Pom. Thou haft ferv'd me with much faith; what's elfe to say? Be jolly, Lords. Ant. Thefe Quick-fands, Lepidus. Keep off them, for you fink. Men. Wilt thou be Lord of all the World? Pom. What fay'st thou? Men. Wilt thou be Lord of the whole World? that's twice. Pom. How fhall that be? Men. But entertain it, and though thou think me poor, I am the Man will give thee all the World. Pomp. Haft thou drunk well? Men. No, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup, Thou art, if thou dar'ft be, the earthly Jove: What e'er the Ocean pales, or Sky inclips, Is thine, if thou wilt ha't. Pom. Shew me which way. Men. These three World-Sharers, thefe Competitors. Pom. Ah, this thou shouldft have done, And not have spoken on't. In me 'tis villany, Thy pall'd Fortunes more; Who feeks and will not take, when once 'tis offer'd, Shall never find it more. Pom. This health to Lepidus. Ant. Bear him afhoar, I'll pledge it for him, Pompey. Eno. There's a ftrange Fellow, Menas [Pointing to Lepidus. Eno. A bears the third part of the World, Man! feeft not? Men. Men. The third Part, then is drunk; 'would it were all, that it might go on Wheels. Eno. Drink thou, encreafe the Reels. Men. Come. Pom. This is not yet an Alexadrian Feaft. Ant. It ripens towards it; ftrike the Veffels hoa. Here's to Cafar. Caf. I could well forbear't, it's monftrous labour when I wash my Brain, and it grows fouler. Ant. Be a Child o' th' time. Caf Poffefs it, I'll make anfwer; but I had rather faft from all, four Days, than drink so much in one. Exo Ha, my brave Emperor, fhall we dance now the Ægyptian Bacchanals, and celebrate our drink? Pom. Let's ha't, good Soldier. Ant. Come let's all take Hands, 'Till that the conquering Wine hath steept our Senfe, In foft and delicate Lethe. Eno. All take Hands: Make battery to our Ears with the loud Mufick, As his ftrong fides the volly. Mufick plays. Enobarbus place them Hand in Hand. Come thou Monarch of the Vine, Cup us till the World go round." Caf. What would you more? Pompey, good Night. Good Brother Let me request you of; our graver Business Frowns at this levity. Gentle Lords, let's part, Antickt Antickt us all. What needs more words; good Night. Good Antony, your Hand. Pom.. I'll try you on the Shoar. Ant. And fhall, Sir, give's your Hand. Pom. Oh, Antony, you have my Father's House.. But what, we are Friends? Come down into the Bear. Eno. Take heed you fall not, Men. I'll not on Shoar. No, to my Cabin-these Drums! These Trumpets, Flutes! what! Let Neptune hear, we bid aloud farewel To these great Fellows. Sound and be hang'd, found out. Eno. Hoo fays a! There's my Cap. Sound a Flourish with Drums. [Exeunt. Men. Hoa, noble Captain, come. ACT III. SCENE I. SCENE A Camp. Enter Ventidius in Triumph, the dead Body of Pacorus born before him, Roman Soldiers and Attendants. Ven. OW darting Parthia art thou ftruck, and now Make me revenger. Bear the King's Son's Body Rom, Noble Ventidius, Whilft yet with Parthian Blood thy Sword is warm, The routed fly. So thy grand Captain Antony Ven. Oh Silius, Silius, I have done enough. A lower Place, note well Acquire too high a Fame, when him we serve's away. More More in their Officer, than Perfon. Sofins, Which he atchiev'd by th' minute, loft his favour. I could do more to do Anthonius good, But 'twould offend him; and in his offence, Rom. Thou haft, Ventidius, that, without the which A Soldier and his Sword grants fcarce diftin&tion: Thou wilt write to Antony, Ven. I'll humbly fignifie what in his Name, That magical word of War, we have effected, How with his Banners, and his well paid ranks, That ne'er-yet beaten Hoife of Parthia We have jaded out o'th' Field. Rom. Where is he now? Ven. He purpofeth to Athens; whither with what hafte The weight we must convey with's, will permit, We shall appear before him. On there, pafs along. [Exeunt. Enter Agrippa at one Door, Enobarbus at another. Agr. 'Tis a noble Lepidus. Eno. A very fine one; oh, how he loves Cafar. Eno Eno. Would you praise Cafar, fay Cafar, go no further. Agr. Indeed he plied them both with excellent praifes. Eno. But he loves Cafar beft, yet he loves Antony: Ho! Hearts, Tongues, Figure, Scribes, Bards, Poets, cannot Think, fpeak, caft, write, fing, number; ho, His love to Antony. But as for Cafar, Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder- Eno. They are his Shards, and he their Beetle, fo--This is to Horfe; adieu, noble Agrippa. [Trumpets. Caf. You take from me a great part of my self: Ant. Make me not offended In vour diftruft. Caf. I have faid. Ant. You fhall not and, Though you be certain curious, the leaft caufe Caf. Farewel, my deareft Sifter, fare thee wel', Thy Spirits all of comfort; fare thee well. Oct. My noble Brother. Ant. The April's in her Eyes, it is loves fpring, And these the fhowers to bring it on; be chearful. Oct. Sir, look well to my Husband's Houfe; and--Caf. What Octavia. Oct. I'll tell you in your Ear. Ant. |