Imagens das páginas

Enter LODOVICO, MONTANO, CASSIO carried in a chair, and Officers, with IAGO, prisoner.

Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief
Shore his old thread in twain: did he live now,
This sight would make him do a desperate turn,
Yea, curse his better angel from his side,
And fall to reprobation.

Oth. 'Tis pitiful: but yet Iago knows
That she with Cassio hath the act of shame

A thousand times committed; Cassio confess'd it:

And she did gratify his amorous works

With that recognisance and pledge of love

Which I first gave her; I saw it in his hand:
It was a handkerchief. an antique token

My father gave my mother.

Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers!

Iago. Come, hold your peace

Emil. Twill out, 'twill out;-I hold my peace, Sir? no;

No, I will speak as liberal as the air;

Let heaven, and men, and devils, let them all,

All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.
Iago. Be wise, and get you home.

Emil. I will not.

Gra. Fie!

Your sword upon a woman!

[IAGO offers to stab his wife.

[speak'st of

Emil. O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou I found by fortune, and did give my husband; For often, with a solemn earnestness, (More than, indeed, belong'd to such a trifle,) He begg'd of me to steal it.

Iago. Villanous whore!

Emil. She gave it Cassio! no, alas; I found it,

And I did give 't my husband.

lago. Filth, thou liest.

Emil. By heaven, I do not; I do not, gentlemen.O murderous coxcomb! what should such a fool Do with so good a wife?

[IAGO stabs EMILIA, then runs out. Oth. Are there no stones in heaven But what serve for the thunder?-Precious villain! Gra. The woman falls; sure, he has kill'd his wife. Emil. Ay, ay:-0, lay me by my mistress' side! Gra. He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.

Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon, Which I have here recover'd from the Moor. Come, guard the door without; let him not pass, But kill him rather. I'll after that same villain, For 'tis a damned slave.

[Exeunt MONTANO and GRATIANO. Oth. I am not valiant neither, But every puny whipster gets my sword:But why should honour outlive honesty? Let it go all.

Emil. What did thy song bode, lady?

Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan,
And die in music:-"Willow, willow, willow."—
Moor, she was chaste; she loved thee, cruel Moor;
So come my soul to bliss as I speak true:
So speaking as I think, I die,-I die.

Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber,
It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper ;-
O, here it is.-Uncle, 1 must come forth.


Gra. [Within.] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer. [dear; Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak with me, Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.

Re-enter GRATIANO.

Gra. What is the matter?

Oth. Behold, I have a weapon;
A better never did itself sustain

Upon a soldier's thigh. I have seen the day,
That, with this little arm and this good sword,
I have made my way through more impediments
Than twenty times your stop:-but, O vain boast

Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now.

Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd;
Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.


Do you go back dismay'd? 'tis a lost fear;
Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
And he retires-where should Othello go?-
Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench?
Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt,
This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven,

And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl!)

Even like thy chastity.

O cursed, cursed slave!-Whip me, ye devils, From the possession of this heavenly sight! Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur! Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead!

[ocr errors]

'Dead! O! O! 01

Lod. Where is this rash and most unfortunate man? Oth. That's he that was Othello;-here I am. Lod. Where is that viper? bring the villain forth. Oth. I look down towards his feet;-but that's a If thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee. [fable.

[OTHELLO wounds IAGO. Lod. Wrench his sword from him. Iago. I bleed, Sir; but not kill'd.

Oth. I am not sorry neither; I'd have thee live;
For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.

Lod. O thou Othello! that wert once so good,
Fallen in the practice of a cursed slave,
What shall be said to thee?

Oth. Why, anything:

An honourable murderer, if you will:

For naught I did in hate, but all in honour.

Lod. This wretch hath part confess'd his villany.
Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?
Oth. Ay.

Cas. Dear general, I never gave you cause.
Oth. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.-
Will you, I pray you, demand that demi-devil,
Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body?

Iago. Demand me nothing: what you know, you know: From this time forth I never will speak word. Lod. What, not to pray?

Gra. Torments will ope your lips.

Oth. Well, thou dost best.

Lod. Sir, you shall understand what hath befallen,
Which, as I think, you know not.
Here is a letter,

Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo;
And here another: the one of them imports
The death of Cassio to be undertook
By Roderigo.

Oth. O villain!

Cas. Most heathenish, and most gross! Lod. Now, here's another discontented paper Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems, Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain; But that, belike, Iago in the interim Came in and satisfied him.

Oth. O the pernicious caitiff!—

How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief
That was my wife's?

Cas. I found it in my chamber:

And he himself confess'd, but even now,
That there he dropp'd it, for a special purpose,
Which wrought to his desire.

Oth. O fool! fool! fool!

Cas. There is, besides, in Roderigo's letter,-
How he upbraids Iago, that he made him
Brave me upon the watch; whereon it came
That I was cast: and even but now he spake,
After long seeming dead,-Iago hurt him,
Iago set him on.

Lod. You must forsake this room, and go with us
Your power and your command is taken off,
And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave,

If there be any cunning cruelty

That can torment him much, and hold him long,
It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest,
Till that the nature of your fault be known
To the Venetian state. Come, bring him away.
Oth. Soft you; a word or two before you go.

I have done the state some service, and they know it

No more of that.-I pray you, in your letters,
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, one
Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak

Of one not easily jealous, but, being wrought,
Perplex'd in the extreme; of one, whose hand,
Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away,

of one that loved, not wisely, but too well;


[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]


Oth. I kiss'd thee ere I kill'd thee;-no way but this, [Falling upon DESDEMONA. Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.


Cas. This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon; For he was great of heart

[blocks in formation]





Friends to CESAR




TAURUS, Lieutenant-general to CÆSAR.
CANIDIUS, Lieutenant-general to ANTONY.

SILIUS, an Officer in VENTIDIUS' Army.


A Soothsayer.-A Clown.

CLEOPATRA, Queen of Egypt.

OCTAVIA, Sister to CESAR, and Wife to ANTONY.

Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants

SCENE,-Dispersed; in several Parts of the ROMAN EMPIRE.




[ocr errors]



Phi. Nay, but this dotage of our general's
O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes,
That o'er the files and musters of the war

Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn,
The office and devotion of their view
Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart,
Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst
The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper;
And is become the bellows and the fan
To cool a gipsy's lust Look where they come!
Flourish. Enter ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, with their
trains; Eunuchs fanning her.

Take but good note, and you shall see in him
The triple pillar of the world transform'd
Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see.

Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much.
Ant. There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.
Cleo. I'll set a bourn how far to be beloved. [earth.
Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new
Enter an Attendant.

Att. News, my good lord, from Rome.
Ant. Grates me:-the sum.

Cleo. Nay, hear them, Antony:

Fulvia, perchance, is angry: or, who knows

If the scarce-bearded Cæsar have not sent

His powerful mandate to you, "Do this, or this;
Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that;
Perform 't, or else we damn thee."

[blocks in formation]

Call in the messengers.-As I am Egypt's queen,
Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine
Is Cæsar's homager; else so thy cheek pays shame
When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds.-The messengers!
Ant. Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch
Of the ranged empire fall! Here is my space.
Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alike
Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life

Is to do thus; [Embracing.] when such a mutual pair,
And such a twain can do 't, in which I bind,
On pain of punishment, the world to weet,
We stand up peerless.

[blocks in formation]

Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra.-

Now, for the love of Love, and her soft hours,

Let's not confound the time with conference harsh: There's not a minute of our lives should stretch Without some pleasure now: what sport to-night? Cleo. Hear the ambassadors.

Ant. Fie, wrangling queen!

Whom everything becomes,-to chide, to laugh,
To weep; whose every passion fully strives
To make itself in thee fair and admired!
No messenger; but thine, and all alone,
To-night we'll wander through the streets, and note
The qualities of people. Come, my queen;
Last night you did desire it:-speak not to us.

[Exeunt ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, with their train
Dem. Is Cæsar with Antonius prized so slight?
Phi. Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony,
He comes too short of that great property
Which still should go with Antony.

Dem. I am full sorry

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

SCENE II.-The same. Another Room.

Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a Soothsayer. Char. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most anything Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer that you praised so to the queen? 0, that I knew this husband, which, you say, must charge his horns with garlands !

Alex. Soothsayer!

Sooth. Your will?

[blocks in formation]

A little I can read.

Alex. Shew him your hand.


Eno. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough Cleopatra's health to drink.

Char. Good Sir, give me good fortune.

Sooth. I make not, but foresee.

Char. Pray then, foresee me one.

Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer than you are.

Char. He means in flesh.

Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old.
Char. Wrinkles forbid!

Alex. Vex not his prescience; be attentive.

Char. Hush!

Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than beloved.
Char. I had rather heat my liver with drinking.
Alex. Nay, hear him.

Char. Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius Cæsar, and companion me with my mistress. Sooth. You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. Char. O excellent! I love long life better than figs. Sooth. You have seen and proved a fairer former Than that which is to approach. [fortune

Char. Then, belike, my children shall have no names: -pr'ythee, how many boys and wenches must I have? Sooth. If every of your wishes had a womb,

And fertile every wish, a million.

Char. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch.

Alex. You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes.

Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers.

Alex. We'll know all our fortunes.

Eno. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be-drunk to bed.

Iras. There sa palm presages chastity, if nothing else. Char. Even as the overflowing Nilus presageth famine.

Iras. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay.

Char. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear.-Pr'ythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune.

Sooth. Your fortunes are alike.

Iras. But how? but how? give me particulars.
Sooth. I have said.

Iras. Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it?

Iras. Not in my husband's nose.

Char. Our worser thoughts heaven mend!- Alexas, -come, his fortune, his fortune!-O, let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! and let her die too, and give him a worse! and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee!

Iras. Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people for, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded; therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly!

Char. Amen.

[blocks in formation]
[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

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 hand could pluck her back that shoved 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 I

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 de parture, 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 man's thought.

Eno. Alack, Sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love: we cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove.

Ant. Would I had never seen her!

Eno. O, Sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of work; which not to have been blessed withal would have discredited your travel.

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 shews 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, e
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 given the dare to Cæsar, and commande

[ocr errors]

The empire of the sea: our slippery people
(Whose love is never link'd to the deserver
Tin 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 hence.

Eno. I shall do't.

SCENE III.-The same.


Another Room.

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 :I did not send you. If you find him sad,

Say I 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.

[blocks in formation]

But here comes Antony.

Cleo. I am sick and sullen.

Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall:

It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature

Will not sustain it.

Ant. Now, my dearest queen,

Cleo. Pray you, stand further from me.
Ant. What's the matter?

Cleo. I know by that same eye there's some good news.
What says the married woman?-You may go:
Would she had never given you leave to come!
Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here,-

I have no power upon you; hers you are.

Ant. The gods best know,

Cleo. O, never was there queen

So mightily betray'd! yet at the first

I saw the treasons planted.

Ant. Cleopatra,

Cleo. Why should I think you can be mine, and true, 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 ou. lips and eyes,

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!

[ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]

Our services a while; 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

Breeds scrupulous faction: the hated, grown to strength,
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 thrived
Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;
And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge
By any desperate change: my more particular,
And that which most with you should safe my going,
Is Fulvia's death.

Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me freedom, It does from childishness:-can Fulvia die?

Ant. She's dead, my queen:

Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read
The garboils she awaked; at the last,-best,-
See when and where she died.

Cleo. O most false love!

Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,

In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know
The purposes I 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. Cut my lace, Charmian, 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.

Cleo. So Fulvia told me.

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, pr'ythee, 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 loved, 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 laurell'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!



SCENE IV.-ROME. An Apartment in CESAR's House.

Enter OCTAVIUS Cæsar, LEPIDUS, and Attendants. Cæs. 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
Vouchsafed to think he had partners: you shall find
A man who is the abstract of all faults
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 purchased; what he cannot change,
Than what he chooses.


Cæs. 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 si

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 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 fill'd
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.

Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou mov'st? The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm

Mess. Thy biddings have been done; and every hour,
Most noble Cæsar, shalt thou have report
How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea;
And it appears he is beloved 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 he which is, was wish'd, until he were;

And the ebb'd man ne'er loved, 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. свор

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

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

Cæs. Antony,

Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once
Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'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 puddle
Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did deign
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.

Lep. It is pity of him.

Cas. Let his shames quickly

Drive him to Rome: 'tis time we twain

Did shew ourselves i' the field; and, to that end, Assemble we immediate council: Pompey Thrives in our idleness.

Lep. To-morrow, Cæsar,"

I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly,

Both what by sea and land I can be able,

To front this present time.

Cas. Till which encounter,

It is my business too.




Lep. Farewell, my lord: what you shall know mean

Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, Sir,

To let me be partaker.


Cas. Doubt not, Sir;

I knew it for my bond.


[merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

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, I 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. Sovereign of Egypt, hail!

Cleo. How 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 easty
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 Of hot and cold; he was nor sad nor merry. [tremes

Cleo. O well-divided disposition-Note him,
Note him, good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note 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.-Mett'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 Cæsar so?

Char. O, that brave Cæsar!

Cleo. Be choked with such another emphasis!

Say, the brave Antony.

Char. The valiant Cæsar!

Cleo. By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, If thou with Cæsar paragon again

My man of men.

Char. By your most gracious pardon,

I sing but after you.

Cleo. My salad days,

When I was green in judgment:-cold in blood,

To say as I said then!-But come, away;

Get me ink and paper: he shall have every day

A several greeting, or I'll unpeople Egypt. [Exeunt

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]
« AnteriorContinuar »