Alexandria. CÆSAR'S Camp. |
| |
Enter CÆSAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECÆNAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and Others. |
| Cæs. Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield; |
| Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks |
| The pauses that he makes. |
| Dol. Cæsar, I shall. [Exit. |
| |
Enter DERCETAS, with the sword of ANTONY. |
| Cæs. Wherefore is that? and what art thou that dar'st |
| Appear thus to us? |
| Der. I am call'd Dercetas; |
| Mark Antony I serv'd, who best was worthy |
| Best to be serv'd; whilst he stood up and spoke |
| He was my master, and I wore my life |
| To spend upon his haters. If thou please |
| To take me to thee, as I was to him |
| I'll be to Cæsar; if thou pleasest not, |
| I yield thee up my life. |
| Cœs/ What is 't thou sayst? |
| Der. I say, O Cæsar, Antony is dead. |
| Cœs. The breaking of so great a thing should make |
| A greater crack; the round world |
| Should have shook lions into civil streets, |
| And citizens to their dens. The death of Antony |
| Is not a single doom; in the name lay |
| A moiety of the world. |
| Der. He is dead, Cæsar; |
| Not by a public minister of justice, |
| Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand, |
| Which writ his honour in the acts it did, |
| Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it, |
| Splitted the heart. This is his sword; |
| I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd |
| With his most noble blood. |
| Cœs/ Look you sad, friends? |
| The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings |
| To wash the eyes of kings. |
| Agr. And strange it is, |
| That nature must compel us to lament |
| Our most persisted deeds. |
| Mec. His taints and honours |
| Wag'd equal with him. |
| Agr. A rarer spirit never |
| Did steer humanity; but you, gods, will give us |
| Some faults to make us men. Cæsar is touch'd. |
| Mec. When such a spacious mirror's set before him, |
| He needs must see himself. |
| Cœs/ O Antony! |
| I have follow'd thee to this; but we do lance |
| Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce |
| Have shown to thee such a declining day, |
| Or look on thine; we could not stall together |
| In the whole world. But yet let me lament, |
| With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts, |
| That thou, my brother, my competitor |
| In top of all design, my mate in empire, |
| Friend and companion in the front of war, |
| The arm of mine own body, and the heart |
| Where mine his thoughts did kindle, that our stars, |
| Unreconciliable, should divide |
| Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends,— |
| |
Enter an Egyptian. |
| But I will tell you at some meeter season: |
| The business of this man looks out of him; |
| We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you? |
| Egyp. A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress, |
| Confin'd in all she has, her monument, |
| Of thy intents desires instruction, |
| That she preparedly may frame herself |
| To the way she's forc'd to. |
| Cœs/ Bid her have good heart; |
| She soon shall know of us, by some of ours, |
| How honourable and how kindly we |
| Determine for her; for Cæsar cannot live |
| To be ungentle. |
| Egyp. So the gods preserve thee! [Exit. |
| Cœs. Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say, |
| We purpose her no shame; give her what comforts |
| The quality of her passion shall require, |
| Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke |
| She do defeat us; for her life in Rome |
| Would be eternal in our triumph. Go, |
| And with your speediest bring us what she says, |
| And how you find of her. |
| Pro. Cæsar, I shall. [Exit. |
| Cæs. Gallus, go you along. [Exit GALLUS. |
| Where's Dolabella, |
| To second Proculeius? |
| Agr. & Mec. Dolabella! |
| Cæs. Let him alone, for I remember now |
| How he's employ'd; he shall in time be ready. |
| Go with me to my tent; where you shall see |
| How hardly I was drawn into this war; |
| How calm and gentle I proceeded still |
| In all my writings. Go with me, and see |
| What I can show in this. [Exeunt. |
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