University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

While Cleopatra prepares to go out, Trumpets sound. Antony enters in Triumph.
Cleo.
Lord of heroes!
O, first of valours! Com'st thou smiling from
The whole world's toil, uncaught?

[Embraces.
Ant.
My nightingale!
We have beat them to their beds.—Give me thy hand!
Through Alexandria make a jolly march,
Bear our hack'd harness, like the men that own them!
I thank you all, for doughty-handed are ye.
Enter the city—clip your wives, your friends;
Tell them your feats, while they, with joyful tears,
Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss
The honour'd gashes whole!

[Exeunt Soldiers.
Cleo.
Soldier of glory!—Antony of Romans!
What has thine arm atchiev'd!

Ant.
O Queen of all contents—Spirit of love!
But for a single loss, this glorious day,
Of all the days of my triumphant life,
Had born away the palm!

Cleo.
What loss, my hero?—
Amid the acquisition of a world,
What loss can come?

Ant.
More worth than all that world,
The loss of such a friend!—Where the fight burn'd,
And where, from every quarter, death assail'd me;
He rush'd between, and cast his faithful breast,
Upon the spears that levell'd at our corselet:
With blood, and sweat, and dust, his face was covered.
But, when the tide of battle bore him from me,
I sent to seek him thro' the thickest fight,
By the white foam of his exalted plume,
That floated o'er the field!—

Cleo.
A province to the man who finds him for us,
That we may set him, as our chiefest gem,
In the world's crownet.

Ant.
'Tis the proper sphere,
For such a virtue!—Go, my Queen of kingdoms!
A soldier's occupation asks refreshment.
Order our banquet!

[Exeunt Cleopatra and Attendants.
Sold.
We have brought him, my lord,
[Soldiers speak without.
We have brought him!

Ant.
O, the brave fellow!—Give him to my arms!
Had he escaped the value of his deeds,
I had died worthless!

Enobarbus brought in.
Ant.
Strike me, Jove's bolt!—Domitius Enobarbus!—
O, thou hast cut me to the heart, Domitius!
Thou hast ta'en the surest, sharpest way, for vengeance;
And set the faults of Antony before him,
Keener than all the arms that range with Cæsar!

Enob.
Pardon, pardon!

[Bends on one knee.
Ant.
Is it thou that asks it?—O the wealth of souls!
Heart to my heart—
[Raises and embraces him.
Never be more distinction, 'twixt thy Antony
And Enobarbus—Gods!—the world is theirs,
And his the worthier half!

Enob.
I would I had rather died for you in the battle!
For you are purposed to slay me, my master—
To kill me, with your goodness!

Eros enters.
Eros.
My lord, my lord,
Cæsar's whole fleet comes bellying on amain,
And means, no doubt, to charge us in the bay.

Ant.
They shall be welcome, Eros.
We will, ourself, aboard, and gage this time,
No coward hand shall turn a prow to Egypt.

Scarus enters.
Scarus.
My lord, I bring you unexpected tidings.
The beaten Cæsar hath ta'en heart anew,
Hath cast his circling fosses to the earth,
And, with fresh powers, unnumber'd as the sands,
Comes down upon the city.

Ant.
Divide me, gods!—that he may have an Antony,
By sea and land, to cope with!—
What, has the boy such mettle?—We, once more,
Will shew him to his tent!—
Domitius Enobarbus!

Enob.
Sir!

Ant.
Muster our brave companions, good Domitius.
Tell them—
'Tis but returning to a half-eat banquet;
We have stomach for it yet!

Enob.
I will, my heart o'the world!

[Exit Enobarbus.
Soothsayer crossing the Stage.
Ant.
Soothsayer!

Sooth.
My lord.

Ant.
Well, Soothsayer, thou dost see that we can conquer,
In spite of Augury.

Sooth.
'Tis true, great emperor!
O, such another day, the world, to nothing,
Again were Antony's—But, noblest master,
Make you quick profit of your present vantage.
Swallows have built in Cleopatra's sails:
The moody Augurs shake the downward brow,
But dare not speak their forethought.

Ant.
O, we ask not Augury,
But courage for our counsel!—Hark apart—
If that thou canst unfold the growth of time,
That now lies in the seed, inform, I pray thee,
What lot do we draw hereafter?

Sooth.
Thou shalt imitate
The act of that same enemy, on whose corse
Thy kindly tears did fall.

Ant.
Whom?

Sooth.
Brutus.

Ant.
What, stab Cæsar?

Sooth.
I cannot say—the dæmon comes upon me,
Like lightning in the night—a sudden flash—
And all again is darkness!