MENAS.
Why?
ENOBARBUS.
‘A bears the third part of the world, man; see’st not?
MENAS.
The third part, then, is drunk; would it were all,
That it might go on wheels!
ENOBARBUS.
Drink thou; increase the reels.
MENAS.
Come.
POMPEY.
This is not yet an Alexandrian feast.
ANTONY.
It ripens towards it.—Strike the vessels, ho!—
Here is to Caesar!
CAESAR.
I could well forbear’t.
It’s monstrous labour when I wash my brain
And it grows fouler.
ANTONY.
Be a child o’ the time.
CAESAR.
Possess it, I’ll make answer:
But I had rather fast from all four days
Than drink so much in one.
ENOBARBUS.
[To ANTONY.] Ha, my brave emperor!
Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals
And celebrate our drink?
POMPEY.
Let’s ha’t, good soldier.
ANTONY.
Come, let’s all take hands,
Till that the conquering wine hath steep’d our sense
In soft and delicate Lethe.
ENOBARBUS.
All take hands.—
Make battery to our ears with the loud music:—
The while I’ll place you: then the boy shall sing;
The holding every man shall bear as loud
As his strong sides can volley.
[Music plays. ENOBARBUS places them hand in hand.]
SONG.
Come, thou monarch of the vine,
Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne!
In thy fats our cares be drown’d,
With thy grapes our hairs be crown’d:
Cup us, till the world go round,
Cup us, till the world go round!
CAESAR.
What would you more?—Pompey, good night. Good brother,
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 Enobarb
Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue
Splits what it speaks: the wild disguise hath almost
Antick’d us all. What needs more words. Good night.—
Good Antony, your hand.
POMPEY.
I’ll try you on the shore.
ANTONY.
And shall, sir: give’s your hand.
POMPEY.
O Antony,
You have my father’s house,—but, what? we are friends.
Come, down into the boat.
ENOBARBUS.
Take heed you fall not.
[Exeunt POMPEY, CAESAR, ANTONY, and Attendants.]
Menas, I’ll not on shore.
MENAS.
No, to my cabin.—
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!
[A flourish of trumpets, with drums.]
ENOBARBUS.
Hoo! says ‘a.—There’s my cap.
MENAS.
Hoo!—noble captain, come.
[Exeunt.]
ACT III.
SCENE I. A plain in Syria.
[Enter VENTIDIUS, in triumph, with SILIUS and other Romans,
Officers and Soldiers; the dead body of PACORUS borne in front.]
VENTIDIUS.
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.
SILIUS.
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.
VENTIDIUS.
O Silius, Silius,
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 deed
Acquire too high a fame when him we serve’s away.
Caesar 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
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.
SILIUS.
Thou hast, Ventidius, that
Without the which a soldier and his sword
Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony?
VENTIDIUS.
I’ll humbly signify what in his name,