King Malchus of Arabia; king of Pont ;
Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, king
Of Comagene; Polemon and Amintas,
The kings of Mede, and Lycaonia, with a
More larger lift of fcepters.

OCTA. Ah me, most wretched,

That have my heart parted betwixt two friends,
That do afflict each other!

CAS. Welcome hither:

Your letters did withhold our breaking forth;
Till we perceiv'd, both how you were wrong led,
And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart:
Be
you not troubled with the time, which drives
O'er your content thefe ftrong neceffities;
But let determin'd things to deftiny

Hold unbewail'd their way.

Welcome to Rome :

Nothing more dear to me.

You are abus'd

Beyond the mark of thought: and the high gods,
To do you justice, make them minifters

Of us, and thofe that love you.

And ever welcome to us.

AGR. Welcome, lady.

MEC. Welcome, dear madam.

Beft of comfort;

Each heart in Rome does love and pity you:

Only the adulterous Antony, most large

In his abominations, turns you off;

And gives his potent regiment to a trull,
That noifes it against us.

OCTA. Is it fo, fir?

CES. Moft certain. Sifter, welcome: Fray you,

Be ever known to patience: My dearest fifter! [Exeunt.

SCENEVII. ANTONY's Camp, near the Promontory of Actium.

Enter CLEOPATRA and ENOBARBUS.

CLEO. I will be even with thee, doubt it not.
ENO. But why, why, why?

CLEO. Thou haft forfpoke my being in these wars; And fay'ft, it is not fit.

ENO. Well, is it, is it?

CLEO. Is't not? Denounce against us, why should not we Be there in person ?

ENO. [Afide.] Well, I could reply :

If we should serve with horse and mares together,
The horse were merely loft; the mares would bear
A foldier, and his horfe.

CLEO. What is't you fay?

ENO. Your prefence needs muft puzzle Antony; Take from his heart, take from his brain, from his time, What should not then be spar'd. He is already Traduc'd for levity; and 'tis faid in Rome, That Photinus an eunuch, and your maids, Manage this war.

CLEO. Sink Rome; and their tongues rot,

That fpeak against us! A charge we bear i' the war,
And, as the prefident of my kingdom, will

Appear there for a man. Speak not against it;
I will not stay behind.

ENO. Nay, I have done :

Here comes the emperor.

Enter ANTONY and CANIDIUS.

ANT. Is't not ftrange, Canidius,

That from Tarentum, and Brundufium,

He could fo quickly cut the Ionian sea,

And take in Toryne ?--You have heard on't, sweet? CLEO. Celerity is never more admir'd,

Than by the negligent.

ANT. A good rebuke,

Which might have well becom❜d the best of men,

To taunt at flacknefs.-Canidius, we

Will fight with him by fea.

CLEO. By fea! What else?

CAN. Why will my lord do fo?

ANT. For he dares us to't.

ENO. So hath my lord dar'd him to fingle fight.
CAN. Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharfalia,
Where Cæfar fought with Pompey: But these offers,
Which serve not for his 'vantage, he shakes off;
And fo fhould you.

ENO. Your fhips are not well mann'd :
Your mariners are muleteers, reapers, people
Ingrofs'd by swift imprefs; in Cæfar's fleet
Are those, that often have 'gainst Pompey fought :
Their fhips are yare; yours, heavy. No disgrace
Shall fall you for refufing him at sea,

Being prepar'd for land.

ANT. By fea, by fea.

ENO. Moft worthy fir, you therein throw away
The abfolute foldiership you have by land;
Distract your army, which doth most consist
Of war-mark'd footmen; leave unexecuted
Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego
The way which promises affurance; and
Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard,
From firm fecurity.

ANT. I'll fight at fea.

CLEO. I have fixty fails, Cæfar none better.

ANT. Our overplus of shipping will we burn;

And, with the reft full-mann'd, from the head of Actium Beat the approaching Cæfar. But if we fail,

Enter a MESSENGER.

We then can do't at land.-Thy business?

MES. The news is true, my lord; he is defcried; Cæfar has taken Toryne.

ANT. Can he be there in perfon? 'tis impoffible;
Strange, that his power fhould be.-Canidius,
Our nineteen legions thou fhalt hold by land,
And our twelve thoufand horfe :We'll to our fhip;
Enter a SOLDIER.

Away, my Thetis !-How now, worthy foldier?
SOLD. O noble emperor, do not fight by fea;
Trust not to rotten planks: Do you mifdoubt
This fword, and thefe my wounds? Let the Egyptians,
And the Phoenicians, go a ducking; we

Have us'd to conquer, ftanding on the earth,
And fighting foot to foot.

ANT. Well, well, away.

[Exeunt ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, and ENOBARBUS. SOLD. By Hercules, I think, I am i' the right. CAN. Soldier, thou art but his whole action grows Not in the power on't: So our leader's led, And we are women's men,

SOLD. You keep by land

The legions and the horfe whole, do you not?
GAN. Marcus Octavius, Marcus Jufteius,

Publicola, and Cælius, are for fea :

But we keep whole by land. This speed of Cæfar's Carries beyond belief.

His

SOLD. While he was yet in Rome,

power went out in fuch diftractions, as,

Beguil'd all spies.

CAN. Who's his lieutenant, hear you?
SOLD. They fay, one Taurus,

CAN. Well I know the man.

Enter a MESSENGER.

MES. The emperor calls for Canidius.

[forth,

CAN. With news the time's with labour; and throes

Each minute, fome.

SCENE VIII. A Plain near Actium.

[Exeunt.

Enter CESAR, TAURUS, Officers, and Others. CES. Taurus,

TAUR. My lord.

CAS. Strike not by land; keep whole:
Provoke not battle, till we have done at fea.

Do not exceed the prescript of this scroll :
Our fortune lies upon this jump.

In

Enter ANTONY and ENOBARBUS.

[Exeunt.

ANT. Set we our fquadrons on yon' fide o' the hill, eye of Cæfar's battle; from which place may the number of the fhips behold, And fo proceed accordingly.

We

[Exeunt. Enter CANIDIUS, marching with his land army one way over the flage; and TAURUS, the lieutenant of Cæfar, the other way. After their going in, is heard the noife of a fea-fight. Alarum. Re-enter ENOBARBUS.

ENO. Naught, naught, all naught! I can behold no The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral, [longer:

With all their fixty, fly, and turn the rudder;

To fee't, mine eyes are blafted.

Enter SCARUS.,

SCAR. Gods, and goddeffes,

All the whole fynod of them!
ENO. What's thy paffion?

SCAR. The greater cantle of the world is loft

With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away