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
Pleased 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 achieved 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,
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.
SILIUS
Where is he now?
VENTIDIUS
He purposeth to Athens: whither, with what haste
The weight we must convey with's will permit,
We shall appear before him. On there; pass along!
Exeunt
SCENE II. Rome. An ante-chamber in OCTAVIUS CAESAR's
house
Enter AGRIPPA at one door, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS at another
AGRIPPA
What, are the brothers parted?
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
They have dispatch'd with Pompey, he is gone;
The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps
To part from Rome; Caesar is sad; and Lepidus,
Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled
With the green sickness.
AGRIPPA
'Tis a noble Lepidus.
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
A very fine one: O, how he loves Caesar!
AGRIPPA
Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony!
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
Caesar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men.
AGRIPPA
What's Antony? The god of Jupiter.
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
Spake you of Caesar? How! the non-pareil!
AGRIPPA
O Antony! O thou Arabian bird!
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
Would you praise Caesar, say 'Caesar:' go no further.
AGRIPPA
Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises.
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
But he loves Caesar 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 Caesar,
Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder.
AGRIPPA
Both he loves.
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
They are his shards, and he their beetle.
Trumpets within
So;
This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa.
AGRIPPA
Good fortune, worthy soldier; and farewell.
Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA
MARK ANTONY
No further, sir.
OCTAVIUS CAESAR
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.
MARK ANTONY
Make me not offended
In your distrust.
OCTAVIUS CAESAR
I have said.
MARK ANTONY
You shall not find,
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.
OCTAVIUS CAESAR
Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well:
The elements be kind to thee, and make
Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well.
OCTAVIA
My noble brother!
MARK ANTONY
The April's in her eyes: it is love's spring,
And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful.
OCTAVIA
Sir, look well to my husband's house; and--
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