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Are in thy vessel. Let me cut the cable; |
And when we are put off, fall to their throats. |
All there is thine. |
POMPEY. Ah, this thou shouldst have done, |
And not have spoke on't. In me 'tis villainy: |
In thee't had been good service. Thou must know |
'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour: |
Mine honour, it. Repent that e'er thy tongue |
Hath so betray'd thine act. Being done unknown, |
I should have found it afterwards well done, |
But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink. |
MENAS. [Aside] For this, |
I'll never follow thy pall'd fortunes more. |
Who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis offer'd, |
Shall never find it more. |
POMPEY. This health to Lepidus! |
ANTONY. Bear him ashore. I'll pledge it for him, Pompey. |
ENOBARBUS. Here's to thee, Menas! |
MENAS. Enobarbus, welcome! |
POMPEY. Fill till the cup be hid. |
ENOBARBUS. There's a strong fellow, Menas. |
[Pointing to the servant who carries off LEPIDUS] |
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's 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' th' 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] |
THE 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 all but ENOBARBUS and MENAS |
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! |
[Sound a flourish, with drums] |
ENOBARBUS. Hoo! says 'a. There's my cap. |
MENAS. Hoo! Noble Captain, come. Exeunt |
ACT_3|SC_1 |
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 |
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 |
Subsets and Splits
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