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 temper,
And is become the bellows and the fan
To cool a gipsy's lust.

Flourish. Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, her
Ladies, the Train, with Eunuchs fanning her.
Look, where they come to
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 beloved. Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

TAURUS, lieutenant-general to Cæsar. CANIDIUS, lieutenant-general to Antony. SILIUS, an officer in Ventidius's army. EUPHRONIUS, an ambassador from Antony to Cæsar.

ALEXAS,

MARDIAN, a Eunuch, attendants on CleoSELEUCUS,

DIOMEDES,

A Soothsayer.

A Clown.

patra.

CLEOPATRA, queen of Egypt.

OCTAVIA, sister to Cæsar and wife to Antony. CHARMIAN,

IRAS,

} attendants on Cleopatra.

Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.

SCENE: In several parts of the Roman empire.

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 thy cheek pays
shame

31

When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The mes

sengers!

Ant. Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch

Of the ranged 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,
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.

40

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 to-night? 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 admired! No messenger, but thine; and all alone

50

Upon the first encounter, drave them.
Ant.

Well, what worst? Mess. The nature of bad news infects the teller. 99

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. Labienus

Mess.
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 wouldst say,-
Mess.

O, my lord! Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue:

110

Name Cleopatra as she is call'd 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 minds lie still; and our ills told us

Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile.
Mess. At your noble pleasure.
Ant. From Sicyon, ho, the news!
there!

[Exit. Speak First Att. The man from Sicyon,--is there such an one?

Sec. Att. He stays upon your will.
Ant.
Let him appear.
These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, 120
Or lose myself in dotage.

Enter another Messenger.
What are you?

Sec. Mess. Fulvia thy wife is dead.
Ant.

Where died she?

Sec. Mess. In Sicyon: Her length of sickness, with what else more

serious

Importeth thee to know, this bears.

Ant.

[Gives a letter. Forbear me. [Exit Sec. Messenger. There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it:

129

What our contempt doth 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 shoved
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!
Re-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.

140

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 a celerity in dying.

Ant. She is cunning past man's thought. 150 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 blest withal would have discredited your travel. Ant. Fulvia is 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

Cannot endure my absence.

179

Eno. And the business you have broached here cannot be without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode.

190

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 leave 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,

199

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. The same. Another room. Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS.

Cleo. Where is he?

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 farther 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: 20
Would she had never given you leave to come!
Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here:
1 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.

Cleopatra,

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

Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness,

To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, 30 Which break themselves in swearing!

Ant.

Most sweet queen,

Cleo. Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going,

But Lid 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: they are so still,
Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,
Art turn'd the greatest liar.

How now, lady!

Ant. Cleo. I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know

There were a heart in Egypt.

Ant.

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

40

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 60
The garboils she awaked; 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 received shall be.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepared to
know

The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,
As
you shall give the advice. 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.

70

My precious queen, forbear: And give true evidence to his love, which stands An honourable trial.

Cleo.

So Fulvia told me. I prithee, turn aside and weep for her; Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears Belong to Egypt: 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, prithee, Charmian,

How this Herculean Roman does become
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 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.

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,

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;

19

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

With keels of every kind: many hot inroads 50
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.

Cæs.
Antony,
Leave thy lascivious wassails. 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 cough at: thy palate then
did deign

61

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.
'Tis pity of him.
Cas. 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.

70

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.

Cas.

I knew it for my bond.

Doubt not, sir;

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN.

Lep.

Mess. Thy biddings have been done; and every hour,

Most noble Cæsar, shalt thou have report
How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea;
And it appears he is beloved of those
That only have fear'd Cæsar: to the ports
The discontents repair, and men's reports
Give him much wrong'd.

Cæs.
It hath been taught us from the primal state, 41
That he which is was wish'd until he were;

I should have known no less.

Cleo.

Charmian!