Let me request you off: our graver business
Frowns at this levity.-Gentle lords, let's part;
You see, we have burnt our cheeks. Strong Enobarbe
Is weaker than the wine, and mine own tongue

Splits what it speaks2: the wild disguise hath almost
Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good

night.—

Good Antony, your hand.

Pom.

I'll try you on the shore. Ant. And shall, sir. Give's your hand. Pom.

O, Antony!

[Exeunt POMPEY, CÆSAR, ANTONY, and Attendants.

Menas, I'll not on shore.

Men.

Take heed you fall not.

No, to my cabin3.—

These drums!-these trumpets, flutes! what!—
Let Neptune hear, we bid a loud farewell

To these great fellows: sound, and be hang'd! sound

out!

Eno. Ho, says 'a!-There's my cap.
Men.

[A Flourish.

Ho!-noble captain! come. [Exeunt.

2 SPLITS what it speaks:] In the three earliest folios "splits" is spelt spleets, and we are not sure that the orthography of the word ought not to be preserved. Spleets was not the old mode of spelling "splits," and the variation might be intentional.

3 No, to my cabin, &c.] It is surprising to see with what coolness important variations from the folio, 1623, are sometimes made by modern editors, without any information as to the defects of that copy. These words, and the three lines following them, are part of the speech of Enobarbus in the folio, 1623, and there is no doubt that they belong to Menas, but it is surely fit to notice the change. It is not pointed out by Malone, (Shakspeare by Boswell, vol. xii. p. 272) whose text seems to have here been implicitly followed by later editors.

ACT III. SCENE I.

A Plain in Syria.

Enter VENTIDIUS, as it were in triumph, with SILIUS, and other Romans, Officers, and Soldiers; the dead Body of PACORUS borne before him.

Ven. Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck; and

now

Pleas'd fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death

Make me revenger.-Bear the king's son's body
Before our army.-Thy Pacorus, Orodes,

Pays this for Marcus Crassus.

Sil.

Noble Ventidius+,

Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm,
The fugitive Parthians follow: spur through Media,
Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither

The routed fly: so thy grand captain, Antony,
Shall set thee on triumphant chariots, and
Put garlands on thy head.

O Silius, Silius!

Ven.
I have done enough: a lower place, note well,
May make too great an act; for learn this, Silius,
Better to leave undone, than by our deeds acquire
Too high a fame, when him we serve's away.
Cæsar and Antony have ever won

More in their officer, than person: Sossius,
One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant,
For quick accumulation of renown,

Which he achiev'd by the minute, lost his favour.
Who does i' the wars more than his captain can,

▲ Noble VENTIDIUS,] In the prefixes of the old copies, Silius is only called Roman, and his name is not mentioned in the introductory stage-direction.

Becomes his captain's captain; and ambition,

The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss,
Than gain which darkens him.

I could do more to do Antonius good,

But 'twould offend him; and in his offence

Should my performance perish.

Sil.

Thou hast, Ventidius, that

Without the which a soldier, and his sword,

Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony?
Ven. I'll humbly signify what in his name,

That magical word of war, we have effected;
How, with his banners and his well-paid ranks,
The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia

We have jaded out o' the field.

Sil.

Where is he now?

Ven. He purposeth to Athens; whither, with what

haste

The weight we must convey with us will permit,
We shall appear before him.-On, there; pass along.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Rome. An Ante-Chamber in CÆSAR'S House.

Enter AGRIPPA, and ENOBARBUS, meeting.

Agr. What are the brothers parted?

Eno. They have despatch'd with Pompey: he is gone;

The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps

To part from Rome; Cæsar is sad; and Lepidus,
Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled
With the green sickness.

Agr.

Eno. A very fine one.

"Tis a noble Lepidus.

O, how he loves Cæsar!

Agr. Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony!
Eno. Cæsar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men.
Agr. What's Antony? The god of Jupiter.
Eno. Spake you of Cæsar? How! the nonpareil !
Agr. O Antony! O thou Arabian bird!

Eno. Would you praise Cæsar, say,-Cæsar;-go no

farther.

Agr. Indeed, he ply'd them both with excellent praises.

Eno. But he loves Cæsar best; yet he loves

Antony.

Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, poets cannot Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number, ho!

His love to Antony. But as for Cæsar,

Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder.

Agr.

Both he loves.

Eno. They are his shards, and he their beetle3. [Trumpets.

So,

This is to horse.-Adieu, noble Agrippa.

Agr. Good fortune, worthy soldier; and farewell.

Enter CESAR, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA.

Ant. No farther, sir.

Cæs. You take from me a great part of myself;
Use me well in't.-Sister, prove such a wife

As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest band
Shall pass on thy approof.-Most noble Antony,
Let not the piece of virtue, which is set
Betwixt us as the cement of our love,

To keep it builded, be the ram to batter
The fortress of it; for better might we

Have loved without this mean, if on both parts
This be not cherish'd.

They are his SHARDS, and he their BEETLE.] i.e. (says Steevens) "they are the wings that raise this heavy lumpish insect from the ground." See the explanation of "shard," in connection with "beetle," in "Macbeth," Vol. vii. p. 140, note 1.

Though you be therein curious, the least cause
For what you seem to fear. So, the gods keep you,
And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends!
We will here part.

Cæs. Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well:
The elements be kind to thee, and make
Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well.
Octa. My noble brother!—

Ant. The April's in her eyes; it is love's spring, And these the showers to bring it on.-Be cheerful. Octa. Sir, look well to my husband's house; and— Cæs. What, Octavia?

Octa. I'll tell you in your ear.

Ant. Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can Her heart inform her tongue; the swan's down feather, That stands upon the swell at the full of tide,

And neither way inclines.

Eno. Will Cæsar weep?

Agr.

[Aside to AGRIPPA.

He has a cloud in's face.

Eno. He were the worse for that, were he a horse; So is he, being a man.

Why, Enobarbus,

Agr.
When Antony found Julius Cæsar dead,

He cried almost to roaring; and he wept,
When at Philippi he found Brutus slain.

Eno. That year, indeed, he was troubled with a

rheum;

What willingly he did confound, he wail'd:

Believe 't, till I weep too.

Cæs.

No, sweet Octavia,

You shall hear from me still: the time shall not

Out-go my thinking on you.

Ant.

Come, sir, come;