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To do you justice, make their ministers
Of us, and those that love you. Be of comfort,
Agr. Welcome, lady.
Mec. Welcome, dear Madam.
Each heart in Rome does love and pity you;
And gives his potent regiment to a trull,
Octa. Is it fo, Sir?
Caf. It is most certain: fifter, welcome; pray you, Be ever known to patience. My dear'ft fifter! [Exeunt.
SCENE, near the Promontory of Actium.
Enter Cleopatra and Enobarbus.
will be even with thee, doubt it not.
Cleo. Thou haft forefpoke my being in these wars;
Eno. Well, is it, is it?
Cléo. Is't not denounc'd against us? why fhould not we be there in person?
Eno. Well, I could reply; if we should ferve with horfe and mares together, the horfe were merely loft; the mares would bear a foldier and his horfe.
Cleo. What is't you say?
Eno. Your prefence needs muft puzzle Antony; Take from his heart, take from his brain, from's time, What should not then be fpar'd. He is already Traduc'd for levity, and 'tis faid in Rome,
Why muft Shakespeare be guilty of fuch an obvious falfe Concord ? the high Gods make his Minifters? He has not writ thus in a parallel Paffage; and therefore the Abfurdity ought to be laid to the Editors.
Is ripe for fhaking, and the Pow'rs above
That Photinus an eunuch, and your maids,
Cleo. Sink Rome, and their tongues rot
That fpeak against us! A charge we bear i'th' war;
I will not ftay behind.
Enter Antony and Canidius.
Eno. Nay, I have done here comes the Emperor. Ant. Is it not strange, Canidius,
That from Tarentum, and Brundufium,
He could fo quickly cut th' Ionian sea,
And take in Toryne? You have heard on't, Sweet?
Than by the negligent.
Ant. A good rebuke,
Which might have well become the best of men
Will fight with him by fea.
Cleo. By fea, what elfe?
Can. Why will my Lord do fo?
Ant. For that he dares us to't.
Eno. So hath my Lord dar'd him to fingle fight. Can. Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharfalia, Where Cafar fought with Pompey. But thefe offers, Which ferve not for his vantage, he shakes off; And fo fhould you.
Eno. Your fhips are not well mann'd,
Your mariners are muleteers, reapers, people
Ant. By fea, by fea.
Eno. Moft worthy Sir, you therein throw away
Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego
Ant. I'll fight at fea.
Cleo. I have fixty fails, Cafar none better.
And, with the reft full-mann'd, from th' head of Actium Beat the approaching Cafar. But if we fail,
We then can do't at land.
Enter a Meffenger.
Mef. The news is true, my Lord; he is defcry'd; Cæfar has taken Toryne.
Ant. Can he be there in perfon? 'tis impoffible.
And our twelve thousand horfe. We'll to our fhip;
Enter a Soldier.
How now, worthy foldier?
Sold. Oh noble Emperor, do not fight by fea, Trust not to rotten planks: do you misdoubt
This fword, and these my wounds? let the Egyptians And the Phoenicians go a ducking: we
Have us'd to conquer standing on the earth,
And fighting foot to foot.
Ant. Well, well, away. [Exeunt Ant. Cleo. and Enob, Sold. By Hercules, I think, I am i'th' right.
Can. Soldier, thou art; but his whole action grows
Not in the power on't: fo our leader's led,
And we are women's men.
Sold. You keep by land
The legions and the horfe whole, do you not?
Publicola, and Celius, are for fea :
But we keep whole by land. This fpeed of Cafar's
Carries beyond belief.
Sold. While he was yet in Rome,
His power went out in fuch diftractions as
Can. Who's his lieutenant, hear you?
Can. Well I know the man.
Enter a Messenger.
Mef. The Emperor calls Canidius.
Can. With news the time's in labour, and throes forth,
Each minute, fome.
Enter Cæfar, with his army marching.
Taur. My Lord.
Caf. Strike not by land. Keep whole, provoke not
"Till we have done at fea. Do not exceed
The prefcript of this fcroul: our fortune lies
Upon this jump.
Enter Antony and Enobarbus.
Ant. Set we our squadrons on yond fide o'th' hill,
Canidius, marching with his land-army one way over the Aage; and Taurus, the lieutenant of Cæfar, the other way: after their going in, is heard the noise of a feafight. Alarm. Enter Enobarbus.
Ene. Naught, naught, all naught, I can behold no longer;
Th' Antonias, the Egyptian admiral,
With all their fixty, fly, and turn the rudder:
To fee't, mine eyes are blasted.
Scar. Gods and Goddeffes,
All the whole Synod of them!
Eno. What's thy paffion?
Scar. The greater cantle of the world is loft With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away Kingdoms and Provinces.
Eno. How appears the fight?
Scar. On our fide like the token'd peftilence, Where death is fure. Your ribauld nag of Ægypt, (Whom leprofy o'er-take!) i'th' midst o'th' fight, (When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd Both as the fame, or rather ours the elder ;) The breeze upon her, like a cow in June, Hoifts fails, and flies.
Eno. That I beheld :
Mine eyes did ficken at the fight, and could not
Scar. She once being looft,
The noble ruin of her magick, Antony,
Eno. Alack, alack.
Can. Our fortune on the fea is out of breath, And finks moft lamentably. Had our General Been what he knew himself, it had
Oh, he has given example for our flight,
Moft grofly by his own.
Eno. Ay, are you thereabouts? why then, good night, indeed.
Can. Toward Peloponnefus are they fled.
Scar. "Tis eafy to't.
And there I will attend what further comes.
Can. To Cæfar will I render
My legions and my horfe; fix Kings already
Eno. I'll yet follow