scarus.
To this great Faiery, I'll commend thy acts,
Make her thanks bless thee. O thou day o'th' World,
Chain mine arm'd Neck, leap thou, Attire and all
Through proof of Harness to my Heart, and there
Ride on the pants triumphing.
Oh infinite Virtue, com'st thou smiling from
The World's great Snare uncaught.
Ant. My Nightingale,
We have beat them to their Beds. What, Girl, though gray
Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha'we
A brain that nourishes our Nerves, and can
Get gole for gole of Youth. Behold this Man,
Commend unto his Lips thy favouring Hand,
Kifs it my Warrior: He hath fought to day,
As if a God in hate of Mankind, had
Destroyed in such a shape.
Cleo. I'll give thee, Friend,
An Armour all of Gold; it was a King's.
Ant. He has deserv'd it, were it Carbunkled
Like holy Phœbus Car. Give me thy Hand,
Through Alexandria make a jolly march,
Bear our hackt Targets, like the Men that owe them.
Had our great Palace the capacity
To Camp this hoast, we all would fup together,
And drink Carowses to the next Day's Fate
Which promifes Royal Peri!. Trumpeters
With brazen din blast you the Cities Ear.
Make mingle with our ratling Tabourines,
That Heav'n and Earth may strike their founds together,
Applauding our Approach.
SCENE V. Cæfar's Camp.
Enter a Century, and his Company, Enobarbus follows.
Cent. If we be not reliev'd within this hour,
We must return to th' Court of Guard; the Night
Is thiny, and they say, we shall embattel
By th' second Hour i'th' Morn.
1 Watch. This last day was a shrewd one to's.
Eno. Oh bear me witness Night. 2 Watch. What Man is this?
1 Watch. Stand close, and lift him.
Eno. Be witness to me, O thou blessed Moon,
When Men revolted shall upon Record
Bear hateful memory; poor Enobarbus did
Before thy Face repent.
Cent. Enobarbus?
3 Watch. Peace; hark further.
Eno. Oh Sovereign Mistress of true Melancholy,
The poisonous damp of Night dispunge upon me,
That Life, a very Rebel to my Will,
May hang no longer on me, Throw my Heart
Against the flint and hardness of my Fault,
Which being dried with Grief, will break to Powder,
And finish all foul Thoughts. Oh Antony,
Nobler than my revolt is infamous,
Forgive me in thine own particular,
But let the World rank me in Register
A Master-leaver, and a Fugitive:
Oh Antony! Oh Antony!
I Watch. Let's speak to him.
Cent. Let's hear him, for the things he speaks
May concern Cafar.
2 Watch. Let's do fo, but he fleeps.
Cent. Swoons rather, for fo bad a Prayer as his
Was never yet for fleep.
1 Watch. Go we to him.
2 Watch. Awake, Sir, awake, speak to us. 1 Watch. Hear you, Sir?
Cent. The Hand of death hath caught him.
Hark how the Drums demurely wake the Sleepers:
Let us bear him to th'Court of Guard; he is of note.
Our Hour is fully out.
2 Watch. Come on then, he may recover yet. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI. Between the two Camps.
Enter Antony, and Scarus, with their Army.
Ant. Their preparation is to day by Sea,
We please them not by Land.
Scar. For both, my Lord.
Ant. I would they'd fight i'th' Fire, or in the Air,
We'd fight there too. But this it is, our Foot
Upon the Hills adjoining to the City
Shall stay with us. Order for Sea is given,
They have put forth the Haven: Further on,
Where their appointment we may beft discover,
And look on their endeavour.
Enter Casar, and his Army.
Caf. But being charg'd, we will be still by Land, Which as I take't we shall; for his best force
Is forth to Man his Gallies. To the Vales,
And hold our best Advantage.
[Alarum afar off, as at a Sea-fight.
Enter Antony, and Scarus.
Ant. Yet they are not join'd:
Where yond Pine stands, I shall discover all.
I'll bring thee word straight, how 'tis like to go. [Exit.
Scar. Swallows have built
In Cleopatra's Sails their Nests. The Auguries
Say, they know not they cannot tell-look grimly,
And dare not speak their Knowledge.
Is valiant, and dejected, and by starts,
His fretted Fortunes give him hope and fear
Of what he has, and has not.
SCENE VII. Alexandria.
This foul Ægyptian hath betrayed me!
My Fleet hath yielded to the Foe, and yonder,
They caft their Caps up, and Carowse together
Like Friends long loft. Triple-turn'd Whore! 'tis thou
Hast sold me to this Novice, and my Heart
Makes only Wars on thee. Bid them all fly:
For when I am reveng'd upon my Charm,
I have done all. Bid them all fly, be gone.
Oh Sun, thy uprise shall I fee no more:
Fortune and Antony part here, even here
Do we shake Hands - All come to this! The Hearts
That pannelled me at Heals, to whom I gave
Their wishes, do dif-candy, melt their sweets
On blossoming Cafar: And this Pine is bark'd,
That over-topt them all. Betray'd I am.
Oh this false Soul of Ægypt! this grave Charm,
Whose Eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home:
Whose Bosom was my Crownet, my chief end,
Like a right Gipfie, hath at faft and loofe
Beguil'd me, to the very Heart of lofs.
What Eros, Eros!
Cleo. Why is my Lord enrag'd against his Love?
Ant. Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving,
And blemish Casar's Triumph. Let him take thee,
And hoist thee up to th' shouting Plebeians;
Follow his Chariot, like the greatest Spot
Of all thy Sex. Most Monster like be shewn
For poor'st Diminutives, for Dolts; and let
Patient Octavia plough thy Visage up
With her prepared Nails. 'Tis well thou'rt gone,
If it be well to live. But better 'twere
Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death
Might have prevented many. Eros, hoa!
The shirt of Neffus is upon me; teach me,
Alcides, thou mine Ancestor, thy rage:
Let me lodge Licas on the horns o'th' Moon,
And with those hands that graspt the heaviest Club,
Subdue my worthiest self. The Witch shall die;
To the young Roman Boy she hath sold me, and I fall
Under his Plot: She dies for't. Eros, hoa!
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardian.
Cleo. Help me, my Women! Oh he is more mad
Than Telamon for his Shield, the Boar of Thessaly
Was never so imboft.
Char. To th' Monument, there lock your self,
And fend him word you are dead:
The Soul and Body rive not more in parting,
Than greatness going off.
Cleo. To th' Monument;
Mardian, go tell him I have slain my felf,
Say, that the last I spoke was Antony,
And word it, prethee, pitioufly. Hence, Mardian,
And bring me how he takes my death to th' Monument.
SCENE VIII. Cleopatra's Palace.
Enter Antony and Eros.
Ant. Eros, thou yet behold'st me?
Eros. Ay, noble Lord.
Ant. Sometime we fee a Cloud that's Dragonish,
A Vapour sometime, like a Bear, or Lion,
A tower'd Cittadel, a pendant Rock,
A forked Mountain, or blue Promontory
With Trees upon't, that nod unto the World,
And mock our Eyes with Air. Thou hast feen these signs,
They are black Vesper's Pageants.
Eros. Ay, my Lord.
Ant. That which is now a Horse, even with a Thought The Rack dislimn's, and makes it indiftin& As water is in water
Ant. My good Knave, Eros, now thy Captain is
Even such a Body; here I am Antony,
Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my Knave
I made these wars for Egypt, and the Queen,
Whose Heart I thought I had, for she had mine;
Which whilst it was mine, had annext unto't
A Million more, now loft; she, Eros, has
Packt Cards with Cafar, and false plaid my Glory
Unto an Enemy's Triumph.
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