The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.

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Here you can read a digital edition of each play in various views.

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Reference: yy2r - Tragedies, p. 355

Left Column

Anthony and Cleopatra. Cleo.
I haue sixty Sailes, Cæsar none better.
Ant. Our ouer‑plus of shipping will we burne, of Action Beate th'approaching Cæsar. But if we faile, We then can doo't at Land. Enter a Messenger. Thy Businesse? Mes.
The Newes is true, my Lord, he is descried, Cæsar ha's taken Toryne.
Ant. Can he be there in person? 'Tis impossible Strange, that his power should be. Camidius, Our nineteene Legions thou shalt hold by Land,
And our twelue thousand Horse. Wee'l to our Ship, Away my Thetis. Enter a Soldiour. How now worthy Souldier?
Soul. Oh Noble Emperor, do not fight by Sea, Trust not to rotten plankes: Do you misdoubt
This Sword, and these my Wounds; let th'Egyptians And the Phœnicians go a ducking: wee Haue vs'd to conquer standing on the earth, And fighting foot to foot.
Ant. Well, well, away. exit Ant. Cleo. & Enob. Soul.
By Hercules I thinke I am i'th'right.
Cam. Souldier thou art: but his whole action growes Not in the power on't: so our Leaders leade, And we are Womens men. Soul.

You keepe by Land the Legions and the Horse


whole, do you not?

Ven. This speech is conventionally attributed to Camidius. Marcus Octauius, Marcus Iusteus, Publicola, and Celius, are for Sea: But we keepe whole by Land. This speede of Cæsars Carries beyond be efe. Soul.
While h was yet in Rome. His power went out in such distractions, As beguilde all Spies.
Cam. Who's his Lieutenant, heare you? Soul. They say, one Towrus. Cam.
Well, I know the man.
Enter a Messenger. Mes. The Emperor cals Camidius. Cam. With Newes the times wit Labour, And throwes forth each minute, some. exeunt
[Act 3, Scene 8] Enter Cæsar with his Army, marching. Cæs. Towrus? Tow.
My Lord.
Cæs Strike not by Land, Keepe whole, prouoke not Battaile Till we haue done at Sea. Do not exceede The Prescript of this Scroule: Our fortune lyes
Vpon this iumpe.
[Act 3, Scene 9] Enter Anthony, and Enobarbus. Ant. Set we our Squadrons on yond side o'th'Hill, In eye of Cæsars battaile, from which place We may the number of the Ships behold, And so proceed accordingly. exit.
[Act 3, Scene 10] Camidius Marcheth with his Land Army one way ouer the stage, and Towrus the Lieutenant of Cæsar the other way: After their going in, is heard the noise of a Sea fight. Alarum. Enter Enobarbus and Scarus. Eno.
Naught, naught, al naught, I can behold no longer: Thantoniad, the Egyptian Admirall, With all their sixty flye, and turne the Rudder:

Right Column

To see't, mine eyes are blasted. Enter Scarrus. Scar. Gods, & Goddesses, all the whol synod of them! Eno.
What's thy passion.
Scar. The greater Cantle of the world, is lost With very ignorance, we haue kist away Kingdomes, and Prouinces. Eno. How appeares the Fight? Scar.
On our side, like the Token'd Pestilence, Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred Nagge of Egypt, (Whom Leprosie o're‑take) i'th'midst o'th'fight, When vantage like a payre of Twinnes appear'd Both as the same, or rather ours the elder;
(The Breeze vpon her) like a Cow in Inne, Hoists Sailes, and flyes.
Eno. That I beheld: Mine eyes did sicken at the sight, and could not Indure a further view. Scar.
She once being looft, The Noble ruine of her Magicke, Anthony, Claps on his Sea‑wing, and (like a doting Mallard) Leauing the Fight in heighth, flyes after her: I neuer saw an Action of such shame;
Experience, Man‑hood, Honor, ne're before, Did violate so it selfe.
Enob. Alacke, alacke. Enter Camidius. Cam. Our Fortune on the Sea is out of breath, And sinkes most lamentably. Had our Generall
Bin what he knew himselfe, it had gone well: Oh his ha's giuen example for our flight, Most grossely by his owne.

I, are you thereabouts? Why then goodnight


Toward Peloponnesus are they fled.
Scar. 'Tis easie toot, And there I will attend what further comes. Camid. To Cæsar will I render My Legions and my Horse, sixe Kings alreadie
Shew me the way of yeelding.
Eno. Ile yet follow The wounded chance of Anthony, though my reason Sits in the winde against me.
[Act 3, Scene 11] Enter Anthony with Attendants. Ant. Hearke, the Land bids me tread no more vpon't,
It is asham'd to beare me. Friends, come hither, I am so lated in the world, that I Haue lost my way for euer. I haue a shippe, Laden with Gold, take that, diuide it: flye, And make your peace with Cæsar.
Fly? Not wee.
Ant. I haue fled my selfe, and haue instructed cowards To runne, and shew their shoulders. Friends be gone, I haue my selfe resolu'd vpon a course, Which has no neede of you. Be gone,
My Treasure's in the Harbour. Take it: Oh, I follow'd that I blush to looke vpon, My very haires do mutiny: for the white Reproue the browne for rashnesse, and they them For feare, and doting. Friends be gone, you shall
Haue Letters from me to some Friends, that will Sweepe your way for you. Pray you looke not sad, Nor make replyes of loathnesse, take the hint Which my dispaire proclaimes. Let them be left Which leaues it selfe, to the Sea‑side straight way;
I will possesse you of that ship and Treasure. y 2 Leaue

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[Act 3, Scene 8] Enter Cæsar with his Army, marching. Cæs. Towrus? Tow.
My Lord.
Cæs Strike not by Land, Keepe whole, prouoke not Battaile Till we haue done at Sea. Do not exceede The Prescript of this Scroule: Our fortune lyes
Vpon this iumpe.

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="8" rend="notPresent">
   <head type="supplied">[Act 3, Scene 8]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Cæsar with his Army, marching.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-ant-cae">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cæs.</speaker>
      <l rend="italic" n="1889">Towrus?</l>
   <sp who="#F-ant-tau">
      <speaker rend="italic">Tow.</speaker>
      <l n="1890">My Lord.</l>
   <sp who="#F-ant-cae">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cæs</speaker>
      <l n="1891">Strike not by Land,</l>
      <l n="1892">Keepe whole, prouoke not Battaile</l>
      <l n="1893">Till we haue done at Sea. Do not exceede</l>
      <l n="1894">The Prescript of this Scroule: Our fortune lyes</l>
      <l n="1895">Vpon this iumpe.</l>
   <stage rend="italic rightjustified" type="exit">exit.</stage>


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