Sold.

Most certain.

Ant. Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it; Detain no jot, I charge thee: write to him (I will subscribe) gentle adieus, and greetings: Say, that I wish he never find more cause To change a master.-O, my fortunes have Corrupted honest men:-Eros, despatch.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

CÆSAR'S CAMP BEFORE ALEXANDRIA."

Flourish. Enter Casar, with Agrippa, Enobarbus, and Others.

Cæs. Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight:

Our will is, Antony be took alive;

Make it so known.

Agr. Cæsar, I shall.

[Exit Agrippa.

Cæs. The time of universal peace is near:

Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook'd world Shall bear the olive freely.

Plant those that have revolted in the van,

That Antony may seem to spend his fury

Upon himself.

[Exeunt Cæsar and his Train.

Eno. Alexas did revolt; and went to Jewry,

On affairs of Antony; there did persuade

Great Herod to incline himself to Cæsar,

And leave his master Antony: for this pains,
Cæsar 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 myself so sorely,
That I will joy no more.

Sold.

Enter a soldier of Cæsar's.

Enobarbus, Antony

Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with
His bounty overplus: 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: Best that you saf'd the bringer
Out of the host; I must attend mine office,
Or would have done't myself. Your emperor
Continues still a Jove.

[Exit Soldier.

Eno. I am alone the villain of the earth,

And feel I am so most. O Antony,

Thou mine of bounty, how would'st thou have paid My better service, when my turpitude

Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows

heart:

If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean

my

Shall outstrike thought: but thought will do't, I feel.

I fight against thee!-No: I will go seek

Some ditch, wherein to die; the foul'st best fits
My latter part of life.

[Exit.

SCENE VII.

FIELD OF BATTLE BETWEEN THE CAMPS.

Alarum. Drums and Trumpets. Enter Agrippa, and Others.

Agr. Retire, we have engag'd ourselves too far: Cæsar himself has work, and our oppression Exceeds what we expected.

[Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter Antony and Scarus, wounded. Scar, O my brave emperor, this is fought in

deed!

Had we done so at first, we had driven them home With clouts about their heads.

Ant.

Thou bleed'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 are beaten, sir; and our advantage

serves

For a fair victory.

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 spritely comfort, and ten-fold

Alarum. Enter Antony, marching; Scarus, and Forces.

Ant. We have beat him to his camp: Run one

before,

And let the queen know of our guests.-To-mor

row,

Before the sun shall see us, we'll spill the blood
That has to-day escap'd. I thank you all;
For doughty-handed are you; and have fought
Not as you serv'd the cause, but as it had been
Each man's like mine; you have shown all Hectors.
Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends,
Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears
Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss
The honour'd gashes whole.-Give me thy hand;
[To Scarus.

Enter Cleopatra, attended.

To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts,

Make her thanks bless thee.-O thou day o' the

world,

Chain mine arm'd neck; leap thou, attire and all,

Through proof of harness to my heart, and there

Ride on the pants triúmphing.

Cleo.

Lord of lords!

O infinite virtue! com'st thou smiling from
The world's great snare uncaught?

Ant.

My nightingale,

We have beat them to their beds. What, girl?

though grey

Do something mingle with our brown; yet have we
A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can
Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man;
Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand;—
Kiss it, my warrior:-He hath fought to-day,
As if a god, in hate of mankind, had

Destroy'd 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 Phœbus' car.-Give me thy hand;

Through Alexandria make a jolly march;

Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them:

Had our great palace the capacity

To camp this host, we all would sup together;
And drink carouses to the next day's fate,
Which promises royal peril.-Trumpeters,
With brazen din blast you the city's ear;
Make mingle with our rattling tabourines;
That heaven and earth may strike their sounds to-

gether,

Applauding our approach.

[Exeunt.