Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

A strange invisible perfume hits the sense
Of the adjacent wharfs: The city cast
Her people out upon her: and Antony,
Enthron'd i'the market-place, did sit alone,
Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,
And made a gap in nature.
Dol. Rare Egyptian !

Thyr. Upon her landing, Antony sent to her,
Invited her to supper: she reply'd,

It should be better, he became her guest;
Which she intreated: Our courteous Antony,
(Whom never the word, no, woman heard speak)
Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast;
And, for his ordinary, pays his heart,

For what his eyes eat only.

Dol. Royal wench!

She made great Julius lay his sword to bed;
He plough'd her, and she cropp'd. Now Antony
Must leave her utterly.

Thyr. Never! he will not:

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety: Other women cloy

The appetites they feed; but she makes hungry,
Where most she satisfies.

Dol. Well, I am sorry,

He too approves the common liar, who
Thus speaks of him at Rome: but I will hope
Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy!

[Exeunt severally.

[blocks in formation]

Cleo. He was disposed to mirth; but, on the sudden,

A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus,-Enob. Madam.

Cleo. Seek him, and bring him hither.—Where's Alexas?

Alexas. Here, lady, at your service. My lord approaches.

Enter Antony, with a Messenger; Attendants

following.

Cleo. We will not look upon him; go with us.
[Exeunt Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Alexas,
Charmian, and Attendants.

Mess. Fulvia, thy wife, came first 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, jointing their forces against Cæsar;

Whose better issue in the war from Italy,

Upon the first encounter, drave them.

Ant. Well,

what worst?

Mess. The nature of bad news infects the teller. Ant. When it concerns the fool or coward. Ou: Things that are past, are done with me: "Tis thus; Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death, I hear him as he flatter'd.

Mess. Labienus,

Hath with his Parthian force, through extended Asia,
From Euphrates his conquering banner shook,
From Syria, to Lydia, and Ionia;

Whilst

Ant. Antony, thou would'st say,—

Mess. O, 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 awhile.

Mess. At your noble pleasure.

[Exit.

Ant. From Sicyon how the news? Speak there.
1 Atten. The man from Sicyon,—is there such a

one?

2 Atten. He stays upon your will.

Ant. Let him appear.

These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,

Enter another Messenger.

Or lose myself in dotage.—What are you?

Mess. Fulvia, thy wife, is dead.

Ant. Where dy'd she?

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.—Ho, Enobarbus!

Enter Enobarbus.

Enob. What's your pleasure, sir?

Ant. I must with haste from hence.

Enob. 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 begone.

Enob. Under a compelling occasion, let women die: It were pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies instantly: I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment.

Ant. She is cunning past man's thought. Fulvia is dead.

Enob. Sir?

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

Enob. Fulvia?

Ant. Dead.

Enob. Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. If there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the case to be lamented: this grief is crown'd 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.

Enob. 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 love 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 giv'n 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 in both than blood and life, stands up
For the main soldier; whose quality, going on,
The sides o'the world may danger: Much is breeding,
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.

Enob. I shall do't.

[Exeunt,

SCENE III.

Another Apartment in the Palace.

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:

« AnteriorContinuar »