Naught, naught, all naught!
Naught, naught, all naught! I can behold no longer.
Th’ Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral,
With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder.Hysteron-Proteron
To see ’t mine eyes are blasted.
Gods and goddesses,
All the whole synod of them!
What’s thy passion?
The greater cantle of the world is lost
With very ignorance. We have kissed away
Kingdoms and provinces.
How appears the fight?
On our side, like the tokened pestilence,Simile
Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt,
Whom leprosy o’ertake, i’ th’ midst o’ th’ fight,
When vantage like a pair of twins appearedPersonification
Both as the same—or, rather, ours the elder—
The breeze upon her like a cow in June,
Hoists sails and flies.
That I beheld.
Mine eyes did sicken at the sight and could not
Endure a further view.Synecdoche
She once being loofed,
The noble ruin of her magic, Antony,
Claps on his sea-wing and, like a doting mallard,
Leaving the fight in height, flies after her.
I never saw an action of such shame.
Experience, manhood, honor ne’er before
Did violate so itself.