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
[gers!
When shrill-tongu'd Fulvia scolds.-The messen-
ANT. Let Rome in Tiber 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,
On pain of punishment, the world to weet,
We stand up peerless.

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.

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 everything 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.(1) Come, my queen; Last night you did desire it.—Speak not to us.

[Exeunt ANT. and CLEOP., 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, who Thus speaks of him at Rome: but I will hope Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy!

SCENE II.-The same.

Palace.

[Exeunt.

Another Room in the

(*) First folio, who.

and Alexas." And Steevens thought it possible that "Lam prius, Rannius, Lucillius," &c. might have been speakers in the scene as it was originally written by the poet, who afterwards, when omitting the speeches, forgot to erase the names.

f change his horns with garlands !] So the old text; to "change his horns," may mean to vary or garnish them. The modern reading, however, of charge, suggested by Southern and Warburton, is certainly very plausible.

I love long life better than figs.] This was a proverbial saying. my children shall have no rames:] That is, be illegitimate.

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 Herod of Jewry may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius Cæsar, 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 prov'd 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.

с

CHAR. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch.

c And fertile every wish,-] A correction of Theobald or War burton. The old copy has, "And foretel," &c.

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, to-night, shall be drunk to bed.

IRAS. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else.

CHAR. E'en as the o'erflowing 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 particulars. 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,

a

CHAR. Our worser thoughts heaven mend!— Alexas, come, his fortune, his fortune! -O, 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 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-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded: therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly!

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

A Roman thought hath struck him.—Enobarbus,— ENO. Madam?

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

ALEX. Here, at your service.-My lord approaches.

CLEO. We will not look upon him : : go with us. [Exeunt

Enter ANTONY, with a Messenger and Attendants.

MESS. Fulvia thy wife first came into the field. ANT. Against my brother Lucius?

MESS.

Ay:
But soon that war had end, and the time's state
Made friends of them, jointing their force 'gainst
Cæsar;

Whose better issue in the war, from Italy,
Upon the first encounter, drave them.
ANT.
Well, what worst
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 thes
Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death,
I hear him as he flatter'd.

When our quick winds lie still; and our is

told us,

d

Is as our earing! Fare thee well a while. MESS. At your noble pleasure.

[Exit.

ANT. From Sicyon ho, the news! Speak

there!

1 ATT. The man from Sicyon,-is there such an one?

(*) Old text, how.

to, "When our quick minds," &c. perhaps without necessity. "Quick winds" may mean, quickening winds; and Johnson's explanation of the passage,-"that man, not agitated by censure, like soil not ventilated by quick winds, produces more evil than good," is possibly the true one. dearing!] Ploughing.

Let him appear.These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,

Or lose myself in dotage.

Enter another Messenger.

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 womer 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.

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.

(*) Old text inserts, an.

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.

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

a

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,

b Which, like the courser's hair, &c.] An allusion to the vulgar superstition that a horse hair left in water or dung became a living serpent.

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 ALEX. 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, forbear; a

d

In time we hate that which we often fear.
But here comes Antony.
CLEO.

I am sick and sullen.

But bid farewell, and go: when you su'd staying,

e To such whose place is under us, requires, &c.] The lection

of the second folio. In the first, we have,

"To such whose places under us require," &c.

d I wish, forbear;] I commend forbearance.