A Plain in Syria. |
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Enter VENTIDIUS, 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. |
Ven. 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. |
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 |
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 's will permit, |
We shall appear before him. On, there; pass along. [Exeunt. |
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