The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare, from the Text of Johnson, Stevens and Reed. With Glossarial Notes, His Life, and a Critique on His Genius and Writings, by N. Rowe

Phil. 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 tem-

per;

And is become the bellows, and the fan,
To cool a gypsy'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 bournt how far to be belov❜d. Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

+ Renounces.

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 Cesar have not sent
His powerful mandate to you, Do this, or this;
Take int 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 Cesar; therefore hear it, Antony.

Where's Fulvia's process! Cesar's, I would say?-Both?

Call in the messengers.-As I am Egypt's queen,

Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine [shame, Is Cesar's homager; else so thy cheek pays When shrill-tongu'd Fulvia scolds.-The messengers.

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 bind + Subdue, conquer. ‡ Summons.

+ Bound or limit.

* Offends.

On pain of punishment, the world to weet,* We stand up peerless.

Cleo. Excellent Falsehood!

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

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 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 adinir'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 Cesar 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,

Image: find me to marry me with Octavius Cesar, 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 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.

Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers.

Alex. We'll know all our fortunes.

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

Iras. There's a 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 particu

lars.

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.

Alexas,-come, his fortune, his fortune.-0, Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend! 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 of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee! me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter

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.

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.

Cleo. Saw you my lord?
Eno. No, lady.

Cleo. Was he not here?
Char. No, madam.

Cleo. He was dispos'd to mirth; but on the sudden

[bus,A Roman thought hath struck him.-EnobarEno. Madam.

Cleo. Seek him, and bring him hither. Where's Alexas?

Alex. Here, madam, at your service.--My lord approaches.

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
Importeth thee to know, this bears. [serious
[Gives a letter.
Ant. Forbear me.- [Exit MESSENGER.
There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire
What our contempts do often hurl from us, [it:
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. We see how mortal an unkindness is to them; Eno. Why, then, we kill all our women: 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 patra, catching but the least noise of this, dies cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleoinstantly; 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 cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and of nothing but the finest part of pure love: We than almanacks can report: this cannot be tears; they are greater storms and tempests 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.

sacrifice. Eno. Why, Sir, give the gods a thankful When it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shows to in, that when old robes are worn out, there are man the tailors of the earth; comforting therewomen but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, members to make new. If there were no more and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned with consolation; your old smock the tears live in an onion, that should water brings forth a new petticoat: and, indeed,

this sorrow.

Ant. The business she hath broached in the Cannot endure my absence. [state,

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 offi

Have notice what we purpose. I shall break
The cause of our expedience to the queen,
And get her lovet 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 Cesar, 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
[life,
Which, like the courser'st hair, hath yet but
And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure,
+ Horse.

breeding,

* Expedition.

+ Leave.

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 nothing.

Cleo. Thou teachest like a fool the way to lose him.

Char. Tempt him not so too far: I wish for

bear;

In time we hate that which we often fear.
Enter ANTONY.

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,

[gods,

Ant. Hear me, queen:

The strong necessity of time commands
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,
[Pompey,
Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace
Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd
Into the hearts of such as have not thriv'd
Upon the present state, whose numbers threat-
[purge
And quietness, grown sick of rest, would
By any desperate change: My more parti-
cular,

en ;

And that which most with you should safet
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 awak'd; at the last, best:
See, when, and where she died.

Cleo. O most false love!

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 advice: Now, by the

fire,

Though you in swearing shake the thronged
Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous mad-But

ness,

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, [ing, But bid farewell, and go: when you sued stayThen was the time for words: No going

then ;

this is not the best: Look, pr'ythee,
Cleo. And target,-Still he mends;
How this Herculean Roman does become
Charmian,
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 lov'd, but there's not it; That you know well: Something it is I would,Eternity was in our lips, and eyes; [poor,, my obliviontt is a very Antony, Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so But was a racet of heaven: They are so still, Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world, Art turn'd the greatest liar.

Ant. How now, lady!

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,

Cleo. I would, I had thy inches; thou To bear such idleness so near the heart

shouldst know,

There were a heart in Egypt.

mon body,

Since my becomings kill me, when they do not | Comes dear'd, by being lack'd.* This com-
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 laurel'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.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.-Rome.—An apartment in CESAR'S

House.

Enter OCTAVIUS CESAR, LEPIDUS, and

Attendants.

Like a vagabond flag upon the stream,
Goes to, and back, lackeying the varying tide,
To rot itself with motion.

Mess. Cesar, I bring thee word,
Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,
Make the sea serve them: which they eart 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 re-
volt:

No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon
Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes
Than could his war resisted.
[more,

Ces. Antony,

Ces. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth Leave thy lascivious wassals. When thou once know,

It is not Cesar'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 man-

Than Cleopatra; nor the queen Ptolemy [or
More womanly than he hardly gave audience,
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;t what he cannot
Than what he chooses.
[change,
Ces. 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 be-

comes 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,
[loud
That drums him from his sport, and speaks as
As his own state, and ours,-'tis to be chid
As we rate boys; who, being mature in know-
ledge,
[sure,

Pawn their experience to their present plea-
And so rebel to judgement.

Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st
Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel
Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st
Though daintily brought up, with patience
against,
[more
The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle**
Than savages could suffer: Thou didst drink
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,
[Alps
The barks of trees thou browsed'st; on the
Which some did die to look on; And all this
It is reported, thou did'st eat strange flesh,
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.

Ces. 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, Cesar,

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

Ces. 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.

Ces. Doubt not, Sir;
I knew it for my bond.tt

[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 My Antony is away.

Char. You think of him

Too much.

Cleo. O, treason!

Char. Madam, I trust, not so.

Cleo. Thou eunuch! Mardian!

Mar. What's your highness' pleasure?

[time,

* Endeared by being missed. + Plough. + Turn pale. Ruddy. Feastings; in the old copy it is vaissailes, ¶ Urine. ** Stagnant, slimy water. A sleepy potion.

i. c. vassals.

†† My bounden duty.

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare, from the Text of Johnson, Stevens ...