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Pom.

All there is thine.

Ah, this thou shouldst have done,

And not have spoke on 't! In me 'tis villany;
In thee 't 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.

Men. [Aside] For this

Pom.

Desist, and drink.

80

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.

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

Eno. Here's to thee, Menas!

Men.

Pom. Fill till the cup be hid.

Enobarbus, welcome!

Eno. There's a strong fellow, Menas.

Men. Why?

90

[Pointing to the Attendant who carries off Lepidus.

Eno. A' 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 vessels, ho!

Cas.

Here's to Cæsar!

I could well forbear't.

It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain

100

And it grows fouler.

Ant.

Be a child o' the time.

Cas. Possess it, I'll make answer:

Eno.

But I had rather fast from all four days

Than drink so much in one.

[To Antony] Ha, my brave emperor!

Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals,

And celebrate our drink?

Pom. Let's ha't, good soldier.

Ant. Come, let's all take hands,

Eno.

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Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense

In soft and delicate Lethe.

All take hands.

Make battery to our ears with the loud music:

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.

[Music plays. Enobarbus places them hand in hand.

THE SONG.

Come, thou monarch of the vine,

Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne!
In thy fats our cares be drown'd,

With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd : 120

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 Enobarbe
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 night.

Good Antony, your hand.

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

Ο Antony,
131
You have my father's house, -But, what? weare friends.
Come, down into the boat.

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These drums! these trumpets, flutes! what!

Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell

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

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Enter Ventidius, as it were in triumph, 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,

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.

10

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

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,

Sil.

Which he achieved by the minute, lost his favour. 20
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.

Thou hast, Ventidius, that

Without the 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,

30 Sil.

The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia
We have jaded out o' the field.

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. An ante-chamber in Casar's house.

Enter Agrippa at one door, and Enobarbus at another.
Agr. What, are the brothers parted?

Eno. They have dispatch'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 Mena 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 Antony !

Eno. Cæsar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men.

Agr. What's Antony? The god of Jupiter.
Eno. Spake you of Cæsar? How! the nonpariel!

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Agr. O Antony! O thou Arabian bird!

Eno. Would you praise Cæsar, say 'Cæsar': go no further. Agr. Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises.

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

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

cannot

Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number-ho!-
His love to Antony. But as for Cæsar,

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