\documentclass{book} \usepackage[repeat]{poetry} \usepackage{drama} \usepackage{example} \hfuzz 1pt \HouseStyle {arden} %\HouseStyle {penguin} \begin{document} \ExampleTitle {William Shakespeare}{Antony and Cleopatra} {\ifthenelse {\equal {\housestyle}{arden}} {The Arden Shakespeare\\[.5ex] University Paperbacks, Methuen, 1965} {New Penguin Shakespeare\\[.5ex] Penguin Books} } \FrontMatter {Antony and Cleopatra} \parindent 1em \chapter [Reviser's preface]{Preface to revised edition} \noindent\lorem[32421] \section {The Text} \noindent\lorem[41322] \section {The Apparatus Criticus} \noindent\lorem[3225] \section {Introduction, Notes, and Appendices} \noindent\lorem[3422] \chapter {Introduction} \noindent\lorem[223113] %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% \MainMatter {Antony and Cleopatra} \begin {DramatisPersonae} \begin {Characters} {triumvirs} \persona{Antony,} \persona{Octavius C\ae sar,} \persona{Lepidus,} \end{Characters} \persona{Sextus Pompeius.} \begin{Characters} {friends of Antony} \persona{Domitius Enobarbus,} \persona{Ventidius,} \persona{Eros,} \persona{Scarus,} \persona{Decretas,} \persona{Demetrius,} \persona{Philo} \end{Characters} \begin{Characters} {friends of C\ae sar} \persona{M\ae cenas,} \persona{Agrippa,} \persona{Dolabella,} \persona{Proculeius,\kern .4em} \persona{Thidias,} \persona{Gallus,} \end{Characters} \begin{Characters} {friends of Pompey} \persona{Menas,} \persona{Menecrates,} \persona{Varrius,} \end{Characters} \persona{Tarus,} lieutenant-general to C\ae sar. \persona{Canidius,} lieutenant-general to Antony. \persona{Silius,} an officer in Ventidius' army. \begin{unnamed} A `schoolmaster' acting as ambassador from Antony to C\ae sar. \end{unnamed} \begin{Characters} [.85]{attendants on Cleopatra} \persona{Alexas,} \persona{Mardian,} a eunuch, \persona{Diomedes,} \end{Characters} \persona{Seleucus} treasurer to Cleopatra. \begin{unnamed} A soothsayer. A Clown. \end{unnamed} \ifthenelse {\equal {\housestyle}{penguin}}{\newpage}{} \persona{Cleopatra,} queen of Egypt. \persona{Octavia,} C\ae sar's sister. \begin{Characters} [.8]{attendants on Cleopatra} \persona{Charmian,} \persona{Iras,} \end{Characters} \Facies \titulus {#1} \spatium{.5\leading minus .25\leading} \titulus{Officers, Soldiers, messengers, and other attendants.} \spatium{.5\leading minus .25\leading \penalty 1000} \titulus{\textsc{Scene:} In several parts of the Roman empire.} \ifthenelse {\equal {\housestyle}{penguin}}{\newpage}{} \end {DramatisPersonae} %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% \ifthenelse {\equal {\housestyle}{arden}} {\persona*[1]{Ant\\Antony} \persona*[2]{Cleo\\Cleopatra} \persona*[3]{C\ae{}s\\Caesar} \persona*[4]{Agr\\Agrippa} \persona*[5]{Ale\\Alexas} \persona*[6]{Can\\Canidius} \persona*[7]{Char\\Charmian} \persona*[8]{Dec\\Decretas} \persona*[9]{Dem\\Demetrius} \persona*[10]{Dio\\Diomedes} \persona*[11]{Dol\\Dolabella} \persona*[12]{Egyp\\Egyptian} \persona*[13]{Eno\\Enobarbus} \persona*[14]{Eros\\Eros} \persona*[15]{Gal\\Gallus} \persona*[16]{Iras\\Iras} \persona*[17]{Lep\\Lepidus} \persona*[18]{Mar\\Mardian} \persona*[19]{M{\ae}c\\Mecaenas} \persona*[20]{Men\\Menas} \persona*[21]{Mene\\Menecrates} \persona*[22]{Oct\\Octavia} \persona*[23]{Phi\\Philo} \persona*[24]{Pom\\Pompey} \persona*[25]{Pro\\Proculeius} \persona*[26]{Scar\\Scarus} \persona*[27]{Sel\\Seleucus} \persona*[28]{Sil\\Silius} \persona*[29]{Taur\\Taurus} \persona*[30]{Thid\\Thidias} \persona*[31]{Var\\Varius} \persona*[32]{Ven\\Ventidius} \persona*[50]{Amb\\Ambassador} \persona*[51]{Att\\Attendant} \persona*[52]{First Att} \persona*[53]{Sec. Att} \persona*[54]{Capt} \persona*[55]{Clown} \persona*[56]{Guard} \persona*[57]{First Guard} \persona*[58]{Sec. Guard} \persona*[59]{Third Guard} \persona*[60]{Mess\\Messenger} \persona*[61]{Sec Mess} \persona*[62]{Sent\\Sentry} \persona*[63]{Ser\\Servant} \persona*[64]{First Ser} \persona*[65]{Sec. Ser} \persona*[66]{Sold} \persona*[67]{First Sold} \persona*[68]{Sec. Sold} \persona*[69]{Third Sold} \persona*[70]{Fourth Sold} \persona*[71]{Sooth\\Soothsayer} \persona*[72]{First Watch} \persona*[73]{Sec. Watch} \persona*[99]{All} } {\persona*[1]{Antony} \persona*[2]{Cleopatra} \persona*[3]{Caesar} \persona*[4]{Agrippa} \persona*[5]{Alexas} \persona*[6]{Canidius} \persona*[7]{Charmian} \persona*[8]{Decretas} \persona*[9]{Demetrius} \persona*[10]{Diomedes} \persona*[11]{Dolabella} \persona*[12]{Egyptian} \persona*[13]{Enobarbus} \persona*[14]{Eros} \persona*[15]{Gallus} \persona*[16]{Iras} \persona*[17]{Lepidus} \persona*[18]{Mardian} \persona*[19]{Mecaenas} \persona*[20]{Menas} \persona*[21]{Menecrates} \persona*[22]{Octavia} \persona*[23]{Philo} \persona*[24]{Pompey} \persona*[25]{Proculeius} \persona*[26]{Scarus} \persona*[27]{Seleucus} \persona*[28]{Silius} \persona*[29]{Taurus} \persona*[30]{Thidias} \persona*[31]{Varius} \persona*[32]{Ventidius} \persona*[50]{Ambassador} \persona*[51]{Attendant} \persona*[52]{First Attendant} \persona*[53]{Sec. Attendant} \persona*[54]{Captain} \persona*[55]{Clown} \persona*[56]{Guard} \persona*[57]{First Guard} \persona*[58]{Sec. Guard} \persona*[59]{Third Guard} \persona*[60]{Messenger} \persona*[61]{Sec Messenger} \persona*[62]{Sentry} \persona*[63]{Servant} \persona*[64]{First Servant} \persona*[65]{Sec. Servant} \persona*[66]{Soldier} \persona*[67]{First Soldier} \persona*[68]{Sec. Soldier} \persona*[69]{Third Soldier} \persona*[70]{Fourth Soldier} \persona*[71]{Soothsayer} \persona*[72]{First Watch} \persona*[73]{Sec. Watch} \persona*[99]{All} } %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% \thispagestyle{empty} \pagestyle{MainMatterPage} \Drama \Versus \numerus{1} \Act \Scene {Alexandria. A room in Cleopatra's palace.} \(Enter \9 and \23\) \23 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 temper, And is become the bellows and the fan To cool a gipsy's lust. \\ \(Flourish. Enter \1, \2, her Ladies, the Train, with Eunuchs fanning her.\) Look, where they come: 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. \2 If it be love indeed, tell me how much. \1 There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd. \2 I'll set a bourn how far to be beloved. \1 Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth. \(Enter an Attendant.\) \51 News, my good lord, from Rome. \\ \1 Grates me: the sum. \2 Nay, hear them, Antony: Fulvia perchance is angry; or, who knows If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent His powerful mandate to you, `Do this, or this; Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that; Perform 't, or else we damn thee.' \\ \1 How, my love! \2 Perchance! nay, and most like: You must not stay here longer, your dismission Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony. Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's I would say? both? Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's queen, Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine Is Caesar's homager: else so thy cheek pays shame When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers! \1 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 suche a mutual pair \[r]Embracing.\] And such a twain can do't, in which I bind, On pain of punishment, the world to weet We stand up peerless. \\ \2 Excellent falsehood! Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her? I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony Will be himself. \\ \1 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? \2 Hear the ambassadors. \\ \1 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 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. \[r]Exeunt \1 and \2 with their train.\] \9 Is Caesar with Antonius prized so slight? \23 Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony, He comes too short of that great property Which still should go with Antony. \\ \9 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! \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{The same. Another room.} \(Enter \7, \16, \5, and a \71\) \begin{PROSE} \7 Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew this husband, which, you say, must charge his horns with garlands! \5 Soothsayer! \71 Your will? \7 Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that know things? \end{PROSE} \71 In nature's infinite book of secrecy A little I can read.\\ \5 Show him your hand. \(Enter \13\) \13 Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough Cleopatra's health to drink. \begin{PROSE} \7 Good sir, give me good fortune. \71 I make not, but foresee. \7 Pray, then, foresee me one. \71 You shall be yet far fairer than you are. \7 He means in flesh. \16 No, you shall paint when you are old. \7 Wrinkles forbid! \5 Vex not his prescience; be attentive. \7 Hush! \71 You shall be more beloving than beloved. \7 I had rather heat my liver with drinking. \5 Nay, hear him. \7 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 Caesar, and companion me with my mistress. \71 You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. \7 O excellent! I love long life better than figs. \71 You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune Than that which is to approach. \7 Then belike my children shall have no names: pri\-thee, how many boys and wenches must I have? \71 If every of your wishes had a womb. And fertile every wish, a million. \7 Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. \5 You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. \7 Nay, come, tell Iras hers. \5 We'll know all our fortunes. \13 Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be--drunk to bed. \16 There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. \7 E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine. \16 Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. \7 Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee, tell her but a worky-day fortune. \71 Your fortunes are alike. \16 But how, but how? give me particulars. \71 I have said. \16 Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? \7 Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it? \16 Not in my husband's nose. \7 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 worst 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! \16 Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! for, as it is a heartbreaking 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! \7 Amen. \5 Lo, now, if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but they'ld do't! \end{PROSE} \13 Hush! here comes Antony. \\ \7 Not he; the queen. \(Enter \2.\) \2 Saw you my lord? \\ \13 No, lady. \\ \2 Was he not here? \7 No, madam. \2 He was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus! \13 Madam? \2 Seek him, and bring him hither. Where's Alexas? \5 Here, at your service. My lord approaches. \2 We will not look upon him: go with us. \[r]Exeunt.\] \(Enter \1 with a Messenger and Attendants.\) \60 Fulvia thy wife first came into the field. \1 Against my brother Lucius? \60 Ay: But soon that war had end, and the time's state Made friends of them, joining their force 'gainst Caesar; Whose better issue in the war, from Italy, Upon the first encounter, drave them. \\ \1 Well, what worst? \60 The nature of bad news infects the teller. \1 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. \\ \60 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--- \\ \1 Antony, thou wouldst say,--- \\ \60 O, my lord! \1 Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue: Name Cleopatra as she is 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 minds lie still; and our ills told us Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile. \60 At your noble pleasure. \[r]Exit.\] \1 From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there! \52 The man from Sicyon,---is there such an one? \53 He stays upon your will. \\ \1 Let him appear. These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, Or lose myself in dotage. \\ \(Enter another Messenger.\) What are you? \61 Fulvia thy wife is dead. \\ \1 Where died she? \61 In Sicyon: Her length of sickness, with what else more serious Importeth thee to know, this bears. \\ \[r]Gives a letter.\] \1 Forbear me. \[r]Exit Second Messenger.\] There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it: 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! \(Re-enter \13.\) \begin{PROSE} \13 What's your pleasure, sir? \1 I must with haste from hence. \13 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. \1 I must be gone. \13 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. \1 She is cunning past man's thought. \13 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. \1 Would I had never seen her. \13 O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of work; which not to have been blest withal would have discredited your travel. \1 Fulvia is dead. \13 Sir? \1 Fulvia is dead. \13 Fulvia! \1 Dead. \13 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. \1 The business she hath broached in the state Cannot endure my absence. \13 And the business you have broached here cannot be without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode. \end{PROSE} \1 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 Caesar, 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. \13 I shall do't. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{The same. Another room.} \(Enter \2, \7, \16, and \9.\) \2 Where is he? \\ \7 I did not see him since. \2 See where he is, who's with him, what he does: 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. \[r]Exit \9\] \7 Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, You do not hold the method to enforce The like from him. \\ \2 What should I do, I do not? \7 In each thing give him way, cross him nothing. \2 Thou teachest like a fool; the way to lose him. \7 Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear: In time we hate that which we often fear. \(Enter \1.\) But here comes Antony. \\ \2 I am sick and sullen. \1 I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,--- \2 Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall: It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature Will not sustain it. \\ \1 Now, my dearest queen,--- \2 Pray you, stand further from me. \\ \1 What's the matter? \2 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. \1 The gods best know,--- \\ \2 O, never was there queen So mightily betray'd! yet at the first I saw the treasons planted. \\ \1 Cleopatra,--- \2 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, Which break themselves in swearing! \\ \1 Most sweet queen,--- \2 Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going, But bid 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. \\ \1 How now, lady! \2 I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know There were a heart in Egypt. \\ \1 Hear me, queen: The strong necessity of time commands Our services 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 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 Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten; And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge By any desperate change: my more particular, And that which most with you should safe my going, Is Fulvia's death. \2 Though age from folly could not give me freedom, It does from childishness: can Fulvia die? \1 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. \\ \2 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. \1 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. \\ \2 Cut my lace, Charmian, come; But let it be: I am quickly ill, and well, So Antony loves. \\ \1 My precious queen, forbear; And give true evidence to his love, which stands An honourable trial. \\ \2 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 Life perfect honour. \\ \1 You'll heat my blood: no more. \2 You can do better yet; but this is meetly. \1 Now, by my sword,--- \\ \2 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. \\ \1 I'll leave you, lady. \2 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. \\ \1 But that your royalty Holds idleness your subject, I should take you For idleness itself. \\ \2 '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 your sword Sit laurel victory! and smooth success Be strew'd before your feet! \\ \1 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! \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Caesar's house.} \(Enter \3, reading a letter, \17, and their Train.\) \3 You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate Our great competitor: from Alexandria This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes The lamps of night in revel; is not more man-like Than Cleopatra; nor the queen of Ptolemy More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or Vouchsafed to think he had partners: you shall find there A man who is the abstract of all faults That all men follow. \\ \17 I must not think there are Evils enow to darken all his goodness: His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven, More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary, Rather than purchased; what he cannot change, Than what he chooses. \3 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 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 As his own state and ours,---'tis to be chid As we rate boys, who, being mature in knowledge, Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, And so rebel to judgment. \\ \(Enter a Messenger.\) \17 Here's more news. \60 Thy biddings have been done; and every hour, Most noble Caesar, 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 Caesar: to the ports The discontents repair, and men's reports Give him much wrong'd. \\ \3 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 love, Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body, Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide, To rot itself with motion. \\ \61 Caesar, I bring thee word, Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates, Make the sea serve them, which they ear 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: No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more Than could his war resisted. \\ \3 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 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. \\ \17 'Tis pity of him. \3 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. \\ \17 To-morrow, Caesar, I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly Both what by sea and land I can be able To front this present time. \\ \3 Till which encounter, It is my business too. Farewell. \17 Farewell, my lord: what you shall know meantime Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir, To let me be partaker. \\ \3 Doubt not, sir; I knew it for my bond. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.} \(Enter \2, \7, \16, and \18.\) \2 Charmian! \7 Madam? \2 Ha, ha! Give me to drink mandragora. \\ \7 Why, madam? \2 That I might sleep out this great gap of time My Antony is away. \\ \7 You think of him too much. \2 O, 'tis treason! \\ \7 Madam, I trust, not so. \2 Thou, eunuch Mardian! \\ \18 What's your highness' pleasure? \2 Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure In aught an eunuch has: 'tis well for thee, That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections? \18 Yes, gracious madam. \2 Indeed! \18 Not in deed, 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. \\ \2 O Charmian, 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 of men. 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 on me, That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black, And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar, 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. \\ \(Enter \5, from Caesar.\) \5 Sovereign of Egypt, hail! \2 How much unlike art thou Mark Antony! Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath With his tinct gilded thee. How goes it with my brave Mark Antony? \5 Last thing he did, dear queen, He kiss'd,---the last of many doubled kisses,--- This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart. \2 Mine ear must pluck it thence. \\ \5 `Good friend,' quoth he, `Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot, To mend the petty present, I will piece Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the east, Say thou, shall call her mistress.' So he nodded, And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed, Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke Was beastly dumb'd by him. \\ \2 What, was he sad or merry? \5 Like to the time o' the year between the extremes Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry. \2 O well-divided disposition! Note him, 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 else. Met'st thou my posts? \5 Ay, madam, twenty several messengers: Why do you send so thick? \\ \2 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 Caesar so? \\ \7 O that brave Caesar! \2 Be choked with such another emphasis! Say, the brave Antony. \\ \7 The valiant Caesar! \2 By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, If thou with Caesar paragon again My man of men. \\ \7 By your most gracious pardon, I sing but after you. \\ \2 My salad days, When I was green in judgment: cold in blood, To say as I said then! But, come, away; Get me ink and paper: He shall have every day a several greeting, Or I'll unpeople Egypt. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Act \Scene{Messina. Pompey's house.} \(Enter \24, \21, and \20, in warlike manner.\) \24 If the great gods be just, they shall assist The deeds of justest men. \\ \21 Know, worthy Pompey, That what they do delay, they not deny. \24 Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays The thing we sue for. \\ \21 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. \\ \24 I shall do well: The people love me, and the sea is mine; My powers are crescent, 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: Caesar gets money where He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both, Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves, Nor either cares for him. \\ \20 Caesar and Lepidus Are in the field: a mighty strength they carry. \24 Where have you this? 'tis false. \\ \20 From Silvius, sir. \24 He dreams: I know they are in Rome together, Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love, Salt Cleopatra, soften thy waned lip! Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both! Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts, Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite; That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour Even till a Lethe'd dulness! \\ \(Enter \31.\) How now, Varrius! \31 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 further travel. \\ \24 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 Antony. \\ \20 I cannot hope Caesar and Antony shall well greet together: His wife that's dead did trespasses to Caesar; His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think, Not moved by Antony. \\ \24 I know not, Menas, How lesser enmities may give way to greater. Were't not that we stand up against them all, '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 their divisions and bind up The petty difference, we yet not know. Be't as our gods will have't! It only stands Our lives upon to use our strongest hands. Come, Menas. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Rome. The house of Lepidus.} \(Enter \13 and \17.\) \17 Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed, And shall become you well, to entreat your captain To soft and gentle speech. \\ \13 I shall entreat him To answer like himself: if Caesar move him, Let Antony look over Caesar's head And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter, Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard, I would not shave't to-day. \\ \17 'Tis not a time For private stomaching. \\ \13 Every time Serves for the matter that is then born in't. \17 But small to greater matters must give way. \13 Not if the small come first. \\ \17 Your speech is passion: But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes The noble Antony. \\ \(Enter \1 and \32.\) \13 And yonder, Caesar. \(Enter \3, \19, and \4.\) \1 If we compose well here, to Parthia: Hark, Ventidius. \\ \3 I do not know, Mecaenas; ask Agrippa. \\ \17 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 the sourest points with sweetest terms, Nor curstness grow to the matter. \\ \1 'Tis spoken well. Were we before our armies, and to fight. I should do thus. \[r]Flourish.\] \3 Welcome to Rome. \\ \1 Thank you. \\ \3 Sit. \\ \1 Sit, sir. \\ \3 Nay, then. \1 I learn, you take things ill which are not so, Or being, concern you not.\\ \3 I must be laugh'd at, If, or for nothing or a little, I Should say myself offended, and with you Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at, that I should Once name you derogately, when to sound your name It not concern'd me. \\ \1 My being in Egypt, Caesar, What was't to you? \3 No more than my residing 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. \\ \1 How intend you, practised? \3 You may be pleased to catch at mine intent By what did here befal me. Your wife and brother Made wars upon me; and their contestation Was theme for you, you were the word of war. \1 You do mistake your business; my brother never Did urge me in his act: I did inquire it; And have my learning from some true reports, 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 cause? Of this my letters Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel, As matter whole you have not to make it with, It must not be with this. \\ \3 You praise yourself By laying defects of judgment to me; but You patch'd up your excuses.\\ \1 Not so, not so; I know you could not lack, I am certain on't, Very necessity of this thought, that I, Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought, Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife, I would you had her spirit in such another: The third o' the world is yours; which with a snaffle You may pace easy, but not such a wife. \13 Would we had all such wives, that the men might go to wars with the women! \1 So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar Made out of her impatience, which not wanted Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant Did you too much disquiet: for that you must But say, I could not help it. \\ \3 I wrote to you When rioting in Alexandria; you Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts Did gibe my missive out of audience. \\ \1 Sir, He fell upon me ere admitted: then 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. \\ \3 You have broken The article of your oath; which you shall never Have tongue to charge me with. \\ \17 Soft, Caesar! \1 No, Lepidus, let him speak: The honour is sacred which he talks on now, Supposing that I lack'd it. But, on, Caesar; The article of my oath. \3 To lend me arms and aid when I required them; The which you both denied. \\ \1 Neglected, rather; And then when poison'd hours had bound me up From mine own knowledge. As 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. \\ \17 'Tis noble spoken. \19 If it might please you, to enforce no further The griefs between ye: to forget them quite Were to remember that the present need Speaks to atone you.\\ \17 Worthily spoken, Mecaenas. \13 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. \1 Thou art a soldier only: speak no more. \13 That truth should be silent I had almost forgot. \1 You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more. \13 Go to, then; your considerate stone. \3 I do not much dislike the matter, but The manner of his speech; for't 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 world I would pursue it. \\ \4 Give me leave, Caesar,--- \3 Speak, Agrippa. \4 Thou hast a sister by the mother's side, Admired Octavia: great Mark Antony Is now a widower. \\ \3 Say not so, Agrippa: If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof Were well deserved of rashness. \1 I am not married, Caesar: let me hear Agrippa further speak. \4 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 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, Where now half tales be truths: 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. \\ \1 Will Caesar speak? \3 Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd With what is spoke already. \\ \1 What power is in Agrippa, If I would say, `Agrippa, be it so,' To make this good? \\ \3 The power of Caesar, and His power unto Octavia. \\ \1 May 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 And sway our great designs! \\ \3 There is 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! \\ \17 Happily, amen! \1 I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst Pompey; For he hath laid strange courtesies and great Of late upon me: I must thank him only, Lest my remembrance suffer ill report; At heel of that, defy him. \\ \17 Time calls upon's: Of us must Pompey presently be sought, Or else he seeks out us. \\ \1 Where lies he? \3 About the mount Misenum. \\ \1 What is his strength? \3 By land, great and increasing: but by sea He is an absolute master. \\ \1 So is the fame. 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. \\ \3 With most gladness: And do invite you to my sister's view, Whither straight I'll lead you. \\ \1 Let us, Lepidus, Not lack your company. \\ \17 Noble Antony, Not sickness should detain me. \(Flourish. Exeunt \3, \1, and \17.\) \begin{PROSE} \19 Welcome from Egypt, sir. \13 Half the heart of Caesar, worthy Mecaenas! My honourable friend, Agrippa! \4 Good Enobarbus! \19 We have cause to be glad that matters are so well digested. You stayed well by 't in Egypt. \13 Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance, and made the night light with drinking. \19 Eight wild-boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and but twelve persons there; is this true? \13 This was but as a fly by an eagle: we had much more monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting. \19 She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to her. \13 When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up his heart, upon the river of Cydnus. \4 There she appeared indeed; or my reporter devised well for her. \end{PROSE} \13 I will tell you. The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver, 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--- O'er-picturing that Venus 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 the delicate cheeks which they did cool, And what they undid did. \\ \4 O, rare for Antony! \13 Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings: at the helm A seeming mermaid steers: the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible 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 too, And made a gap in nature. \\ \4 Rare Egyptian! \13 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 courteous Antony, Whom ne'er the word of `No' woman heard speak, Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast, And for his ordinary pays his heart For what his eyes eat only. \\ \4 Royal wench! She made great Caesar lay his sword to bed: He plough'd her, and she cropp'd. \\ \13 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 breathe forth. \19 Now Antony must leave her utterly. \13 Never; he will not: Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety: other women cloy The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies; for vilest things Become themselves in her: that the holy priests Bless her when she is riggish. \19 If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle The heart of Antony, Octavia is A blessed lottery to him. \\ \4 Let us go. Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest Whilst you abide here. \\[.] \13 Humbly, sir, I thank you. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{The same. Caesar's house.} \(Enter \1, \3, \22 between them,\\ and Attendants.\) \1 The world and my great office will sometimes Divide me from your bosom. \\ \22 All which time Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers To them for you. \\ \1 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. \3 Good night. \[r]Exeunt \3 and \22.\] \(Enter Soothsayer.\) \1 Now, sirrah; you do wish yourself in Egypt? \71 Would I had never come from thence, nor you Thither! \1 If you can, your reason? \\ \71 I see it in My motion, have it not in my tongue: but yet Hie you to Egypt again. \\ \1 Say to me, Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Caesar's or mine? \71 Caesar's. Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side: Thy demon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is Noble, courageous high, unmatchable, Where Caesar's is not; but, near him, thy angel Becomes a fear, as being o'erpower'd: therefore Make space enough between you. \\ \1 Speak this no more. \71 To none but thee; no more, but when to thee. If thou dost play with him at any game, Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck, He beats thee 'gainst the odds: thy lustre thickens, When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit Is all afraid to govern thee near him; But, he away, 'tis noble. \\ \1 Get thee gone: Say to Ventidius I would speak with him: \(Exit Soothsayer.\) He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap, He hath spoken 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. I will to Egypt: And though I make this marriage for my peace, I' the east my pleasure lies. \\ \(Enter \32.\) O, come, Ventidius, You must to Parthia: your commission's ready; Follow me, and receive't. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{The same. A street.} \(Enter \17, \19, and \4.\) \17 Trouble yourselves no further: pray you, hasten Your generals after. \\ \4 Sir, Mark Antony Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow. \17 Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress, Which will become you both, farewell. \\ \19 We shall, As I conceive the journey, be at the Mount Before you, Lepidus. \\ \17 Your way is shorter; My purposes do draw me much about: You'll win two days upon me. \\ \19 \4 Sir, good success! \17 Farewell. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.} \(Enter \2, \7, \16, and \5.\) \2 Give me some music; music, moody food Of us that trade in love. \\ \99 The music, ho! \(Enter \18.\) \2 Let it alone; let's to billiards: come, Charmian. \7 My arm is sore; best play with Mardian. \2 As well a woman with an eunuch play'd As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me, sir? \18 As well as I can, madam. \2 And when good will is show'd, though't come too short, The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now: Give me mine angle; we'll to the river: there, My music playing far off, I will betray Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended 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 caught.' \\ \7 '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. \\ \2 That time,---O times!--- 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. \\ \(Enter a \60.\) O, from Italy Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears, That long time have been barren. \\ \60 Madam, madam,--- \2 Antonius dead!---If thou say so, villain, Thou kill'st thy mistress: but well and free, If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here My bluest veins to kiss; a hand that kings Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing. \60 First, madam, he is well. \\ \2 Why, there's more gold. But, sirrah, mark, we use To say the dead are well: bring it to that, The gold I give thee will I melt and pour Down thy ill-uttering throat. \\ \60 Good madam, hear me. \2 Well, go to, I will; But there's no goodness in thy face: if Antony Be free and healthful,---so tart a favour To trumpet such good tidings! If not well, Thou shouldst come like a Fury crown'd with snakes, Not like a formal man. \\ \60 Will't please you hear me? \2 I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st: Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well, Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him, I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail Rich pearls upon thee. \\ \60 Madam, he's well. \\ \2 Well said. \60 And friends with Caesar. \\ \2 Thou'rt an honest man. \60 Caesar and he are greater friends than ever. \2 Make thee a fortune from me. \\ \60 But yet, madam,--- \2 I do not like `But yet,' it does allay The good precedence; fie upon `But yet'! `But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend, Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear, The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar: In state of health thou say'st; and thou say'st free. \60 Free, madam! no; I made no such report: He's bound unto Octavia. \\ \2 For what good turn? \60 For the best turn i' the bed. \\ \2 I am pale, Charmian. \60 Madam, he's married to Octavia. \2 The most infectious pestilence upon thee! \[r]Strikes him down.\] \60 Good madam, patience. \\ \2 What say you? Hence, \[r]Strikes him again.\] Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head: \[r]She hales him up and down.\] Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine, Smarting in lingering pickle. \\ \60 Gracious madam, I that do bring the news made not the match. \2 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. \\ \60 He's married, madam. \2 Rogue, thou hast lived too long. \\ \[r]Draws a knife.\] \60 Nay, then I'll run. What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. \[r]Exit.\] \7 Good madam, keep yourself within yourself: The man is innocent. \2 Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt. Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again: Though I am mad, I will not bite him: call. \7 He is afeard to come. \\ \2 I will not hurt him. These hands do lack nobility, that they strike A meaner than myself; since I myself Have given myself the cause. \\ \(Enter \60 again.\) 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 tidings tell Themselves when they be felt. \\ \60 I have done my duty. \2 Is he married? I cannot hate thee worser than I do, If thou again say `Yes.' \\ \60 He's married, madam. \2 The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still? \60 Should I lie, madam? \\ \2 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 Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married? \60 I crave your highness' pardon. \\ \2 He is married? \60 Take no offence that I would not offend you: To punish me for what you make me do. Seems much unequal: he's married to Octavia. \2 O, that his fault should make a knave of thee, That art not what thou'rt sure of! Get thee hence: The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy hand, And be undone by 'em! \[r]Exit \60\] \7 Good your highness, patience. \2 In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar. \7 Many times, madam. \\ \2 I am paid for't now. Lead me from hence: I faint: O Iras, Charmian! 'tis no matter. Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him Report the feature of Octavia, her years, Her inclination, let him not leave out The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly. \[r]Exit \5\] Let him for ever go:---let him not---Charmian, Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, The other way's a Mars. Bid you Alexas \[To \18\] Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian, But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Near Misenum.} \(Flourish. Enter \24 and \20 at one door, with drum and trumpet: at another, \3, \1, \17, \13, \19, with Soldiers marching.\) \24 Your hostages I have, so have you mine; And we shall talk before we fight. \\ \3 Most meet That first we come to words; and therefore have we Our written purposes before us sent; Which, if thou hast consider'd, let us know If 'twill tie up thy discontented sword, And carry back to Sicily much tall youth That else must perish here. \\ \24 To you all three, The senators alone of this great world, Chief factors for the gods, I do not know Wherefore my father should revengers want, Having a son and friends; since Julius Caesar, Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted, There saw you labouring for him. What was't That moved pale Cassius to conspire; and what Made the all-honour'd, honest Roman, Brutus, With the arm'd rest, courtiers and beauteous freedom, To drench the Capitol; but that they would Have one man but a man? And that is it Hath made me rig my navy; at whose burthen The anger'd ocean foams; with which I meant To scourge the ingratitude that despiteful Rome Cast on my noble father. \\ \3 Take your time. \1 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'er-count thee. \\ \24 At land, indeed, Thou dost o'er-count me of my father's house: But, since the cuckoo builds not for himself, Remain in't as thou mayst. \\ \17 Be pleased to tell us--- For this is from the present---how you take The offers we have sent you. \\ \3 There's the point. \1 Which do not be entreated to, but weigh What it is worth embraced. \\ \3 And what may follow, To try a larger fortune. \\ \24 You have made me offer Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I must Rid all the sea of pirates; then, to send Measures of wheat to Rome; this 'greed upon To part with unhack'd edges, and bear back Our targes undinted. \\ \3 \1 \17 That's our offer. \24 Know, then, I came before you here a man prepared To take this offer: but Mark Antony Put me to some impatience: though I lose The praise of it by telling, you must know, When Caesar and your brother were at blows, Your mother came to Sicily and did find Her welcome friendly. \\ \1 I have heard it, Pompey; And am well studied for a liberal thanks Which I do owe you. \\ \24 Let me have your hand: I did not think, sir, to have met you here. \1 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. \\ \3 Since I saw you last, There is a change upon you. \\ \24 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 vassal. \\ \17 Well met here. \24 I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are agreed: I crave our composition may be written, And seal'd between us. \\ \3 That's the next to do. \24 We'll feast each other ere we part; and let's Draw lots who shall begin. \\ \1 That will I, Pompey. \24 No, Antony, take the lot: but, first Or last, your fine Egyptian cookery Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar Grew fat with feasting there. \\ \1 You have heard much. \24 I have fair meanings, sir. \\ \1 And fair words to them. \24 Then so much have I heard: And I have heard, Apollodorus carried--- \13 No more of that: he did so. \\ \24 What, I pray you? \13 A certain queen to Caesar in a mattress. \24 I know thee now: how farest thou, soldier? \\ \13 Well; And well am like to do; for, I perceive, Four feasts are toward. \\ \24 Let me shake thy hand; I never hated thee: I have seen thee fight, When I have envied thy behavior. \\ \13 Sir, I never loved you much; but I ha' praised ye, When you have well deserved ten times as much As I have said you did. \\ \24 Enjoy thy plainness, It nothing ill becomes thee. Aboard my galley I invite you all: Will you lead, lords? \\ \3 \1 \17 Show us the way, sir. \\ \24 Come. \[r]Exeunt all but \20 and \13\] \begin{PROSE} \20 \[Aside.\] Thy father, Pompey, would ne'er have made this treaty.---You and I have known, sir. \13 At sea, I think. \20 We have, sir. \13 You have done well by water. \20 And you by land. \13 I will praise any man that will praise me; though it cannot be denied what I have done by land. \20 Nor what I have done by water. \13 Yes, something you can deny for your own safety: you have been a great thief by sea. \20 And you by land. \13 There I deny my land service. But give me your hand, Menas: if our eyes had authority, here they might take two thieves kissing. \20 All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their hands are. \13 But there is never a fair woman has a true face. \20 No slander; they steal hearts. \13 We came hither to fight with you. \20 For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a drinking. Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune. \13 If he do, sure, he cannot weep't back again. \20 You've said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony here: pray you, is he married to Cleopatra? \13 Caesar's sister is called Octavia. \20 True, sir; she was the wife of Caius Marcellus. \13 But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius. \20 Pray ye, sir? \13 'Tis true. \20 Then is Caesar and he for ever knit together. \13 If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would not prophesy so. \20 I think the policy of that purpose made more in the marriage than the love of the parties. \13 I think so too. But you shall find, the band that seems to tie their friendship together will be the very strangler of their amity: Octavia is of a holy, cold, and still conversation. \20 Who would not have his wife so? \13 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 Caesar; 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. \20 And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard? I have a health for you. \13 I shall take it, sir: we have used our throats in Egypt. \20 Come, let's away. \[r]Exeunt.\] \end{PROSE} \Scene{On board Pompey's galley, off Misenum.} \(Music plays. Enter two or three Servants with a banquet.\) \begin{PROSE} \64 Here they'll be, man. Some o' their plants are ill-rooted already: the least wind i' the world will blow them down. \65 Lepidus is high-coloured. \64 They have made him drink alms-drink. \65 As they pinch one another by the disposition, he cries out `No more;' reconciles them to his entreaty, and himself to the drink. \64 But it raises the greater war between him and his discretion. \65 Why, this is to have a name in great men's fellowship: I had as lief have a reed that will do me no service as a partisan I could not heave. \64 To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen to move in't, are the holes where eyes should be, which pitifully disaster the cheeks. \end{PROSE} \(A sennet sounded. Enter \3, \1, \17, \24, \4, \19, \13, \20, with other captains.\) \1 \[To \3\] Thus do they, sir: they take the flow o' the Nile By certain scales i' the pyramid; they know, By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth Or foison follow: the higher Nilus swells, The more it promises: as it ebbs, the seedsman Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain, And shortly comes to harvest. \17 You've strange serpents there. \1 Ay, Lepidus. \begin{PROSE} \17 Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the operation of your sun: so is your crocodile. \1 They are so. \24 Sit,---and some wine! A health to Lepidus! \17 I am not so well as I should be, but I'll ne'er out. \13 Not till you have slept; I fear me you'll be in till then. \17 Nay, certainly, I have heard the Ptolemies' pyramises are very goodly things; without contradiction, I have heard that. \end{PROSE} \20 \[Aside to \24\] Pompey, a word. \\ \24 \[Aside to \20\] Say in mine ear: what is't? \20 \[Aside to \24\] Forsake thy seat, I do beseech thee, captain, And hear me speak a word. \\ \24 \[Aside to \20\] Forbear me till anon. This wine for Lepidus! \begin{PROSE} \17 What manner o' thing is your crocodile? \1 It is shaped, sir, like itself; and it is as broad as it hath breadth: it is just so high as it is, and moves with its own organs: it lives by that which nourisheth it; and the elements once out of it, it transmigrates. \17 What colour is it of? \1 Of it own colour too. \17 'Tis a strange serpent. \1 'Tis so. And the tears of it are wet. \3 Will this description satisfy him? \1 With the health that Pompey gives him, else he is a very epicure. \end{PROSE} \24 \[Aside to \20\] Go hang, sir, hang! Tell me of that? away! Do as I bid you. Where's this cup I call'd for? \20 \[Aside to \24\] If for the sake of merit thou wilt hear me, Rise from thy stool. \\ \24 \[Aside to \20\] I think thou'rt mad. The matter? \[r]Rises, and walks aside.\] \20 I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes. \24 Thou hast served me with much faith. What's else to say? Be jolly, lords. \\ \1 These quick-sands, Lepidus, Keep off them, for you sink. \20 Wilt thou be lord of all the world? \\ \24 What say'st thou? \20 Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? That's twice. \24 How should that be? \\ \20 But entertain it, And, though thou think me poor, I am the man Will give thee all the world. \\ \24 Hast thou drunk well? \20 Now, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup. Thou art, if thou darest be, the earthly Jove: Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips, Is thine, if thou wilt ha't. \\ \24 Show me which way. \20 These three world-sharers, these competitors, Are in thy vessel: let me cut the cable; And, when we are put off, fall to their throats: All there is thine. \\ \24 Ah, this thou shouldst have done, And not have spoke on't! In me 'tis villany; In thee't had been good service. Thou must know, 'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour; Mine honour, it. Repent that e'er thy tongue Hath so betray'd thine act: being done unknown, I should have found it afterwards well done; But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink. \20 \[Aside.\] For this, I'll never follow thy pall'd fortunes more. Who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis offer'd, Shall never find it more. \\ \24 This health to Lepidus! \1 Bear him ashore. I'll pledge it for him, Pompey. \13 Here's to thee, Menas! \\ \20 Enobarbus, welcome! \24 Fill till the cup be hid. \13 There's a strong fellow, Menas. \[r]Pointing to the Attendant who carries off Lepidus.\] \20 Why? \13 A' bears the third part of the world, man; see'st not? \20 The third part, then, is drunk: would it were all, That it might go on wheels! \13 Drink thou; increase the reels. \20 Come. \24 This is not yet an Alexandrian feast. \1 It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho? Here is to Caesar! \\ \3 I could well forbear't. It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain, And it grows fouler. \\ \1 Be a child o' the time. \3 Possess it, I'll make answer: But I had rather fast from all four days Than drink so much in one. \\ \13 \[To \1\] Ha, my brave emperor! Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals, And celebrate our drink? \\ \24 Let's ha't, good soldier. \1 Come, let's all take hands, Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense In soft and delicate Lethe. \\ \13 All take hands. Make battery to our ears with the loud music: The while I'll place you: then the boy shall sing; The holding every man shall bear as loud As his strong sides can volley. \[r]Music plays. Enobarbus places them hand in hand.\] \spatium {1ex} \numerus{} \hskip 8em \textsc{the song} {\Locus \textus {+\widthof{As his}} \Forma \strophae {000011} \numerus{-1} Come, thou monarch of the vine, Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne! In thy fats our cares be drown'd, With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd: Cup us, till the world go round, Cup us, till the world go round! } \spatium {1ex} \numerus{+0} \3 What would you more? Pompey, good night. Good brother, Let me request you off: our graver business Frowns at this levity. Gentle lords, let's part; You see we have burnt our cheeks: strong Enobarb Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue Splits what it speaks: the wild disguise hath almost Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good night. Good Antony, your hand. \\ \24 I'll try you on the shore. \1 And shall, sir; give's your hand. \\ \24 O Antony, You have my father's house. But, what? we are friends. Come, down into the boat. \\ \13 Take heed you fall not. \[r]Exeunt all but \13 and \20\] Menas, I'll not on shore. \\ \20 No, to my cabin. These drums! these trumpets, flutes! what! Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell To these great fellows: sound and be hang'd, sound out! \[r]Sound a flourish, with drums.\] \13 Ho! says a' There's my cap. \20 Ho! Noble captain, come. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Act \Scene{A plain in Syria.} \(Enter \32 as it were in triumph, with \28, and other Romans, Officers, and Soldiers; the dead body of \persona{Pacorus} borne before him.\) \32 Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck; and now Pleased fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death Make me revenger. Bear the king's son's body Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes, Pays this for Marcus Crassus. \\ \28 Noble Ventidius, Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm, The fugitive Parthians follow; spur through Media, Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither The routed fly: so thy grand captain Antony Shall set thee on triumphant chariots and Put garlands on thy head. \\ \32 O Silius, Silius, I have done enough; a lower place, note well, May make too great an act: for learn this, Silius; Better to leave undone, than by our deed Acquire too high a fame when him we serve's away. Caesar and Antony have ever won More in their officer than person: Sossius, One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant, For quick accumulation of renown, Which he achieved by the minute, lost his favour. Who does i' the wars more than his captain can Becomes his captain's captain: and ambition, The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, Than gain which darkens him. I could do more to do Antonius good, But 'twould offend him; and in his offence Should my performance perish. \\ \28 Thou hast, Ventidius, that Without the which a soldier, and his sword, Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony! \32 I'll humbly signify what in his name, That magical word of war, we have effected; How, with his banners and his well-paid ranks, The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia We have jaded out o' the field. \\ \28 Where is he now? \32 He purposeth to Athens: whither, with what haste The weight we must convey with's will permit, We shall appear before him. On there; pass along! \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Rome. An ante-chamber in Caesar's house.} \(Enter \4 at one door, \13 at another.\) \4 What, are the brothers parted? \13 They have dispatch'd with Pompey, he is gone; The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps To part from Rome; Caesar is sad; and Lepidus, Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled With the green sickness. \\ \4 'Tis a noble Lepidus. \13 A very fine one: O, how he loves Caesar! \4 Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony! \13 Caesar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men. \4 What's Antony? The god of Jupiter. \13 Spake you of Caesar? How! the non-pareil! \4 O Antony! O thou Arabian bird! \13 Would you praise Caesar, say `Caesar:' go no further. \4 Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises. \13 But he loves Caesar best; yet he loves Antony: Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, poets, cannot Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number, ho! His love to Antony. But as for Caesar, Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder. \\ \4 Both he loves. \13 They are his shards, and he their beetle. So; \[r]Trumpets within.\] This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa. \4 Good fortune, worthy soldier; and farewell. \(Enter \3, \1, \17, and \22\) \1 No further, sir. \3 You take from me a great part of myself; Use me well in 't. Sister, prove such a wife As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest band Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony, Let not the piece of virtue, which is set Betwixt us as the cement of our love, To keep it builded, be the ram to batter The fortress of it; for better might we Have loved without this mean, if on both parts This be not cherish'd. \\ \1 Make me not offended In your distrust. \\ \3 I have said. \\ \1 You shall not find, Though you be therein curious, the least cause For what you seem to fear: so, the gods keep you, And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends! We will here part. \3 Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well: The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well. \22 My noble brother! \1 The April 's in her eyes: it is love's spring, And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful. \22 Sir, look well to my husband's house; and--- \\ \3 What, Octavia? \\ \22 I'll tell you in your ear. \1 Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can Her heart inform her tongue,---the swan's down-feather, That stands upon the swell at full of tide, And neither way inclines. \13 \[Aside to \4\] Will Caesar weep? \\ \4 \[Aside to \13\] He has a cloud in 's face. \13 \[Aside to \4\] He were the worse for that, were he a horse; So is he, being a man. \\ \4 \[Aside to \13\] Why, Enobarbus, When Antony found Julius Caesar dead, He cried almost to roaring; and he wept When at Philippi he found Brutus slain. \13 \[Aside to \4\] That year, indeed, he was troubled with a rheum; What willingly he did confound he wail'd, Believe't, till I wept too. \\ \3 No, sweet Octavia, You shall hear from me still; the time shall not Out-go my thinking on you. \\ \1 Come, sir, come; I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love: Look, here I have you; thus I let you go, And give you to the gods. \\ \3 Adieu; be happy! \17 Let all the number of the stars give light To thy fair way! \\ \3 Farewell, farewell! \\ \[r]Kisses \22\] \1 Farewell! \[r]Trumpets sound. Exeunt.\] \Scene{Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.} \(Enter \2, \7, \16, and \5\) \2 Where is the fellow? \\ \5 Half afeard to come. \2 Go to, go to. Come hither, sir. \\ \(Enter the \60 as before.\) \5 Good majesty, Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you But when you are well pleased. \\ \2 That Herod's head I'll have: but how, when Antony is gone Through whom I might command it? Come thou near. \60 Most gracious majesty! \\ \2 Didst thou behold Octavia? \\ \60 Ay, dread queen. \\ \2 Where? \\ \60 Madam, in Rome; I look'd her in the face, and saw her led Between her brother and Mark Antony. \2 Is she as tall as me? \\ \60 She is not, madam. \2 Didst hear her speak? is she shrill-tongued or low? \60 Madam, I heard her speak; she is low-voiced. \2 That's not so good: he cannot like her long. \7 Like her! O Isis! 'tis impossible. \2 I think so, Charmian: dull of tongue, and dwarfish! What majesty is in her gait? Remember, If e'er thou look'dst on majesty. \\ \60 She creeps: Her motion and her station are as one; She shows a body rather than a life, A statue than a breather. \\ \2 Is this certain? \60 Or I have no observance. \\ \7 Three in Egypt Cannot make better note. \\ \2 He's very knowing; I do perceive't: there's nothing in her yet: The fellow has good judgment. \\ \7 Excellent. \2 Guess at her years, I prithee. \\ \60 Madam, She was a widow,--- \\ \2 Widow! Charmian, hark. \60 And I do think she's thirty. \2 Bear'st thou her face in mind? is't long or round? \60 Round even to faultiness. \2 For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so. Her hair, what colour? \\ \60 Brown, madam: and her forehead As low as she would wish it. \\ \2 There's gold for thee. Thou must not take my former sharpness ill: I will employ thee back again; I find thee Most fit for business: go make thee ready; Our letters are prepared. \\ \[r]Exit \60\] \7 A proper man. \2 Indeed, he is so: I repent me much That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him, This creature's no such thing. \\ \7 Nothing, madam. \2 The man hath seen some majesty, and should know. \7 Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend, And serving you so long! \2 I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian: But 'tis no matter; thou shalt bring him to me Where I will write. All may be well enough. \7 I warrant you, madam. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Athens. A room in Antony's house.} \(Enter \1 and \22\) \1 Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that,--- That were excusable, that, and thousands more Of semblable import,---but he hath waged New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it To public ear: Spoke scantly of me: when perforce he could not But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly He vented them; most narrow measure lent me: When the best hint was given him, he not took't, Or did it from his teeth. \\ \22 O my good lord, Believe not all; or, if you must believe, Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady, If this division chance, ne'er stood between, Praying for both parts: The good gods me presently, When I shall pray, `O bless my lord and husband!' Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud, `O, bless my brother!' Husband win, win brother, Prays, and destroys the prayer; no midway 'Twixt these extremes at all. \\ \1 Gentle Octavia, Let your best love draw to that point, which seeks Best to preserve it: if I lose mine honour, I lose myself: better I were not yours Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested, Yourself shall go between 's: the mean time, lady, I'll raise the preparation of a war Shall stain your brother: make your soonest haste; So your desires are yours. \\ \22 Thanks to my lord. The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak, Your reconciler! Wars 'twixt you twain would be As if the world should cleave, and that slain men Should solder up the rift. \1 When it appears to you where this begins, Turn your displeasure that way: for our faults Can never be so equal, that your love Can equally move with them. Provide your going; Choose your own company, and command what cost Your heart has mind to. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{The same. Another room.} \(Enter \13 and \14, meeting.\) \begin{PROSE} \13 How now, friend Eros! \14 There's strange news come, sir. \13 What, man? \14 Caesar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey. \13 This is old: what is the success? \14 Caesar, having made use of him in the wars 'gainst Pompey, presently denied him rivality; would not let him partake in the glory of the action: and not resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him: so the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine. \13 Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more; And throw between them all the food thou hast, They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony? \end{PROSE} \14 He's walking in the garden---thus; and spurns The rush that lies before him; cries, `Fool Lepidus!' And threats the throat of that his officer That murder'd Pompey. \\ \13 Our great navy's rigg'd. \14 For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius; My lord desires you presently: my news I might have told hereafter. \\ \13 'Twill be naught: But let it be. Bring me to Antony. \14 Come, sir. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Rome. Caesar's house.} \(Enter \3, \4, and \19\) \3 Contemning Rome, he has done all this, and more, In Alexandria: here's the manner of 't: I' the market-place, on a tribunal silver'd, Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold Were publicly enthroned: at the feet sat Caesarion, whom they call my father's son, And all the unlawful issue that their lust Since then hath made between them. Unto her He gave the stablishment of Egypt; made her Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia, Absolute queen. \\ \19 This in the public eye? \3 I' the common show-place, where they exercise. His sons he there proclaim'd the kings of kings: Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia. He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assign'd Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia: she In the habiliments of the goddess Isis That day appear'd; and oft before gave audience, As 'tis reported, so. \\ \19 Let Rome be thus Inform'd. \4 Who, queasy with his insolence Already, will their good thoughts call from him. \3 The people know it; and have now received His accusations. \\ \4 Who does he accuse? \3 Caesar: and that, having in Sicily Sextus Pompeius spoil'd, we had not rated him His part o' the isle: then does he say, he lent me Some shipping unrestored: lastly, he frets That Lepidus of the triumvirate Should be deposed; and, being, that we detain All his revenue. \\ \4 Sir, this should be answer'd. \3 'Tis done already, and the messenger gone. I have told him, Lepidus was grown too cruel; That he his high authority abused, And did deserve his change: for what I have conquer'd, I grant him part; but then, in his Armenia, And other of his conquer'd kingdoms, I Demand the like. \\ \19 He'll never yield to that. \3 Nor must not then be yielded to in this. \(Enter \22 with her train.\) \22 Hail, Caesar, and my lord! hail, most dear Caesar! \3 That ever I should call thee castaway! \22 You have not call'd me so, nor have you cause. \3 Why have you stol'n upon us thus! You come not Like Caesar's sister: the wife of Antony Should have an army for an usher, and The neighs of horse to tell of her approach Long ere she did appear; the trees by the way Should have borne men; and expectation fainted, Longing for what it had not; nay, the dust Should have ascended to the roof of heaven, Raised by your populous troops: but you are come A market-maid to Rome; and have prevented The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, Is often left unloved; we should have met you By sea and land; supplying every stage With an augmented greeting. \\ \22 Good my lord, To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony, Hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted My grieved ear withal; whereon, I begg'd His pardon for return. \\ \3 Which soon he granted, Being an obstruct 'tween his lust and him. \22 Do not say so, my lord. \\ \3 I have eyes upon him, And his affairs come to me on the wind. Where is he now? \\ \22 My lord, in Athens. \3 No, my most wronged sister; Cleopatra Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his empire Up to a whore; who now are levying The kings o' the earth for war; he hath assembled Bocchus, the king of Libya; Archelaus, Of Cappadocia; Philadelphos, king Of Paphlagonia; the Thracian king, Adallas; King Malchus of Arabia; King of Pont; Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, king Of Comagene; Polemon and Amyntas, The kings of Mede and Lycaonia, With a more larger list of sceptres. \\ \22 Ay me, most wretched, That have my heart parted betwixt two friends That do afflict each other! \\ \3 Welcome hither: Your letters did withhold our breaking forth; Till we perceived, both how you were wrong led, And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart; Be you not troubled with the time, which drives O'er your content these strong necessities; But let determined things to destiny Hold unbewail'd their way. Welcome to Rome; Nothing more dear to me. You are abused Beyond the mark of thought: and the high gods, To do you justice, make them ministers Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort; And ever welcome to us. \\ \4 Welcome, lady. \19 Welcome, dear madam. Each heart in Rome does love and pity you: Only the adulterous Antony, most large In his abominations, turns you off; And gives his potent regiment to a trull, That noises it against us. \\ \22 Is it so, sir? \3 Most certain. Sister, welcome: pray you, Be ever known to patience: my dear'st sister! \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Near Actium. Antony's camp.} \(Enter \2 and \13\) \2 I will be even with thee, doubt it not. \13 But why, why, why? \2 Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars, And say'st it is not fit. \\ \13 Well, is it, is it? \2 If not denounced against us, why should not we Be there in person? \\ \13 \[Aside.\] Well, I could reply: If we should serve with horse and mares together, The horse were merely lost; the mares would bear A soldier and his horse. \\ \2 What is't you say? \13 Your presence needs must puzzle Antony; Take from his heart, take from his brain, from's time, What should not then be spared. He is already Traduced for levity; and 'tis said in Rome That Photinus an eunuch and your maids Manage this war. \\ \2 Sink Rome, and their tongues rot That speak against us! A charge we bear i' the war, And, as the president of my kingdom, will Appear there for a man. Speak not against it: I will not stay behind. \\ \(Enter \1 and \6\) \13 Nay, I have done. Here comes the emperor. \\ \1 Is it not strange, Canidius, That from Tarentum and Brundusium He could so quickly cut the Ionian sea, And take in Toryne? You have heard on't, sweet? \2 Celerity is never more admired Than by the negligent. \\ \1 A good rebuke, Which might have well becomed the best of men, To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we Will fight with him by sea. \\ \2 By sea! what else? \6 Why will my lord do so? \\ \1 For that he dares us to't. \13 So hath my lord dared him to single fight. \22 Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia. Where Caesar fought with Pompey: but these offers, Which serve not for his vantage, be shakes off; And so should you. \\ \13 Your ships are not well mann'd; Your mariners are muleters, reapers, people Ingross'd by swift impress; in Caesar's fleet Are those that often have 'gainst Pompey fought: Their ships are yare; yours, heavy: no disgrace Shall fall you for refusing him at sea, Being prepared for land. \\ \1 By sea, by sea. \13 Most worthy sir, you therein throw away The absolute soldiership you have by land; Distract your army, which doth most consist Of war-mark'd footmen; leave unexecuted Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego The way which promises assurance; and Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard, From firm security. \\ \1 I'll fight at sea. \2 I have sixty sails, Caesar none better. \1 Our overplus of shipping will we burn; And, with the rest full-mann'd, from the head of Actium Beat the approaching Caesar. But if we fail, We then can do't at land. \\ \(Enter a Messenger.\) Thy business? \60 The news is true, my lord; he is descried; Caesar has taken Toryne. \1 Can he be there in person? 'tis impossible; Strange that power should be. Canidius, Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land, And our twelve thousand horse. We'll to our ship: Away, my Thetis! \\ \(Enter a Soldier.\) How now, worthy soldier? \66 O noble emperor, do not fight by sea; Trust not to rotten planks: do you misdoubt This sword and these my wounds? Let the Egyptians And the Phoenicians go a-ducking; we Have used to conquer, standing on the earth, And fighting foot to foot. \\ \1 Well, well: away! \[r]Exeunt Antony, Cleopatra and Enobarbus.\] \66 By Hercules, I think I am i' the right. \6 Soldier, thou art: but his whole action grows Not in the power on't: so our leader's led, And we are women's men. \\ \66 You keep by land The legions and the horse whole, do you not? \6 Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius, Publicola, and Caelius, are for sea: But we keep whole by land. This speed of Caesar's Carries beyond belief. \\ \66 While he was yet in Rome, His power went out in such distractions as Beguiled all spies. \\ \6 Who's his lieutenant, hear you? \66 They say, one Taurus. \\ \6 Well I know the man. \(Enter a Messenger.\) \60 The emperor calls Canidius. \6 With news the time's with labour, and throes forth, Each minute, some. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{A plain near Actium.} \(Enter \3, and \29, with his army, marching.\) \3 Taurus! \29 My lord? \3 Strike not by land; keep whole: provoke not battle, Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed The prescript of this scroll: our fortune lies Upon this jump. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Another part of the plain.} \(Enter \1 and \13\) \1 Set we our squadrons on yond side o' the hill, In eye of Caesar's battle; from which place We may the number of the ships behold, And so proceed accordingly. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Another part of the plain.} \(\6 marcheth with his land army one way over the stage; and \29, the lieutenant of \3, the other way. After their going in, is heard the noise of a sea-fight.\) \(Alarum. Enter \13\) \13 Naught, naught all, naught! I can behold no longer: The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral, With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder: To see't mine eyes are blasted. \\ \(Enter \26\) \26 Gods and goddesses, All the whole synod of them! \\ \13 What's thy passion! \26 The greater cantle of the world is lost With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away Kingdoms and provinces. \\ \13 How appears the fight? \26 On our side like the token'd pestilence, Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt,--- Whom leprosy o'ertake!---i' the midst o' the fight, When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd, Both as the same, or rather ours the elder, The breese upon her, like a cow in June, Hoists sails and flies. \13 That I beheld: Mine eyes did sicken at the sight, and could not Endure a further view. \\ \26 She once being loof'd, The noble ruin of her magic, Antony, Claps on his sea-wing, and, like a doting mallard, Leaving the fight in height, flies after her: I never saw an action of such shame; Experience, manhood, honour, ne'er before Did violate so itself. \\ \13 Alack, alack! \(Enter \6\) \6 Our fortune on the sea is out of breath, And sinks most lamentably. Had our general Been what he knew himself, it had gone well: O, he has given example for our flight, Most grossly, by his own! \13 Ay, are you thereabouts? Why, then, good night indeed. \\ \6 Toward Peloponnesus are they fled. \26 'Tis easy to't; and there I will attend What further comes. \\ \6 To Caesar will I render My legions and my horse: six kings already Show me the way of yielding. \\ \13 I'll yet follow The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason Sits in the wind against me. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.} \(Enter \1 with Attendants.\) \1 Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon't; It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither: I am so lated in the world, that I Have lost my way for ever: I have a ship Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly, And make your peace with Caesar. \\ \99 Fly! not we. \1 I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone; I have myself resolved upon a course Which has no need of you; be gone: My treasure's in the harbour, take it. O, I follow'd that I blush to look upon: My very hairs do mutiny; for the white Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them For fear and doting. Friends, be gone: you shall Have letters from me to some friends that will Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad, Nor make replies of loathness: take the hint Which my despair proclaims; let that be left Which leaves itself: to the sea-side straightway: I will possess you of that ship and treasure. Leave me, I pray, a little: pray you now: Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command, Therefore I pray you: I'll see you by and by. \[r]Sits down.\] \(Enter \2 led by \7 and \16; \14 following.\) \14 Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him. \16 Do, most dear queen. \7 Do! why: what else? \2 Let me sit down. O Juno! \1 No, no, no, no, no. \14 See you here, sir? \1 O fie, fie, fie! \7 Madam! \16 Madam, O good empress! \14 Sir, sir,--- \1 Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept His sword e'en like a dancer; while I struck The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I That the mad Brutus ended: he alone Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practise had In the brave squares of war: yet now---No matter. \2 Ah, stand by. \14 The queen, my lord, the queen. \16 Go to him, madam, speak to him: He is unqualitied with very shame. \2 Well then, sustain him: O! \14 Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches: Her head's declined, and death will seize her, but Your comfort makes the rescue. \1 I have offended reputation, A most unnoble swerving. \\ \14 Sir, the queen. \1 O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See, How I convey my shame out of thine eyes By looking back what I have left behind 'Stroy'd in dishonour. \\ \2 O my lord, my lord, Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought You would have follow'd. \\ \1 Egypt, thou knew'st too well My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings, And thou shouldst tow me after: o'er my spirit Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods Command me. \\ \2 O, my pardon! \\ \1 Now I must To the young man send humble treaties, dodge And palter in the shifts of lowness; who With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased, Making and marring fortunes. You did know How much you were my conqueror; and that My sword, made weak by my affection, would Obey it on all cause. \\ \2 Pardon, pardon! \1 Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates All that is won and lost: give me a kiss; Even this repays me. We sent our schoolmaster; Is he come back? Love, I am full of lead. Some wine, within there, and our viands! Fortune knows We scorn her most when most she offers blows. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Egypt. Caesar's camp.} \(Enter \3, \11, \30, with others.\) \3 Let him appear that's come from Antony. Know you him? \\ \11 Caesar, 'tis his schoolmaster: An argument that he is pluck'd, when hither He sends so poor a pinion off his wing, Which had superfluous kings for messengers Not many moons gone by. \\ \(Enter Ambassador from \1\) \3 Approach, and speak. \50 Such as I am, I come from Antony: I was of late as petty to his ends As is the morn-dew on the myrtle-leaf To his grand sea. \\ \3 Be't so: declare thine office. \50 Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and Requires to live in Egypt: which not granted, He lessens his requests; and to thee sues To let him breathe between the heavens and earth, A private man in Athens: this for him. Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness; Submits her to thy might; and of thee craves The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs, Now hazarded to thy grace. \\ \3 For Antony, I have no ears to his request. The queen Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend, Or take his life there: this if she perform, She shall not sue unheard. So to them both. \50 Fortune pursue thee! \\ \3 Bring him through the bands. \[r]Exit ambassador.\] \[To \30\] To try eloquence, now 'tis time: dispatch; From Antony win Cleopatra: promise, And in our name, what she requires; add more, From thine invention, offers: women are not In their best fortunes strong; but want will perjure The ne'er touch'd vestal: try thy cunning, Thidias; Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we Will answer as a law. \\ \30 Caesar, I go. \3 Observe how Antony becomes his flaw, And what thou think'st his very action speaks In every power that moves. \\ \30 Caesar, I shall. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.} \(Enter \2, \13, \7, and \16\) \2 What shall we do, Enobarbus? \\ \13 Think, and die. \2 Is Antony or we in fault for this? \13 Antony only, that would make his will Lord of his reason. What though you fled From that great face of war, whose several ranges Frighted each other? why should he follow? The itch of his affection should not then Have nick'd his captainship; at such a point, When half to half the world opposed, he being The meered question: 'twas a shame no less Than was his loss, to course your flying flags, And leave his navy gazing. \\ \2 Prithee, peace. \(Enter \1 with the Ambassador.\) \1 Is that his answer? \50 Ay, my lord. \1 The queen shall then have courtesy, so she Will yield us up. \\ \50 He says so. \\ \1 Let her know't. To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head, And he will fill thy wishes to the brim With principalities. \\ \2 That head, my lord? \1 To him again: tell him he wears the rose Of youth upon him; from which the world should note Something particular: his coin, ships, legions, May be a coward's; whose ministers would prevail Under the service of a child as soon As i' the command of Caesar: I dare him therefore To lay his gay comparisons apart, And answer me declined, sword against sword, Ourselves alone. I'll write it: follow me. \[r]Exeunt \1 and Ambassador.\] \13 \[Aside.\] Yes, like enough, high-battled Caesar will Unstate his happiness, and be staged to the show, Against a sworder! I see men's judgments are A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward Do draw the inward quality after them, To suffer all alike. That he should dream, Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will Answer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subdued His judgment too. \\ \(Enter a Servant.\) \63 A messenger from C\ae{}sar. \2 What, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, sir. \[r]Exit Servant.\] \13 \[Aside.\] Mine honesty and I begin to square. The loyalty well held to fools does make Our faith mere folly: yet he that can endure To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord Does conquer him that did his master conquer And earns a place i' the story.\\ \(Enter \30\) \2 Caesar's will? \30 Hear it apart. \\ \2 None but friends: say boldly. \30 So, haply, are they friends to Antony. \13 He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has; Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master Will leap to be his friend: for us, you know, Whose he is we are, and that is, Caesar's. \\ \30 So. Thus then, thou most renown'd: Caesar entreats, Not to consider in what case thou stand'st, Further than he is Caesar. \\ \2 Go on: right royal. \30 He knows that you embrace not Antony As you did love, but as you fear'd him. \\ \2 O! \30 The scars upon your honour, therefore, he Does pity, as constrained blemishes, Not as deserved. \\ \2 He is a god, and knows What is most right: mine honour was not yielded, But conquer'd merely. \\ \13 \[Aside.\] To be sure of that, I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky, That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for Thy dearest quit thee. \\ \[r]Exit.\] \30 Shall I say to Caesar What you require of him? for he partly begs To be desired to give. It much would please him, That of his fortunes you should make a staff To lean upon: but it would warm his spirits, To hear from me you had left Antony, And put yourself under his shrowd, The universal landlord. \\ \2 What's your name? \30 My name is Thidias. \\ \2 Most kind messenger, Say to great Caesar this: in deputation I kiss his conquering hand: tell him, I am prompt To lay my crown at 's feet, and there to kneel: Tell him from his all-obeying breath I hear The doom of Egypt. \\ \30 'Tis your noblest course. Wisdom and fortune combating together, If that the former dare but what it can, No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay My duty on your hand. \\ \2 Your Caesar's father oft, When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in, Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place, As it rain'd kisses. \\ \(Re-enter \1 and \13\) \1 Favours, by Jove that thunders! What art thou, fellow? \\ \30 One that but performs The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest To have command obey'd. \\ \13 \[Aside.\] You will be whipp'd. \1 Approach, there! Ah, you kite! Now, gods and devils! Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried `Ho!' Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth, And cry `Your will?' Have you no ears? I am Antony yet. \\ \(Enter Servants.\) Take hence this Jack, and whip him. \13 \[Aside.\] 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp Than with an old one dying. \\ \1 Moon and stars! Whip him. Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them So saucy with the hand of she here,---what's her name, Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows, Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face, And whine aloud for mercy: take him hence. \30 Mark Antony! \\ \1 Tug him away: being whipp'd, Bring him again: this Jack of Caesar's shall Bear us an errand to him. \[r]Exeunt Servants with Thidias.\] You were half blasted ere I knew you: ha! Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome, Forborne the getting of a lawful race, And by a gem of women, to be abused By one that looks on feeders? \\ \2 Good my lord,--- \1 You have been a boggler ever: But when we in our viciousness grow hard--- O misery on't!---the wise gods seel our eyes; In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us Adore our errors; laugh at's, while we strut To our confusion. \\ \2 O, is't come to this? \1 I found you as a morsel cold upon Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours, Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have Luxuriously pick'd out: for, I am sure, Though you can guess what temperance should be, You know not what it is. \\ \2 Wherefore is this? \1 To let a fellow that will take rewards And say `God quit you!' be familiar with My playfellow, your hand; this kingly seal And plighter of high hearts! O, that I were Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar The horned herd! for I have savage cause; And to proclaim it civilly, were like A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank For being yare about him. \\ \(Enter a Servant with Thidias.\) Is he whipp'd? \63 Soundly, my lord. \\ \1 Cried he? and begg'd a' pardon? \63 He did ask favour. \1 If that thy father live, let him repent Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry To follow Caesar in his triumph, since Thou hast been whipp'd for following him: henceforth The white hand of a lady fever thee, Shake thou to look on 't. Get thee back to Caesar, Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou say He makes me angry with him; for he seems Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am, Not what he knew I was: he makes me angry; And at this time most easy 'tis to do't, When my good stars, that were my former guides, Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires Into the abysm of hell. If he mislike My speech and what is done, tell him he has Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture, As he shall like, to quit me: urge it thou: Hence with thy stripes, begone! \[r]Exit Thidias.\] \2 Have you done yet? \\ \1 Alack, our terrene moon Is now eclipsed; and it portends alone The fall of Antony! \\ \2 I must stay his time. \1 To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes With one that ties his points? \\ \2 Not know me yet? \1 Cold-hearted toward me? \\ \2 Ah, dear, if I be so, From my cold heart let heaven engender hail, And poison it in the source; and the first stone Drop in my neck: as it determines, so Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite! Till by degrees the memory of my womb, Together with my brave Egyptians all, By the discandying of this pelleted storm, Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile Have buried them for prey! \\ \1 I am satisfied. Caesar sits down in Alexandria; where I will oppose his fate. Our force by land Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too Have knit again, and fleet, threatening most sea-like. Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady? If from the field I shall return once more To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood; I and my sword will earn our chronicle: There's hope in't yet. \2 That's my brave lord! \1 I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breathed, And fight maliciously: for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth, And send to darkness all that stop me. Come, Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more; Let's mock the midnight bell. \\ \2 It is my birth-day: I had thought to have held it poor: but, since my lord Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra. \1 We will yet do well. \2 Call all his noble captains to my lord. \1 Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen; There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight, I'll make death love me; for I will contend Even with his pestilent scythe. \[r]Exeunt all but Enobarbus.\] \13 Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious, Is to be frighted out of fear; and in that mood The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still, A diminution in our captain's brain Restores his heart: when valour preys on reason, It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek Some way to leave him. \[r]Exit.\] \Act \Scene{Before Alexandria. Caesar's camp.} \(Enter \3, \4, and \19, with his Army; \3 reading a letter.\) \3 He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power To beat me out of Egypt; my messenger He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal combat, Caesar to Antony: let the old ruffian know I have many other ways to die; meantime Laugh at his challenge. \\ \19 Caesar must think, When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now Make boot of his distraction: never anger Made good guard for itself. \\ \3 Let our best heads Know, that to-morrow the last of many battles We mean to fight: within our files there are, Of those that served Mark Antony but late, Enough to fetch him in. See it done: And feast the army; we have store to do't, And they have earn'd the waste. Poor Antony! \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.} \(Enter \1, \2, \13, \7, \16,\\ \5, with others.\) \1 He will not fight with me, Domitius. \\ \13 No. \1 Why should he not? \13 He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, He is twenty men to one. \\ \1 To-morrow, soldier, By sea and land I'll fight: or I will live, Or bathe my dying honour in the blood Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well? \13 I'll strike, and cry `Take all.' \\ \1 Well said; come on. Call forth my household servants: let's to-night \(Enter three or four Servitors.\) Be bounteous at our meal. Give me thy hand, Thou hast been rightly honest;---so hast thou;--- Thou,---and thou,---and thou:---you have served me well, And kings have been your fellows. \\ \2 \[Aside to \13\] What means this? \13 \[Aside to \2\] 'Tis one of those odd tricks which sorrow shoots Out of the mind. \\ \1 And thou art honest too. I wish I could be made so many men, And all of you clapp'd up together in An Antony, that I might do you service So good as you have done. \\ \99 The gods forbid! \1 Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night: Scant not my cups; and make as much of me As when mine empire was your fellow too, And suffer'd my command. \\ \2 \relax \[lb]Aside to \13\] What does he mean? \13 \[Aside to \2\] To make his followers weep. \\ \1 Tend me to-night; May be it is the period of your duty: Haply you shall not see me more; or if, A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow You'll serve another master. I look on you As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends, I turn you not away; but, like a master Married to your good service, stay till death: Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more, And the gods yield you for't! \\ \13 What mean you, sir, To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep; And I, an ass, am onion-eyed: for shame, Transform us not to women. \\ \1 Ho, ho, ho! Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus! Grace grow where those drops fall, my hearty friends, You take me in too dolorous a sense; For I spake to you for your comfort; did desire you To burn this night with torches: know, my hearts, I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you Where rather I'll expect victorious life Than death and honour. Let's to supper, come, And drown consideration. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{The same. Before the palace.} \(Enter two Soldiers to their guard.\) \67 Brother, good night: to-morrow is the day. \68 It will determine one way: fare you well. Heard you of nothing strange about the streets? \67 Nothing. What news? \68 Belike 'tis but a rumour. Good night to you. \67 Well, sir, good night. \\ \(Enter two other Soldiers.\) \69 Soldiers, have careful watch. \67 And you. Good night, good night. \[r]They place themselves in every corner of the stage.\] \68 Here we: and if to-morrow Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope Our landmen will stand up. \\ \67 'Tis a brave army, And full of purpose. \\ \[r]Music of the hautboys as under the stage.\] \68 Peace! what noise? \\ \67 List, list! \68 Hark! \\ \67 Music i' the air. \\ \69 Under the earth. \70 It signs well, does it not? \\ \69 No. \\ \67 Peace, I say! What should this mean? \68 'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved, Now leaves him. \\ \67 Walk; let's see if other watchmen Do hear what we do? \\ \68 How now, masters! \\ \99 \[Speaking together.\] How now! How now! do you hear this? \\ \67 Ay; is't not strange? \69 Do you hear, masters? do you hear? \67 Follow the noise so far as we have quarter; Let's see how it will give off. \\ \99 Content. 'Tis strange. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{The same. A room in the palace.} \(Enter \1 and \2, \7, and others\\ attending.\) \1 Eros! mine armour, Eros! \\ \2 Sleep a little. \1 No, my chuck. Eros, come; mine armour, Eros! \(Enter \14 with armour.\) Come good fellow, put mine iron on: If fortune be not ours to-day, it is Because we brave her: come. \\ \2 Nay, I'll help too. What's this for? \\ \1 Ah, let be, let be! thou art The armourer of my heart: false, false; this, this. \2 Sooth, la, I'll help: thus it must be. \\ \1 Well, well; We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good fellow? Go put on thy defences. \\ \14 Briefly, sir. \2 Is not this buckled well? \\ \1 Rarely, rarely: He that unbuckles this, till we do please To daff't for our repose, shall hear a storm. Thou fumblest, Eros; and my queen's a squire More tight at this than thou: dispatch. O love, That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew'st The royal occupation! thou shouldst see A workman in't. \\ \(Enter an armed Soldier.\) Good morrow to thee; welcome: Thou look'st like him that knows a warlike charge: To business that we love we rise betime, And go to't with delight. \\ \66 A thousand, sir, Early though't be, have on their riveted trim, And at the port expect you. \[r]Shout. Trumpets flourish.\] \(Enter Captains and Soldiers.\) \54 The morn is fair. Good morrow, general. \99 Good morrow, general. \\ \1 'Tis well blown, lads: This morning, like the spirit of a youth That means to be of note, begins betimes. So, so; come, give me that: this way; well said. Fare thee well, dame, whate'er becomes of me: This is a soldier's kiss: rebukeable \[r]Kisses her.\] And worthy shameful cheque it were, to stand On more mechanic compliment; I'll leave thee Now, like a man of steel. You that will fight, Follow me close; I'll bring you to't. Adieu. \[r]Exeunt \1, \14, Captains, and Soldiers.\] \7 Please you, retire to your chamber. \\ \2 Lead me. He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar might Determine this great war in single fight! Then Antony,---but now---Well, on. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Alexandria. Antony's camp.} \(Trumpets sound. Enter \1 and \14; a soldier meeting them.\) \66 The gods make this a happy day to Antony! \1 Would thou and those thy scars had once prevail'd To make me fight at land! \\ \66 Hadst thou done so, The kings that have revolted, and the soldier That has this morning left thee, would have still Follow'd thy heels. \\ \1 Who's gone this morning? \\ \66 Who! One ever near thee: call for Enobarbus, He shall not hear thee; or from Caesar's camp Say `I am none of thine.' \\ \1 What say'st thou? \\ \66 Sir, He is with Caesar. \\ \14 Sir, his chests and treasure He has not with him. \\ \1 Is he gone? \\ \66 Most certain. \1 Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it; Detain no jot, I charge thee: write to him--- I will subscribe---gentle adieus and greetings; Say that I wish he never find more cause To change a master. O, my fortunes have Corrupted honest men! Dispatch.---Enobarbus! \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Alexandria. Caesar's camp.} \(Flourish. Enter \3, \4, with \13,\\ and others.\) \3 Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight: Our will is Antony be took alive; Make it so known. \4 Caesar, I shall. \[r]Exit.\] \3 The time of universal peace is near: Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook'd world Shall bear the olive freely. \\ \(Enter a Messenger.\) \60 Antony Is come into the field. \\ \3 Go charge Agrippa Plant those that have revolted in the van, That Antony may seem to spend his fury Upon himself. \[r]Exeunt all but \13\] \13 Alexas did revolt; and went to Jewry on Affairs of Antony; there did persuade Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar, And leave his master Antony: for this pains Caesar hath hang'd him. Canidius and the rest That fell away have entertainment, but No honourable trust. I have done ill; Of which I do accuse myself so sorely, That I will joy no more. \\ \(Enter a Soldier of \3's.\) \66 Enobarbus, Antony Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with His bounty overplus: the messenger Came on my guard; and at thy tent is now Unloading of his mules. \\ \13 I give it you. \66 Mock not, Enobarbus. I tell you true: best you safed the bringer Out of the host; I must attend mine office, Or would have done't myself. Your emperor Continues still a Jove. \[r]Exit.\] \13 I am alone the villain of the earth, And feel I am so most. O Antony, Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid My better service, when my turpitude Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart: If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean Shall outstrike thought: but thought will do't, I feel. I fight against thee! No: I will go seek Some ditch wherein to die; the foul'st best fits My latter part of life. \[r]Exit.\] \Scene{Field of battle between the camps.} \(Alarum. Drums and trumpets. Enter \4 and others.\) \4 Retire, we have engaged ourselves too far: Caesar himself has work, and our oppression Exceeds what we expected. \[r]Exeunt.\] \(Alarums. Enter \1 and \26 wounded.\) \26 O my brave emperor, this is fought indeed! Had we done so at first, we had droven them home With clouts about their heads. \\ \1 Thou bleed'st apace. \26 I had a wound here that was like a T, But now 'tis made an H. \\ \1 They do retire. \26 We'll beat 'em into bench-holes: I have yet Room for six scotches more. \(Enter \14\) \14 They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves For a fair victory. \\ \26 Let us score their backs, And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind: 'Tis sport to maul a runner. \\ \1 I will reward thee Once for thy spritely comfort, and ten-fold For thy good valour. Come thee on. \\ \26 I'll halt after. \[r]Exeunt.\] \newpage \Scene{Under the walls of Alexandria.} \(Alarum. Enter \1, in a march; \26, with others.\) \1 We have beat him to his camp: run one before, And let the queen know of our gests. To-morrow, Before the sun shall see 's, we'll spill the blood That has to-day escaped. I thank you all; For doughty-handed are you, and have fought Not as you served the cause, but as 't had been Each man's like mine; you have shown all Hectors. Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends, Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss The honour'd gashes whole. \\ \(Enter \2, attended.\) \[l]To \26\] Give me thy hand To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts, Make her thanks bless thee. O thou day o' the world, Chain mine arm'd neck; leap thou, attire and all, Through proof of harness to my heart, and there Ride on the pants triumphing! \\ \2 Lord of lords! O infinite virtue, comest thou smiling from The world's great snare uncaught? \\ \1 My nightingale, We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! though grey Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha' we A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man; Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand: Kiss it, my warrior: he hath fought to-day As if a god, in hate of mankind, had Destroy'd in such a shape. \\ \2 I'll give thee, friend, An armour all of gold; it was a king's. \1 He has deserved it, were it carbuncled Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand: Through Alexandria make a jolly march; Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them: Had our great palace the capacity To camp this host, we all would sup together, And drink carouses to the next day's fate, Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters, With brazen din blast you the city's ear; Make mingle with rattling tabourines; That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together, Applauding our approach. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Caesar's camp.} \(Enter a Sentry and his company. \13 follows.\) \62 If we be not relieved within this hour, We must return to the court of guard: the night Is shiny; and they say we shall embattle By the second hour i' the morn. \\ \72 This last day was A shrewd one to's. \\ \13 O, bear me witness, night,--- \73 What man is this? \\ \72 Stand close, and list him. \13 Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon, When men revolted shall upon record Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did Before thy face repent! \\ \62 Enobarbus! \\ \73 Peace! Hark further. \13 O sovereign mistress of true melancholy, The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me, That life, a very rebel to my will, May hang no longer on me: throw my heart Against the flint and hardness of my fault: Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder, And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony, Nobler than my revolt is infamous, Forgive me in thine own particular; But let the world rank me in register A master-leaver and a fugitive: O Antony! O Antony! \\ \72 Let's speak To him. \62 Let's hear him, for the things he speaks May concern Caesar. \\ \72 Let's do so. But he sleeps. \62 Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his Was never yet for sleep. \\ \72 Go we to him. \73 Awake, sir, awake; speak to us. \\ \72 Hear you, sir? \62 The hand of death hath raught him. \\ \[l]Drums afar off.\] Hark! the drums Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him To the court of guard; he is of note: our hour Is fully out. \72 Come on, then; He may recover yet. \[r]Exeunt with the body.\] \Scene{Between the two camps.} \(Enter \1 and \26, with their Army.\) \1 Their preparation is to-day by sea; We please them not by land. \26 For both, my lord. \\ \1 I would they'ld fight i' the fire or i' the air; We'ld fight there too. But this it is; our foot Upon the hills adjoining to the city Shall stay with us: order for sea is given; They have put forth the haven Where their appointment we may best discover, And look on their endeavour. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Another part of the same.} \(Enter \3, and his Army.\) \3 But being charged, we will be still by land, Which, as I take't, we shall; for his best force Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales, And hold our best advantage. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Another part of the same.} \(Enter \1 and \26\) \1 Yet they are not join'd: where yond pine does stand, I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word Straight, how 'tis like to go. \\ \[r]Exit.\] \26 Swallows have built In Cleopatra's sails their nests: the augurers Say they know not, they cannot tell; look grimly, And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony Is valiant, and dejected; and, by starts, His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear, Of what he has, and has not. \\ \(Re-enter \1\) \1 All is lost; This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me: My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder They cast their caps up and carouse together Like friends long lost. Triple-turn'd whore! 'tis thou Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly; For when I am revenged upon my charm, I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone. \[r]Exit \26\] O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more: Fortune and Antony part here; even here Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark'd, That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am: O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,--- Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home; Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,--- Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose, Beguiled me to the very heart of loss. What, Eros, Eros! \\ \(Enter \2\) Ah, thou spell! Avaunt! \2 Why is my lord enraged against his love? \1 Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving, And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee, And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians: Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown For poor'st diminutives, for doits; and let Patient Octavia plough thy visage up With her prepared nails. \\ \[r]Exit \2\] 'Tis well thou'rt gone, If it be well to live; but better 'twere Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death Might have prevented many. Eros, ho! The shirt of Nessus is upon me: teach me, Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage: Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon; And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club, Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die: To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall Under this plot; she dies for't. Eros, ho! \[r]Exit.\] \Scene{Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.} \(Enter \2, \7, \16, and \18\) \2 Help me, my women! O, he is more mad Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly Was never so emboss'd. \\ \7 To the monument! There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead. The soul and body rive not more in parting Than greatness going off. \\ \2 To the monument! Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself; Say, that the last I spoke was `Antony,' And word it, prithee, piteously: hence, Mardian, And bring me how he takes my death to the monument! \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{The same. Another room.} \(Enter \1 and \14\) \1 Eros, thou yet behold'st me? \\ \14 Ay, noble lord. \1 Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish; A vapour sometime like a bear or lion, A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock, A forked mountain, or blue promontory With trees upon't, that nod unto the world, And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen these signs; They are black vesper's pageants. \\ \14 Ay, my lord, \1 That which is now a horse, even with a thought The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct, As water is in water. \\ \14 It does, my lord. \1 My good knave Eros, now thy captain is Even such a body: here I am Antony: Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave. I made these wars for Egypt: and the queen,--- Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine; Which whilst it was mine had annex'd unto't A million more, now lost,---she, Eros, has Pack'd cards with Caesar, and false-play'd my glory Unto an enemy's triumph. Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us Ourselves to end ourselves. \\ \(Enter \18\) O! thy vile lady! She has robb'd me of my sword. \\ \18 No, Antony; My mistress loved thee, and her fortunes mingled With thine entirely. \\ \1 Hence, saucy eunuch; peace! She hath betray'd me and shall die the death. \18 Death of one person can be paid but once, And that she has discharged: what thou wouldst do Is done unto thy hand: the last she spake Was `Antony! most noble Antony!' Then in the midst a tearing groan did break The name of Antony; it was divided Between her heart and lips: she render'd life, Thy name so buried in her. \\ \1 Dead, then? \\ \18 Dead. \1 Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done, And we must sleep. \[To \18\] That thou depart'st hence safe, Does pay thy labour richly; go.\\ \[r]Exit \18\] Off, pluck off: The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides! Heart, once be stronger than thy continent, Crack thy frail case! Apace, Eros, apace. No more a soldier: bruised pieces, go; You have been nobly borne. From me awhile. \[r]Exit \14\] I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now All length is torture: since the torch is out, Lie down, and stray no farther: now all labour Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles Itself with strength: seal then, and all is done. Eros!---I come, my queen:---Eros!---Stay for me: Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand, And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze: Dido and her \AE{}neas shall want troops, And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros! \(Re-enter \14\) \14 What would my lord? \\ \1 Since Cleopatra died, I have lived in such dishonour, that the gods Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack The courage of a woman; less noble mind Than she which by her death our Caesar tells `I am conqueror of myself.' Thou art sworn, Eros, That, when the exigent should come, which now Is come indeed, when I should see behind me The inevitable prosecution of Disgrace and horror, that, on my command, Thou then wouldst kill me: do't; the time is come: Thou strikest not me, 'tis Caesar thou defeat'st. Put colour in thy cheek. \\ \14 The gods withhold me! Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts, Though enemy, lost aim, and could not? \\ \1 Eros, Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome and see Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down His corrigible neck, his face subdued To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded His baseness that ensued? \\ \14 I would not see't. \1 Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured. Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn Most useful for thy country. \\ \14 O, sir, pardon me! \1 When I did make thee free, sworest thou not then To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once; Or thy precedent services are all But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come. \14 Turn from me, then, that noble countenance, Wherein the worship of the whole world lies. \1 Lo thee! \[r]Turning from him.\] \14 My sword is drawn. \\ \1 Then let it do at once The thing why thou hast drawn it. \\ \14 My dear master, My captain, and my emperor, let me say, Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell. \1 'Tis said, man; and farewell. \14 Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now? \\ \1 Now, Eros. \14 Why, there then: thus I do escape the sorrow Of Antony's death. \\ \[r]Kills himself.\] \1 Thrice-nobler than myself! Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros Have by their brave instruction got upon me A nobleness in record: but I will be A bridegroom in my death, and run into't As to a lover's bed. Come, then; and, Eros, Thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus \[r]Falling on his sword.\] I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead? The guard, ho! O, dispatch me! \\ \(Enter \8 and Guard.\) \57 What's the noise? \1 I have done my work in, friends: O, make an end Of what I have begun. \\ \58 The star is fall'n. \57 And time is at his period. \\ \99 Alas, and woe! \1 Let him that loves me strike me dead. \\ \57 Not I. \58 Nor I. \59 Nor any one. \[r]Exeunt Guards.\] \8 Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings, Shall enter me with him. \(Enter \10\) \10 Where's Antony? \\ \8 There, Diomed there. \\ \10 Lives he? Wilt thou not answer, man? \[r]Exit \8\] \1 Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me Sufficing strokes for death. \\ \10 Most absolute lord, My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee. \1 When did she send thee? \\ \10 Now, my lord. \\ \1 Where is she? \10 Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw--- Which never shall be found---you did suspect She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead; But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come, I dread, too late. \1 Too late, good Diomed: call my guard, I prithee. \10 What, ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho! Come, your lord calls! \(Enter four or five of the Guard of \1\) \1 Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides; 'Tis the last service that I shall command you. \57 Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear All your true followers out. \\ \99 Most heavy day! \1 Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome Which comes to punish us, and we punish it Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up: I have led you oft: carry me now, good friends, And have my thanks for all. \[r]Exeunt, bearing \1\] \Scene{The same. A monument.} \(Enter \2 and her maids aloft,\\ with \7 and \16\) \2 O Charmian, I will never go from hence. \7 Be comforted, dear madam. \\ \2 No, I will not: All strange and terrible events are welcome, But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow, Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great As that which makes it. \\ \(Enter, below, \10\) How now! is he dead? \10 His death's upon him, but not dead. Look out o' the other side your monument; His guard have brought him thither. \\ \(Enter, below, \1, borne by the Guard.\) \2 O sun, Burn the great sphere thou movest in! darkling stand The varying shore o' the world. O Antony, Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help; Help, friends below; let's draw him hither. \\ \1 Peace! Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony, But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself. \2 So it should be, that none but Antony Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so! \1 I am dying, Egypt, dying; only I here importune death awhile, until Of many thousand kisses the poor last I lay up thy lips. \\ \2 I dare not, dear,--- Dear my lord, pardon,---I dare not, Lest I be taken: not the imperious show Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs, serpents, have Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe: Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,--- Help me, my women,---we must draw thee up: Assist, good friends. \\ \1 O, quick, or I am gone. \2 Here's sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord! Our strength is all gone into heaviness, That makes the weight: had I great Juno's power, The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up, And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,--- Wishes were ever fools,---O, come, come, come; \[r]They heave \1 aloft to \2\] And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived: Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power, Thus would I wear them out. \\ \99 A heavy sight! \1 I am dying, Egypt, dying: Give me some wine, and let me speak a little. \2 No, let me speak; and let me rail so high, That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel, Provoked by my offence. \\ \1 One word, sweet queen: Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O! \2 They do not go together. \\ \1 Gentle, hear me: None about Caesar trust but Proculeius. \2 My resolution and my hands I'll trust; None about Caesar. \1 The miserable change now at my end Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts In feeding them with those my former fortunes Wherein I lived, the greatest prince o' the world, The noblest; and do now not basely die, Not cowardly put off my helmet to My countryman,---a Roman by a Roman Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going; I can no more. \\ \2 Noblest of men, woo't die? Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide In this dull world, which in thy absence is No better than a sty? O, see, my women, The crown o' the earth doth melt. \\ \[r]\1 dies.\] My lord! O, wither'd is the garland of the war, The soldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girls Are level now with men; the odds is gone, And there is nothing left remarkable Beneath the visiting moon. \\ \[r]Faints.\] \7 O, quietness, lady! \16 She is dead too, our sovereign. \\ \7 Lady! \\ \16 Madam! \7 O madam, madam, madam! \\ \16 Royal Egypt, Empress! \7 Peace, peace, Iras! \2 No more, but e'en a woman, and commanded By such poor passion as the maid that milks And does the meanest chares. It were for me To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods; To tell them that this world did equal theirs Till they had stol'n our jewel. All's but naught; Patience is scottish, and impatience does Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin To rush into the secret house of death, Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women? What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian! My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look, Our lamp is spent, it's out! Good sirs, take heart: We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, what's noble, Let's do it after the high Roman fashion, And make death proud to take us. Come, away: This case of that huge spirit now is cold: Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend But resolution, and the briefest end. \[r]Exeunt; those above bearing off \1's body.\] \Act \Scene{Alexandria. Caesar's camp.} \(Enter \3, \4, \11, \19, \15,\\ \25, and others, his council of war.\) \3 Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield; Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks The pauses that he makes. \\ \11 Caesar, I shall. \[r]Exit.\] \(Enter \8, with the sword of Antony.\) \3 Wherefore is that? and what art thou that darest Appear thus to us? \\ \8 I am call'd Dercetas; Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy Best to be served: whilst he stood up and spoke, He was my master; and I wore my life To spend upon his haters. If thou please To take me to thee, as I was to him I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not, I yield thee up my life. \\ \3 What is't thou say'st? \8 I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead. \3 The breaking of so great a thing should make A greater crack: the round world Should have shook lions into civil streets, And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony Is not a single doom; in the name lay A moiety of the world. \\ \8 He is dead, Caesar: Not by a public minister of justice, Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand, Which writ his honour in the acts it did, Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it, Splitted the heart. This is his sword; I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd With his most noble blood. \\ \3 Look you sad, friends? The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings To wash the eyes of kings. \\ \4 And strange it is, That nature must compel us to lament Our most persisted deeds. \\ \19 His taints and honours Waged equal with him. \\ \4 A rarer spirit never Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch'd. \19 When such a spacious mirror's set before him, He needs must see himself. \\ \3 O Antony! I have follow'd thee to this; but we do lance Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce Have shown to thee such a declining day, Or look on thine; we could not stall together In the whole world: but yet let me lament, With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts, That thou, my brother, my competitor In top of all design, my mate in empire, Friend and companion in the front of war, The arm of mine own body, and the heart Where mine his thoughts did kindle,---that our stars, Unreconciliable, should divide Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends--- But I will tell you at some meeter season: The business of this man looks out of him; We'll hear him what he says. \\ \(Enter an Egyptian.\) Whence are you? \12 A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress, Confined in all she has, her monument, Of thy intents desires instruction, That she preparedly may frame herself To the way she's forced to. \\ \3 Bid her have good heart: She soon shall know of us, by some of ours, How honourable and how kindly we Determine for her; for Caesar cannot live To be ungentle. \\ \12 So the gods preserve thee! \[r]Exit.\] \3 Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say, We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts The quality of her passion shall require, Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke She do defeat us; for her life in Rome Would be eternal in our triumph: go, And with your speediest bring us what she says, And how you find of her. \\ \25 Caesar, I shall. \[r]Exit.\] \3 Gallus, go you along. \[Exit \15\] Where's Dolabella, To second Proculeius? \\ \99 Dolabella! \3 Let him alone, for I remember now How he's employ'd: he shall in time be ready. Go with me to my tent; where you shall see How hardly I was drawn into this war; How calm and gentle I proceeded still In all my writings: go with me, and see What I can show in this. \[r]Exeunt.\] \Scene{Alexandria. A room in the monument.} \(Enter \2, \7, and \16\) \2 My desolation does begin to make A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Caesar; Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave, A minister of her will: and it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds; Which shackles accidents and bolts up change; Which sleeps, and never palates more the dug, The beggar's nurse and Caesar's. \(Enter, to the gates of the monument, \25, \15 and Soldiers.\) \25 Caesar sends greeting to the Queen of Egypt; And bids thee study on what fair demands Thou mean'st to have him grant thee. \\ \2 What's thy name? \25 My name is Proculeius. \\ \2 Antony Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but I do not greatly care to be deceived, That have no use for trusting. If your master Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him, That majesty, to keep decorum, must No less beg than a kingdom: if he please To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son, He gives me so much of mine own, as I Will kneel to him with thanks. \\ \25 Be of good cheer; You're fall'n into a princely hand, fear nothing: Make your full reference freely to my lord, Who is so full of grace, that it flows over On all that need: let me report to him Your sweet dependency; and you shall find A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness, Where he for grace is kneel'd to. \\ \2 Pray you, tell him I am his fortune's vassal, and I send him The greatness he has got. I hourly learn A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly Look him i' the face. \\ \25 This I'll report, dear lady. Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied Of him that caused it. \15 You see how easily she may be surprised: \[To \25 and the Guard.\] Guard her till Caesar come. \[r]Exit.\] \16 Royal queen! \7 O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen: \2 Quick, quick, good hands. \\ \[r]Drawing a dagger.\] \25 Hold, worthy lady, hold: \[r]Seizes and disarms her.\] Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this Relieved, but not betray'd. \\ \2 What, of death too, That rids our dogs of languish? \\ \25 Cleopatra, Do not abuse my master's bounty by The undoing of yourself: let the world see His nobleness well acted, which your death Will never let come forth. \\ \2 Where art thou, death? Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen Worthy many babes and beggars! \\ \25 O, temperance, lady! \2 Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir; If idle talk will once be necessary, I'll not sleep neither: this mortal house I'll ruin, Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court; Nor once be chastised with the sober eye Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up And show me to the shouting varletry Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies Blow me into abhorring! rather make My country's high pyramides my gibbet, And hang me up in chains! \\ \25 You do extend These thoughts of horror further than you shall Find cause in Caesar. \\ \(Enter \11\) \11 Proculeius, What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows, And he hath sent for thee: for the queen, I'll take her to my guard. \\ \25 So, Dolabella, It shall content me best: be gentle to her. \[To \2\] To Caesar I will speak what you shall please, If you'll employ me to him. \\ \2 Say, I would die. \[r]Exeunt \25 and Soldiers.\] \11 Most noble empress, you have heard of me? \2 I cannot tell. \\ \11 Assuredly you know me. \2 No matter, sir, what I have heard or known. You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams; Is't not your trick? \\ \11 I understand not, madam. \2 I dream'd there was an Emperor Antony: O, such another sleep, that I might see But such another man! \\ \11 If it might please ye,--- \2 His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck A sun and moon, which kept their course, and lighted The little O, the earth. \\ \11 Most sovereign creature,--- \2 His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm Crested the world: his voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas That grew the more by reaping: his delights Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back above The element they lived in: in his livery Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were As plates dropp'd from his pocket. \\ \11 Cleopatra! \2 Think you there was, or might be, such a man As this I dream'd of? \\ \11 Gentle madam, no. \2 You lie, up to the hearing of the gods. But, if there be, or ever were, one such, It's past the size of dreaming: nature wants stuff To vie strange forms with fancy; yet, to imagine And Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy, Condemning shadows quite. \\ \11 Hear me, good madam. Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it As answering to the weight: would I might never O'ertake pursued success, but I do feel, By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites My very heart at root. \\ \2 I thank you, sir, Know you what Caesar means to do with me? \11 I am loath to tell you what I would you knew. \2 Nay, pray you, sir,--- \\ \11 Though he be honourable,--- \2 He'll lead me, then, in triumph? \11 Madam, he will; I know't. \[c]Flourish, and shout within,\\ ``\textup{Make way there: Octavius Caesar!}''\] \(Enter \3, \15, \25, \19, \27, and others of his Train.\) \3 Which is the Queen of Egypt? \11 It is the emperor, madam. \[r]\2 kneels.\] \3 Arise, you shall not kneel: I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt. \\ \2 Sir, the gods Will have it thus; my master and my lord I must obey. \\ \3 Take to you no hard thoughts: The record of what injuries you did us, Though written in our flesh, we shall remember As things but done by chance. \\ \2 Sole sir o' the world, I cannot project mine own cause so well To make it clear; but do confess I have Been laden with like frailties which before Have often shamed our sex. \\ \3 Cleopatra, know, We will extenuate rather than enforce: If you apply yourself to our intents, Which towards you are most gentle, you shall find A benefit in this change; but if you seek To lay on me a cruelty, by taking Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself Of my good purposes, and put your children To that destruction which I'll guard them from, If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave. \2 And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we, Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord. \3 You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra. \2 This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels, I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued; Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus? \(Enter \27.\) \27 Here, madam. \2 This is my treasurer: let him speak, my lord, Upon his peril, that I have reserved To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus. \27 Madam, I had rather seal my lips, than, to my peril, Speak that which is not. \\ \2 What have I kept back? \27 Enough to purchase what you have made known. \3 Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve Your wisdom in the deed. \\ \2 See, Caesar! O, behold, How pomp is follow'd! mine will now be yours; And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine. The ingratitude of this Seleucus does Even make me wild: O slave, of no more trust Than love that's hired! What, goest thou back? thou shalt Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes, Though they had wings: slave, soulless villain, dog! O rarely base! \\ \3 Good queen, let us entreat you. \2 O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this, That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me, Doing the honour of thy lordliness To one so meek, that mine own servant should Parcel the sum of my disgraces by Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar, That I some lady trifles have reserved, Immoment toys, things of such dignity As we greet modern friends withal; and say, Some nobler token I have kept apart For Livia and Octavia, to induce Their mediation; must I be unfolded With one that I have bred? The gods! it smites me Beneath the fall I have. \[To \27.\] Prithee, go hence; Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits Through the ashes of my chance: wert thou a man, Thou wouldst have mercy on me. \\ \3 Forbear, Seleucus. \[r]Exit \27\] \2 Be it known, that we, the greatest, are misthought For things that others do; and, when we fall, We answer others' merits in our name, Are therefore to be pitied. \\ \3 Cleopatra, Not what you have reserved, nor what acknowledged, Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be't yours, Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe, Caesar's no merchant, to make prize with you Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd; Make not your thoughts your prisons: no, dear queen; For we intend so to dispose you as Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed, and sleep: Our care and pity is so much upon you, That we remain your friend; and so, adieu. \2 My master, and my lord! \\ \3 Not so. Adieu. \[r]Flourish. Exeunt \3 and his train.\] \2 He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not Be noble to myself: but, hark thee, Charmian. \[r]Whispers \7\] \16 Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are for the dark. \\ \2 Hie thee again: I have spoke already, and it is provided; Go put it to the haste. \\ \7 Madam, I will. \(Re-enter \11\) \11 Where is the queen? \\ \7 Behold, sir. \\ \[r]Exit.\] \2 Dolabella! \11 Madam, as thereto sworn by your command, Which my love makes religion to obey, I tell you this: Caesar through Syria Intends his journey; and within three days You with your children will he send before: Make your best use of this: I have perform'd Your pleasure and my promise. \\ \2 Dolabella, I shall remain your debtor. \\ \11 I your servant, Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Caesar. \2 Farewell, and thanks. \\ \[r]Exit \11\] Now, Iras, what think'st thou? Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown In Rome, as well as I mechanic slaves With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths, Rank of gross diet, shall be enclouded, And forced to drink their vapour. \\ \16 The gods forbid! \2 Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: saucy lictors Will catch at us, like strumpets; and scald rhymers Ballad us out o' tune: the quick comedians Extemporally will stage us, and present Our Alexandrian revels; Antony Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness I' the posture of a whore. \\ \16 O the good gods! \2 Nay, that's certain. \16 I'll never see 't; for, I am sure, my nails Are stronger than mine eyes. \\ \2 Why, that's the way To fool their preparation, and to conquer Their most absurd intents. \\ \(Re-enter \7\) Now, Charmian! Show me, my women, like a queen: go fetch My best attires: I am again for Cydnus, To meet Mark Antony: sirrah Iras, go. Now, noble Charmian, we'll dispatch indeed; And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee leave To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all. \[r]Exit \16. A noise within.\] Wherefore's this noise? \\ \(Enter a Guardsman.\) \56 Here is a rural fellow That will not be denied your highness presence: He brings you figs. \2 Let him come in. \\ \[r]Exit Guardsman.\] What poor an instrument May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty. My resolution's placed, and I have nothing Of woman in me: now from head to foot I am marble-constant; now the fleeting moon No planet is of mine. \\ \(Re-enter Guardsman, with Clown bringing in a basket.\) \56 This is the man. \2 Avoid, and leave him. \[r]Exit Guardsman.\] Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there, That kills and pains not? \begin{PROSE} \55 Truly, I have him: but I would not be the party that should desire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal; those that do die of it do seldom or never recover. \2 Rememberest thou any that have died on't? \55 Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, but something given to lie; as a woman should not do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the biting of it, what pain she felt: truly, she makes a very good report o' the worm; but he that will believe all that they say, shall never be saved by half that they do: but this is most fallible, the worm's an odd worm. \2 Get thee hence; farewell. \55 I wish you all joy of the worm. \[r]Setting down his basket.\] \2 Farewell. \55 You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind. \2 Ay, ay; farewell. \55 Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the keeping of wise people; for, indeed, there is no goodness in worm. \2 Take thou no care; it shall be heeded. \55 Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is not worth the feeding. \2 Will it eat me? \55 You must not think I am so simple but I know the devil himself will not eat a woman: I know that a woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her not. But, truly, these same whoreson devils do the gods great harm in their women; for in every ten that they make, the devils mar five. \2 Well, get thee gone; farewell. \55 Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy o' the worm. \[r]Exit.\] \end{PROSE} \(Re-enter \16 with a robe, crown and other jewels.\) \2 Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me: now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act; I hear him mock The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men To excuse their after wrath: husband, I come: Now to that name my courage prove my title! I am fire and air; my other elements I give to baser life. So; have you done? Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell. \[r]Kisses them. \16 falls and dies.\] Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? If thou and nature can so gently part, The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still? If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world It is not worth leave-taking. \7 Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say, The gods themselves do weep! \\ \2 This proves me base: If she first meet the curled Antony, He'll make demand of her, and spend that kiss Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou mortal wretch, \[To an asp, which she applies to her breast.\] % With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak, That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass Unpolicied! \\ \7 O eastern star! \\ \2 Peace, peace! Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, That sucks the nurse asleep? \\ \7 O, break! O, break! \2 As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,--- O Antony!---Nay, I will take thee too. \[r]Applying another asp to her arm.\] What should I stay--- \[r]Dies.\] \7 In this vile world? So, fare thee well. Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows, close; And golden Phoebus never be beheld Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry; I'll mend it, and then play. \(Enter the Guard, rushing in.\) \57 Where is the queen? \\ \7 Speak softly, wake her not. \57 Caesar hath sent--- \\ \7 Too slow a messenger. \[r]Applies an asp.\] O, come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee. \57 Approach, ho! All's not well: Caesar's beguiled. \58 There's Dolabella sent from Caesar; call him. \57 What work is here! Charmian, is this well done? \7 It is well done, and fitting for a princess Descended of so many royal kings. Ah, soldier! \[r]Dies.\] \(Re-enter \11\) \11 How goes it here? \\ \58 \11 Caesar, thy thoughts Touch their effects in this: thyself art coming To see perform'd the dreaded act which thou So sought'st to hinder. \[r]Within `\textup{A way there, a way for Caesar!}'\] \(Re-enter \3 and all his train marching.\) \11 O sir, you are too sure an augurer; That you did fear is done. \\ \3 Bravest at the last, She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal, Took her own way. The manner of their deaths? I do not see them bleed. \\ \11 Who was last with them? \57 A simple countryman, that brought her figs: This was his basket. \\ \3 Poison'd, then. \\ \57 O Caesar, This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake: I found her trimming up the diadem On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood And on the sudden dropp'd. \\ \3 O noble weakness! If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear By external swelling: but she looks like sleep, As she would catch another Antony In her strong toil of grace. \\ \11 Here, on her breast, There is a vent of blood and something blown: The like is on her arm. \57 This is an aspic's trail: and these fig-leaves Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves Upon the caves of Nile. \\ \3 Most probable That so she died; for her physician tells me She hath pursued conclusions infinite Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed; And bear her women from the monument: She shall be buried by her Antony: No grave upon the earth shall clip in it A pair so famous. High events as these Strike those that make them; and their story is No less in pity than his glory which Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall In solemn show attend this funeral; And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see High order in this great solemnity. \[r]Exeunt.\] \endVersus \endDrama %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% \BackMatter {Antony and Cleopatra} \chapter {Appendices} \section{`An arm-gaunt steed'} \noindent\lorem [2314] \section{Mislineation} \noindent\lorem [14312] \section{Punctuation} \noindent\lorem [22315] \section{Scenes \textsc{iv}.xv and \textsc{v}.ii} \noindent\lorem [331] \newpage \newcommand {\GlossWidth}{.66in} \newcommand {\GlossSep} {10pt} \Locus \textus {\leftmargin \\ \leftmargin + \GlossWidth + \GlossSep} \Modus {\measure {\textwidth - (\GlossWidth + \GlossSep)}} \Novus \textus \gloss \Locus {\textrightmargin + \GlossSep \\ \leftmargin } \Facies {\RelSize{-3}#1} \Modus {\rangedleft{\GlossWidth} \milestone} \Facies \commissura {\llap{\P\kern 5em}} \numerus {} \section{Extracts from North's \textit{Plutarch}} \prosa %LXVI. \noindent When the skirmish began, and that they came to join, there was no great hurt at the first meeting, neither did the ships vehemently hit one against the other, as they do commonly in fight by sea. For on the other side Antonius' ships, for their heaviness, could not have the strength and swiftness to make their blows of any force: and Caesar's ships on the other side took great heed not to rush and shock with the forecastles of Antonius' ships, whose prows were armed with great brazen spurs. Furthermore they durst not flank them, because their points were easily broken, which way soever they came to set upon his ships, that were made of great main square pieces of timber, bound together with great iron pins: so that the battle was much like unto a battle by land, or to speak more properly, to the assault of a city. For there were always three or four of Caesar's ships about one of Antonius' ships, and the soldiers fought with their pikes, halbards and darts, and threw halbards and darts with fire. Antonius' ships on the other side bestowed among them, with their crossbows and engines of battery, great store of shot from their high towers of wood that were set upon their ships. Now Publicola seeing Agrippa put forth his left wing of Caesar's army, to compass in Antonius' ships that fought, he was driven also to loof off to have more room, and to go a little at one side, to put those farther off that were afraid, and in the midst of the battle, for they were sore distressed by Arruntius. Howbeit the battle was yet of even hand, and the victory doubtful, being indifferent to both: when suddenly they saw the threescore ships of \gloss{Cleopatra flieth.} Cleopatra busily about their yard-masts, and hoising sail to fly. So they fled through the middest of them that were in fight, for they had been placed behind the great ships, and did marvellously disorder the other ships. For the enemies themselves wondered much to see them sail in that sort, with full sail towards Peloponnesus. There \gloss{The soul of a lover liveth in another body.} Antonius shewed plainly, that he had not only lost the courage and heart of an emperor, but also of a valiant man; and that he was not his own man (proving that true which an old man spake in mirth, that the soul of a lover lived in another body, and not in his own); he was so carried away with the vain love of this woman, as if he had been glued unto her, and that she could not have removed without moving of him also. For \gloss{Antonius flieth after Cleopatra.} when he saw Cleopatra's ship under sail, he forgot, forsook, and betrayed them that fought for him, and imbarked upon a galley with five banks of oars, to follow her that had already begun to overthrow him, and would in the end be his utter destruction. %LXVII. When she knew his galley afar off, she lift up a sign in the poop of her ship; and so Antonius, coming to it, was plucked up where Cleopatra was: howbeit he saw her not at his first coming, nor she him, but went and sat down alone in the prow of his ship, and said never a word, clapping his head between both his hands. In the meantime came certain light brigantines of Caesar's, that followed him hard. So Antonius straight turned the prow of his ship, and presently put the rest to flight, saving one Eurycles a Lacedaemonian, that followed him near, and pressed upon him with great courage, shaking a dart in his hand over the prow, as though he would have thrown it unto Antonius. Antonius seeing him, came to the forecastle of his ship, and asked him what he was that durst follow Antonius so near? ``I am,'' answered he, ``Eurycles the son of Lachares, who through Caesar's good fortune seeketh to revenge the death of my father.'' This Lachares was condemned of felony, beheaded by Antonius. But yet Eurycles durst not venture upon Antonius' ship, but set upon the other admiral galley (for there were two), and fell upon him with such a blow of his brazen spur that was so heavy and big, that he turned her round, and took her, with another that was loden with very rich stuff and carriage. After Eurycles had left Antonius, he turned again to his place, and sat down, speaking never a word, as he did before: and so lived three days alone, without speaking to any man. But when he arrived at the head of Taenarus, there Cleopatra's women first brought Antonius and Cleopatra to speak together, and afterwards to sup and lie together. Then began there again a great number of merchants' ships to gather about them, and some of their friends that had escaped from this overthrow, who brought news' that his army by sea was overthrown, but that they thought the army by land was yet whole. Then Antonius sent unto Canidius, to return with his army into Asia by \gloss{Antonius licenceth his\\ friends to\\ depart, and giveth them\\ a shippe\\ loaden with\\ gold and\\ silver.} Macedon. Now for himself, he determined to cross over into Af\-ri\-ca, and took one of his carects or hulks loden with gold and silver, and other rich carriage and gave it unto his friends, commanding them to depart, and seek to save themselves. They answered him weeping, that they would neither do it, nor yet forsake him. Then Antonius very courteously and lovingly did comfort them, and prayed them to depart; and wrote unto Theophilus, governor of Corinth, that he would see them safe, and help to hide them in some secret place, until they had made their way and peace with Caesar. This Theophilus was the father of Hipparchus, who was had in great estimation about Antonius. He was the first of all his enfranchised bondmen that revolted from him, and yielded unto Caesar, and afterwards went and dwelt at Corinth. %LXVIII. And thus it stood with Antonius. Now \gloss{Antonius' navy overthrown by Caesar.} for his army by sea, that fought before the head or foreland of Actium, they held out a long time, and nothing troubled them more than a great boisterous wind that rose full in the prows of their ships, and yet with much ado his navy was at length overthrown, five hours within night. There were not slain above five thousand men: but yet there were three hundred ships taken, as Octavius Caesar writeth himself in his Commentaries. Many plainly saw Antonius fly, and yet could very hardly believe it, that he, that had nineteen legions whole by land, and twelve thousand horsemen upon the sea-side, would so have forsaken them, and have fled so cowardly, as it he had not oftentimes proved both the one and the other fortune, and that he had not been thoroughly acquainted with the diverse changes and fortunes of battles. And yet his soldiers still wished for him, and ever hoped that he would come by some means or other unto them. Furthermore, they shewed themselves so valiant and faithful unto him, that after they certainly knew he was fled, they kept themselves whole together seven days. In the end Canidius, Antonius' lieutenant, flying by night, \gloss{Antonius' legions do yield themselves unto Octavius Caesar.} and forsaking his camp, when they saw themselves thus destitute of their heads and leaders, they yielded themselves unto the stronger. This done, Caesar sailed towards Athens, and there made peace with the Grecians, and divided the rest of the corn that was taken up for Antonius' army, unto the towns and cities of Greece, the which had been brought to extreme misery and poverty, clean without money, slaves, horse, and other beasts of carriage. So that my grandfather Nicarchus told that all the citizens of our city of Chaer\-o\-ne\-a (not one excepted) were driven themselves to carry a certain measure of corn on their shoulders to the sea-side, that lieth directly over against the ile of Anticyra, and yet were they driven thither with whips. They carried it thus but once: for the second time that they were charged again to make the like carriage, all the corn being ready to be carried, news came that Antonius had lost the battle, and so scaped our poor city. For Antonius' soldiers and deputies fled immediately, and the citizens divided the corn amongst them. %LXIX. Antonius being arrived in Lybia, he sent Cleopatra before into Egypt from the city of Paraetonium; and he himself remained very solitary, having only two of his friends with him, with whom he wandered up and down, both of them orators, the one Aristocrates a Grecian, and the other Lucilius a Roman: of whom we have written in another place, \gloss{Lucilius spoken of in Brutus' life.} that, at the battle where Brutus was overthrown by the city of Philippes, he came and willingly put himself into the hands of those that followed Brutus, saying that it was he: because Brutus in the meantime might have liberty to save himself. And afterwards, because Antonius saved his life, he still remained with him, and was very faithful \gloss{The fidelity of Lucilius unto Antonius.} and friend\-ly unto him till his death. But when Antonius heard that he whom he had trusted with the government of Lybia, and unto whom he had given the charge of his army there, had yielded unto Caesar, he was so mad withal, that he would have slain himself for anger, had not his friends about him withstood him, and kept him from it. So \gloss {The wonderful attempt of Cleopatra.} he went unto Alexandria, and there found Cleopatra about a wonderful enterprise, and of great attempt. Betwixt the Red Sea and the sea between the lands that point upon the coast of Egypt, there is a little piece of land that divideth both the seas, and separateth Africk from Asia: the which streight is so narrow at the end where the two seas are narrowest, that it is not above three hundred furlongs over. Cleopatra went about to lift her ships out of the one sea, and to hale them over the bank into the other sea: that when her ships were come into the gulf of Arabia, she might then carry all her gold and silver away, and so with a great company of men go and dwell in some place about the Ocean Sea, far from the sea Mediterraneum, to escape the danger and bondage of this war. But now, because the Arabians dwelling about the city of Petra, did burn the first ships that were brought to land, and that Antonius thought that his army by land which he left at Actium was yet whole, she left off her enterprise, and determined to keep all the ports and passages of her realm. Antonius, he forsook the city and company of his friends, and built him a house in the sea by the ile of Pharos, upon certain forced mounts which he caused to be cast into the sea, and dwelt there as a man that banished himself from all men's company: saying that he would lead Timon's life, \gloss{Antonius followeth the life and example of Timon Misanthropos the Athenian.} because he had the like wrong offered him, that was before offered unto Timon: and that for the unthankfulness of those he had done good unto, and whom he took to be his friends, he was angry with all men and would trust no man. % LXX. This Timon was a citizen of Athens, that lived about the war of Peloponnesus, as appeareth by Plato \gloss{Plato and Aristophanes' testimony of Timon Misanthropos, what he was.} and Aristophanes' comedies: in the which they mocked him, calling him a viper and malicious man unto mankind, to shun all other men's companies but the company of young Alcibiades, a bold and insolent youth, whom he would greatly feast and make much of, and kissed him very gladly. Apemantus wondering at it, asked him the cause what he meant to make so much of that young man alone, and to hate all others: Timon answered him, ``I do it,'' said he, ``because I know that one day he shall do great mischief unto the Athenians.'' This Timon sometimes would have Apemantus in his company, because he was much like of his nature and conditions, and also followed him in manner of life. On a time when they solemnly celebrated the feast called Choe at Athens (to wit, the feasts of the dead where they make sprinklings and sacrifices for the dead) and that they two then feasted together by themselves, Apemantus said unto the other: ``O, here is a trim banquet, Timon!'' Timon answered again: ``Yea,'' said he, ``so thou wert not here.'' It is reported of him also, that this Timon on a time (the people being assembled in the marI;et-place about dispatch of some affairs) got up into the pulpit for orations, where the orators commonly use to speak unto the people: and silence being made, every man listening to hear what he would say, because it was a wonder to see him in that place, at length he began to speak in this manner: ``My lords of Athens, I have a little yard at my house where there groweth a fig-tree, on the which many citizens have hanged themselves: and because I mean to make some building on the place, I thought good to let you all understand it, that, before the figtree be cut down, if any of you be desperate, you may there in time go hang yourselves.'' He died in the city of Hales, and was buried upon the sea-side. Now it chanced so, that the sea getting in, it compassed his tomb round about, that no man could come to it: and upon the same was written this epitaph: Here \gloss{The epitaph of Timon Misanthropos.} dies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft: Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked wretches left! It is reported that Timon himself, when he lived, made this epitaph: for that which is commonly rehearsed was not his, but made by the poet Callimachus: Here lie I, Timon, who alive all living men did hate: Pass by and curse thy fill: but pass, and stay not here thy gate. %LXXI. Many other things could we tell you of this Timon, but this Little shall suffice at this present. But now to return to Antonius again. Canidius himself came to bring him news, that he had lost all his army by land at Actium: on the other side he was advertised also, that Herodes king of Jurie, who had also certain legions and bands with him, was revolted unto Caesar, and all the other kings in like manner: so that, saving those that were about him, he had none left him. All this notwithstanding did nothing trouble him: and it seemed that he was contented to forgo all his hope, and so to be rid of all his cares and troubles. Thereupon he left his solitary house \gloss{Antonius' rioting in Alexandria after his great loss and overthrow.} he had built by the sea, which he called Timoneon and Cleopatra received him into her royal palace. He was no sooner come thither, but he straight set all the city on rioting and banqueting again, and himself to liberality and gifts. He caused the son of Julius Caesar \gloss{Toga virilis. Antyllus the eldest son of Antonius by his wife Fulvia.} and Cleopatra to be enrolled (according to the manner of the Romans) amongst the number of young men: and gave Antyllus, his eldest son he had by Fulvia, the man's gown, the which was a plain gown without gard or embroderie, of purple. For these things, there was kept great feasting, banqueting and dancing in Alexandria many days together. Indeed they did break their first order \gloss {An order erected by Antonius and Cleopatra, called Synapothanumenon, revoking the former called Amimetobion.} they had set down, which they called Amimetobion (as much to say, 'no life comparable'), and did set up another, which they called Synapothanumenon (signifying the order and agreement of those that will die together), the which in exceeding sumptuousness and cost was not inferior to the first. For their friends made themselves to be enrolled in this order of those that would die together, and so made great feasts one to another: for every man, when it came to his turn, feasted their whole company and fraternity. Cleopatra \gloss {Cleopatra very busy in proving the force of poison.} in the meantime was very careful in gathering all sorts of poisons together, to destroy men. Now to make proof of those poisons which made men die with least pain, she tried it upon condemned men in prison. For when she saw the poisons that were sudden and vehement, and brought speedy death with grievous torments; and in contrary manner, that such as were more mild and gentle had not that quick speed and force to make one die suddenly: she afterwards went about to prove the stinging of snakes and adders, and made some to be applied unto men in her sight, some in one sort, some in another. So \gloss {The property of the biting of an aspick.} when she had daily made divers and sundry proofs, she found none of them all she had proved so fit as the biting of an aspick, the which causeth only a heaviness of the head, without swooning or complaining, and bringeth a great desire also to sleep, with a little sweat in the face; and so by little and little taketh away the senses and vital powers, no living creature perceiving that the patients feel any pain. For they are so sorry when any body awaketh them and taketh them up, as those that be taken out of a sound sleep are very heavy and desirous to sleep % LXXII. This notwithstanding, they sent ambassadors unto Octavius Caesar in Asia, Cleopatra requesting the realm of Egypt for their children, and Antonius \gloss {Antonius and Cleopatra send ambassadors unto Octavius Caesar.}praying that he might be suffered to live at Athens like a private man, if Caesar would not let him remain in Egypt. And because they had no other men of estimation about them, for that some were fled, and those that remained they did not greatly trust, they were enforced to send Euphronius, the schoolmaster of their children. For Alexas Laodicean, who was brought into Antonius' house and favour by means of Timagenes, and afterwards was in greater credit with him than any other Grecian (for that he had ever been one of Cleopatra's ministers to win Antonius, and to overthrow all his good determinations to use his wife Octavia well?: him Antonius had sent unto Herodes king of Jurie, hoping still to keep him his friend, that he should not revolt from him. But he remained there, and betrayed Antonius. For where he should have kept Herodes from revolting from him, he persuaded him to turn to Caesar: and trusting king Herodes, he presumed to come in Caesar's presence. Howbeit Herodes did him no pleasure, for he was presently taken prisoner, and sent in chains \gloss {Alexas' treason justly punished.} to his own country, and there by Caesar's commandment put to death. Thus was Alexas, in Antonius' life-time, put to death for betraying of him. %LXXIII. Furthermore, Caesar would not grant unto Antonius' requests: but for Cleopatra, he made her answer, that he would deny her nothing reasonable, so that she would either put Antonius to death, or drive him out of her country. Therewithal he sent Thyreus one of his men unto her, a very wise and discreet man: who bringing letters of credit from a young lord unto a noble lady, and that besides greatly liked her beauty, might easily by his eloquence have persuaded her. He was longer in talk with her than any man else was, and the queen herself also did him great honour: insomuch as he made Antonius jealous of him. Whereupon Antonius caused him to be taken and well favouredly whipped, and so sent him unto Caesar: and bad him tell him, that he made him angry with him, because he shewed himself proud and disdainful towards him; and now specially, when he was easy to be angered, by reason of his present misery. ``To be short, if this mislike thee,'' said he, ``thou hast Hipparchus, one of my enfranchised bondmen, with thee: hang him if thou wilt, or whip him at thy pleasure, that we may cry quittance.'' From henceforth Cleopatra, to clear herself of the suspicion he had of her, made more of him than ever she did. For first of all, where she did solemnize the day of her birth very meanly and sparingly, fit for her present misfortune, she now in contrary manner did keep it with such solemnity, that she exceeded all measure of sumptuousness and magnificence: so that the guests that were bidden to the feasts, and came poor, went away rich. Now things passing thus, Agrippa by divers letters sent one after another unto Caesar, prayed him to return to Rome, because the affairs there did of necessity require his person and presence. %LXXIV. Thereupon he did defer the war till the next year following: but when winter was done, he returned again through Syria by the coast of Africa, to make wars a\-gainst Antonius and his other captains. When the city of Pelusium was taken, \gloss {Pelusium was yielded up to Octavius Caesar.} there ran a rumour in the city, that Seleucus (by Cleopatra's consent) had surrendered the same. But to clear herself that she did not, Cleopatra brought Seleucus' wife and children unto Antonius, to be revenged of them at his pleasure. Furthermore, \gloss {Cleopatra's monuments set up by the temple of Isis.} Cleopatra had long before made many sumptuous tombs and monuments, as well for excellency of workmanship, as for height and greatness of building, joining hard to the temple of Isis. Thither she caused to be brought all the treasure and precious things she had of the ancient kings her predecessors: as gold, silver, emeralds, pearls, ebony, ivory, and cinnamon, and besides all that, a marvellous number of torches, faggots, and flax. So Octavius Caesar, being afraid to lose such a treasure and mass of riches, and that this woman for spite would set it on fire and burn it every whit, he always sent some one or other unto her from him, to put her in good comfort, whilst he in the meantime drew near the city with his army. So Caesar came and pitched his camp hard by the city, in the place where they run and manage their horses. Antonius made a sally upon him, and fought very valiantly, so that he drave Caesar's horsemen back, fighting with his men even into their camp. Then he came again to the palace, greatly boasting of this victory, and sweetly kissed Cleopatra, armed as he was when he came from the fight, recommending one of his men of arms unto her, that had valiantly fought in this skirmish Cleopatra, to reward his manliness, gave him an armour and headpiece of clean gold: howbeit the man-at-arms, when he had, received this rich gift, stole away by night and went to Caesar. %LXXV. Antonius sent again to challenge Caesar to fight with him hand to hand. Caesar answered him, ``That he had many other ways to die than so.'' Then Antonius, seeing there was no way more honourable for him to die than fighting valiantly, he determined to set up his rest, both by sea and land. So being at supper (as it is reported) he commanded his officers and household servants that waited on him at his board, that they should fill his cups full, and make as much of him as they could: ``For,'' said he, ``you know not whether you shall do so much for me tomorrow or not, or whether you shall serve another master: and it may be you shall see me no more, but a dead body.'' This notwithstanding, perceiving that his friends and men fell a-weeping to hear him say so, to salve that he had spoken, he added this more unto it, 'that he would not lead them to battle, where he thought not rather safely to return with victory, than valiantly to die with honour.' Furthermore, the selfsame night, within a little of midnight, when all the city was quiet, full of fear and sorrow, thinking what would be the issue and end of this war, it is said that suddenly they heard a marvellous sweet \gloss {Strange noises heard, and nothing seen.} harmony of sundry sorts of instruments of music, with the cry of a multitude of people, as they had been dancing, and had sung as they use in Bacchus' feasts, with movings and turnings after the manner of the Satyrs: and it seemed, that this dance went through the city unto the gate that opened to the enemies, and that all the troupe, that made this noise they heard, went out of the city at that gate. Now such as in reason sought the depth of the interpretation of this wonder, thought that it was the god unto whom Antonius bare singular devotion to counterfeit and resemble him, that did forsake them. %LXXVI. The next morning by break of day, he went to set those few footmen he had in order upon the hills adjoining unto the city: and there he stood to behold his galleys which departed from the haven, and rowed against the galleys of the enemies, and so stood still, looking what exploits his soldiers in them would do. But when by force of rowing they were come near unto them, they first saluted Caesar's men; and then Caesar's men resaluted them also, and of two armies made but one: and then did all together row toward the city. When \gloss {Antonius' navy do yeild themselves unto Caesar. Antonius overthrown by Octavius Caesar. Cleopatra flieth into her tomb or monument.} Antonius saw that his men did forsake him, and yielded unto Caesar, and that his footmen were broken and overthrown, he then fled into the city, crying out that Cleopatra had betrayed him unto them with whom he had made war for her sake. Then she, being afraid of his fury, fled into the tomb which he had caused to be made, and there she locked the doors unto her, and shut all the springs of the locks with great bolts, and in the meantime sent unto Antonius to tell him that she was dead. Antonius believing it, said unto himself: ``What doest thou look for further, Antonius, sith spiteful fortune hath taken from thee the only joy thou hadst, for whom thou yet reservedst thy life ?'' When he had said these words, he went into a chamber and unarmed himself, and being naked, said thus: ``O Cleopatra, it grieveth me not that I have lost thy company, for I will not be long from thee: but I am sorry that, having been so great a captain and emperor, I am indeed condemned to be judged of less courage and noble mind than a woman '' Now he had a man of his called Eros, whom he loved and trusted much, and whom he had long before caused to swear unto him, that he should kill him when he did command him: and then he willed him to keep his promise. His man, drawing his sword, lift it up as though he had meant to have stricken his master: but turning his head at one side, he thrust his sword into himself, and fell down dead at his master's foot. \gloss {Eros, Antonius' servant, slew himself.} Then said Antonius: ``O noble Eros, I thank thee for this, and it is valiantly done of thee, to shew me what I should do to myself, which thou couldest not do for me.'' Therewithal \gloss {Antonius did thrust his sword into himself, but died not presently.} he took his sword, and thrust it into his belly, and so fell down upon a little bed. The wound he had killed him not presently, for the blood stinted a little when he was laid: and when he came somewhat to himself again, he prayed them that were about him to despatch him. But they all fled out of the chamber, and left him crying out, tormenting himself: until at last there came a secretary unto him (called Diomedes) who was commanded to bring him into the tomb or monument where Cleopatra was. %LXXVII. When he heard that she was alive, he very earnestly prayed his men to carry his body thither, and so he was carried \gloss {Antonius carried unto Cleopatra's tomb.} in his men's arms into the entry of the monument. Notwithstanding, Cleopatra would not open the gates, but came to the high windows, and cast out certain chains and ropes, in the which Antonius was trussed: and Cleopatra her own self, with two women only, which she had suffered to come with her into these monuments, trised Antonius up. They that were present to behold it said they \gloss {A lamentable sight to see Antonius and Cleopatra.} never saw so pitiful a sight. For they plucked up poor Antonius, all bloody as he was, and drawing on with pangs of death: who holding up his hands to Cleopatra, raised up himself as well as he could. It was a hard thing for these women to do, to lift him up: but Cleopatra, stooping down with her head, putting to all her strength to her uttermost power, did lift him up with much ado, and never let go her hold, with the help of the women beneath that bad her be of good courage, and were as sorry to see her labour so as she herself. So when she had gotten him in after that sort, and laid him on a bed, she rent her garments upon him, clapping her breast, and scratching her face and stomach. Then she dried up his blood that had bewrayed his face, and called him her lord, her husband, and emperor, forgetting her own misery and calamity for the pity and compassion she took of him. Antonius made her cease her lamenting, and called for wine, either because he was athirst, or else for that he thought thereby to hasten his death. When he had drunk, he earnestly prayed her, and persuaded her, that she would seek to save her life, if she could possible, without reproach and dishonour: and that chiefly she should trust Proculeius above any man else about Caesar. And as for himself, that she should not lament nor sorrow for the miserable change of his fortune at the end of his days: but rather that she should think him the more fortunate, for the former triumphs and honours he had received; considering that while he lived, he was the noblest and greatest prince of the world; and that now he was overcome, not cowardly, but valiantly, a Roman by another Roman. % LXXVIII. \gloss {The death of Antonius.} As Antonius gave the last gasp, Proculeius came that was sent from Caesar. For after Antonius had thrust his sword in himself, as they carried him into the tombs and monuments of Cleopatra, one of his guard (called Dercetaeus) took his sword with which he had stricken himself, and hid it: then he secretly stole away, and brought \gloss {Octavius Caesar lamenteth Antonius' death.} Octavius Caesar the first news of his death, and shewed him his sword that was bloodied. Caesar hearing this news, straight withdrew himself into a secret place of his tent, and there burst out with tears, lamenting his hard and miserable fortune, that had been his friend and brother-in-law, his equal in the empire, and companion with him in sundry great exploits and battles. Then he called for all his friends and shewed them the letters Antonius had written to him, and his answers also sent him again, during their quarrel and strife: and now fiercely and proudly the other answered him, to all just and reasonable matters he wrote unto him. After \gloss {Proculeius sent by Octavius Caesar to bring Cleopatra alive.} this, he sent Proculeius, and commanded him to do what he could possible to get Cleopatra alive, fearing lest otherwise all the treasure would be lost: and furthermore, he thought that if he could take Cleopatra, and bring her alive to Rome, she would marvellously beautify and set out his triumph. But Cleopatra would never put herself into Proculeius' hands, although they spake together. For Proculeius came to the gates that were thick and strong, and surely barred, but yet there were some cranewes through the which her voice might be heard; and so they without understood, that Cleopatra demanded the kingdom of Egypt for her sons: and that Proculeius answered her that she should be of good cheer, and not be afraid to refer all unto Caesar. % LXXIX. After he had viewed the place very well, he came and reported her answer unto Caesar: who immediately sent Gallus to speak once again with her, and bad him purposely hold her in talk, whilst Proculeius did set up a ladder against that high window by the which Antonius was trised up, and came down into the monument with two of his men, hard by the gate where Cleopatra stood to hear what Gallus said unto her. One of her women which was shut up in her monuments with her, saw Proculeius by chance as he came down, and skreeked out: ``O poor Cleopatra, thou art taken.'' Then when she saw Proculeius behind her as she came from the gate, she thought to have stabbed herself in with a short dagger she wore of purpose by her side. But \gloss {Cleopatra taken.} Proculeius came suddenly upon her, and taking her by both the hands, said unto her: ``Cleopatra, first thou shalt do thyself great wrong, and secondly unto Caesar, to deprive him of the occasion and opportunity openly to shew his bounty and mercy, and to give his enemies cause to accuse the most courteous and noble prince that ever was, and to appeach him, as though he were a cruel and merciless man, that were not to be trusted.'' So even as he spake the word, he took her dagger from her, and shook her clothes for fear of any poison hidden about her. Afterwards, Caesar sent one of his infranchised men called Epaphroditus, whom he straightly charged to look well unto her, and to beware in any case that she made not herself away: and for the rest, to use her with all the courtesy possible. % LXXX. And \gloss {Caesar took the city of Alexandria.} for himself, he in the meantime entered the city of Alexandria, and (as he went) talked with the philosopher Arrius, and held him by the hand, to the end that his countrymen should reverence him the more, because they saw Caesar so highly esteem and honour him. Then \gloss {Caesar greatly honoured Arrius the philosopher.} he went into the show-place of exercises, and so up to his chair of state which was prepared for him of a great height: and there, according to his commandment, all the people of Alexandria were assembled, who, quaking for fear, fell down on their knees before him and craved mercy. Caesar bad them all stand up, and told them openly that he forgave the people, and pardoned the felonies and offences they had committed against him in this war: first, for the founder's sake of the same city, which was Alexander the Great: secondly, for the beauty of the city, which he much esteemed and wondered at: thirdly, for the love he bare unto his very friend Arrius. Thus \gloss {Philostratus the eloquentest orator in his time for present speech upon a sudden.} did Caesar honour Arrius, who craved pardon for himself and many others, and specially for Philostratus, the eloquentest man of all the sophisters and orators of his time,for present and sudden speech: howbeit, he falsely named himself an Academic philosopher. Therefore Caesar, that hated his nature and conditions, would not hear his suit. Thereupon he let his grey beard grow long, and followed Arrius step by step in a long mourning gown, still buzzing in his ears this Greek verse: \begin{versus} \Locus \textus {+ 2em} A wise man, if that he be wise indeed, May by a wise man have the better speed. \end{versus} \noindent Caesar understanding this, not for the desire he had to deliver Philostratus of his fear, but to rid Arrius of malice and envy that might have fallen out against him, he pardoned him. % LXXXI. Now touching Antonius' sons, Antyllus, \gloss {Antyllus, Antonius' eldest son by Fulvia, slain.} his eldest son by Fulvia, was slain, because his schoolmaster The\-o\-do\-rus did betray him unto the soldiers, who strake off his head. And the villain took a precious stone of great value from his neck, the which he did sew in his girdle, and afterwards denied that he had it: but it was found about him, and so Caesar trussed him up for it. For Cleopatra's children, they were very honourably kept, with their governors and train that waited on them. But for Caesarion, who was said to be Julius Caesar's son, his mother Cleopatra had sent him unto the Indians through Ethiopia, with a great sum of money. But one of his governors also, called Rhodon, even such another as Theodorus, persuaded him to return into his country, and told him that Caesar sent for him to give him his mother's kingdom. So, \gloss {The saying of Arrius the philosopher.} as Caesar was determining with himself what he should do, Arrius said unto him: \begin{versus} \Locus \textus + Too many Caesars is not good, \end{versus} \noindent alluding unto a certain verse of Homer, that saith: \begin{versus} \Locus \textus + Too many lords cloth not well. \end{versus} % LXXXII. \noindent Therefore \gloss {Caesarion, Cleopatra's son, put to death.} Caesar did put Caesarion to death, after the death of his mother Cleopatra. Many princes, great kings, and captains, did crave Antonius' body of Octavius Caesar, to give him honourable burial: but Caesar would never take it from Cleopatra, \gloss {Cleopatra burieth Antonius.} who did sumptuously and royally bury him with her own hands, whom Caesar suffered to take as much as she would to bestow upon his funerals. Now was she altogether overcome with sorrow and passion of mind, for she had knocked her breast so pitifully, that she had martyred it, and in divers places had raised ulcers and inflammations, so that she fell into a fever withal; whereof she was very glad, hoping thereby to have good colour to abstain from meat, and that so she might have died easily without any trouble. She \gloss {Olympus, Cleopatra's physician.} had a physician called Olympus, whom she made privy to her intent, to the end he should help to rid her out of her life: as Olympus writeth himself, who wrote a book of all these things. But Caesar mistrusted the matter by many conjectures he had, and therefore did put her in fear, and threatened her to put her children to shameful death. With these threats, Cleopatra for fear yielded straight, as she would have yielded unto strokes: and afterwards suffered \gloss {Caesar came to see Cleopatra.}herself to be cured and dieted as they listed. % LXXXIII. Shortly after, Caesar came himself in person to see her, and to comfort her. Cleopatra, being laid upon a little low bed in poor estate (when she saw Caesar come into her chamber), suddenly rose up, \gloss {Cleopatra a martyred creature through her own passion and fury.} naked in her smock, and fell down at his feet marvellously disfigured: both for that she had plucked her hair from her head, as also for that she had martyred all her face with her nails; and besides, her voice was small and trembling, her eyes sunk into her head with continual blubbering ; and moreover, they might see the most part of her stomach torn in sunder. To be short, her body was not much better than her mind: yet her good grace and comeliness and the force of her beauty was not altogether defaced. But notwithstanding this ugly and pitiful state of hers, yet she shewed herself within, by her outward looks and countenance. When Caesar had made her lie down again, and sat by her bedside, Cleopatra began to clear and excuse herself for that she had done, laying all to the fear she had of Antonius: Caesar, in contrary manner, reproved her in every point. Then she suddenly altered her speech, and prayed him to pardon her, as though she were afraid to die, and desirous to live. At length, she gave him a brief and memorial of all the ready money and treasure she had. But \gloss {Seleucus,\\ one of Cleopatra's treasurers.} by chance there stood one Seleucus by, one of her treasurers, who, to seem a good servant, came straight to Caesar to disprove Cleopatra, that she had not set in all, but kept many things back of purpose. Cleopatra's words unto Caesar. Cleopatra was in such a rage with him, that she flew upon him, and took him by the hair of the head, and boxed \gloss {Cleopatra beat her treasurer before Octavius Caesar.} him wellfavouredly. Caesar fell a-laughing and parted the fray. ``Alas,'' said she, ``O Caesar: is not this a great shame and reproach, that thou having vouchsafed to take the pains to come unto me, and done me this honour, poor wretch and caitiff creature, brought into this pitiful and miserable state: and that mine own servants should come now to accuse me? though it may be I have reserved some jewels and trifles meet for women, but not for me (poor soul) to set out myself withal, but meaning to give some pretty presents and gifts unto Octavia and Livia, that they, making means and intercession for me to thee, thou mightest yet extend thy favour and mercy upon me.'' Caesar was glad to hear her say so, persuading himself thereby that she had vet a desire to save her life. So he made her answer, that he did not only give her that to dispose of at her pleasure which she had kept back, but further promised to use her more honourably and bountifully than she would think for: and so he took his leave of her, supposing he had deceived her, but indeed he was deceived himself. % LXXXIV. There was a young gentleman, Cornelius Dolabella, that was one of Caesar's very great familiars, and besides did bear no ill will unto Cleopatra. He \gloss {Cleopatra finely deceiveth Octavius Caesar, as though she desired to live.} He sent her word secretly (as she had requested him) that Caesar determined to take his journey through Syria, and that within three days he would send her away before with her children. When this was told Cleopatra, she requested Caesar that it would please him to suffer her to offer the last oblations of the dead unto the soul of Antonius. Thus being granted her, she was carried to the place where his tomb was, and there falling down on her knees, embracing the tomb with her women, the tears running down her cheeks, she began to speak \gloss {Cleopatra's lamentation over Antonius' tomb.} in this sort: ``O my dear lord Antonius, it is not long sithence I buried thee here, being a free woman: and now I offer unto thee the funeral sprinklings and oblations, being a captive and prisoner; and yet I am forbidden and kept from tearing and murdering this captive body of mine with blows, which they carefully guard and keep only to triumph of thee: look therefore henceforth for no other honours, offerings, nor sacrifices from me: for these are the last which Cleopatra can give thee, sith now they carry her away. Whilst we lived together, nothing could sever our companies: but now, at our death, I fear me they will make us change our countries For as thou, being a Roman, hast been buried in Egypt: even so, wretched creature, I, an Egyptian, shall be buried in Italy, which shall be all the good that I have received by thy country If therefore the gods where thou art now have any power and authority, sith our gods here have forsaken us, suffer not thy true friend and lover to be carried away alive, that in me they triumph of thee: but receive me with thee, and let me be buried in one self tomb with thee. For though my griefs and miseries be infinite, yet none hath grieved me more, nor that I could less bear withal, than this small time which I have been driven to live alone without thee.'' % LXXXV. Then having ended these doleful plaints, and crowned the tomb with garlands and sundry nosegays, and marvellous lovingly embraced the same, she commanded they should prepare her bath; and when she had bathed and washed herself, she fell to her meat, and was sumptuously served. Now whilst she was at dinner, there came a countryman and brought her a basket. The soldiers that warded at the gates, asked him straight what he had in his basket. He opened his basket, and took out the leaves that covered the figs, and shewed them that they were figs he brought. They all of them marvelled to see so goodly figs. The countryman laughed to hear them, and bade them take some if they would. They believed he told them truly, and so bade him carry them in. After Cleopatra had dined, she sent a certain table written and sealed unto Caesar, and commanded them all to go out of the tombs where she was, but the two women; then she shut the doors to her. Caesar, when he had received this table, and began to read her lamentation and petition, requesting him that he would let her be buried with Antonius, found straight what she meant, and thought to have gone thither himself: howbeit, he sent one before in all haste that might be, to see what it was. Her \gloss {The death of Cleopatra.} death was very sudden: for those whom Caesar sent unto her ran thither in all haste possible, and found the soldiers standing at the gate, mistrusting nothing, nor understanding of her death. But \gloss{Cleopatra's two waiting women dead with her.} when they had opened the doors, they found Cleopatra stark-dead, laid upon a bed of gold, attired and arrayed in her royal robes, and one of her two women, which was called Iras, dead at her feet: and her other woman (called Charmion) half dead, and trembling, trimming the diadem which Cleopatra wore upon her head. One of the soldiers seeing her, angrily said unto her: ``Is that well done, Charmion?'' ``Very well,'' said she again, ``and meet for a princess descended from the race of so many noble kings:'' she said no more, but fell down dead hard by the bed. % LXXXVI. Some report that this aspick was brought unto her in the basket with figs, and that she had commanded them to hide it under the fig-leaves, that when she should think to take out the figs, the aspick should bite her before she should see her: howbeit, that when she would have taken away the leaves for the figs, she perceived it, and said, ``Art thou here, then?'' And \gloss{Cleopatra \\killed with\\ the biting of\\ an aspick.} so, her arm being naked, she put it to the aspick to be bitten. Others say again, she kept it in a box, and that she did prick and thrust it with a spindle of gold, so that the aspick, being angered withal, leapt out with great fury, and bit her in the arm. Howbeit few can tell the troth. For they report also, that she had hidden poison in a hollow razor which she carried in the hair of her head; and yet was there no mark seen on her body, or any sign discerned that she was poisoned, neither also did they kind this serpent in her tomb: but it was reported only, that there was seen certain fresh steps or tracks where it had gone, on the tomb-side toward the sea, and specially by the door-side. Some say also that they found two little pretty bitings in her arm, scant to be discerned: the which it seemeth Caesar himself gave credit unto, because in his triumph he carried Cleopatra's \gloss{The image\\ of Cleopatra,\\ carried in\\ triumph at\\ Rome with\\ an aspick\\ biting of her\\ arm.} image, with an aspick biting of her arm. And thus goeth the report of her death. Now Caesar, though he was marvellous sorry for the death of Cleopatra, yet he wondered at her noble mind and courage, and therefore commanded she should be nobly buried, and laid by Antonius: and willed also that her two women should have honourable burial. \gloss{The age of Cleopatra and Antonius.} Cleopatra died being eight and thirty years old, after she had reigned two and twenty years, and governed about fourteen of them with Antonius. And for Antonius, some say that he lived three and fifty years: and others say, six and fifty. All his statues, images, and metals, were plucked down and overthrown, saving those of Cleopatra, which stood still in their places, by means of Archibius one of her friends, who gave Caesar a thousand talents that they should not be handled as those of Antonius were. %LXXXVII. Antonius left seven children by three wives, of the which Caesar did put Antyllus (the eldest son he had by Fulvia) to death. Octavia \gloss{Of Antonius' issue came emperors.} his wife took all the rest, and brought them up with hers, and married Cleopatra, Antonius' daughter, unto king Juba, a marvellous courteous and goodly prince. And Antonius (the son of Fulvia) came to be so great, that next unto Agrippa, who was in greatest estimation about Caesar, and next unto the children of Livia, which were the second in estimation, he had the third place. Furthermore, Octavia having had two daughters by her first husband Marcellus, and a son also called Marcellus, Caesar married his daughter unto that Marcellus, and so did adopt him for his son. And Octavia also married one of her daughters unto Agrippa. But when Marcellus was dead, after he had been married a while, Octavia, perceiving that her brother Caesar was very busy to choose some one among his friends, whom he trusted best, to make his son-in-law, she persuaded him that Agrippa should marry his daughter (Marcellus' widow), and leave her own daughter. Caesar first was contented withal, and then Agrippa: and so she afterwards took away her daughter and married her unto Antonius; and Agrippa married Julia, Caesar's daughter. Now there remained two daughters more of Octavia and Antonius: Domitius Aenobarbus married the one; and the other, which was Antonia, so fair and virtuous a young lady, was married unto Drusus, the son of Livia, and son-in-law of Caesar. Of this marriage came Germanicus and Clodius: of the which, Clodius afterwards came to be emperor. And of the sons of Germanicus, the one whose name was Caius came also to be emperor: who after he had licentiously reigned a time, was slain, with his wife and daughter. Agrippina also (having a son by her first husband Aenobarbus, called Lucius Domitius) was afterwards married unto Clodius, who adopted her son, and called him Nero Germanicus. This Nero was emperor in our time, who slew his own mother, and had almost destroyed the empire of Rome through his madness and wicked life, being the fifth emperor of Rome after Antonius. \endprosa \end{document}