Introductory matter

1 ^note.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ Antony [Mark Antony], triumvir. Octavius Cæsar [Octavius Caesar], triumvir. Lepidus, triumvir. Sextus Pompeius. Domitius Enobarbus, friend to Antony. Ventidius, friend to Antony. Eros, friend to Antony. Scarus, friend to Antony. Dercetas, friend to Antony. Demetrius, friend to Antony. Philo, friend to Antony. Mæcenas [Maecenas], friend to Cæsar. Agrippa, friend to Cæsar. Dolabella, friend to Cæsar. Proculeius, friend to Cæsar. Thyreus, friend to Cæsar. Gallus, friend to Cæsar. Menas, friend to Sextus Pompeius. Menecrates, friend to Sextus Pompeius. Varrius, friend to Sextus Pompeius. 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, attendant to Cleopatra. Mardian, a eunuch, attendant on Cleopatra. Seleucus, attendant on Cleopatra. Diomedes, attendant on Cleopatra. A Soothsayer. A Clown. Cleopatra, queen of Egypt. Octavia, sister to Cæsar, and wife to Antony. Charmian, attendant on Cleopatra. Iras, attendant on Cleopatra. Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants. [Attendant], [Attendant 1], [Attendant 2], [Messenger], [Messenger 2], [Servant 1], [Servant 2], [Servitors], [Soldier], [Soldier 1], [Soldier 2], [Soldier 3], [Soldier 4], [Captains], [Guard], [Guard 1], [Guard 2], [Guard 3], [Aegyptian] Scene: In several parts of the Roman empire.

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. ACT I. ^note Scene I. [Footnote: Alexandria. A room in Cleopatra's palace. ^note Enter Demetrius and Philo.

Phi.
'Nay, but this dotage of our general's ^note
O'erflows ^note 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, ^note
The office and devotion of their view
Upon a tawny front: his captain's ^note heart,
Which in the scuffles of great fights ^note hath burst
The buckles on his breast, reneges ^note all temper,
And is become the bellows and the fan
To cool ^note a gipsy's lust. Flourish. ^note Enter Antony, Cleopatra, her Ladies, the Train, with Eunuchs fanning her. ^note
Look, where they come: ^note

Take but good note, and you shall see in him
The triple pillar of the world ^note transform'd
Into a strumpet's fool ^note: 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. Enter an Attendant. ^note

Att. ^note
News, my good lord, from Rome. ^note

Ant.
Grates me: ^note the sum. ^note

Cleo.
Nay, hear them, ^note Antony:
Fulvia perchance is angry; or, who knows
If the scarce-bearded Cæsar have not sent
His powerful mandate to you, ‘Do ^note this, or this;
Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that;
Perform't, or else we damn ^note 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? ^{note note}
Call in the messengers. As I am ^note Egypt's queen,
Thou blushest, Antony, and that blood of thine
Is Cæsar's homager: else ^note so thy cheek pays ^note shame

When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers! ^note

Ant.
Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch
Of the ranged ^note 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. ^note
And such a twain can do't, in which I bind,
On ^note pain of punishment, the world to weet
We stand up peerless.

Cleo. ^note
Excellent ^note falsehood!
Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?
I'll ^note seem the fool I am not; Antony
Will be himself. ^note

Ant.
But stirr'd by Cleopatra.
Now, ^note for the love of Love and her ^note 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 ^note sport to-night?

Cleo.
Hear the ambassadors.

Ant.
Fie, wrangling queen!
Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,
To weep; whose ^note every passion fully ^note strives
To make itself, in thee, fair and admired!
No messenger but thine; ^note and all alone
To-night ^note 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 ^note Ant. and Cleo. with their train.

Dem.
Is Cæsar with Antonius prized so slight ^note?

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 ^note
That he approves the common liar, who
Thus speaks of him ^note at Rome: but I will hope
Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy! ^note [Exeunt. ^note Scene II. [Footnote: The same. Another room. ^note Enter Charmian, Iras, Alexas, and a Soothsayer. ^note

Char.

Lord ^note Alexas, sweet ^note Alexas, most any thing Alexas, almost most ^note absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer that you praised so ^note to the queen? O, that I knew this husband, which, you say, must charge ^note his horns with ^note garlands! ^{note note}

Alex.

Soothsayer! ^note

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. ^note

Alex.
Show him your hand. Enter Enobarbus. ^note

Eno. ^note

Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough Cleopatra's health to drink.

Char.

Good sir, give me good fortune.

Sooth.

I ^note 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. ^note

Iras.

No, you shall paint when you are old ^note.

Char.

Wrinkles forbid!

Alex.

Vex not his prescience ^note; be attentive.

Char.

Hush!

Sooth.

You shall be more beloving than beloved.

Char.

I had rather heat my liver with drinking. ^note

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 ^note 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 proved a fairer former fortune
Than that which is to approach. ^note

Char.

Then belike my children shall have no names: prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have? ^note

Sooth.
If every of your wishes had a womb,
And fertile ^note every wish, a million. ^note

Char.

Out ^note, fool! I forgive thee for a witch.

Alex.

You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes.

Char.

Nay, come, tell ^note Iras hers. ^note

Alex.

We'll know all our fortunes.

Eno.

Mine and most of our fortunes to-night shall be— ^notedrunk to bed.

Iras.

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

Char.

E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus ^note 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. Prithee, tell her but a worky-day fortune.

Sooth.

Your fortunes are alike.

Iras.

But how, but how? ^note 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.

Char.

Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas,—

come, ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note, and fortune him accordingly!

Char. ^note

Amen.

Alex.

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

Eno.
Hush! here comes Antony.

Char.
Not he; the queen. Enter Cleopatra. ^note

Cleo.
Saw you my lord? ^note

Eno.
No, lady.

Cleo.
Was he not here?

Char.
No, madam.

Cleo.
He was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden
A Roman ^note thought hath ^note struck him. Enobarbus! ^{note note}

Eno.
Madam?

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

Alex.
Here, ^note at your service. My ^note lord approaches. ^note

Cleo.
We will not look upon him: go with us. ^note [Exeunt. ^note Enter Antony with a Messenger and Attendants. ^note

Mess.
Fulvia thy wife first came into the field. ^note

Ant.
Against my brother Lucius? ^note

Mess.
Ay: ^note
But soon that war had end, and the time's state
Made friends of them, jointing their force 'gainst ^note Cæsar, ^note
Whose better issue in the war from Italy ^note
Upon the first encounter drave them.

Ant.
Well, what worst? ^note

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 ^note lie death,
I hear him as ^note 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— ^note

Ant.
Antony, thou wouldst say,— ^note

Mess.
O, ^note my lord!

Ant.
Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue:
Name Cleopatra as she is ^note call'd in Rome; ^note
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 ^note lie still, and our ills ^note told us
Is as our earing ^note. Fare thee well awhile. ^note

Mess.
At your noble pleasure. [Exit. ^note

Ant.
From Sicyon ^note, ho, the ^note news! Speak there!

First Att. ^note
The man from Sicyon ^note, is there such an ^note one? ^note

Sec. Att. ^note
He stays upon your will.

Ant.
Let him appear.
These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,
Or lose myself in dotage. Enter ^note another Messenger.
What are you?

Sec. Mess. ^note
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. ^note [Gives a letter. ^note

Ant.
Forbear me. [Exit Sec. Messenger. ^note
There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire ^note it:
What our contempts do ^{note note} often hurl from us, ^note
We wish it ours again; the present pleasure,
By revolution lowering ^note, 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 ^note queen break off:
Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
My idleness doth hatch. How now! ^note Enobarbus! Re-enter ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note; 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 ^note.

Ant.

Fulvia is dead.

Eno.

Sir? ^note

Ant.

Fulvia is dead.

Eno.

Fulvia! ^note

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 ^note to man ^note the tailors ^note of the earth, comforting ^note therein ^note, that when old robes are worn out there are members ^note to make new. If there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the case ^note to be lamented: this grief is crowned with consolation; your old smock brings forth ^note a new petticoat: and indeed the tears live ^note 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 ^note without you; especially that of Cleopatra's ^note, which wholly depends on your abode.

Ant.
No more light ^note answers. Let our officers ^note
Have notice what we purpose. I shall break
The cause of our expedience to the queen
And get her leave ^note to part. For not alone
The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches,
Do ^note strongly speak to us, but the letters too
Of many our contriving friends in Rome
Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius
Hath ^note 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 ^note, hath yet but life
And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure,
To such whose place is under us, requires ^note
Our ^note quick remove from hence.

Eno.
I shall ^note do't. ^note [Exeunt.

^note Scene III. [Footnote: The same. Another room. ^note Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas. ^note

Cleo.
Where is he? ^note

Char.
I ^note did not see him since.

Cleo.
See where he is, who's ^note with him, what he does: ^note
I did not send you: if ^note you find him sad,
Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report
That I am sudden sick: quick ^note, and return. [Exit Alexas. ^note

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 ^note way to lose him.

Char.
Tempt him not so too far; I wish, ^note forbear:
In time we hate that which we often fear.
But here comes Antony. Enter Antony. ^note

Cleo.
I am ^note sick and sullen.

Ant.
I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,— ^note

Cleo.
Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall: ^note
It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature
Will not sustain it.

Ant.
Now, my dearest queen,— ^note

Cleo.
Pray you, stand farther ^note 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: ^note
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— ^note

Cleo.
O, never was there queen
So mightily betray'd ^note! yet at the first
I saw the treasons ^note planted.

Ant.
Cleopatra,— ^note

Cleo.
Why should I think you can be mine and true,
Though you in ^note swearing shake the throned gods,
Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, ^note
To be entangled with those mouth-made vows,
Which break themselves in swearing!

Ant.
Most sweet queen,— ^{note note}

Cleo.
Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going,
But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying, ^note
Then was the time for words: no going then;
Eternity was in our lips and eyes,
Bliss in our brows' bent, none our parts ^note so poor
But was a race ^note of heaven: they are so still,
Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,
Art turn'd the greatest ^note liar.

Ant.
How now, lady!

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 ^note 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 domestic powers
Breed ^note scrupulous faction: the hated, grown to strength,
Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey,
Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace
Into the hearts of such as have not thrived ^note
Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;
And quietness grown sick of rest ^note would purge
By any desperate change. My more particular,
And that which most with you should safe ^note 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 awaked: at the last, best;
See when and where she died.

Cleo.
O most false love!
Where be the sacred vials ^note thou shouldst fill
With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,
In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be ^note.

Ant.
Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know
The purposes I bear, which are, or cease,
As you shall give the advice ^note. By ^note the fire
That quickens Nilus' slime ^note, I go from hence

Thy soldier, servant, making peace or war
As thou affect'st ^note.

Cleo.
Cut my lace, Charmian, come;
But let it be: I am quickly ill and well,
So Antony ^note loves.

Ant.
My precious queen, forbear;
And give true evidence ^note 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. ^note

Cleo.
You can do better yet; but this is meetly.

Ant.
Now, by my ^note sword,— ^note

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 ^note.

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 ^note oblivion is ^note a very Antony,
And I am all forgotten ^note.

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 ^note your sword
Sit laurel ^note victory! and smooth success
Be strew'd before your feet!

Ant.
Let us go. Come;
Our separation so abides and flies, ^note
That thou residing ^note here go'st ^note yet with me,
And I hence fleeting here remain with thee.
Away! [Exeunt. ^note Scene IV. [Footnote: Rome. Cæsar's house. ^note Enter Octavius Cæsar ^note, reading a letter, Lepidus, and their Train.

Cæs.
You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know,
It is not Cæsar's natural vice ^note to hate
Our ^note great competitor: from Alexandria
This is the news: he fishes, drinks and wastes
The lamps of night in revel ^note: is not more manlike ^note
Than Cleopatra, nor the queen of Ptolemy ^note
More womanly than he: hardly gave audience, or

Vouchsafed ^note to ^note think he had ^note partners: you shall find there
A man who is ^note the abstract ^note of all faults
That ^note all men follow. ^note

Lep.
I must not think there are ^note
Evils enow ^note to darken all his goodness: ^note
His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven,
More fiery ^note by night's blackness, ^note hereditary
Rather than purchased, what he cannot change
Than ^note what he chooses.

Cæs.
You are ^note too indulgent. Let us grant it is ^note not ^note
Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy ^note,
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 ^note of sweat: say this becomes him,—
As ^note his composure must be rare indeed
Whom these things cannot blemish,—yet must Antony
No way excuse his soils ^note, 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 ^note 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 ^note
As we rate ^note boys, who, being mature ^note in knowledge,
Pawn their experience to their present pleasure,
And so rebel to judgement. Enter a Messenger.

Lep.
Here's more news.

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 ^note
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 loved till ne'er worth ^note love, ^note
Comes dear'd ^note by being lack'd. This ^note common body,
Like to ^note a vagabond flag upon the stream,
Goes to and back, lackeying ^note the varying ^{note note} tide, ^note
To rot itself with motion.

Mess.
Cæsar, I bring thee word,
Menecrates ^note and Menas, famous pirates,
Make ^note the sea serve them, which they ear ^note 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 ^note:
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 ^note. When thou once
Wast ^note beaten from Modena ^{note note}, where thou slew'st
Hirtius ^note and Pansa ^note, consuls, at thy heel
Did famine follow; whom ^note 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 ^note
The roughest berry on the rudest hedge;
Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets,
The barks of trees thou browsedst ^note. 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 ^note lank'd ^note not.

Lep.
'Tis ^note pity of him.

Cæs.
Let his shames quickly
Drive him to Rome ^note: 'tis time ^note we twain
Did show ourselves i' the field; and to that end
Assemble we ^note immediate ^note council ^note: Pompey

Thrives in our idleness.

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

Cæs.
Till which encounter,
It is my business too. Farewell. ^{note note}

Lep.
Farewell, my lord: what you shall know meantime
Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,
To let ^note me be partaker. ^{note note}

Cæs.
Doubt ^note not, sir; ^note
I knew ^note it for my bond. ^{note note} [Exeunt. ^note Scene V. [Footnote: Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace. ^note Enter ^note Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardian.

Cleo.
Charmian! ^note

Char.
Madam?

Cleo.
Ha, ha!
Give me to drink mandragora ^note. ^note

Char.
Why, madam?

Cleo.
That I might sleep out this great gap of time
My ^note Antony is away.

Char.
You think of him too much.

Cleo.
O, 'tis treason! ^note

Char.
Madam, I trust, not so.

Cleo.
Thou, eunuch ^note Mardian!

Mar.
What's your highness' pleasure?

Cleo.
Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure
In aught an eunuch has: 'tis well for thee,
That, being unseminar'd ^note, thy freer thoughts
May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?

Mar.
Yes, gracious madam.

Cleo.
Indeed!

Mar.
Not in deed ^note, madam; for I can do nothing
But what indeed is honest to be done:
Yet have I fierce affections, and think
What Venus did with Mars.

Cleo.
O Charmian ^note,
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 movest?
The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm
And burgonet ^note of men ^note. 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 ^note on me,
That am with Phœbus' amorous pinches black
And wrinkled deep in time? ^{note note} Broad-fronted ^note Cæsar,
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;
There would he anchor his aspect and die
With looking on his life. Enter Alexas. ^note

Alex.
Sovereign of Egypt, hail!

Cleo.
How much unlike art thou ^note Mark Antony!
Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath
With his tinct gilded thee.
How goes it with ^note my brave Mark Antony?

Alex.
Last thing he did, dear queen,
He kiss'd—the last of many doubled kisses— ^note
This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart.

Cleo.
Mine ear must pluck it thence.

Alex.
‘Good friend ^note,’ quoth he,
‘Say, the firm ^note Roman to great Egypt sends
This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot,
To mend the petty present, I will piece ^note
Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the east,
Say thou, shall call her mistress.’ So he nodded,
And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt ^note steed,
Who ^note neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke
Was beastly ^note dumb'd ^note by him.

Cleo.
What, was he sad or merry?

Alex.
Like to the time o' the year between the extremes

Of hot and cold, he was nor sad ^note nor merry. ^note

Cleo.
O well divided disposition! Note him, ^note
Note him, good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him:
He was not sad, for he would shine on those
That make their looks by his; he was not merry,
Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay
In Egypt with his joy; but between both.
O heavenly mingle! Be'st thou sad or merry,
The violence of either thee becomes,
So does it no man ^note else. Met'st thou my posts?

Alex.
Ay, madam, twenty several messengers:
Why do you send so thick?

Cleo.
Who's born that day
When I forget to send to Antony,
Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian.
Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian,
Ever love Cæsar so? ^note

Char.
O that brave Cæsar!

Cleo.
Be choked with such another emphasis!
Say, the brave Antony.

Char.
The valiant Cæsar!

Cleo.
By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth,
If thou with Cæsar paragon again
My man of men.

Char.
By your most gracious pardon,
I sing but after you.

Cleo.
My salad ^note days,
When I was green in judgement: cold ^note in blood,
To say as I said then! But come, away;
Get me ink and paper:
He shall have every day a several greeting ^note,
Or I'll unpeople Egypt. ^note [Exeunt.

ACT II. ^note Scene I. [Footnote: Messina. Pompey's house. ^note Enter Pompey, Menecrates ^note, and Menas, in warlike manner ^note.

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

Mene. ^note
Know, worthy Pompey,
That what ^note they do delay, they not deny.

Pom.
Whiles ^note we are suitors to their throne, decays ^note
The thing we sue for. ^{note note}

Mene. ^note
We, ignorant of ourselves,
Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers
Deny us for our good; so find we profit
By losing of our prayers.

Pom.
I shall do well:
The people love me, and the sea is mine;
My powers are crescent ^{note note}, and my auguring hope
Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony
In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make
No wars without doors: Cæsar gets money where
He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both,
Of both is flatter'd, but he neither loves,

Nor either cares for him.

Men.
Cæsar and Lepidus
Are in the field: a mighty strength they carry. ^note

Pom.
Where have you this? 'tis false.

Men.
From Silvius, sir.

Pom.
He dreams: I know they are ^note in Rome together,
Looking for Antony. But all the ^note charms of love,
Salt Cleopatra, soften thy waned ^note lip!
Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both!
Tie up the libertine in a field ^{note note} of feasts,
Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks
Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite;
That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour ^note
Even till ^note a Lethe'd ^note dulness! ^note Enter Varrius. ^note
How now, Varrius!

Var.
This is most certain that I shall deliver:
Mark Antony is every hour in Rome
Expected: since he went from Egypt 'tis
A space for farther ^note travel.

Pom.
I could have given less matter
A better ear. Menas, I did not think
This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his helm
For such a petty war: his soldiership
Is twice the other twain: but let us rear
The higher our opinion, that our stirring
Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck

The ne'er-lust-wearied ^note Antony.

Men.
I cannot hope
Cæsar and Antony shall well greet together:
His wife that's ^note dead did trespasses to Cæsar;
His brother warr'd ^note upon him; although, I think,
Not moved by Antony.

Pom.
I know not, Menas,
How lesser enmities may give way to greater.
Were't not that we stand up against them all, ^note
'Twere pregnant they should square between themselves;
For they have entertained cause enough
To draw their swords: but how the fear of us
May cement ^note their divisions and bind up
The petty difference, we yet not know.
Be't as our gods will have't ^note! It only stands
Our lives upon to use our strongest hands.
Come, Menas. [Exeunt. ^note Scene II. [Footnote: Rome. ^note The house ^note of Lepidus. Enter Enobarbus and Lepidus.

Lep.
Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed,
And shall become you well, to entreat your captain
To soft and gentle speech.

Eno.
I shall entreat him
To answer like himself: if Cæsar move him,
Let Antony look over Cæsar's head
And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter,

Were I the wearer of Antonius' ^note beard,
I would not shave't to-day.

Lep.
'Tis not a time
For private stomaching. ^note

Eno.
Every time
Serves for the matter that is then born ^note in't. ^note

Lep.
But small to greater matters must give way.

Eno.
Not if the small come first.

Lep.
Your speech is passion:
But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes
The noble Antony. ^note Enter Antony and Ventidius.

Eno.
And yonder, Cæsar. Enter Cæsar, Mæcenas, ^note and Agrippa.

Ant.
If we compose well here, to Parthia:
Hark ^note, Ventidius.

Cæs.
I do not know,
Mæcenas; ask Agrippa. ^note

Lep.
Noble friends,
That which combined us was most great, and let not
A leaner action rend us. What's amiss,
May it be gently heard: when we debate
Our trivial difference loud, we do commit
Murder in healing wounds: then, noble partners,
The rather for I earnestly beseech,
Touch you ^note the sourest points with sweetest terms,
Nor curstness grow to the matter.

Ant.
'Tis spoken well.
Were we before our armies ^note and to fight,

I should do thus. [Flourish. ^note

Cæs.
Welcome to Rome.

Ant.
Thank you.

Cæs.
Sit.

Ant.
Sit, sir. ^note

Cæs.
Nay, then. ^note

Ant.
I learn, you take things ill which are not so,
Or being, concern you ^note not.

Cæs.
I must be laugh'd at,
If, or for nothing or a little, I ^{note note}
Should say myself offended, and with you
Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at, that I should
Once name you derogately ^note, when to sound ^note your name
It not concern'd me.

Ant.
My being in Egypt, Cæsar,
What was't to you? ^note

Cæs.
No more than my residing ^note here at Rome
Might be to you in Egypt: yet, if you there
Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt
Might be my question.

Ant.
How intend you, practised ^note?

Cæs.
You may be pleased to catch at mine intent
By what did here befal me ^note. Your wife and brother
Made wars upon me, and their contestation
Was theme ^note for you, ^{note note} you were the word of war.

Ant.
You do mistake your ^note business; my brother never
Did urge me in his ^note act: I did inquire it,
And have my learning from some true reports ^note
That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather
Discredit my authority with yours,
And make the wars alike against my stomach,
Having alike your ^note cause? ^note Of this my letters
Before did satisfy you. If you'll ^note patch a quarrel,
As matter whole you have not to make ^{note note} it with,
It must not be with this.

Cæs.
You praise yourself
By laying defects of judgement to me ^note, but
You patch'd ^note up your excuses ^note. ^note

Ant.
Not so, not so ^note;
I know you could not lack, I am ^note certain on't,
Very ^note necessity of this thought, that I,
Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought,
Could not with graceful ^note eyes attend those wars
Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife,
I would you had her spirit in ^note such ^note another:
The third o' the world is yours, which with a snaffle
You may pace easy, but not such a wife.

Eno.

Would we had all such wives, that the men might go to wars with the women!

Ant.
So much uncurbable, her ^note garboils, Cæsar,
Made out of her impatience, which not wanted
Shrewdness ^note of policy too ^note, I grieving grant
Did you too much disquiet: for that you must
But say, ^note I could not help it.

Cæs.
I wrote to you
When rioting in Alexandria; you ^note
Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts
Did gibe ^note my missive out of audience.

Ant.
Sir, ^note
He fell upon ^note me ere admitted: then ^note
Three kings I had newly feasted and did want
Of what I was i' the morning: but next day
I told him of myself, which was as much
As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow
Be nothing of our strife; if we contend,
Out of our question wipe him.

Cæs.
You have broken
The article of your oath, which you shall never
Have tongue to charge me with. ^note

Lep.
Soft, Cæsar ^note!

Ant.
No ^note, Lepidus, let ^note him speak:
The honour is ^note sacred which he talks on now,
Supposing that I ^note lack'd it. But on, Cæsar; ^note
The article of my oath. ^note

Cæs.
To lend me arms and aid when I required them;
The which you both denied. ^note

Ant.
Neglected rather,
And then when poison'd ^note hours had bound me up
From mine own knowledge. As ^note nearly as I may,
I'll play the penitent to you: but mine honesty
Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power
Work without it. Truth is that Fulvia,
To have me out of Egypt, made wars here;
For which myself, the ignorant motive, do
So far ask pardon as befits mine honour
To stoop in such a case.

Lep.
'Tis noble ^note spoken.

Mæc.
If ^note it might please you, to enforce no further
The griefs between ye: to forget them quite
Were to remember that ^note the present need
Speaks to atone ^note you.

Lep.
Worthily ^note spoken ^note, Mæcenas.

Eno.

Or, if you borrow one another's love for the instant, you may, when you hear no more words of Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to wrangle in when you have nothing else to do.

Ant.
Thou art a soldier only: ^note speak no more.

Eno.
That truth should be silent I ^note had almost forgot.

Ant.
You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more.

Eno.
Go to, ^note then; your considerate stone ^note.

Cæs.
I do not much dislike the matter, but

The manner ^note of his speech; for't ^note cannot be
We shall remain in friendship, our conditions
So differing in their acts. Yet, if I knew
What hoop should hold us stanch, from edge to edge
O' the ^note world ^note I would pursue it.

Agr.
Give me leave, Cæsar. ^note

Cæs.
Speak, Agrippa.

Agr.
Thou hast a sister by the ^note mother's side,
Admired Octavia: ^note great Mark Antony
Is now a widower. ^note

Cæs.
Say not so, ^note Agrippa:
If Cleopatra ^note heard you, your reproof ^note
Were well deserved of ^note rashness. ^note

Ant.
I am not married, Cæsar: let me hear
Agrippa further speak. ^note

Agr.
To hold you in perpetual amity,
To make you brothers and to knit your hearts
With an unslipping knot, take Antony
Octavia to his wife; whose beauty claims
No worse a husband than the best of men,
Whose ^note virtue and whose general graces speak
That which none else can utter. By this marriage
All little jealousies which now seem great,
And all great fears which now import their dangers,
Would then be nothing: truths would be tales ^note,

Where now half tales be truths ^note: her love to both
Would each to other and all loves to both
Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke,
For 'tis a studied, not a present thought,
By duty ruminated.

Ant.
Will Cæsar speak?

Cæs.
Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd
With what is spoke already ^note.

Ant.
What power is in Agrippa,
If I would say, ‘Agrippa, be it so,’
To make this good?

Cæs.
The power of Cæsar, and
His power unto Octavia. ^note

Ant.
May ^note I never
To this good purpose, that so fairly shows,
Dream of impediment! Let me have thy hand:
Further this act of grace; and from this hour
The heart of brothers govern in our loves ^note
And sway our great designs!

Cæs.
There is ^note my hand.
A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother
Did ever love so dearly: let her live
To join our kingdoms and our hearts; and never
Fly off our loves again!

Lep.
Happily, amen!

Ant.
I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst ^note Pompey;
For he hath laid strange courtesies and great
Of late upon me: I must thank him only, ^note
Lest my remembrance suffer ill report;
At heel of that, defy him.

Lep.
Time calls upon's ^note:
Of us must Pompey presently be sought,
Or else he seeks out us.

Ant.
Where ^note lies he? ^note

Cæs.
About ^note the Mount Misenum ^note.

Ant.
What's ^note his strength By land? ^note

Cæs.
Great ^note and increasing: but by sea
He is an absolute master. ^note

Ant.
So is ^note the fame ^note.
Would we had spoke together! Haste we for it:
Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we
The business we have talk'd of.

Cæs.
With most gladness;
And do invite you to my sister's view,
Whither straight I'll lead you.

Ant.
Let us, Lepidus,
Not lack your company. ^note

Lep.
Noble ^note Antony,
Not sickness should detain me. ^note [Flourish. ^note Exeunt ^note Cæsar, Antony, and Lepidus. ^note

Mæc.

Welcome from Egypt, sir.

Eno.

Half the heart of Cæsar, worthy Mæcenas! My honourable friend, Agrippa!

Agr.

Good Enobarbus!

Mæc.

We have cause to be glad that matters are so well digested ^note. You stayed well by't in Egypt.

Eno.

Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance and made the night light with drinking.

Mæc.

Eight wild-boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and but twelve persons there; is this true?

Eno.

This was but as ^note a fly by an eagle: we had much more monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting.

Mæc.

She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to her.

Eno.

When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up his heart, upon the river of Cydnus ^note.

Agr.

There she appeared indeed, or my reporter devised well for her.

Eno.
I will tell you. ^note
The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
Burn'd ^note on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them; the ^note oars ^note were silver, ^note
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
It beggar'd all description: she did lie
In her pavilion, cloth-of-gold of tissue ^note,
O'er-picturing that Venus ^note where we see
The fancy outwork nature: on each side her
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem
To glow ^note the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid did ^note.

Agr.
O, rare for Antony!

Eno.
Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides ^note,

So many mermaids ^note, tended her i' the eyes ^note,
And made their bends ^note adornings ^{note note note note}: at the helm
A seeming mermaid ^note steers: the silken tackle ^note
Swell ^{note note} with the touches of those flower-soft hands,
That yarely ^note frame the office. From the barge
A strange invisible ^note perfume hits the sense
Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast
Her people out upon her; and Antony,
Enthroned i' the market-place, did sit alone,
Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra ^note too,
And made a gap in nature.

Agr.
Rare Egyptian!

Eno.
Upon her landing, Antony sent to her,
Invited her to supper: she replied,
It should be better he became her guest,
Which she entreated: our ^note courteous Antony,
Whom ne'er the word of ‘No’ ^{note note} woman heard ^note speak,
Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast,
And, for ^note his ordinary, pays his heart
For what his eyes eat only.

Agr.
Royal wench!
She made great Cæsar lay his sword to bed:
He plough'd her, and she cropp'd.

Eno.
I saw her once
Hop forty paces through the public street;
And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted,
That she did make defect perfection,
And, breathless, power ^note breathe ^note forth.

Mæc.
Now Antony must leave her utterly.

Eno.
Never; he ^note will not: ^note
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale ^note
Her infinite variety: other women cloy
The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies: for vilest ^note things
Become themselves in her, that the holy priests
Bless her when she is riggish.

Mæc.
If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle
The heart of Antony, Octavia is
A blessed lottery ^note to him ^note.

Agr.
Let us go.
Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest
Whilst you abide here. ^note

Eno.
Humbly, sir, I thank you. [Exeunt. ^note Scene III. [Footnote: The same. ^note Cæsar's house. Enter Antony, Cæsar, Octavia between them, and Attendants. ^note

Ant.
The world and my great office will sometimes
Divide me from your bosom. ^note

Octa.
All which time
Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers ^{note note}
To them for you. ^note

Ant.
Good night, sir. My Octavia,
Read not my blemishes in the world's report:
I have not kept my square; but that to come
Shall all be done by the rule. Good night, dear lady.
Good night, sir ^note.

Cæs.
Good night. [Exeunt all but Antony. ^note Enter Soothsayer. ^{note note}

Ant.

Now, sirrah, you do ^note wish yourself in Egypt?

Sooth.

Would I had never come from ^note thence, nor ^note you thither ^note! ^note

Ant.

If you can, your reason?

Sooth.

I see it ^note in my motion ^note, have it not in my tongue: but yet hie you to Egypt again ^note. ^note

Ant.

Say to me, whose fortunes ^note shall rise higher, Cæsar's or mine? ^note

Sooth.
Cæsar's.
Therefore, O ^note Antony, stay not by his side: ^note
Thy demon, that thy ^note spirit which keeps thee, is

Noble, courageous, high, ^note unmatchable ^note,
Where Cæsar's is not; but near him thy angel
Becomes a fear, ^note as being o'erpower'd: therefore ^note
Make ^note space enough between you.

Ant.
Speak this no more.

Sooth.
To none but thee; no more but ^note when to thee.
If thou dost play with him at any game,
Thou art ^note sure to lose; and, of ^note that natural luck,
He beats thee 'gainst the odds: thy lustre ^note thickens,
When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit
Is all afraid to govern thee near him,
But he away, 'tis ^note noble.

Ant.
Get thee gone:
Say to Ventidius ^note I would speak with him. [Exit Soothsayer. ^note
He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap,
He hath spoken ^note true: the very dice obey him,
And in our sports my better cunning faints
Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds;
His cocks do win the battle still of mine
When it is all to nought, and his quails ever
Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds ^note. I will to Egypt:
And ^note though I make this marriage for my peace,
I' the east my pleasure lies.

Enter Ventidius. ^note
O, come, Ventidius ^note,
You must to Parthia: your commission's ^note ready;
Follow me, and receive't ^note. [Exeunt. ^note Scene IV. [Footnote: The same. A street. ^note Enter Lepidus, ^note Mæcenas, and Agrippa.

Lep.
Trouble yourselves ^note no further ^note: pray you, hasten
Your generals after. ^note

Agr.
Sir, Mark Antony
Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow. ^note

Lep.
Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress,
Which will become you both, farewell.

Mæc.
^noteWe shall,
As I conceive the journey, be at the ^note Mount ^note
Before you, Lepidus.

Lep.
Your way is shorter;
My purposes do draw me much about:
You'll win two days upon me.

Mæc. Agr.
Sir, ^note good success!

Lep.
Farewell. [Exeunt.

^note Scene V. [Footnote: Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace. ^note Enter Cleopatra, ^note Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.

Cleo.
Give me some music; music, moody food
Of us that trade in love. ^note

All. ^note
The music, ho! Enter Mardian the Eunuch. ^note

Cleo.
Let it alone; let's ^note to billiards ^note: come, ^note Charmian.

Char.
My arm is sore; best play with Mardian.

Cleo.
As well a woman with an eunuch play'd
As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me, sir? ^note

Mar.
As well as I can, madam.

Cleo.
And when good will is show'd ^note, though't come too ^note short, ^note
The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now:
Give me mine angle; we'll to the river: there ^note,
My music playing far off, I ^note will betray
Tawny-finn'd ^note fishes ^note; my bended ^note hook shall pierce
Their slimy jaws, and as I draw them up,
I'll think them every one an Antony,
And say ‘Ah, ha! you're ^note caught.’

Char.
'Twas merry when

You wager'd on your angling; when your diver
Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he
With fervency drew up. ^note

Cleo.
That time—O times!— ^note
I laugh'd him out of patience, and that night
I laugh'd him into patience: and next morn,
Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed;
Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst
I wore his sword Philippan ^note. Enter ^note a Messenger.
O, from Italy! ^note
Ram ^note thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,
That long time have been barren.

Mess.
Madam, madam,— ^note

Cleo.
Antonius ^note dead! If thou say ^note so, villain ^note,
Thou kill'st thy mistress: but well and free, ^note
If thou so yield him, there ^note is gold, and here ^note
My bluest veins to kiss: a hand that kings
Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing.

Mess.
First, madam, he is well.

Cleo.
Why, there's more gold.
But, sirrah, mark, we use ^note
To say the dead are well: bring it ^note to that,
The gold I give thee will I melt and pour
Down thy ill-uttering throat.

Mess.
Good madam, hear me.

Cleo.
Well, go to ^note, I will;
But there's no goodness in thy face: if ^note Antony
Be free and healthful,—so ^note tart a favour ^note
To trumpet ^note such good tidings! If not well,
Thou shouldst come like a Fury crown'd with snakes,
Not like a formal man.

Mess.
Will't ^note please you hear me?

Cleo.
I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st:
Yet, if thou say Antony lives, is ^note well,
Or friends with Cæsar, or not captive ^note to him,
I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail
Rich pearls upon thee.

Mess.
Madam, he's well.

Cleo.
Well said.

Mess.
And friends with Cæsar.

Cleo.
Thou'rt ^note an honest man.

Mess.
Cæsar and he are greater friends than ever.

Cleo.
Make ^note thee a fortune ^note from me. ^note

Mess.
But, yet, madam,— ^note

Cleo.
I do not like ‘But yet,’ it does allay
The good precedence ^note; fie upon ‘But yet’!
‘But yet’ is a gaoler to bring forth
Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend,
Pour out the pack ^note of matter to mine ear,
The good and bad together: he's friends with Cæsar,
In state of health, thou say'st, and thou say'st, free.

Mess.
Free, madam! no; I made no such report ^note:

He's bound unto Octavia.

Cleo.
For what good turn?

Mess.
For the best turn i' the bed.

Cleo.
I am pale, Charmian.

Mess.
Madam, he's married to Octavia.

Cleo.
The most infectious pestilence upon thee! [Strikes him down.

Mess.
Good madam, patience ^note.

Cleo.
What say you? Hence, [Strikes him again. ^note
Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes ^note
Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head: [She hales him up and down.
Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine,
Smarting in lingering pickle.

Mess.
Gracious madam,
I that do bring the news made not the match.

Cleo.
Say 'tis not so, a province I will give thee
And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst
Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage,
And I will boot thee with what gift beside
Thy modesty can beg.

Mess.
He's married, madam.

Cleo.
Rogue, thou hast lived too long. [Draws a knife. ^note

Mess.
Nay, then I'll run.
What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. [Exit.

Char.
Good madam, keep yourself within yourself:
The man is innocent.

Cleo.
Some innocents ^note 'scape not the thunderbolt.
Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly ^note creatures
Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again:
Though I am mad, I will not bite him: call.

Char.
He is afeard ^note to come.

Cleo.
I will not hurt him. [Exit Charmian. ^note
These hands do lack nobility, that they strike
A meaner than myself; since I myself
Have given myself the cause. Re-enter ^note Charmian and Messenger.
Come hither, sir.
Though it be honest, it is never good
To bring bad news: give to a gracious message
An host of tongues, but let ill ^note tidings tell
Themselves ^note when they be felt.

Mess.
I have done ^note my duty.

Cleo.
Is he married?
I cannot hate thee worser than I do,
If thou again say ‘Yes.’

Mess.
He's married, madam.

Cleo.
The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still? ^note

Mess.
Should I lie, madam?

Cleo.
O, I would thou didst,
So half my Egypt were submerged and made
A cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence:
Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me ^note
Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married? ^note

Mess.
I crave your highness' pardon.

Cleo.
He is married? ^note

Mess.
Take no offence that ^note I would not offend you:
To punish me for what you make me do
Seems much unequal: he's married to Octavia.

Cleo.
O, that his fault should make a knave of thee,

That art not what thou'rt sure of! ^note Get thee hence:
The merchandise which ^note thou hast brought from Rome
Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy hand,
And be undone by 'em! ^note [Exit Messenger. ^note

Char.
Good your highness, patience.

Cleo.
In praising ^note Antony, I have dispraised Cæsar.

Char.
Many times, madam.

Cleo.
I am ^note paid for't ^note now.
Lead me from hence; ^note
I faint: O Iras, Charmian! 'tis no matter.
Go to the ^note fellow, good Alexas; bid ^note him
Report the feature of Octavia, her years,
Her inclination; let him not leave out
The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly. [Exit Alexas. ^note
Let him for ever go: let him not— ^noteCharmian,
Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,
The other way's ^note a Mars. [To Mardian ^note] Bid you Alexas
Bring me ^note word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian,
But do not speak ^note to me. Lead me to my chamber. [Exeunt.

^note Scene VI. [Footnote: Near Misenum. ^note Flourish. ^note Enter ^note Pompey and Menas from one side, with drum and trumpet: at another, Cæsar, Antony, Lepidus, Enobarbus, Mæcenas, with Soldiers marching.

Pom.
Your hostages I have, so have you mine;
And we shall talk before we fight.

Cæs
Most meet
That first we come to words; and therefore have we ^note
Our written purposes before us sent;
Which, if thou hast consider'd ^note, let us know
If 'twill tie up thy discontented sword
And carry back to Sicily ^note much tall youth
That else must ^note perish here.

Pom.
To you all three,
The senators alone of this great world,
Chief factors for the gods, I ^note do not know
Wherefore my father should revengers want,
Having a son and friends; since Julius Cæsar,
Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted,
There saw you labouring for him. What was't ^note
That moved pale Cassius to conspire, and what
Made ^note the ^note all-honour'd honest Roman, Brutus,
With the arm'd rest, courtiers ^note of beauteous freedom,
To drench the Capitol, but that they would

Have one man but a man ^note? And that is ^note it
Hath made me rig my navy, at whose burthen
The anger'd ocean foams; with which I meant ^note
To scourge the ingratitude that despiteful Rome
Cast on my noble father.

Cæs.
Take your time.

Ant.
Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails;
We'll speak with thee at sea: at land, thou know'st
How much we do o'ercount thee.

Pom.
At land indeed
Thou dost o'ercount me of my father's house:
But since the cuckoo builds not for himself,
Remain in't as thou mayst.

Lep.
Be pleased to tell us—
For this is from the present—how you take ^note
The offers ^note we have sent you. ^note

Cæs.
There's the point.

Ant.
Which do not be entreated to, but weigh
What it is worth embraced. ^note

Cæs.
And what may follow,
To try a larger fortune. ^note

Pom.
You have ^note made me offer
Of Sicily ^note, Sardinia ^note; and I must
Rid all the sea of pirates; then, to send
Measures of wheat to Rome; this 'greed ^note upon,
To part with unhack'd edges and bear back
Our ^note targes ^note undinted ^note.

Cæs. Ant. Lep. ^note
That's our offer.

Pom.
Know then,
I came before you here a man prepared ^note
To take this offer: but Mark Antony
Put ^note me to some impatience: though I lose
The praise of it by telling, you ^note must know,
When Cæsar and your brother were at blows,
Your mother came to Sicily ^note and did find
Her welcome friendly.

Ant.
I have heard it, Pompey,
And am well studied for a liberal thanks
Which I do owe you.

Pom.
Let me have your hand:
I did not think, sir, to have met you here.

Ant.
The beds i' the east are soft; and thanks to you,
That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither;
For I have gain'd by't ^note.

Cæs.
Since I saw you last,
There is ^note a change upon you. ^note

Pom.
Well, I know not
What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face;
But in my bosom shall she never come,
To make my heart her ^note vassal.

Lep.
Well met here.

Pom.
I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are agreed:
I crave our composition ^note may be written
And seal'd between us.

Cæs.
That's the next to do.

Pom.
We'll feast each other ere we part, and let's

Draw lots who shall begin.

Ant.
That will I, Pompey.

Pom.
No, Antony ^note, take ^note the lot:
But, first or last, your fine Egyptian cookery
Shall have the fame. I have ^note heard that Julius Cæsar
Grew fat with feasting there. ^note

Ant.
You have heard much.

Pom.
I have fair meanings ^note, sir.

Ant.
And fair words to them ^note.

Pom.
Then so much have I heard:
And I have heard, Apollodorus carried—

Eno.
No more of that ^note: he did so.

Pom.
What, I pray you?

Eno.
A certain queen to Cæsar in a mattress ^note. ^note

Pom.
I know thee now: how farest thou, soldier?

Eno.
Well;
And well am like to do, for I perceive ^note
Four feasts are toward.

Pom.
Let me shake thy hand;
I never hated thee: I have seen thee fight,
When I have envied thy behaviour.

Eno.
Sir,
I never loved you much, but I ha' praised ye ^{note note}
When you have well deserved ten times as much
As I have said you did.

Pom.
Enjoy thy plainness,
It nothing ill becomes thee.
Aboard my galley I invite you all:
Will you lead, lords?

Cæs. Ant. Lep. ^note
Show us ^note the way, sir.

Pom.
Come. [Exeunt ^note all but Menas and Enobarbus.

Men. [Aside ^note]

Thy father, Pompey, would ne'er have ^notemade this ^note treaty. You and I have known, sir.

Eno.

At sea, I think.

Men.

We have, sir.

Eno.

You have done well by water.

Men.

And you by land.

Eno.

I will praise any man that will praise me; though it cannot be denied what I have done by land.

Men.

Nor what I have done by water.

Eno.

Yes, something you can deny for your own safety: you have been a great ^note thief by sea.

Men.

And you by land.

Eno.

There I deny my land service. But give me your hand, Menas: if our eyes had authority, here they might take two thieves kissing.

Men.

All men's faces are true, whatsoe'er ^note their hands are.

Eno.

But there is never ^note a fair woman has a true face.

Men.

No slander; they steal hearts.

Eno.

We came hither to fight with you.

Men.

For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a drinking. Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune.

Eno.

If he do, sure he cannot weep't ^note back again.

Men.

You've ^note said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony here: pray you, is he married to Cleopatra?

Eno.

Cæsar's sister is called Octavia.

Men.

True, sir; she was the wife of Caius Marcellus.

Eno.

But she is now ^note the wife of Marcus Antonius.

Men.

Pray ye, sir? ^note

Eno.

'Tis true.

Men.

Then is Cæsar and he for ever knit together. ^note

Eno.

If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would not prophesy so.

Men.

I think the policy of that purpose made more in the marriage than the love of the parties.

Eno.

I think so too. But you shall find, the band that seems to tie their friendship together will be the very strangler ^note of their amity: Octavia is of a holy, cold and still conversation.

Men.

Who would not have his wife so?

Eno.

Not he that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony. He will to his Egyptian dish again: then shall the sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Cæsar; and, as I said before, that which is the strength of their amity shall prove the immediate author of their variance. Antony will use his affection where it is: he married but his occasion here.

Men.

And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard? I have a health for you.

Eno.

I shall take it, sir: we have used our throats in Egypt.

Men.

Come, let's away.