Act VScene I
Caesar’s Camp before Alexandria
Enter Caesar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Maecenas, Gallus, Proculeius with his council of war.
Caesar
Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield.Being so frustrate, tell him, he mocksThe pauses that he makes.
Dolabella
Caesar, I shall.
Exit.
Enter Dercetus with the sword of Antony.
Caesar
Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar’stAppear thus to us?
Dercetus
I am called Dercetus.Mark Antony I served, who best was worthyBest to be served. Whilst he stood up and spoke,He was my master, and I wore my lifeTo spend upon his haters. If thou pleaseTo take me to thee, as I was to himI’ll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not,I yield thee up my life.
Caesar
What is’t thou say’st?
Dercetus
I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.
Caesar
The breaking of so great a thing should makeA greater crack. The round worldShould have shook lions into civil streets,And citizens to their dens. The death of AntonyIs not a single doom; in the name layA moiety of the world.
Dercetus
He is dead, Caesar,Not by a public minister of justice,Nor by a hired knife, but that self handWhich writ his honour in the acts it didHath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,Splitted the heart. This is his sword.I robbed his wound of it. Behold it stainedWith his most noble blood.
Caesar
Look you sad, friends?The gods rebuke me, but it is tidingsTo wash the eyes of kings.
Agrippa
And strange it isThat nature must compel us to lamentOur most persisted deeds.
Maecenas
His taints and honoursWaged equal with him.
Agrippa
A rarer spirit neverDid steer humanity, but you gods will give usSome faults to make us men. Caesar is touched.
Maecenas
When such a spacious mirror’s set before him,He needs must see himself.
Caesar
O Antony,I have followed thee to this, but we do lanceDiseases in our bodies. I must perforceHave shown to thee such a declining dayOr look on thine. We could not stall togetherIn the whole world. But yet let me lamentWith tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,That thou, my brother, my competitorIn top of all design, my mate in empire,Friend and companion in the front of war,The arm of mine own body, and the heartWhere mine his thoughts did kindle, that our stars,Unreconciliable, should divideOur 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?
Egyptian
A poor Egyptian yet. The queen, my mistress,Confined in all she has, her monument,Of thy intents desires instruction,That she preparedly may frame herselfTo the way she’s forced to.
Caesar
Bid her have good heart.She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,How honourable and how kindly weDetermine for her. For Caesar cannot leanTo be ungentle.
Egyptian
So the gods preserve thee!
Exit.
Caesar
Come hither, Proculeius. Go and sayWe purpose her no shame. Give her what comfortsThe quality of her passion shall require,Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal strokeShe do defeat us, for her life in RomeWould be eternal in our triumph. Go,And with your speediest bring us what she saysAnd how you find of her.
Proculeius
Caesar, I shall.
Exit Proculeius.
Caesar
Gallus, go you along.
Exit Gallus.
Where’s Dolabella, to second Proculeius?
All
Dolabella!
Caesar
Let him alone, for I remember nowHow he’s employed. He shall in time be ready.Go with me to my tent, where you shall seeHow hardly I was drawn into this war,How calm and gentle I proceeded stillIn all my writings. Go with me and seeWhat I can show in this.
Exeunt.