To cool a gipsey'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 belov'd.
Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven,
new earth.

I knew this husband, which, you say, must change
his horns with garlands!
Alex. Soothsayer!

Cleo. Perchance,
You must not stay here longer, your dismission
Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony!-
Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's, I would say?
-Both? -

Call in the messengers! As I am Egypt's queen,
Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine
Is Caesar's homager: else so thy cheek pays shame,
When shrill-tongu'd Fulvia scolds. The mes-
sengers!

Sooth. Your will?

Char. Is this the man?-Is't you, sir, that know
things?

Sooth. In nature's infinite book of secrecy
A little I can read.

Ant. Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide arch
Of the rang'd 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; when such a mutual pair, [Embracing.
And such a twain can do't, in which, I biud,
On pain of punishment, the world to weet,
We stand up peerless.

Cleo. Excellent falsehood!

Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?-
I'll seem the fool, I am not; Antony.
Will be himself.

Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra.

Alex. Show him your hand!

Enter ENOBARBUS.

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

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. Fye, wrangling queen!

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. Hash!

Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than belov'd.
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
Herold of Jewry may do homage: find me to marry
me with Octavius Caesar, and companion me with
my mistress.

Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,
To weep: whose every passion fully strives
To make itself, in thee, fair, and admir'd!
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 Ant. and Cleo. with their train.
Dem. Is Caesar with Antonius priz'd 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'm full sorry,

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
fortune,

Than that which is to approach.

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.

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.

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's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else.

Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a Soothsayer.
Char. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing
Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where's the
soothsayer, that you praised so to the queen? O, that

Char. Even as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth

Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas, -come, his fortune, his fortune! O, let him marry a woman, that caunot 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-wiv'd, so it is a deadly sorrow to

behold a foul knave uncuckolded; therefore, dear The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly! Char. Amen!

Alex. Lo, now! if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but they'd do't.

Eno. Hush! here comes Antony.
Char. Not he, the queen.

Enter CLEOPATRA.

Mess. The nature of bad news infects the teller.
Ant. When it concerns the fool, or coward.-On:
Things, that are past, are done, with me.-'Tis thus
Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death,
I hear him, as he flatter'd.

Mess. Labienus

(This is stiff news) hath, with his Parthian force,
Extended Asia from Euphrates;

His conquering banner shook, from Syria
To Lydia, and to Ionia;

Whilst

Ant. Antony, thou would'st say,

Mess. O, my lord!

The hand 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 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 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,

Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general Cannot endure my absence. tongue;

Name Cleopatra as she's call'd in Rome:

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 a-while!
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. Let him appear!·
These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,
Enter another Messenger.

Or lose myself in dotage.- What are you?
2 Mess. Fulvia, thy wife, is dead.
Ant. Where died she?

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

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 coutriving friends in Rome
Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius
Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands
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 hence.
Eno. I shall do't.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.
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 Alexas.
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 no-
thing.

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.
Enter ANTONY.

But here comes Antony.

Cleo. I am sick, and sullen.

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

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.

Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me free-
dom,

It does from childishness.
Ant. She's dead, my queen.

Can Fulvia die?

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!

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,

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

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

true,

Though you in swearing shake the throned gods,

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
Sir, you and I must part,
Sir, you and I have lov'd,

word!

but that's not it:
but there's not it;

Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness,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

Cleo. I would, I had thy inches; thou should'st Sit laurel'd victory! and smooth success

E

R

1

More womanly, than he: hardly gave audience, or
Vouchsaf'd to think, he had partners. You shall find
there

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 purchas'd; what he cannot change,
Than what he chooses.

Caes. 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
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.

Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek
So much as lank'd not.
Lep. It is pity of him.

Caes. Let his shames quickly

Drive him to Rome! 'tis time we twain
Did show ourselves i'the field; and, to that end,
Assemble we immediate council! Pompey
Thrives in our idleness.

Lep. To-morrow, Caesar,

I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly
Both what by sea and land I can be able,
To 'front this present time.

Cae. Till which encounter,

It is my business too. Farewell!

Lep. Farewell, my lord! What you shall know mean
time

Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,
To let me be partaker.
Caes. Doubt not, sir!
I knew it for

my bond.

[Exeunt.

My Antony is away.

Char. You think of him

Mess. Thy biddings have been done; and every Too much.

hour,

Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report,
How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea,
And it appears, he is belov'd of those

That only have fear'd Caesar: to the ports
The discontents repair, and men's reports
Give him much wrong'd.

Caes. 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 dear'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. Caesar, 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.
Caes. Antony,

Leave thy lascivious wassals! 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,

Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he?

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 Caesar,
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;

Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did There would he anchor his aspect, and die

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,)

With looking on his life.

Enter ALEXAS.
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?

Men. Caesar and Lepidus

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

gether,
Looking for Antony: but all charms of love,
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.

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.

SCENE I. - Messina. A room in POMPEY's house.
Enter POMPEY, MEXECRATES, and Menas.

Pom. If the great gods be just, they shall assist
The deeds of justest men.

Mene. Know, worthy Pompey,

That what they do delay, they not deny.

Pom. Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays Eno. Every time
The thing we sue for.