University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Enter Enobarbus, who stands distant.
Ant.
Ay, who knows?—
That's somewhat, yet—All is not lost by land.
There's firm Canidius, and our legions.—
O Enobarbus!
Had I ta'en thy counsel,
Cæsar had been the mourner.—Where's Canidius?

Enob.
No matter—ask not for him.

Ant.
Ask not for him?

Enob.
My dear, dear master, rear your soul aloft!
Be all yourself, all hero, as you are wont,
When mightiest pressures come—for they do fall
Heavy and thick upon you!

Ant.
I say, where is Canidius?

Enob.
Gone out of call—
At least, the call of Antony—
To Cæsar gone;—he, and your nineteen legions.

Ant.
Spirit of truth!—Canidius?—my friend?
The man these hands have moulded into greatness?
Oh—
Who leave themselves, ought to be left of others.
My conduct has corrupted honest men—
My nineteen veteran legions too?

Enob.
Your nineteen legions.

Ant.
There's the main limb lopt off!

Enob.
I have a pinnace, ready mann'd and moor'd
Beneath the sea-worn beach—Escape and join
Your conquering troops in Parthia!

Ant.
Escape, escape!—shall Antony escape?

Enob.
Not from the arms of Rome, my emperor!
But from the gulph of Egypt—O, escape,
Escape, in haste!

Ant.
Although she hath undone us, it were base,
'Twere base to leave her to the vengeful fangs
Of Cæsar and Octavia.

Enob.
O, my master,
It is not Cleopatra that's in danger—
Beware your proper safety!

Ant.
What dost mean?

Enob.
Think of the terms she may obtain from Cæsar,
Even at a price, no other than the head
Of him, whose world she lost.

Ant.
O, fie, fie!—think not of it.

Enob.
Have you seen the ambassador?

Ant.
Ambassador?

Enob.
Ay.

Ant.
Whose ambassador?

Enob.
Cæsar's.

Ant.
No—when?

Enob.
Now, now—Nay, wonder not;
'Twas not to Antony that Cæsar sent him.
I mark'd him, in his way to the Queen—a smooth
And subtle politician, one Thyræus.—
I watch'd, and heard him crave a secret audience
From Cleopatra.

Ant.
Ha!—

Enob.
This intimation, as a further proof
Of dangerous, tho' dark intent, was sent me
From Cæsar's camp.

[Gives a paper.
Ant.
There is a colour in it.
If that she does but veer
A second from the point!

Enob.
Poor woman!—can you blame her?—She has now,
No other sail to shift.

Ant.
No other?—

Enob.
No.—She cannot chuse.

Ant.
She shall be tested!—Come!

[Exeunt.