NAY, but this dotage of our general's,
O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes,
That o'er the files and musters of the war
Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn,
The office and devotion of their view
Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart,
Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst
The buckles on his breast, reneges' all temper;
And is become the bellows, and the fan,

To cool a gipsy's lust. Look, where they come ! Flourish. Enter Antony and Cleopatra, with their trains; Eunuchs fanning her.

Take but good note, and you shall see in him
The triple pillar of the world transform'd
Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see.

Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much.
Ant. There's beggary in the love that can be
reckon'd.

Cleo. I'll set a bourn how far to be belov'd. Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

If the scarce-bearded Cæsar have not sent
His powerful mandate to you, Do this, or this;
Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that;
Perform't, or else we damn thee.

Ant.

How, my love!
Cleo. Perchance,-nay, and most like,
You must not stay here longer, your dismission
Is come from Cæsar; therefore, hear it, Antony.-
Where's Fulvia's process?' Cæsar's, I would say 7-
Both ?-

Call in the messengers.-As I am Egypt's queen,
Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine
Is Caesar's homager: else so thy cheek pays shame,
When shrill-tongu'd Fulvia scolds.-The messen-

To weep; whose every passion fully strives
To make itself, in thee, fair and admir'd!
No messenger; but thine and all alone,
To-night, we'll wander through the streets, and note
The qualities of people. Come, my queen;
Last night you did desire it :-Speak not to us.

[Exeunt Ant. and Cleo. with their train.
Dem. Is Cæsar with Antonius priz'd so slight?
Phi. Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony,
He comes too short of that great property
Which still should go with Antony.

Dem.

SCENE II.-The same. Another room.

[Exeunt. Enter

Charmian, Iras, Alexas, and a Soothsayer. Char. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew this husband, which, you say, must change his horns with garlands !

Alex. Soothsayer.

Sooth. Your will?

Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than beloved. Char. I had rather heat my liver with drinking. Alex. Nay, hear him.

Char. Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all: let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius Cæsar, and companion me with my mistress.

Sooth. You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. Char. O excellent! I love long life better than figs. Sooth. You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune

Than that which is to approach.

Char. Then, belike, my children shall have no names: Pr'ythee, how many boys and wenches must I have?

Sooth. If every of your wishes had a womb, And fertile every wish, a million.

Char. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. Alex. You think, none but your sheets are privy to your wishes.

Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers.
Alex. We'll know all our fortunes.

Eno. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be-drunk to bed.

Iras. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else.

Char. Even as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine.

Iras. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay.

Char. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear.-Pr'ythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune.

Sooth. Your fortunes are alike.

Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars.
Sooth. I have said.

Iras. Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it?

Iras. Not in my husband's nose.

Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend!-Alexas,-come, his fortune, his fortune.-O, let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! And let her die too, and give him a worse! and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, beseech thee!

I

Iras. Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! for, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded; Therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly!

Char. Amen.

Alex. Here, madam, at your service. My lord approaches.

Enter Antony, with a Messenger and Attendants. Cleo. We will not look upon him: Go with us.

[Exeunt Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Alexas, Iras, Charmian, Soothsayer, and Attendants. Mess. Fulvia thy wife first came into the field, Ant. Against my brother Lucius? Mess. Ay:

But soon that war had end, and the time's state
Made friends of them, joining their force 'gainst
Cæsar;

Whose better issue in the war, from Italy,
Upon the first encounter, drave them.
Ant.
What worst?

Well,

His conquering banner shook, from Syria
To Lydia, and to Ionia ;
Whilst

Ant.

Mess.

Antony, thou would'st say,

6, my lord Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue;

Name Cleopatra as she's call'd in Rome:
Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults
With such full license, as both truth and malice
Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds,
When our quick winds' lie still; and our ills told us,
Is as our earing. Fare thee well a while.

Mess. At your noble pleasure.

[Exit. Ant. From Sicyon how the news? Speak there. 1 Att. The man from Sicyon.-Is there such a one?

2 Att. He stays upon your will. Ant.

These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,"

Let him appear.

Enter another Messenger.

Or lose myself in dotage.-What are you? 2 Mess. Fulvia thy wife is dead. Ant.

Where died she?

2 Mess. In Sicyon :
Her length of sickness, with what else more serious
Importeth thee to know, this bears. [Gives a letter.
Ant.
Forbear me.
[Exit Messenger.
There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it:
What our contempts do often hurl from us,
We wish it ours again; the present pleasure,
By revolution lowering, does become

The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone;
The hand could pluck her back, that shov'd her on.
I must from this enchanting queen break off;
Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
My idleness doth hatch.-How now! Enobarbus!
Enter Enobarbus.

Eno. What's your pleasure, sir?
Ant. I must with haste from hence.

Eno. Why, then, we kill all our women: We see how mortal an unkindness is to them; if they suffer our departure, death's the word.

Ant. I must be gone.

Eno. Fulvia? Ant. Dead.

Eno. Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth; comforting therein, that when old robes are worn out, there are members to make new. If there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new petticoat :-and, indeed, the tears live in an onion, that should water this

sorrow.

Ant. The business she hath broached in the state, Cannot endure my absence.

Eno. And the business you have broached here, cannot be without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode.

Ant. No more light answers. Let our officers
Have notice what we purpose. I shall break
The cause of our expedience to the queen,
And get her loves to part. For not alone
The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches,
Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too
Of many our contriving friends in Rome
Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius
Hath given the dare to Cæsar, and commands
The empire of the sea: our slippery people
(Whose love is never link'd to the deserver,
Till his deserts are past,) begin to throw
Pompey the great, and all his dignities,
Upon his son; who high in name and power,
Higher than both in blood and life, stands up
For the main soldier: whose quality going on,
The sides o'the world may danger: Much is breed-
ing,

Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life,
And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure,
To such whose place is under us, requires
Our quick remove from hence.
Eno. I shall do't.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.

Cleo. Where is he? Char.

"I did not see him since. Cleo. See where he is, who's with him, what he does:

[Exit Alex.

Ant. She is cunning past man's thought.

Eno. Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love; We cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove.

Ant. 'Would I had never seen her!

Enter Antony.

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

Eno. Sir?

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

(1) In some editions minds.

(2) Tilling, ploughing; prepares us to produce

good seed.

Cleo.
I am sick, and sullen.
Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my pur-

It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature
Will not sustain it.
Ant.

Ant.

Now, my dearest queen,· Cleo. Pray you, stand further from me. What's the matter? Cleo. I know, by that same eye, there's some good news.

What says the married woman?-You may go ;
'Would she had never given you leave to come!
Let her not say, 'tis I that keep you here,

I have no power upon you; hers you are.
Ant. The gods best know,-
Cleo.

My precious queen, forbear; And give true evidence to his love, which stands An honourable trial. Cleo.

So Fulvia told me.

So mightily betray'd! Yet, at the first,
I saw the treasons planted.
Ant.

Cleopatra,

Cleo. Why should I think, you can be mine, and true,

Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, Which break themselves in swearing!

Most sweet queen,

Ant. Cleo. Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going, But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying, Then was the time for words: No going then Eternity was in our lips, and eyes;

;

Bliss in our brows bent;' none our parts so poor,
But was a race of heaven: They are so still,
Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,
Art turn'd the greatest liar.

Ant.

How now, lady!

Cleo. I would, I had thy inches; thou should'st know,

There were a heart in Egypt.

Ant. Hear me, queen : The strong necessity of time commands Our services awhile; but my full heart Remains in use with you. Our Italy Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius Makes his approaches to the port of Rome: Equality of two domestic powers

Breeds scrupulous faction; The hated, grown to strength,

Are newly grown to love: the condernn'd Pompey,
Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace
Into the hearts of such as have not thriv'd
Upon the present state, whose number threaten;
And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge
By any desperate change: My more particular,
And that which most with you should safe
going,

Is Fulvia's death.

Cleo. Though age from folly could not give freedom,

It does from childishness :-Can Fulvia die?" Ant. She's dead, my queen:

my

Look here, and, at thy sovereign leisure, read
The garboils she awak'd: at the last, best:
See, when, and where she died.
Cleo.
O most false love!
Where be the sacred vials thou should'st fill
With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,
In Fulvia's death, how mine receiv'd shall be.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know
The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,
As you shall give the advice: Now, by the fire
That quickens Nilus' slime,' I go from hence,

(1) The arch of our eye-brows.
(2) Smack, or flavour. (3) Gate.

(4) Render my going not dangerous.
(5) Can Fulvia be dead?

(6) The commotion she occasioned.

A man, who is the abstract of all faults
That all men follow.

Lep.
I must not think, there are
Evils enough to darken all his goodness:
His faults, in him, seem as the spots of heaven,
More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary,
Rather than purchas'd;12 what he cannot change,
Than what he chooses.

Cas. You are too indulgent: Let us grant, it is not

(7) Mud of the river Nile.

(8) To me, the queen of Egypt.

(9) Heat. (10) Oblivious memory.

(11) Associate or partner.

(12) Procured by his own fault.

Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy;
To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit
And keep the turn of tippling with a slave;
To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet
With knaves that smell of sweat: say, this becomes
him,

(As his composure must be rare indeed,

Lep.

To-morrow, Cæsar,

hour,

Most noble Cæsar, shalt thou have report
How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea;
And it appears, he is belov'd of those

That only have fear'd Cæsar: to the ports
The discontents' repair, and men's reports
Give him much wrong'd.

I should have known no less:-
Cæs.
It hath been taught us from the primal state,
That he, which is, was wish'd, until he were;
And the ebb'd man, ne'er lov'd, till ne'er worth love,
Comes dear'd, by being lack'd. This common

body,

Like a vagabond flag upon the stream,
Goes to, and back, lackeying the varying tide,
To rot itself with motion.

Mess.
Casar, I bring thee word,
Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,
Make the sea serve them; which they ear and
wound

With keels of every kind: Many hot inroads
They make in Italy; the borders maritime
Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt:
No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon

Taken as seen: for Pompey's name strikes more,
Than could his war resisted.

Leave thy lascivious wassals. When thou once, Was beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel

Both what by sea and land I can be able,
To 'front this present time.
Cas.

Till which encounter,

It is my business too. Farewell.

Lep. Farewell, my lord: What you shall know mean time

Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,
To let me be partaker.

Cas.

I knew it for my bond.12

Doubt, not sir;

[Exeunt.

In aught an eunuch has: 'Tis well for thee,
That, being unseminar'd,14 thy freer thoughts
May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?
Mar. Yes, gracious madam.

Cleo.

Indeed? Mar. Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing But what in deed is honest to be done : Yet have I fierce affections, and think, What Venus did with Mars.

Cleo.
O Charmian,
Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or
sits he?

Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?
O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!
Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou
mov'st?

The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm