1    Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck; and now
2    Pleased fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death
3    Make me revenger. Bear the king's son's body
4    Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes,
5    Pays this for Marcus Crassus.

6    Noble Ventidius,
7    Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm,
8    The fugitive Parthians follow; spur through Media,
9    Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither
10   The routed fly: so thy grand captain Antony
11   Shall set thee on triumphant chariots and
12   Put garlands on thy head.

13   O Silius, Silius,
14   I have done enough; a lower place, note well,
15   May make too great an act: for learn this, Silius;
16   Better to leave undone, than by our deed
17   Acquire too high a fame when him we serve's away.
18   Caesar and Antony have ever won
19   More in their officer than person: Sossius,
20   One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant,
21   For quick accumulation of renown,
22   Which he achieved by the minute, lost his favour.
23   Who does i' the wars more than his captain can
24   Becomes his captain's captain: and ambition,
25   The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss,
26   Than gain which darkens him.
27   I could do more to do Antonius good,
28   But 'twould offend him; and in his offence
29   Should my performance perish.

30   Thou hast, Ventidius,
31   that
32   Without the which a soldier, and his sword,
33   Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony!

34   I'll humbly signify what in his name,
35   That magical word of war, we have effected;
36   How, with his banners and his well-paid ranks,
37   The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia
38   We have jaded out o' the field.

39   Where is he now?

40   He purposeth to Athens: whither, with what haste
41   The weight we must convey with's will permit,
42   We shall appear before him. On there; pass along!