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CLEOPATRA arriving at Taurus.

“... 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 Autes 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'erpicturing that Venus, where we see The fancy outwork nature: on each side her Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, With divers colour'd fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, And what they undid, did.

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
Swells 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 wharfs. 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 vacancy,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,
And made a gap in nature.”

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA,

11.

ANTONY taking leave of CLEOPATRA on hearing of

the death of his wife FULVIA.

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;
Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor
But was a race of heaven.
ANT.

Hear me, queen:
The strong necessity of time commands
Our services a while; but my full heart
Remains in use with you.

My more particular,
And that which most with you should safe my going,
Is Fulvia's death.
CLEO.

Courteous lord, one word.
Sir, you and I must party—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 !"

Act I. S. 3.

III.

The meeting between OCTAVIUS CÆSAR and

ANTONY.

66 CÆSAR.

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

You have broken
The article of your oath; which you shall never
Have tongue to charge me with.
LEP.

Soft, Cæsar.
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 ? -
CÆSAR. To lend me arms, and aid, when I required

them; The which you both denied.”

Act II. S. 2.

IV.

The marriage of ANTONY with OCTAVIA.

“... He's married to Octavia.

Act II. S. 5. Cæsar. You take from me a great part of myself; Use me well in it.”

• ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.

The return of OCTAVIA to Rome.

“ Oct. Hail, Cæsar, and my lord ! hail, most dear

Cæsar!
CÆSAR. That ever I should call thee cast-away!
Oct. You have not call'd me so, nor have you cause.
CÆSAR. Why have you stol'n upon us thus? You come

not
Like Cæsar's sister: The wife of Antony
Should have an army for an usher, and
The neighs of horse to tell of her approach,
Long ere she did appear; the trees by the way,
Should have borne men; and expectation fainted,
Longing for what it had not: nay, the dust
Should have ascended to the roof of heaven,
Raised by your populous troops : But you are come
A market-maid to Rome.

Good my lord,
To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did it
On my free will.

AGRIPPA. Welcome, lady.
MECÆNAS.

Welcome, dear madam. Each heart in Rome does love and pity you.”

Act III. S. 6.

Oct.

VI.

ANTONY perceiving CLEOPATRA's flight from the

battle of Actium.

“ The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral, With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder.

She once being loofd,
The noble ruin of her magic, Antony,
Claps on his sea-wing, and like a doting mallard,
Leaving the fight in height, flies after her.”

Act III. S. 8.

VII.

The meeting after the battle.

Cleo.

O my lord, my lord !
Forgive my fearful sails ! I little thought,
You would have follow'd.
ANT.

Egypt, thou knew'st too well
My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings,
And thou should'st tow me after.
Cleo.

O, my pardon !"

he surings,

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