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Where haft thou been, my heart dost thou hear, lady?
If from the field I should return once more
To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood;
I and my sword will earn my chronicle;
There's hope in't yet.

Cieo. That's my brave Lord.

Ant. I will be treble-finew'd, hearted, breath'd,
And fight maliciously : for when my hours
Were nice and lucky, men did ransome lives
Of me for jefts; but now I'll fet


teeth, And fend to darkness all that stop me. Come, Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me All my

sad captains, fill our bowls ; once more Let's mock the midnight bell.

Cleo. It is my birth-day; I had thought i'have held it poor : Bat since my Lord Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.

Ant. We will yet do well. Cleo. Call all his noble captains to my Lord. Ant. Do so, we'll speak to them, and to-night I'll force The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my Queen; There's sap in't yet. The next time I do figlit, I'll make death love me ; for I will contend Even with his peftilent fcythe.

Exeunt. Eno. Now he'll out-stare the lightning; to be furious, Is to be frighted out of fear; and, in that mood, The dove will peck the estridge; and, I see ftill, A diminution in our captain's brain Restores his heart; when valour preys on reason, It eats the sword it fights with : I will seek Some way to leave him.


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SCENE, Cæsar's Camp.


Enter Cæsar, Agrippa, and Mecænas, with their
Army. Cæsar reading a Letter.

E calls me boy; and chides, as he had power

To beat me out of Ægypt. My messenger
He hath whipt with rods, dares me to personal combat;
Cæfar to Antony. Let the old ruffian know,
I have many other ways to die: mean time,
Laugh at his challenge.

Mec. Cæfar must think,
When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted
Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now
Make boot of his distraction: never anger
Made good guard for itself.

Cæs. Let our best heads
Know, that to-morrow the last of many

We mean to fight. Within our files there are
Of those that serv'd Mark Antony but late,
Enough to fetch him in. See, it be done';
And feast the army; we have store to do't,
And they have earn’d the waste. Poor Antony !

[Exeunt. SCENE, the Palace in Alexandria.

Enter Antony and Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian,

Iras, Alexas, with others.
Ant. E will not fight with me, Domitius.

Eno. No.
Ant. Why should he not?
Eno. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,



He's twenty men to one.

Ant. To-morrow, foldier,
By sea and land I'll fight: or I will live,
Or bathe my dying honour in the blood
Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well ?
Eno. I'll strike, and cry,

" take all.”
Ant. Well said, come on :
Call forth my houshold fervants, let's to-tight

Enter Servants, Be bounteous at our meal. Give me thy hand, Thou haft been rightly honest; so haft thou, And thou, and thou, and thou : you've ferv'd me well, And Kings have been your fellows.

Cleo. What means this?

Eno. 'Tis one of those odd tricks, which sorrow shoots Out of the mind.

Ant. And thou art honeft too :
I wish, I could be made fo many men ;
And all of you clapt up together in
An Antony ; that I might do you service,
So good as you have done.

Omnes. The Gods forbid !

Ant. Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night';
Scant not my caps, and make as much of me,
As when my Empire was your fellow too,
And sufferd my command.

Cleo. What does he mean?
Eno. To make his followers weep.

Ant. Tend me to-night;
May be, it is the period of your duty ;
Haply, you shall not see me more ; or if,
A mangled shadow.


chance, to-morrow
You'll serve another master. I look on you,
As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends,
I turn you not away; but like a master
Married to your good service, stay till death :
Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more,
And the Gods yield you fort !
Eno. What mean you, Sir, -



To give them this discomfort? look, they weep.
And I, an afs, am onion-ey'd ; for shame,
Transform us not to women,

Ant. Ho, ho, ho !
Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus !
Grace grow, where those drops fall! my hearty friends,
You take me in too dolorous a fense ;
I spake you for your comfort, did desire you
To burn this night with torches : know, my hearts,
I hope well of to-morrow, and will lead you,
Where rather I'll expect victorious life,
Than death and honour. Let's to supper, come,
And drown consideration.

[Exeunt. SCENE, a Court of Guard before the Palace.

Enter a company of Soldiers. Sold.

Rother, good-night: to-morrow is the day.

2 Sold. It will determine one way : Fare Heard you of nothing strange about the streets ?

1 Sold. Nothing: what news ? 2 Sold. Belike, 'tis but a rumour; good-night to you. 1 Sold. Well, Sir, good night.

[They meet with other Soldiers. 2 Sold. Soldiers, have careful watch. I Sold. And you, good-night, good-night.

[They place themselves on every corner of the fage. 2 Sold. Here, we; and if to-morrow Our

navy thrive, I have an absolute hope Our landmen will stand up. I Sold. 'Tis a brave army, and full of purpose.

[Mufick of the bautboys is under the flage. 2 Sold. Peace, what noise ? I Sold, Lift, lift ! 2 Sold. Hark! I Sold. Musick i'th' air.

3 Sold. Under the earth.It signes well, does it not? 2 Sold. No,

you well.

I Sold. Peace, I say : what should this mean?

2 Sold. 'Tis the God Hercules, who loved Antony, Now leaves him.

I Sold. Walk, let's see if other watchmen Do hear what we do. 2 Sold. How now, masters ?

[Speak together. Omnes. How now? how now ? do


hear this? 1 Sold. Is’t not strange ? 3 Sold. Do

you hear, masters ? do you hear ? i Scid. Follow the noise so far as we have quarter, Let's see how 'twill give off. Omnes, Content: 'tis strange.


SCENE changes to Cleopatra's Palace.

Enter Antony and Cleopatra, with others. Ant.

Cleo. Sleep a little.
Ant. No, my chuck: Eros, come, mine armour, Eros.

Enter Eros.
Come, my good fellow, put thine iron on;
If fortune be not ours to-day, it is
Because we brave her. Come.

Cleo. Nay, I'll help too, Antony.
What's this for? ah, let be, let be; thou art
The armourer of my heart ;-false, false; this, this ;-
Sooth-la, I'll help: thus it must be.

Ant. Well, well, we shall thrive now;
Seest thou, my good fellow ? Go, put on thy defences.

Eno. Briefly, Sir.
Cleo. Is not this buckled well?

Ant. Rarely, rarely:
He that unbuckles this, till we do please
To doff't for our repose, shall hear a storm.
Thou fumblest, Eros; and my Queen's a squire
More tight at this than thou; dispatch. O love!
That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew'st
The royal occupation; thou shouldīt see

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