Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

[Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and
others.]

ANTONY.
He will not fight with me, Domitius?

ENOBARBUS.
No.

ANTONY.
Why should he not?

ENOBARBUS.
He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,
He is twenty men to one.

ANTONY.
To-morrow, soldier,
By sea and land I'll fight; or I will live,
Or bathe my dying honour in the blood
Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well?

ENOBARBUS.
I'll strike, and cry 'Take all.'

ANTONY.
Well said; come on.--
Call forth my household servants: let's to-night
Be bounteous at our meal.--

[Enter Servants.]

Give me thy hand,
Thou has been rightly honest;--so hast thou;--
Thou,--and thou,--and thou;--you have serv'd me well,
And kings have been your fellows.

CLEOPATRA.
[Aside to ENOBARBUS.] What means this?

ENOBARBUS.
[Aside to CLEOPATRA.] 'Tis one of those odd tricks which sorrow
shoots
Out of the mind.

ANTONY.
And thou art honest too.
I wish I could be made so many men,
And all of you clapp'd up together in
An Antony, that I might do you service
So good as you have done.

SERVANT.
The gods forbid!

ANTONY.
Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night:
Scant not my cups; and make as much of me
As when mine empire was your fellow too,
And suffer'd my command.

CLEOPATRA.
[Aside to ENOBARBUS.] What does he mean?

ENOBARBUS.
[Aside to CLEOPATRA.] To make his followers weep.

ANTONY.
Tend me to-night;
May be it is the period of your duty:
Haply you shall not see me more; or if,
A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow
You'll serve another master. I look on you
As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends,
I turn you not away; but, like a master
Married to your good service, stay till death:
Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more,
And the gods yield you for't!

ENOBARBUS.
What mean you, sir,
To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep;
And I, an ass, am onion-ey'd: for shame,
Transform us not to women.

ANTONY.
Ho, ho, ho!
Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus!
Grace grow where those drops fall! My hearty friends,
You take me in too dolorous a sense;
For I spake to you for your comfort,--did desire you
To burn this night with torches: know, my hearts,
I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you
Where rather I'll expect victorious life
Than death and honour. Let's to supper; come,
And drown consideration.

[Exeunt.]