 | Antony and Cleopatra |  |
SCENE V.
Enobarbus enters.Ant.
Domitius Enobarbus!—By the Jove
Of Horned Ammon, he!—How's this, Domitius?
Did I not leave thee in thy darling Italy,
From whence thou didst refuse to move thy foot,
Or share our further fortunes?
Enob.
True—it is all very true.
Ant.
And whence, and how, this most unlook'd for meeting?
Enob.
Because I am an ass—is that any matter
of news? Here I am come again to you, though
the tide of discretion, and the wind of good fortune,
were both full in my teeth.
Ant.
Why didst thou come, then?
Enob.
Why?—for no why, that I know of.—
Can any man give a reason for acting against reason?
I'd have been damn'd, before I'd a come
near you, if I could have found in my heart to
have kept away.—In my conscience, I think a
lady, who shall be nameless, has given you a love-potion,
and you have bequeathed the dregs to a
certain foolish attendant of yours.
Ant.
Thank you, thank you, my honest soldier—
We will live to recompence this, and all former friendships.
Cleo.
Welcome to Egypt, my old monitor!
No more of that, madam, no more of
that—the last flaggon that I drank to your healths,
has washed all kinds of catechism from memory;
and I come to spend, what is lent me of life, in a
laugh.—Is there no game on foot?—what jollity,
what jubilee?—I will lead a dance to the maddest
in Alexandria,
Charm.
You are welcome to Egypt!
Iras.
Welcome to Egypt, sir!
Enob.
Thanks, thanks, my sweet lasses!—but,
take care of your tyres, to night—there will be
romps, I can tell ye!
Ant.
That's my brave Enobarbus!
My Queen, my goddess!
Yield him thy bluest veins—a hand that kings
Have lip'd, and trembled, kissing.
[Enobarbus kisses her hand.
Enob.
By my troth, lovely lady, the world
will never, again, give such another sweet
apology, for a man's playing beside the purpose.—
Cleo.
Your true friend, ever.
Messenger enters.
Mess.
My lord, a swift wing'd galley from Tarentum,
Brings word that Cæsar, with a mighty power,
Sets out for Alexandria.
Ant.
'Twere safer for him to have kept in port.
To bark at joy, and interrupt the pleasures
His sourness cannot taste?—We will chastize
The boy for his presumption.
Enob.
My lord, I had forgot to tell you,
that, before I left Italy, Cæsar did publish a multitude
of manifestos against you, appealing to
the injury you had done his sister, and to the
justice of his own quarrel, as he was pleased to
stile it.
Ant.
No matter, no matter.—Guessing whereto
I was bound,
He sent me a saucy message to Brundusium;
To which I return'd,
That my weapon was desirous to give him personal answer—
Or, that I would meet him, host to host, on the plains
Of that Pharsalia, where I did help his uncle,
Cæsar, to wrest the world from Pompey.
Cleo.
A woman to a boy, is equal controversy:
I will, myself, go forth and chase him home!
I have one hundred of the range of war,
All in the bay, full mann'd, and 'quipt for service.
Ant.
That's my Penthesilea!—We look out
For our fleets, hourly;—here they were appointed.
We'll fight with him by sea!
My dear master,
Why would you do so?—You have here, at hand,
The force of nineteen legions, veterans all,
The honourable remnant and approof
Of courage, often tried, but never conquer'd.
These were enough to win the world to Antony,
Though all of it were Cæsar's.
Cleo.
'Tis against Cleopatra that Rome comes:
The cause is Egypt's, Egypt's be the quarrel!
Ant.
The cause is your's, and your's be all the glory!
Enob.
You, therein, throw away
The absolute soldiership you have by land;
You do forego your own renowned knowledge,
And cast assurance to the jaws of fortune.
Cleo.
Would you, then, let him land?—By sea, my Antony!
Ant.
By sea, by sea, my mistress!
Enob.
O, noble emperor, do not fight by sea!
Trust not to rotten planks—Do you misdoubt
Our swords, and these our wounds?—Let the Egyptians
And the Phænicians go a ducking—We
Are used to conquer standing firm on earth,
And fighting foot to foot.
Ant.
Well, well—away—
By sea, by land, by fire, or in the air,
[Exeunt.
Enob.
Well, Antony, well—the gods make
me a false prophet!—but we shall see, we shall
see!
[Exit.
| Antony and Cleopatra | |