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

night.

Good Antony, your hand.

Pom.

Good

I'll try you on 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.

Take heed you fall not.

[Exeunt Pom. Ca. Ant. and Attendants.

Eno.

Menas, I'll not on shore.

Menas.

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 florish of trumpets, with drums.

Eno. Ho, says 'a! There's my cap.

Menas.

Ho! noble captain! come. [Exeunt.

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

Pleased Fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death

Make me revenger. Bear the king's son's body
Before our army: thy Pacorus, Orodes,1

Pays this for Marcus Crassus.

Sil.

Noble Ventidius,

Whilst yet with Parthian 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 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 to leave undone, than by our deed

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

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 achieved by the minute, lost his favor.
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 the which a soldier, and his sword,

Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to An

tony?

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.

Where is he now?

Sil.
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 [Exeunt.

along.

h

SCENE II.

Rome. An antechamber in Casar'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 sickness.

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 non-
pareil !

*Agr. O Antony! O thou Arabian bird! 1

Eno. Would you praise Cæsar, say,-Cæsar;

go no farther.

Agr. Indeed, he plied them both with excellent

praises.

Eno. But he loves Cæsar best; yet he loves Antony.

'The phoenix.

Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, poets,

cannot

Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number, ho, his

Eno. They are his shards,1 and he their beetle.

So,

This is to horse.-Adieu, noble Agrippa.

[trumpets.

Agr. Good fortune, worthy soldier; and fare

well

Enter CESAR, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA.

Ant. No farther, sir.

Ca. You take from me a great part of myself;

Use me well in 't.-Sister, prove such a wife

As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest band 2

Shall pass on thy approof.-Most noble Antony,
Let not the piece of virtue, which is set
Betwixt us, as the cement of our love,
To keep it builded, be the ram, to batter

The fortress of it: for better might we

Have loved without this mean, if on both parts
This be not cherish'd.