To Lydia, and to Ionia;
Whilst
Ant.
Mess.

Antony, thou wouldst say,

O, my lord! Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general Name Cleopatra as she's call'd in Rome: [tongue; Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults With such full licence, 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 Att. The man from Sicyon.-Is there such an one? 2 Att. He stays upon your will. Ant. These strong Egyptian fetters I must break," Enter another Messenger.

Let him appear.

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 band 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. 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: I do think, there is mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such a celerity in dying.

Ant. She is cunning past mau's thought.

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 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 bence.
Eno. I shall do't.

SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

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 I did not send you;-If you find him sad, [does :Say, am dancing; if in mirth, report That I am sudden sick: Quick, and return.

[Exit Alex. Char. Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, You do not hold the method to enforce The like from him.

Cleo.

What should I do, I do not? Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in nothing.

Cleo. Thou teachest like a fool: the way to lose him. Char. Tempt him not so too far: I wish, forbear; In time we hate that which we often fear.

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

Eno. Sir?

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

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 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 Pompeias
Hath given the dare to Cæsar, and commands

O, never was there queen So mightily betray'd! Yet, at the first, saw the treasons planted.

Cleopatra,Cleo. Why should I think, you can be mine, and 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! Ant.

Most sweet queen,

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;

Ant.

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 shouldst
There were a heart in Egypt.
[know,
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
[strength,
Breeds scrupulous faction: The hated, grown to
Are newly grown to love: the condemn'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 numbers threaten :
And quietness, grown sick of rest, wonld purge
By any desperate change: My more particular,
And that which most with you should safe my going,
Is Fulvia's death.
[dom,

Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me free-
It does from childishness:-Can Fulvia die?
Ant. She's dead, my queen:

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 he the sacred vials thou shouldst 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 1 bear; which are, or cease,
As you shall give the advice: Now, by the fire,
That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence,
Thy soldier, servant; making peace, or war,
As thou affect'st.

Cleo.
Cat my lace, Charmiau, come;-
But let it be. I am quickly ill, and well:
So Antony loves.
Ant.

My precious queen, forbear;

And give true evidence to his love, which stands. An honourable trial.

I pr'ythee, turn aside, and weep for her; Then bid adieu to me, and say, the tears Belong to Egypt: Good now, play one scene Of excellent dissembling; and let it look Like perfect honour.

Ant.

You'll heat my blood; no more. Cleo. You can do better yet; but this is meetly. Ant. Now, by my sword,Cleo. And target,-Still he mends; But this is not the best: Look, pry'thee, Charmian, How this Herculean Roman does become The carriage of his chafe. Ant.

I'll leave you, lady. Cleo. Courteous lord, one word. Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it: Sir, you and I have lov'd,-but there's not it; That you know well: Something it is I would,O, my oblivion is a very Antony,

And I am all forgotten.

Ant.

But that your royalty

Holds idleness your subject, I should take you For idleness itself.

Cleo.

'Tis sweating labour,
To bear such idleness so near the heart
As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me ;
Since my becomings kill me, when they do not
Eye well to you: Your honour calls you hence;
Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly,

And all the gods go with you! upon your sword
Sit laurel'd victory! and smooth success
Be strew'd before your feet!
Ant.
Let us go. Come;
Our separation so abides, and flies,
That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me,
And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.
Away.
[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Rome. An Apartment in Caesar's House.
Enter Octavius Cæsar, Lepidus, and Attendants.
Caes. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know,
It is not Cæsar's natural vice to hate
One 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 Ptolemy
More womanly than he hardly gave audience, or
Vouchsaf'd to think he had partners: You shall find
A man, who is the abstract of all faults [there
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; what he cannot change,
Than what he chooses.

[him

Cas. You are too indulgent: Let us grant, it is not 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 (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 fill'da 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 Most noble Cesar, shalt thou have report Chour, 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.

Cas.
I should have known no less :-
It hath been taught us from the primal state,
That be, 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.

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

Cæs.

Antony, Leave thy lascivious wassels. When thou once Wast beaten from Modena, where thou siew'st: Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against, Though daintily brought up, with patience more Than savages could suffer. Thou didst drink The stale of horses, and the gilded paddle [deign Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did The roughest berry on the rudest hedge; Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets, The barks of trees thou browsed'st; on the Alps It is reported, thou didst eat strange flesh, Which some did die to look on: And all this (It wounds thine honour, that I speak it now), Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek So much as lank'd not.

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
And burgonet of men. He's speaking now,
Or murmuring, Where's my serpent of old Nile?
For so he calls me; Now I feed myself
With most delicious poison :-Think on me,
That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black,
And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Cæsar,
When thou wast here above the ground, was
A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey
Would stand, and make his eyes grow in my brow;
There would he anchor his aspect, and die
With looking on his life.

Alex.

Enter Alexas.

Sovereign of Egypt, hail! Cleo. Mow much unlike art thou Mark Antony ! Yet, coming from him, that great medicine 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.
Cleo. Mine ear must pluck it thence.
Alex.
Good friend, quoth he,
Say, The firm Roman to great Egypt sends
This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot
To mend the petty present, I will piece
Her opulent throne with kingdoms: All the east,
Say thou, shall call her mistress. So he nodded,
And soberly did mount a termagant steed,
Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke
Was beastly dumb'd by him.
Cleo.
What, was he sad, or merry?
Alex. Like to the time o'the year between the ex-
tremes

Of heat and cold; he was nor sad, nor merry.
Cleo. O well-divided disposition !-Note him,
Note him, good Charmian, 'tis the man; butnote him:
He was not sad; for he would shine on those
That make their looks by his he was not merry;
Which seem'd to tell them, his remembrance lay
In Egypt with his joy: but between both:

O heavenly mingle-Be'st thou sad, or merry,
The violence of either thee becomes;

So does it no man else.-Met'st thou my posts?
Alex. Ay, madam, twenty several messengers :
Why do you send so thick?

Cleo.
Who's born that day
When I forget to send to Antony,
Shall die a beggar.-Ink and paper, Charmian.-
Welcome, my good Alexas.-Did I, Charmian,
Ever love Cesar so t

Char.

O that brave Cæsar!

He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both,
Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves,
Nor either cares for him.
Cæsar and Lepidus

Men.

Are in the field; a mighty strength they carry.
Pom. Where have you this? 'tis false.

Men.
From Silvius, sir.
Pom. He dreams; I know, they are in Rome to-
Looking for Antony: But all charms of love, [gether,
Salt Cleopatra, soften thy wan'd lip!

Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both!
Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts,
Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks,
Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite;
That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour,
Even till a Lethe'd dulness.-How now, Varrius ?
Enter Varrius.

Var. This is most certain that I shall deliver:
Mark Antony is every hour in Rome
Expected; since he went from Egypt, 'tis
A space for further travel.
Pom.

I could have given less matter
A better ear.-Menas, I did not think,
This amorous surfeiter would have don'd his helm
For such a petty war: his soldiership
Is twice the other twain: But let us rear
The higher our opinion, that our stirring
Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck
The ne'er lust-wearied Antony.
Men.

I cannot hope, Cæsar and Antony shall well greet together: His wife, that's dead, did trespasses to Cæsar; His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think, Not mov'd by Antony. Pom I know not, Menas, How lesser enmities may give way to greater. Were't not that we stand up against them all, "Twere pregnant they should square between themFor they have entertained cause enough [selves; To draw their swords: but how the fear of us May cement their divisions, and bind up The petty difference we yet not know. Be as our gods will have it! It only stands. Our lives upon, to use our strongest lands. Come, Menas.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt,

I shall entreat him To answer like himself: if Cæsar move him, Let Antony look over Cæsar's head, And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter, Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard, I would not shave to-day. Lep.

For private stomaching.

Eno.

'Tis not a time

Every time.

Serves for the matter that is then born in it.
Lep. But small to greater matters must give way.
Eno. Not if the small come first.

Lep.

Your speech is passion: But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes The noble Autony.

What was't to you?

My being in Egypt, Cæsar,

Cas. No more than my residing here at Rome
Might be to you in Egypt: Yet, if you there
Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt
Might be my question.
Ant.

How intend you, practis'd?
Caes. You may be pleas'd to catch at mine intent,
By what did here befail me. Your wife, and brother,
Made wars upon me; and their contestation
Was theme for you, you were the word of war.
Ant. You do mistake your business; my brother
Did urge me in his act: I inquire it; [never
And have my learning from some true reports,
That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather
Discredit my authority with yours;

And make the wars alike against my stomach,
Having alike your cause? Of this, my letters
Before did satisfy you. If you'il patch a quarrel,
As matter whole you have not to make it with,
It must not be with this.

Cæs.

You praise yourself By laying defects of judgment to me; but You patch'd up your excuses.

Ant.

Not so, not so; I know you could not lack, I am certain on't, Very necessity of this thought, that I, Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought, Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars Which 'fronted mine own peace. As for my wife, I would you had her spirit in such another: The third o'the world is yours; which with a snaffle You may pace easy, but not such a wife.

Eno. Would we had all such wives, that the men might go to wars with the women!

Ant. So much uncurable, her garboils, Cæsar,
Made out of her impatience (which not wanted
Shrewdness of policy too), I grieving grant,
Did you too much disquiet; for that, you must
But say, I could not help it.
Cæs.

I wrote to you,
When rioting in Alexandria; you
Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts
Did gibe my missive out of audience.

Ant.

Sir,

Ant. No, Lepidus, let him speak;

The honour's sacred which he talks on now,
Supposing that I lack'd it: But on, Cæsar;
The article of my oath,-

Cas. To lend me arms, and aid, when I requir'd
The which you both denied.
[them;
Ant.
Neglected, rather;
And then, when poison'd hours had bound me up
From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may,
I'll play the penitent to you: but mine honesty
Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power
Work without it: Truth is, that Fulvia,
To have me out of Egypt, made wars here;
For which myself, the ignorant motive, do
So far ask pardon, as befits mine honour
To stoop in sach a case.

'Tis nobly spoken.

Lep. Mec. If it might please you, to enforce no further The griefs between ye: to forget them quite, Were to remember that the present need Speaks to atone you.

Lep. Eno. Or, if you borrow one another's love for the instant, you may, when you hear no more words of

Worthily spoke, Mecanas.

Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to
wrangle in, when you have nothing else to do.
Ant. Thou art a soldier only; speak no more.
Eno. That truth should be silent, I had almost for-

got.

Ant. You wrong this presence, therefore speak no

more.

Eno. Go to then; your considerate stone. Cæs. I do not much dislike the matter, but The manner of his speech for it cannot be, We shall remain in friendship, our conditions So differing in their acts. Yet, if I knew What hoop should hold us stanch, from edge to edge O'the world I would pursue it. Give me leave, Cæsar,

Agr..

Caes. Speak, Agrippa.

Agr. Thou hast a sister by the mother's side, Admir'd Octavia: great Mark Antony Is now a widower.

Cæs.

Say not so, Agrippa; If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof Were well deserv'd of rashness.

Ant. I am not married, Cæsar; let me hear Agrippa further speak.

Agr. To hold you in perpetual amity,
To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts
With an unslipping knot, take Antony
Octavia to his wife whose beauty claims
No worse a husband than the best of men;
Whose virtue, and whose general graces, speak
That which none else can utter. By this marriage,
All little jealousies, which now seem great,
And all great fears, which now import their dangers,
Would then be nothing: truths would be bat tales,
Where now half tales be truths: her love to both,
Would, each to other, and all loves to both,
Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke;
For 'tis a studied, not a present thought.
By duty ruminated.

Ant.
Will Cæsar speak?
Ces. Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd
With what is spoke already.

Eno. Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance, aud made the night light with drinking.

Mec. Eight wild boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and but twelve persons there; Is this true?

Eno. This was but as a fly by an eagle: we had much more monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting.

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

Eno. When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up bis 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 perfum'd, that [silver;
The winds were love-sick with them: the oars were
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.

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 perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharts. The city cast Her people out upon her; and Antony, Enthron'd in the market-place, did sit alone, Whistling to the air; which, but for vacaney, 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 Caesar 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.

Mec. Now Antony 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 is riggish.

Mec. If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle
The heart of Antony, Octavia is

A blessed lottery to him.

Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side:
Thy dæmon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is
Noble, courageous, high, unmatchable,
Where Caesar's 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 Sooth.

He shall to Parthia.-Be it art, or hap,
He bath 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 ali to nought; and his quails ever
Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds. I will to Egypt:
And though I make this marriage for my peace,

Enter Ventidius.
I'the east my pleasure lies:-0, come, Ventidius,
You must to Parthia; your commission's ready:
Follow me, and receive it.
[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. The same. A Street. Enter Lepidus, Mecenas, and Agrippa. Lep. Trouble yourselves no further: pray you, Your generals after.

[hastea

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.

We shall,

Your way is shorter, My purposes do draw me much about; You'll win two days upon me.

Mec. Agr.
Lep. Farewell.

Sir, good success! [Exeunt.

Cleo. Let it alone; let us to billiards: Come, Charmian.

Char. My arm is sore, best play with Mardian. Cleo. As well a woman with an eunuch play'd, As with a woman;-Come, you'll play with me, sir? Mar. As well as I can, madam. [too short,

Cleo. And when good will is show'd, though it come The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now: Give me mine angle,- We'll to the river: there, My music playing far off, I will betray Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up, I'll think them every one an Antony, Anday, Ah, ha! you're caught.

Char. 'Twas merry, when You wager'd on your angling; when your diver Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he With ferveney drew up.

Cleo.

That time!-0 times!I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night I laugh'd him into patience: and next morn, Ere the ninth hour, I drank him to his bed; Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst I wore his sword Philippan. O from Italy;