SCENE I.-ALEXANDRIA. A ROOM IN
CLEOPATRA'S PALACE.

Enter Demetrius and Philo.

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 had burst
The buckles on his breast, reneges1 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 wanton'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 2 how far to be belov'd. Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

Enter an Attendant.

Att. News, my good lord, from Rome. Ant.

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.

Ant.

How, my love!

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

Call in the messengers. -As I am Egypt's queen, Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine Is Cæsar's homager: else so thycheek pays shame, When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds.--The mes

sengers.

Ant. Let Rome in Tybermelt! and the wide arch Of the rang'd empire fall! Here is my space; Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alike Feasts 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 bind, 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.

Cleo. Nay, hear them, Antony.

There's not a minute of our lives should stretch

1 Subdue, 2 Summons. 8 Know. 4 Consume.

Without some pleasure now: What sport tonight?

Cleo. Hear the ambassadors.
Ant.

Fie, wrangling queen!
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
The qualities of people. Come, my queen; [note
Last night you did desire it:-Speak not to us.

[Exeunt Ant. and Cleo. with their Train. Dem. Is Cæsar 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 am full sorry,
That he approves the common liar,1 who
Thus speaks of him at Rome: But I will hope
Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy!
[Exeunt.

SCENE II. - ANOTHER ROOM.
Enter Charmian, Iras, Alexas, and a

Soothsayer.

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

Char. Even as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine.

Iras. Go, you wild fellow, 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.

Ir. 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 heavens mend! Alexas, come, his fortune, his fortune.-O, let him marry, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! And let her die, and give him a worse! and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave. 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! Dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune himm accordingly!

Char. Amen.

Enter Enobarbus.

Eno. Bring in the banquet quickly: wine

Char. Good sir, give me good fortune.

Cleopatra's health to drink.

Eno. Madam.

Sooth. I make not, but foresee.

Cleo. Seek him and bring him hither. Where's

Char. Pray, then, foresee me one.

Alexas?

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

Char. He means, in flesh.

Alex. Here, madam, at your service.-Mylord approaches.

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

Alex. Vex not his prescience; be attentive.
Char. Hush!

So. You shall be more beloving, than beloved. Cha. 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.

S. You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. C. O excellent! I love long life better than figs. So. You have seen and proved a fairer former Than that which is to approach. [fortune Char. Then, 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.

1 (Fame.)

Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue;

Name Cleopatra as she's called in Rome;
Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase: and taunt my faults
With such full license, as both truth and malice
Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth
weeds,

When our quick winds lie still2; and our ills3 told us,

Is as our earing.4 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.

2 Mess. In Sicyon:

Where died she?

[serious Her length of sickness, with what else more Importeth thee to know, this bears.

Ant.

[Gives a Letter.

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 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 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.

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 almanacks can report: this cannot be cun1 Over-run. 2 When we are untroubled. 3 Faults. 4 Is what earing (ploughing) is to the soil.

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 others 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; and, indeed, the tears live in an onion, that should water this sorrow. A. 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 propose. I shall break The cause of our expediencel 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 Pompeius Hath given the dare to Cæsar, 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.

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 does:

I did not send you2:-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.
1 Expedition.

2 Look as if I did not send you.

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 domestick powers (strength,
Breeds scrupulous faction: The hated, grown to
Are newlygrown 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, would purge
By any desperate change: My more particular,
And that which most with you should safe my
Is Fulvia's death.
[going,

Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me freedom,

It does from childishness: - Can Fulvia die? 1 Eyebrows, 2 Flavour. 3 Gate,

Ant. She's dead, my queen: Look here, and, at thy sovereign leisure, read The garboils1 she awak'd; 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 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 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 Egypt2: 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, CharmiHow this Herculean Roman does become [an, The carriage of his chafe.3 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.

[not

C. You are too indulgent: Let us grant, it is Amiss to press 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 unworthy: 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.

Lep.

Enter a Messenger.

Here's more news.

Did famine follow: whom thou fought'st against
Though daintily brought up, with patience more
Than savages could suffer: Thou didst drink
What 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.

Cæs. 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.

Most noble Cæsar, 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 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 [body,

love, Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common Like a vagabond flag upon the stream, Goes to, and back, lackeying the varying tide, To rot itself with motion.

Antony, Leave thy lascivious wassels. When thou once Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel

Cleo. Charmian,

Char. Madam.

Madam, I trust, not so.

O Charmian,

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

Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?

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 arm3
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 Phœbus' amorous pinches black,
Andwrinkleddeepin time? Broad-fronted Cæsar,
When thou wast here above the ground, I was
A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey
Wouldstand, and make his eyes grow in mybrow;
There would he anchor his aspéct, and die
With looking on his life.