Mac. She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to her*.

Eno. When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up his heart upon the river of Cydnus.

Agr. There she appeared indeed; or my reporter devised well for her.

Eno. I will tell you:

The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that

The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver;

Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water, which they beat, to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
It beggar'd all description: she did lie

In her pavilion (cloth of gold, of tissue),
O'er-picturing that Venus, where we see

The fancy out-work nature: on each side her,
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With diverse-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid, did t.

Agr. O, rare for Antony! Eno. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings: at the helm A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame ‡ the office. From the barge A strange invisible pérfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her; and Autony, Enthron'd in the market-place, did sit alone, Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,

* Suits with her merits.

+ Added to the warmth they were intended to diReadily perform.

minish.

Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,

And made a gap in nature.

Agr.

Rare Egyptian!

Eno. Upon her landing, Antony sent to her,
Invited her to supper: she replied,

It should be better, he became her guest;
Which she entreated: Our courteous Antony,
Whom ne'er the word of 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.

Agr.

Royal wench! She made great Cæsar lay his sword to bed; He plough'd her, and she cropp'd.

Eno.

I saw her once

Hop forty paces through the public street:

And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted, That she did make defect, perfection,

And, breathless, power breathe-forth.

Mac. Now Autony must leave her utterly.

Eno. Never; he will not;

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale

Her infinite variety: Other women

Cloy th' appetites they feed; but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies. For vilest things Become themselves in her; that the holy priests

Bless her, when she's riggish*.

Mac. If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle

The heart of Antony, Octavia is

A blessed lottery to him.

SCENE III.

The same. A room in Cæsar's house.

Enter Cæsar, Antony, Octavia between them; Attendants, and a Soothsayer.

Ant. The world, and my great office, will some

Good night, sir.-My Octavia,

Read not my blemishes in the world's report:

I have not kept my square; but that to come
Shall all be done by the rule. Good night, dear

lady.

Octa. Good night, sir.

Cas. Good night.

[Exeunt Cæsar and Octavia, Ant. Now, sirrah! you do wish yourself in Egypt? Sooth. Would I had never come from thence, nor you

Thither!
Ant.
Sooth.

If you can, your reason?

I see't in

My motion, have it not in my tongue: But yet

Hie you again to Egypt.

Ant.

Say to me,

Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Cæsar's, or mine? Sooth. Cæsar's.

Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side:

Thy dæmon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is Noble, courageous, high, unmatchable,

Where Cæsar is not; but near him, thy angel

Becomes a Fear, as being o'erpower'd; therefore Make space enough between you.

Ant.

Speak this no more.

Sooth. To none but thee; no more, but when to

thee.

If thou dost play with him at any game,

Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck, He beats thee 'gainst the odds; thy lustre thickens, When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit

Is all afraid to govern thee near him;

But, he away, 'tis noble.

Ant.

Get thee gone:

Say to Ventidius, I would speak with him:

[Exit Soothsayer. He shall to Parthia.-Be it art, or hap, He hath spoken true: The very dice obey him; And, in our sports, my better cunning faints Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds: His cocks do win the battle still of mine, When it is all to nought; and his quails* ever Beat mine, inhoop'd t, at odds. I will to Egypt: And though I make this marriage for my peace,

Enter Ventidius.

I' the east my pleasure lies:-O, come, Ventidius, You must to Parthia; your commission's ready: Follow me, and receive it.

[Exeunt.

The ancients used to match quails as we match cocks.

+ Inclosed.

SCENE IV.

The same. A street.

Enter Lepidus, Mæcenas, and Agrippa.

Lep. Trouble yourselves no further: pray you,

hasten

Your generals after.

Agr.

Sir, Mark Antony

Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow.

Lep. Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress, Which will become you both, farewell.

Mæc.

As I conceive the journey, be at mount

Before you, Lepidus.

*Lep.

We shall,

Your way is shorter,

Sir, good success!

[Exeunt.

My purposes do draw me much about;

You'll win two days upon me.

Mac. Agr.

Lep. Farewell.

SCENE V.

Alexandria. A room in the palace.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.

Cleo. Give me some musick; musick, moodyt