Imatges de pÓgina

Upon himself.

Enter a Messenger,
Mel. Mark Antony is come into the field.

cés. Go, charge, Agrippa ;
Plant those, that have revolted, in the Van,
That Antony may seem to spend his fury

Eno. Alexas did revolt, and went to Jewry on
Affairs of Antony ; there did perswade
Great Herod to incline himself to Cæfar,
And leave his master Antony. For this pains,
Cæfar hath hang’d him: Canidius, and the rest,
That fell away, have entertainment, but
No honourable Trust: I have done ill,
Of which I do accuse my self so forely,
That I will joy no more.

Enter a Soldier of Cæfar's.
Sold. Enobarbus, Antony
Hath after thee fent all thy treasure, with
His bounty over-plus. The Messenger
Came on my Guard, and at thy Tent is now
Unloading of his mules.

Eno. I give it you.

Sold. Mock me not, Enobarbus,
I tell you true ; beft, you see safe’t the bringer
Out of the Host: I must attend mine office,
Or would have donc't my self. Your Emperor
Continues still a Yove.

Eno. I am alone the villain of the earth,
And feel, I am so moft. Oh Antony,
Thou Mine of Bounty, how wouldit thou have paid
My better service, when my turpitude
Thou dost so crown with gold! This bows my heart,
If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean
Shall out-strike thought; but thought will do't, I feel.
1 fight against thee! no I will go

seek cording to the Geography of those Days ; Europe, Aha, and Africk making but three Angles of the Globe : and the American Parts not be ing then discover'd.


Agr. R

Some ditch, where I may die; the foul'st best fits
My latter part of life.

[Exit. SCENE, before the Walls of Alexandria. Alarum. Drums and Trumpets. Enter Agrippa.

Etire, we have engag'd our selves too far:

Cæsar himself has work, and our oppression Exceeds what we expected.

[Exit. Ålarum. Enter Antony, and Scarus wounded. Scar. O my brave Emperor! this is fought, indeed; Had we done so at first, we had droven them home With clouts about their heads.

Ant. Thou blecd'st apace.

Scar. I had a wound here that was like a T,
But now 'tis made an H.

Ant. They do retire.
Scar. We'll beat 'em into bench-holes ; I have

yet Room for six scotches more.

Enter Eros.
Eros. They're beaten, Sir, and our advantage serves
For a fair vidtory.

Scar. Let us score their backs,
And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind
?Tis sport to maul a runner.

Ant. I will reward thee
Once for thy sprightly comfort, and ten-fold
For thy good valour. Come thee on.
Scar. I'll halt after.

[Exeunt. Alarum. Enter Antony again in a March, Scarus

with others. Ant. We've beat him to his Camp; (47) run One be

fore, And let the Queen know of our Gests; to morrow,

Before (47)

run One before, And let the Queen know of our Guests.] What Guests was the



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Before the Sun shall see's, we'll spill the blood
That has to day escap'd. I thank you

For doughty-handed are you, and have fought
Not as you serv'd the cause, but as't had been
Each man's like mine ; you've shewn yourselves all

Enter the City, clip your wives, your friends,
Tell them your feats, whilft they with joyful tears.
Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss
The honour'd gathes whole. Give me thy hand,

[To Șcarus.
Enter Cleopatra.
To this great Faiery I'll commend thy acts,
Make her thanks bless thee. Othou 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.

Cleo. Lord of Lords !
Oh, infinite virtue ! com'st thou smiling from
The world's great snare, uncaught?

Ant. My nightingale !
We've 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 goal for goal of youth. Behold this man, (48) Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand;

Kiss Queen to know of? Antony was to fight again on the morrow; and he had not yet said a Word of marching to Alexandria, and treating his Oficers in the Palace, We muit restore, as Mr. Warburton likewise prescribes;

And let the Queen know of our Gests. į. e. res geste; our Feats, our glorious A&tions. It is a Term, that frequently occurs in Chaucer; and, after him, in Spencer; nor did it cease to be current for some time after our Author's Days.

(48) Commend unto his Lips thy favouring Hand.] Antony is here rz. commending one of his Captains, who had fought valiantly, to Cleopa. tra; and desires, he may have the Grace of kising her Hand.

But why, Javçuring Hand? He did not want his Captain to grow in Love

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Kiss 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 carbuncled
Like holy Phoebus' 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 Host, we all would sup together;
And drink carowses to the next day's Fate,
Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters,
With brazen din blaft you the city's ear,
Make mingle with our ratling tabourines,
That heav'n and earth may strike their sounds together,
Applauding our approach.


SCENE changes to Cæsar's Camp.

Enter à Gentry, and his Company. Enobarbus follows. Cent. F we be not reliev'd within this hour,

.; the Is shiny, and, they say, we shall embattel [night 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?
I Watch. Stand close, and list 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. with his Mistress, on Account of the Flavour and Lusciousness of her Hand; but only to have a Reward of Honour from the Queen for his good Service. I therefore believe, the Poet wrote;

Commend unto his Lips thy favouring Hand. Tho' none of the printed Copies countenance this Reading, yet nothing is more common at Press than for an s to usurp the place of an f, and to vice versa.


Cent. Enobarbus?
3 Watch. Peace; hark further.

Éno. 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 hardnefs 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 !

[Dies. i Watch. Let's speak to him.

Cent. Let's hear him, for the things he speaks May concern Cæfar.

2 Watch. Let's do so, but he sleeps.

Cent. Swoons rather, for fo bad a prayer as his
Was never yet for sleep.

I Watch. Go we to him.
Ź Watch. Awake, Sir, awake, speak to us.
i Watch. Hear you, Sir?
Cent. The hand of death has raught him.

[Drums afar off Hark, how the drums demurely wake the sleepers : Let's bear him to the Court of Guard; he is of note. Our hour is fully out. 2 Watch. Come on then, he may recover yet.

[Exeunt. SCENE, between the two Camps.

Enter Antony, and Scarus, with their Army.

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


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