Imatges de pÓgina

Cleo. Good my lord,

Ant. You have been a boggler ever :But when we in our viciousness grow hard,

(O misery on't!) the wise gods seel our eyes; In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us Adore our errors; laugh at us, while we strut

To our confusion.

Cleo. O, is it come to this?

Ant. I found you as a morsel, cold upon

Dead Cæsar's trencher: nay, you were a fragment Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours, Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have

Luxuriously pick'd out :—For, I am sure,

Though you can guess what temperance should be,
You know not what it is.

Cleo. Wherefore is this?

Ant. To let a fellow that will take rewards,
And say, God quit you! be familiar with
My play fellow, your hand; this kingly seal,
And plighter of high hearts -O, that I were
Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar

The horned herd !7 for I have savage cause;
And to proclaim it civilly, were like

A halter'd neck, which does the hangman thank
For being yare about him.-Is he whipp'd?

Re-enter Attendants, with THYREUs.

1 Att. Soundly, my lord.

Ant. Cry'd he? and begg'd he pardon?

1 Att. He did ask favour.

Ant. If that thy father live, let him repent

Thou wast not made his daughter: and be thou sorry

To follow Cæsar in his triumph, since

Thou hast been whipp'd for following him : henceforth,
The white hand of a lady fever thee,

Shake thou to look on't.-Get thee back to Cæsar,
Tell him thy entertainment: Look, thou say,
He makes me angry with him: for he seems
Proud and disdainful; harping on what I am;
Not what he knew I was: he makes me angry;
And at this time most easy 'tis to do't;

[7] It is not without pity and indignation that the reader of this great poet meets so often with this low jest, which is too much a favourite to be left out of either mirth or fury. JOHNS.-The idea of the horned herd was caught from Psalm xxii. 12: "Many oxen are come about me: fat bulls of Basan close me in on every side." STEEV.



When my good stars, that were my former guides,
Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires
Into the abism of hell. If he mislike

My speech, and what is done; tell him, he has
Hipparchus, my enfranchis'd bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he shall like, to quit me : Urge it thou:
Hence, with thy stripes, begone.

Cleo. Have you done yet?

Ant. Alack, our terrene moon

Is now eclips'd; and it portends alone
The fall of Antony !

Cleo. I must stay his time.


Ant. To flatter Cæsar, would you mingle eyes With one that ties his points?

Cleo. Not know me yet?

Ant. Cold-hearted toward me?

Cleo. Ah, dear, if I be so,

From my cold heart let heaven engender hail,
And poison it in the source; and the first stone
Drop in my neck: as it determines, 9 SO
Dissolve my life! The next Cæsarion smite!'
Till, by degrees, the memory of my womb,
Together with my brave Egyptians all,
By the discandying of this pelleted storm,
Lie graveless; till the flies and gnats of Nile
Have buried them for prey!

Ant. I am satisfied:

Cæsar sits down in Alexandria; where
I will oppose his fate. Our force by land
Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too

Have knit again, and fleet,2 threat'ning most sea-like.
Where hast thou been, my heart?-Dost thou hear, lady?
If from the field I shall return once more
To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood;

I and my sword will earn our chronicle ;
There is hope in't yet.

Cleo. That's my brave lord!

Ant. I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breath'd,

And fight maliciously for when mine hours

[8] To repay me this insult; to requite me. JOHNS. [9] Determines, that is, dissolves. M. MASON.

[1] Cesarion was son to Cleopatra by Julius Cesar.

23 Fleet is the old word for float. TYRWHITT.


Were nice and lucky, men did ransome lives
Of me for jests; but now, I'll set my teeth,
And send to darkness all that stop me.-Come,
Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me
All my sad captains, fill our bowls; once more
Let's mock the midnight bell.

Cleo. It is my birth-day:


I had thought, to have held it poor; but, since my lord Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.

Ant. We'll yet do well.

Cleo. Call all his noble captains to my lord.

Ant. Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force The wine peep through their scars.-Come on, my queen; There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight,

I'll make death love me; for I will contend

Even with his pestilent scythe.

[Exeunt ANT. CLEO. and Attend.

Eno. Now he'll out-stare the lightning. To be furious, Is, to be frighted out of fear; and in that mood, The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still,

A diminution in our captain's brain

Restores his heart. When valour preys on reason,
It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek
Some way to leave him.



SCENE I.-CESAR's Camp at Alexandria.

Enter CESAR,

reading a letter; AGRIPPA, MECENAS, and others.

Cas. HE calls me boy; and chides, as he had power To beat me out of Egypt: my messenger

He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal combat, Cæsar to Antony: Let the old ruffian know,

I have many other ways to die; mean time,

[3] Nice-seems to be, just fit for my purpose, agreeable to my wish. So we vulgarly say of any thing that is done better than was expected, it is nice. JOHNS,

[4] This is still an epithet bestowed on feast days in the colleges of either university. STEEV.-Gawdy, or Grand Days in the Inns of court, are four in the year, Ascension day, Midsummer day, All-saints day, and Candlemas day. REED.

Laugh at his challenge."

Mec. Cæsar must think,

When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted
Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now
Make boot of his distraction :7 Never anger
Made good guard for itself.

Ces. Let our best heads

Know, that to-morrow the last of many battles
We mean to fight :-Within our files there are.
Of those that serv'd Mark Antony but late,
Enough to fetch him in. See it be done ;
And feast the army: we have store to do't,
And they have earn'd the waste. Poor Antony!



Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and others.

Ant. He will not fight with me, Domitius.

Eno. No.

Ant. Why should he not?

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

Ant. 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?
Eno. I'll strike; and cry, Take all.8

Ant. Well said; come on.

Call forth my household servants; let's to-night,

[5] What a reply is this to Antony's challenge? 'tis acknowledged that he should die under the unequal combat; but if we read

He hath many other ways to die: mean time,

I laugh at his challenge.

In this reading we have poignancy, and the very repartee of Cæsar. Let's hear Plutarch. After this, Antony sent a challenge to Cesar, to fight him hand to hand, and received for answer, that he might find several other ways to end his life. UPTON. Most indisputably this is the sense of Plutarch, and given so in the modern translations; but Shakspeare was misled by the ambiguity of the old one. FARMER.

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[8] Let the survivor take all. No composition, victory or death. JOHN,

Enter Servants.

Be bounteous at our meal.-Give me thy hand,

Thou hast been rightly honest ;-so hast thou ;-
And thou ;-and thou,-and thou:-you have serv'd
me well,

And kings have been your fellows.
Cleo. What means this?

Eno. [Aside.] 'Tis one of those odd tricks, which. sorrow shoots

Out of the mind.

Ant. 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.

Serv. The gods forbid!

Ant. 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.

Cleo. What does he mean?

Eno. To make his followers weep..

Ant. 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!

Eno. What mean you, sir,
To give them this discomfort?
And I, an ass, am onion-ey'd
Transform us not to women.
Ant. Ho, ho, ho !2

Look, they weep;
for shame,

[1] I have my eyes as full of tears as if they had been fretted by onions.


[2] That is, stop or desist. So, in Chaucer, The Knightes Tale, v. 1706,edit. 1775

This duk his courser with his sporres smote,
And at a stert he was betwix hem two,

And pulled out a swerd, and cried, ho!
No more, up peine of lesing of your hed."

And in Myrrour of good Manners, Ambition is compared to

"The sacke insatiable,

The sacke without bottome, which never can say ho."


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