 | Antony and Cleopatra |  |
SCENE VIII.
To Antony, Enobarbus.Enob.
To the east, to the east, my emperor!
Octavia comes, with fifty sail o'the line,
To snatch you from her brother—She, herself,
Will company your escape.
Ant.
I will not go.
Enob.
Not go?
Now, my most precious master, I do pray you,
Leave this bad woman!
403
Bad woman?—Slave and lyar!
Enob.
Ha!—
Slave, Antony, slave?—we chafe, and grow forgetful.
Ant.
Didst thou not swear, even now, that she was false?
O, more than heavenly truth!—than tortured gold,
Come forth with all its weight!—
Go—thou malicious!—thou hast ever been
A boom athwart my current—Thou dost cry,
Escape, escape!—and would'st make me the vile
Associate of thy fears—Hence—fly, brave captain!
Shelter thyself with Cæsar—hence, I say!—
Enob.
I had but two small reasons for my staying—
The one was, that which made all others leave you,
Your misfortunes, Antony.—The second—
No matter for the second reason, Antony!—
You merit not to have it—Fare you well!
[Exit.
Antony walks about discomposed.
Ant.
—Bad woman?—
O, the lyar!—
When will these passions leave me?—
—Fool that he was! he parted me,
When I had destined him, at least, a kingdom,
In quittance of his services—
I am sorry!—Scarus!—
404
Scarus.
My lord!
Ant.
Is Enobarbus gone?
Scarus.
He is, sir.
Ant.
Follow and call him back—Stay yet, a little—
Ar't certain he is gone?
Scarus.
I am, sir.
I met, and ask'd him whither he was bound?—
He put a sudden kerchief to his face,
And sobb'd aloud—to Cæsar!
Ant.
O, I am grown the very strangler
Of those who help'd my breathing—Who went with him?
Scarus.
He went alone, my lord.
Ant.
His treasures, man—
Those he took, certain!
Scarus.
Not any thing, my good lord.
Ant.
Haste, Scarus—take them after.—
Do it—detain no jot—load me ten camels.—
Treble his store!—bear thanks and greetings to him!
My best adieus and prayers, that he may find
A master less ungrateful!
[Exit Scarus.
Ant.
Thy fellow, thy fellow, Enobarbus!—
I must live long for that!
To Antony, Eros.
Eros.
The Queen, my lord,
Does feast your soldiers in the market-place.
They are brave fellows, and become their seams.
405
For Antony!
Ant.
There's hope in't yet—
We'll have one other blazing night, my Eros,
Before we die.—Call to me my sad captains.
Set on the banquet—fill our bowls—once more,
Let's mock the midnight bell!
Eros.
That's my brave master!
Ant.
I will be treble sinew'd, hearted, breathed,
And fight maliciously!—I'll set my teeth,
And send to darkness all that stop me!
Come on, my soldier—the next time I fight,
I'll make death envious; for I will contend,
Even with his pestilent scythe!
[Exeunt.
| Antony and Cleopatra | |