Ride on the pants triumphing.

Cleo. Lord of Lords!

Oh, infinite virtue! com'ft thou fmiling from
The world's great fnare uncaught?

Ant. My nightingale !

[gray.

We've beat them to their beds. What! Girl, though Do fomething mingle with our younger brown, yet

ha'we

A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can

Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man,
Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand:
Kifs it, my warrior; he hath fought to-day,
As if a God in hate of mankind had
Deftroyed in fuch a fhape.

Cleo. I'll give thee, friend,

An armour all of gold; it was a King's.
Ant. He has deferv'd it, were it carbuncled
Like holy Phabus' Car.Give me thy hand;
Through Alexandria make a jolly march;

Bear our hackt targets like the men that owe them.
Had our great palace the capacity

To camp this hoft, we would all fup together;
And drink caroufes to the next day's fate,
Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters,
With brazen din blaft you the city's ear,
Make mingle with our ratling tabourines,

That heav'n and earth may ftrike their founds to

gether,

Applauding our approach.

SCENE

[Exeunt.

VII.

Changes to Cæfar's Camp.

Enter a Centry, and his Company. Enobarbus follows. F we be not reliev'd within this hour,

Cent.

I

We must return to th' Court of Guard; the night

Is fhiny, and, they fay, we fhall embattle

By

By th' fecond hour i'th' morn.

I Watch. This laft day was a fhrewd one to's.
Eno. O bear me witnefs, night!

2 Watch. What man is this?

1 Watch. Stand clofe, and lift him.

Eno. Be witnefs to me, O thou blessed moon,
When men revolted fhall upon record

Bear hateful memory; poor Enobarbus did
Before thy face repent.

Cent. Enobarbus ?

3 Watch. Peace; hark further.

Eno. Oh fovereign Miftrefs of true melancholy, The poisonous damp of night difpunge upon me, That life, a very rebel to my will,

May hang no longer on me.

Throw my heart

Against the flint and hardnefs of my fault,

Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder,
And finish all foul thoughts. Oh Antony,
Nobler than my revolt is infamous,

Forgive me in thine own particular;
But let the world rank me in register
A mafter-leaver, and a fugitive:
Oh Antony! oh Antony!

1 Watch. Let's speak to him.

Cent. Let's hear him, for the things he speaks

May concern Cæfar.

2 Watch. Let's do fó, but he fleeps.

[Dies.

Cent. Swoons rather, for fo bad a prayer as his Was never yet for fleep.

I Watch. Go we to him.

2 Watch. Awake, Sir, awake, speak to us. 1 Watch. Hear you, Sir?

Cent. The hand of death has raught him.

[Drums afar off. Hark, how the drums demurely wake the fleepers : Let's bear him to the Court of Guard; he is of note. Our hour is fully out.

2 Watch. Come on then, he may recover yet.

Exeunt.

Ant.

Between the two Camps.

Enter Antony, and Scarus, with their Army.

TH

HEIR preparation is to-day by fea,
We please them not by land.

Scar. For both, my Lord.

Ant. I would, they'd fight i' th' fire, or in the air, We'd fight there too. But this it is; our foot Upon the hills adjoining to the City

Shall ftay with us.

Order for fea is given ;

They have put forth the haven: further on,
Where their appointment we may beft difcover,
And look on their endeavour.

Enter Cæfar, and his Army.

[Exeunt.

Caf. But being charg'd, we will be ftill by land, Which, as I take't, we fhall; for his best force Is forth to man his Gallies. To the vales,

And hold our beft advantage.

Exeunt.

[Alarm afar off, as at a fea-fight.

Enter Antony and Scarus.

Ant. Yet they are not join'd:

Where yond pine ftands, I fhall discover all,
I'll bring thee word ftraight, how 'tis like to go. [Exit.
Scar. Swallows have built

In Cleopatra's fails their nefts. The Augurs

Say, they know not-they cannot tell-look grimly,
And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony
Is valiant, and dejected; and by ftarts,
His fretted fortunes give him hope and fear
Of what he has, and has not.

[Exit.

SCENE

Changes to the Palace in Alexandria.
Enter Antony.

Ant. A My fleet hath yielded to the foe, and yonder
LL's loft! this foul Egyptian hath betray'd me!

They caft their caps up, and caroufe together
Like friends long loft. Triple-turn'd whore! 'tis thou
Haft fold me to this Novice, and my heart
Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly,
For when I am reveng'd upon my Charm,
I have done all.
Bid them all fly, be gone,

Oh, Sun, thy uprise fhall I see no more:
Fortune and Antony part here, even here

Do we shake hands-all come to this! * the hearts,
That pantler'd me at heels, to whom I
gave,
Their wishes, do difcandy, melt their fweets
On bloffoming Cafar: and this pine is bark'd,
That over-topt them all. Betray'd I am.
Oh, this falfe foul of Egypt! this gay Charm,
Whofe eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home,
Whose bofom was my Crownet, my chief end,
Like a right Gipfy, hath at faft and loofe
Beguil'd me to the very heart of loss.
What Eros Eros!

Enter Cleopatra.

Ah! thou fpell! avant

Cleo. Why is my Lord enrag'd against his Love? Ant. Vanish, or I fhall give thee thy deferving, And blemish Cafar's Triumph. Let him take thee,

-The hearts

That Pannell'd me at heels, &c.] Thus the old Editions. But Shakespear muft certainly have wrote;

That Pantler'd me at heels;

i. e. run after me like Footmen, or Pantlers; which word originally fignified the Servants who have the care of the Bread, but is used by our Poet for a menial Servant in general, as well as in its native Acceptation.

Warb.

Ant.

And hoift thee up to the fhouting Plebeians;
Follow his chariot, like the greateft fpot
Of all thy fex. Moft monfter-like, be fhewn
For poor'ft diminutives, for doits; and let
Patient Octavia plough thy vifage up
With her prepared nails.

'Tis well, thou'rt gone;
[Exit Cleopatra.

If it be well to live. But better 'twere,
Thou fell'ft into my fury; for one death
Might have prevented many. Eros, hoa!
The fhirt of Neffus is upon me; teach me,
Alcides, thou mine ancestor; thy rage

Led thee lodge Lichas on the horns o' th' Moon,
And with thofe hands that grasp the heaviest club,
Subdue thy worthieft felf. The Witch fhall die;
To the young Roman boy fhe hath fold me, and I fall
Under his plot: fhe dies for't. Eros, hoa!

[Exit. Re-enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardian. Cleo. Help me, my women! oh, he is more mad Than Telamon for his fhield; the boar of Theffaly Was never so imboft.

Char. To th' Monument,

There lock yourself, and send him word you're dead: The foul and body rive not more in parting,

Than Greatness going off.

Cleo. To th' Monument :

Mardian, go tell him I have flain myself;
Say, that the laft I fpoke was Antony;

And word it, pr'ythee, piteously. Hence, Mardian, And bring me how he takes my death. To th' [Exeunt.

Monument.

Re-enter Antony, and Eros.

Ant. EROS, thou yet behold'ft me.
Eros. Ay, noble Lord.

Ant