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It is not Caesar's natural "vice to hate
Our great competitor. From Alexandria
This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes
The lamps of night in revel; is not more manlike
Than Cleopatra, nor the queen of Ptolemy
More womanly than he: hardly gave audience, or
Vouchsafe! to think he had partners: you shall find
there A man who is the abstract of all faults That all men follow.
Lepidns. I must not think there are
Evils enow to darken all his goodness:
Cces. You are too indulgent. Let us grant it is not
him, (As his composure must be rare indeed Whom these things cannot blemish,) yet must Antony No way excuse his soils, when we do bear So great weight in his lightness. If he filTd His vacancy with his voluptuousness. Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones, Call on him for 't; but, to confound such time, That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud As his own state, and ours, — 'tis to be chid As we rate boys; who, being mature in knowledge, Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, And so rebel to judgment.
Enter a Messenger.
Lep. Here's more news.
Mess. Thy biddings have been done; and every hour, Most noble Caesar, 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 Caesar: to the ports The discontents repair, and men's reports Give him much wrong'd.
Cces. I should have known no less.
It hath been taught us from the primal state,
Mess. Caesar, I bring thee word,
Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,
Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once
Lep. 'Tis pity of him.
Cces. Let his shames quickly
Lep. ■ To-morrow, Csesar,
I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly
Cces. Till which encounter,
It is my business too. Farewell.
hep. Farewell, my lord. What you shall know meantime Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir, To let me be partaker.
Cces. Doubt not, sir; I knew it for my bond.
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardlan.
Cleo. Charmian, —
Cleo. Ha, ha ! —
Char. Why, madam?
Cleo. That I might sleep out this great gap of time My Antony is away.
Char. You think of him too much.
Cleo. O, 'tis treason!
Char. Madam, I trust, not so.
Cleo. Thou, eunuch, Mardian-—
Mar Man. AVhat's your Highness' pleasure?
Cleo. Not now to hear thee sing: I take no pleasure In aught an eunuch has. 'Tis well for thee, That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?
Mar. Y'es, gracious madam.
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? 0 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
And burgonet of men. — He's speaking now,
Alex. Sovereign of Egypt, hail!
Gleo. How much unlike art thou Mark Antony; Yet, coming from him, that great med'cine hath With, his tinct gilded thee. — How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?
Alex. Last thing he did, dear Queen, He kiss'd, — the last of many doubled kisses, — This orient pearl: —- his speech sticks in my heart.
Gleo. Mine ear must pluck it thence.
Alex. Good friend, quoth he,
Say, "the firm Roman to great Egypt sends
Gleo. What! was he sad, or merry?
Alex. Like to the time o' th' year between th' extremes Of hot and cold: he was nor sad, nor merry.