Wert beaten from Mutina, where thou flew'ft
Hirtius and Panfa Confuls, at thy heel

Did famine follow, whom thou fought'st against
(Though daintily brought up) with patience more
Than Savages could fuffer. Thou didft drink
The ftale of horses, and the gilded puddle

Which beafts would cough at. Thy Palate then did deign

The roughest berry on the rudeft hedge:

Yea, like the ftag, when fnow the pasture sheets,
The barks of trees thou browsed'ft. On the Alps,
It is reported, thou didst eat ftrange flesh,

Which fome did die to look on; and all this,
(It wounds thine honour, that I speak it now)
Was bore fo like a foldier, that thy cheek
So much as lank'd not.

Lep. 'Tis pity of him.

Caf. Let his fhames quickly

Drive him to Rome; time is it, that we twain
Did fhew ourfelves i'th' field; and to that end
Affemble we immediate council; Pompey
Thrives in our idlenefs.

Lep. To-morrow, Cæfar.

I fhall be furnish'd to inform you rightly,
Both what by fea and land I can be able,
To front this prefent time.

Caf. 'Till which encounter,

It is my bufinefs too.

Farewel.

Lep. Farewel, my lord:

What you fhall know mean time of ftirs abroad,
I fhall befeech you, let me be partaker.

Caf. Doubt it not, Sir; I knew it for my bond.
Farewel.

[Exeunt.

VOL. VIII.

K

SCENE

SCENE

VI.

Changes to the Palace in Alexandria.

ま

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardian.

Cleo. Ha, ha-give me to drink Mandragoras. Char. Why, madam?

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

Char. You think of him too much.

Cleo. O, 'tis treafon.

Char. Madam, I truft not fo.

Cleo. Thou, eunuch, Mardian,

Mar. What's your Highnefs' plea fure?

Cleo. Not now to hear thee fing. I take no pleasure In aught an eunuch has; 'tis well for thee, That, being unfeminar'd, thy freer thoughts May not fly forth of Egypt. Haft thou affections? Mar. Yes, gracious Madam.

Cleo. Indeed?

Mar. Not in deed, Madam; for I can do nothing But what indeed is honeft to be done :

Yet have I fierce affections, and think,

What Venus did with Mars.

Cleo. Oh Charmian!

Where think'ft thou he is now? ftands he, or fits he? Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?

Oh happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony ! Do bravely, horfe; for, wot'ft thou, whom thou mov'ft?

The demy Atlas of this earth, the arm

And burgonet of Man. He's fpeaking now,
Or murmuring, where's my ferpent of old Nile?—
(For fo he calls me ;) Now I feed myself
With most delicious poifon. Think on me,

That

That am with Phabus' amorous pinches black,
And wrinkled deep in time. Broad-fronted Cæfar,
When thou waft here above the ground, I was
A morfel for a monarch; and great Pompey
Would ftand and make his eyes grow in my brow;
There would he anchor his afpect, and die
With looking on his life.

Enter Alexas.

Alex. Sovereign of Egypt, hail !

Cleo. How much art thou unlike Mark Antony?
Yet coming from him, that great med'cine hath
With his tinct gilded thee.

How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?
Alex. Laft thing he did, dear Queen,
He kift, the laft of many doubled kiffes,
This orient pearl.-His fpeech fticks in my heart.
Cleo. Mine ear muft pluck it thence.
Alex. Good friend, quoth he,

Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends
This treasure of an oyfter; at whose foot,
To mend the petty prefent, I will pace

*

Her opulent throne with kingdoms. All the east, Say thou, fhall call her miftrefs. So, he nodded; And foberly did mountan arm-gaunt fteed,

Who neigh'd fo high, that what I would have spoke + Was beaftly done by him.

Cleo. What, was he fad or merry?

I will piece

Her opulent throne with kingdoms.-] No bungling Carpenter could have expreffed his Labour worse. I fufpect that Shakespear wrote e. i. I will erect an Imperial Throne for her,

-I will pace

and every Step up to it shall be a Kingdom. + Was beastly dumb by him.]

Warb.

-A very pretty Speech, and agreeable to the Politeness of one of Cleopatra's Courtiers. Shakespear

wrote,

Who neigh'd fo loud, that what I would have fjoke

Was beaftly done by him.

i. e. the Senfe of what I would

have spoke the Horfe declared, tho' in inarticulate Sounds. Warb

Alex. Like to the time o'th' year, between th'

extremes

Of hot and cold, he was nor fad, nor merry.

Cleo. Oh well-divided difpofition!

Note him, good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note

him;

He was not fad, for he would fhine on those
That make their looks by his: He was not merry,
Which feem'd to tell them, his remembrance lay
In Egypt with his joy; but between both..

Oh heav'nly mingle! be'ft thou fad, or merry,
The violence of either thee becomes,

So does it no man elfe. Met'ft thou my posts;
Alex. Ay, madam, twenty feveral meffengers.
Why do you fend fo thick?

Cleo. Who's born that day,
When I forget to fend to Antony,

Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian.
Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian,
Ever love Cæfar so?

Char. Oh, that brave Cæfar!

Cleo. Be choak'd with fuch another emphafis! Say, the brave Antony.

Char. The valiant Cæfar.

Cleo. By Ifis, I will give thee bloody teeth, If thou with Cæfar paragon again

My man of men.

Char. By your moft gracious pardon,

I fing but after you.

Cleo. My fallad days;

When I was green in judgment.-Cold in blood!

To fay, as I faid then,-

Get me ink and paper;

-But come away,

He shall have every day feveral greetings, or I'll

unpeople Egypt.

[Exeunt.

ACT

ACT II. SCENE I.

SICILY

Enter Pompey, Menecrates, and Menas.
POMPE Y.

Fthe great Gods be juft, they shall affist
The deeds of jufteft men.

Mene. Know, worthy Pompey,

That what they do delay, they not deny.

Pomp. While we are fuitors to their Throne, delay's The thing we fue for.

Men. We, ignorant of ourfelves,

Beg often our own harms, which the wife

Deny us for our good; fo find we profit

By lofing of our prayers.

Pomp. I fhall do well:

The people love me, and the fea is mine;

powers

My pow'r's a crefcent, and my auguring hope
Says, it will come to th' full. Mark Antony

In Egypt fits at dinner, and will make

No wars without doors. Cæfar gets money, where
He lofes hearts; Lepidus flatters Both,

Of Both is flatter'd; but he Neither loves,
Nor Either cares for him.

Mene. Cæfar and Lepidus are in the field,

A mighty ftrength they carry.

Pomp. Where have you this? 'tis falfe.
Mene. From Silvius, Sir.

[gether.

Pomp. He dreams; I know, they are in Rome toLooking for Antony: but all the charms of love,

Salt Cleopatra, foften thy wan lip!

Let witchcraft join with beauty; luft with both!
Tie up the libertine in a field of feafts,

Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks,
Sharpen with cloylefs fauce his appetite;

That fleep and feeding may prorogue his honour,
Even 'till a Lethe'd dulnefs-