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Answer his emptiness ! — Caesar, thou hast subdu'd His judgment too.
Enter an Attendant.
Ait. A messenger from Caesar.
Cleo. What, no more ceremony ? — See, my women ! —Against the blown rose may they stop their nose, That kneel'd unto the buds. —- Admit him, sir.
Eno. [_Aside.~] Mine honesty and I begin to square. The loyalty well held to fools does make Our faith mere folly: yet he, that can endure To follow with allegiance a fallen lord, Does conquer him that did his master conquer, And earns a place i' th' story.
Cleo. Caesar's will?
Thyr. Hear it apart.
Cleo. None but friends: say boldly,
Thyr. So, haply, are they friends to Antony.
Eno. He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has, Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master Will leap to be his friend: for us, you know, Whose he is, we are, and that's Caesar's.
Thyr. So. —
Thus then, thoii most renown'd: Caesar entreats.
Cleo. Go on: right royal.
Thyr. He knows that you embrace not Antony As you did love, but as you fear'd him.
Thyr. The scars upon your honour, therefore, he
TOL. XII. F
Does pity, as constrained blemishes,
Cleo. He is a god, and knows
What is most right. Mine honour was not yielded, But conquer'd merely.
Eno. [_Aside.^ To be sure of that,
I will ask Antony. — Sir, sir, thou'rt so leaky,
Thyr. Shall I say to Csesar
What you require of him? for he partly begs
Cleo. What's your name?
Thyr. My name is Thyreus.
Cleo. Most kind messenger.
Say to great Caesar this. — In deputation
Thyr. 'Tis your noblest course.
Wisdom and fortune combating together,
Cleo. Your Caesar's father oft,
When he hath urns'd of taking kingdoms in,
Enter Antony and Enobakbus.
Ant. Favours, by Jove that thunders ! —
What art thou, fellow?
Thyr. One that but performs
The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest
Eno. You will be whipp'd.
Ant. Approach, there. —Ay, you kite ! —-Now gods and devils! Authority melts from me: of late, when I cri'd "ho!" Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth, And cry, "Your will?" Have you no ears? I am
Enter Attendants. Antony yet. Take hence this Jack, and whip him.
Eno. 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp Than with an old one dying.
Ant. Moon and stars!
Whip him. — Were 't twenty of the greatest tribu-
Thyr. Mark Antony,—
Ant. Tug him away: being whipp'd,
Bring him again. —- The Jack of Caesar's shall
[Exeunt Attend, loitli Thybetjs,
And by a gem of women, to be abus'd
Cleo. Good my lord, —
Ant. You have been a boggier ever : — But when we in our viciousness grow hard, (0 misery on 't!) the wise gods seal our eyes, In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us Adore our errors; laugh at 's, while we strut To our confusion.
Cleo. 0, is it come to this?
Ant. I found you as a morsel, cold upon Dead Caesar'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,
Enter Attendants with Thyheus.
Is he whipp'd? 1 Ait, Soundly, my lord.
Ant. Cri'd he? and begg'd he pardon?
1 Ait. 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 Caesar in his triumph, since
Thou hast been whipp'd for following him: hence-.
forth. The white hand of a lady fever thee; Shake thou to look on 't. — Get thee back to Caesar, 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, When my good stars, that were my former guides, Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires Into the abysm 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! [Exit Thyheus.
Cleo. Have you done yet?
Ant. Alack! our terrene moon
Is now eclips'd, and it portends alone
Cleo. I must stay his time.
Ant. To flatter Csesar, 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,