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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

him,
(As his composure must be rare indeed
Whom these things cannot blemish,) yet must Antony
No way excuse his soils, a 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,—t is 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. Ме. Thy biddings have been done; and every hour, Most noble Cæsar, shalt thou have report How 't is 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. Cæs.

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 lov'd till ne'er worth love, Comes fear'd by being lack'd. This common body, Like to 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, & Soils-defilements, taints.

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

Antony,
Leave thy lascivious vassals. 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 cougli 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 flesli,
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. 'T is pity of him.
Cæs.

Let his shames quickly
Drive him to Rome: T is time we twain

a Vassals. The spelling of the original is vassails. The modern reading is wassals. Now, in three other passages of the original, where the old English word wussal is used, it is spelt wassels. Wassal is employed by Shakspere in the strict mean. ing of drunken revelry; and that could scarcely be called “ lascivious." On the contrary, “ leave thy lascivious vassals". expresses Cæsar's contempt for Cleopatra and her minions, who were strictly the vassals of Antony, the queen being oủe of his tributaries.

Did show ourselves i' the field; and, to that end,
Assemble me 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.
Cæs.

Till which encounter,
It is my business too. Farewell.
Lep. Farewell, my lord : What you shall know

meantime
Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,
To let me be partaker.
Cæs.

Doubt not, sir;
I knew it for my bond.

(Exeunt.

SCENE V.-Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAs, and Mardian.

Cleo. Charmian,
Char. Madam.

Cleo. Ha, ha !
Give me to drink mandragora.
Char.

Why, madam?
Cleo. That I might sleep out this great gap of time
My Antony is away.
Char.

You think of him too much.
Cleo. 0, 't is treason!
Char.

Madam, I trust not so.
Cleo. Thou, eunuch ! Mardian!
Mar.

What 's your highness' pleasure ?
Cle). Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure
In aught an eunuch has: 'T is well for thee,
That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts
May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections ?

Mar. Yes, gracious madam.

Cleo. Indeed ?

Mar. Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing But what indeed is honest to be done : Yet I have fierce affections, and think What Venus did with Mars Cleo.

O Charmian, Where think’st thou he is now ? Stands he, or sits he? Or does he walk? or is he on nis 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 a 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 Phæbus' 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.

Enter ALEXAS. Aler.

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

* Burgonet-helmet.

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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 an arm-gaunt" steed,
Who neigh'd so bigh, 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

extremes Of hot and cold : he was nor sad nor merry.

Cleo. O well-divided disposition !-Note him,
Note him, good Charmian, 't is 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 ! -Beest 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 chok'd 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 !

a Arm-gaunt, of which we have no other example, conveys the notion of a steed fierce and terrible in armour.

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