Cha.

Alexas, sweet Alexas, most anything Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer that you prais'd so to the Queen? O, that I knew this husband which, you say, must charge his horns with garlands!

Ale.

Soothsayer,—

Soo.

Your will?

Cha.
Is this the man?—Is't you, sir, that know things?

Soo.
In nature's infinite book of secresy
A little I can read.

Ale.
—Shew him your hand. Enter Enobarbus.

Eno.

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

Cha.

Good sir, give me good fortune.

Soo.

I make not, but foresee

Cha.

Pray then, foresee me one. Let me be marry'd 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 with Octavius Cæsar, and companion me with my mistress.

Soo.

You shall out-live the lady whom you serve.

Cha.

O excellent! I love long life better than figs.

Soo.

You have seen and prov'd a fairer former fortune Than that which is to approach.

Cha.

Then, belike, my children shall have no names.— Nay, come, tell Iras hers.

Ale.

We'll know all our fortunes.

Eno.

Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be—drunk to bed.

Ira.

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

Cha.

E'en as the o'er-flowing Nilus presageth famine.

Ira.

Go, you wild bed-fellow; you cannot soothsay.

Cha.

Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear.—Prythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune.

Soo.

Your fortunes are alike.

Ira.

But how, but how? give me particulars.

Soo.

I have said.

Ira.

Am I not an inch of fortune better than she?

Cha.

Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it?

Ira.

Not in my husband's nose.

Cha.

Our worser thoughts heavens 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!

Ira.

Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! for, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsom man loose-wiv'd, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded; Therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly!

Cha.

Amen.

Ale.

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.

Cha.

—Not he, the Queen.

Cle.

Saw you my lord?

Eno.

—No, lady.

Cle.

Was he not here?

Cha.

—No, madam.

Cle.
He was dispos'd to mirth; but, on the sudden,
A Roman thought hath strook him.—Enobarbus,—

Eno.
Madam.

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

Ale.
Here, lady, at your service. My lord approaches. Enter Antony, with a Messenger; Attendants following.

Cle.
We will not look upon him; Go with us. [Exeunt Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Alexas, Iras, Charmian, Soothsayer, and the rest.

Mes.
Fulvia thy wife first came into the field.

Ant.
Against my brother Lucius?

Mes.
—Ay: but soon
That war had end; and the time's state made friends
Of them, jointing their forces against Cæsar;
Whose better issue in the war from Italy,
Upon the first encounter, drave them.

Ant.
—Well,
What worst?

Mes.
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 lie death,
I hear him as he flatter'd.

Mes.
—Labienus,
Hath with his Parthian force, through extended Asia,
From Eúphrates his conquering banner shook,
From Syria, to Lydia, and Ionia;
Whilst—

Ant.
—Antony, thou would'st say,—

Mes.
—O, my lord,—

Ant.
Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue;
Name Cleopatra as she's call'd in Rome:
Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults
With such full licence, as both truth and malice
Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds,
When our quick winds lie still; and our ills told us,
Is as our earing. Fare thee well a while.

Mes.
At your noble pleasure. [Exit.

Ant.
From Sicyon how the news? Speak there.

1. A.
The man from Sicyon,—Is there such a one?

2. A.
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?

Mes.
Fulvia thy wife is dead.

Ant.
—Where dy'd she?

Mes.
—In Sicyon:

Her length of sickness, with what else more serious
Importeth thee to know, this &dagger2; bears.

Ant.
—Forbear me.— [Exit Messenger.
There's a great spirit gone: Thus did I desire it:
What our contempts do often hurl from us,
We wish it ours again; the present pleasure,
By revolution lowering, does become
The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone;
The hand could pluck her back, that shov'd her on.
I must from this enchanting Queen break off;
Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
My idleness doth hatch.—Ho, Enobarbus! Enter Enobarbus.

Eno.

What's your pleasure, sir?

Ant.

I must with haste from hence.

Eno.

Why, then we kill all our women: We see how mortal an unkindness is to them; if they suffer our departure, death's the word.

Ant.

I must be gone.

Eno.

Under 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 esteem'd nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment.

Ant.

She is cunning past man's thought. Fulvia is dead.

Eno.

Sir?

Ant.

Fulvia is dead.

Eno.

Fulvia?

Ant.

Dead.

Eno.

Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. If there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you

indeed a cut, and the case to be lamented: this grief is crown'd 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 wholy depends on your abode.

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 love to ^note 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 giv'n the dare to Cæsar, and commands
The empire of the sea: our slippery people
(Whose love is never link'd to the deserver,
'Till his deserts are past) begin to throw
Pompey the great, and all his dignities,
Upon his son; who, high in name and power,
Higher than both in blood and life, stands up
For the main soldier; whose quality, going on,
The sides o'the world may danger: Much is breeding,
Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life,
And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure,
To such whose place is under us, requires
Our quick remove from hence.

Eno.
I shall do't. [Exeunt.

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