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Part 19

Antony and Cleopatra · William Shakespeare — chapter 19 of 43 · ~591 words · public domain

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Pom. Ile try you on the shore

Anth. And shall Sir, giues your hand

Pom. Oh Anthony, you haue my Father house. But what, we are Friends? Come downe into the Boate

Eno. Take heed you fall not Menas: Ile not on shore, No to my Cabin: these Drummes, These Trumpets, Flutes: what Let Neptune heare, we bid aloud farewell To these great Fellowes. Sound and be hang'd, sound out.

Sound a Flourish with Drummes.

Enor. Hoo saies a there's my Cap

Men. Hoa, Noble Captaine, come.

Exeunt.

Enter Ventidius as it were in triumph, the dead body of Pacorus borne before him.

Ven. Now darting Parthya art thou stroke, and now Pleas'd Fortune does of Marcus Crassus death Make me reuenger. Beare the Kings Sonnes body, Before our Army, thy Pacorus Orades, Paies this for Marcus Crassus

Romaine. Noble Ventidius, Whil'st yet with Parthian blood thy Sword is warme, The Fugitiue Parthians follow. Spurre through Media, Mesapotamia, and the shelters, whether The routed flie. So thy grand Captaine Anthony Shall set thee on triumphant Chariots, and Put Garlands on thy head

Ven. Oh Sillius, Sillius, I haue done enough. A lower place note well May make too great an act. For learne this Sillius, Better to leaue vndone, then by our deed Acquire too high a Fame, when him we serues away. Caesar and Anthony, haue euer wonne More in their officer, then person. Sossius One of my place in Syria, his Lieutenant, For quicke accumulation of renowne, Which he atchiu'd by'th' minute, lost his fauour. Who does i'th' Warres more then his Captaine can, Becomes his Captaines Captaine: and Ambition (The Souldiers vertue) rather makes choise of losse Then gaine, 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 Souldier and his Sword graunts scarce distinction: thou wilt write to Anthony

Ven. Ile humbly signifie what in his name, That magicall word of Warre we haue effected, How with his Banners, and his well paid ranks, The nere-yet beaten Horse of Parthia, We haue iaded out o'th' Field

Rom. Where is he now? Ven. He purposeth to Athens, whither with what hast The waight we must conuay with's, will permit: We shall appeare before him. On there, passe along.

Exeunt.

Enter Agrippa at one doore, Enobarbus at another.

Agri. What are the Brothers parted? Eno. They haue dispatcht with Pompey, he is gone, The other three are Sealing. Octauia weepes To part from Rome: Caesar is sad, and Lepidus Since Pompey's feast, as Menas saies, is troubled With the Greene-Sicknesse

Agri. 'Tis a Noble Lepidus

Eno. A very fine one: oh, how he loues Caesar

Agri. Nay but how deerely he adores Mark Anthony

Eno. Caesar? why he's the Iupiter of men

Ant. What's Anthony, the God of Iupiter? Eno. Spake you of Caesar? How, the non-pareill? Agri. Oh Anthony, oh thou Arabian Bird! Eno. Would you praise Caesar, say Caesar go no further

Agr. Indeed he plied them both with excellent praises

Eno. But he loues Caesar best, yet he loues Anthony: Hoo, Hearts, Tongues, Figure, Scribes, Bards, Poets, cannot Thinke speake, cast, write, sing, number: hoo, His loue to Anthony. But as for Caesar, Kneele downe, kneele downe, and wonder

Agri. Both he loues

Eno. They are his Shards, and he their Beetle, so: This is to horse: Adieu, Noble Agrippa

Agri. Good Fortune worthy Souldier, and farewell. Enter Caesar, Anthony, Lepidus, and Octauia.

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