Remains in use with you. Our Italy
Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius
Makes his approaches to the port* of Rome: Gate.
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 50
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. Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me

freedom, It does from childishness: can Fulvia die?

Ant. She's dead, my queen: Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read 60 The garboils* she awaked; at the last, best: *Uproar. See when and where she died. Cleo.

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. Ant. 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 70 As thou affect'st. Cleo.

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

My precious queen, forbear;
And give true evidence to his love, which stands
An honourable trial.
Cleo.

So Fulvia told me.
I prithee, turn aside and weep for her;
Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears
Belong to Egypt: good now, play one scene

Of excellent dissembling; and let it look
Like perfect honour.

Ant. You'll heat my blood: no more. 80
Cleo. You can do better yet; but this is

meetly. Ant. Now, by my sword, Cleo.

And target. Still he mends; But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Char

mian,
How this Herculean Roman does become
The carriage of his chafe.

Ant. I'll leave you,lady.
Cleo.

Courteous lord, one word.
Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it:
Sir, you and I have loved, but there's not it;
That you know well: something it is I would,-
0, my oblivion is a very Antony,

90 And I am all forgotten. Ant.

But that your royalty
Holds idleness your subject, I should take you
For idleness itself.
Cleo.

'Tis sweating labour
To bear such idleness so near the heart,
As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me;
Since my becomings kill me, when they do not
Eye well to you: your honour calls you hence;
Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly.
And all the gods go with you! upon your sword
Sit laurel victory! and smooth success
Be strew'd before your feet!
Ant.

Let us go. Come;
Our separation so abides, and fies,
That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me,
And I, hence fleeting, * here remain with thee.
Away!

*Passing away.

[Exeunt.

100

SCENE IV. Rome. Cæsar's house.

Enter OCTAVIUS CÆSAR, reading a letter, LEPIDUS,

and their Train. Cæs. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth

1ο

It is not Cæsar'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.
Lep.

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.
Cæs. 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; 19 To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet With knaves that smell of sweat: say this be

comes 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

*Consume. As his own state and ours,—'tis to be chid 30 As we rate boys, who, being mature in know

ledge, Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, And so rebel to judgement.

Enter a Messenger. Lep.

Here's more news.

Mess. Thy biddings have been done: and every

hour,
Most noble Cæsar, shalt thou have report
How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea;
And it appears he is beloved of those
That only have fear'd Cæsar: to the ports
The discontents* repair, and men's reports
Give him much wrong'd.

*Malcontents. Cæs.

I should have known no less. It hath been taught us from the primal state, 41 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 comnion

body,
Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream,
Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide,
To rot itself with motion.
Mess.

Cæsar, I bring thee word,
Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,
Make the sea serve them, which they ear* and
wound

*Plough. With keels of every kind: many hot inroads 50 They make in Italy; the borders maritime Lack blood to think on't, and flusht-youth revolt: No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon +Fresh. Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more Than could his war resisted. Cæs.

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 61 The stalet of horses, and the gilded puddle Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did deign

*Drinking-bouts. #Urine. 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 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 70
So much as lank'd not.
Lep.

'Tis pity of him.
Cés. 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.
Lep.

To-morrow,

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

Till which encounter,
It is my business too. Farewell.

80 Lep. Farewell, my lord: what you shall know

meantime
Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,
To let me be partaker.
Cæs.

Doubt not, sir;
I knew it for my bond.

[Exeunt. SCENE V. Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace. Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and

MARDIAN.
Cleo. Charmian!
Char. Madam?
Cleo. Ha, ha!
Give me to drink mandragora.
Char.

Why, madam?
Cleo. That I might sleep out this great gap of

time
My Antony is away.
Chàr.

You think of him too much.
Cleo. O, 'tis treason!
Char.

Madam, I trust, not so.
Cleo. Thou, eunuch Mardian !
Mar.

What's your highness' pleasure ?
Cleo. Not now to hear thee sing ; I take no

pleasure In aught an eunuch has : 'tis well for thee, That, being unseminar’d,* thy freer thoughts

IO