Cleo. Thou teach est like a fool: the way to lose

bit.

Char. Tempt him not so too far: I wish, forbear; In time we hate that which we often fear,

Enter Antony.

But here comes Antony..

Cleo..

I am sick, and sullen.

Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my pur

pose,

Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian, I shall fall; It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature

Will not sustain it.

Ant.

Now, my dearest queen,-
Cleo. Pray you, stand further from me.
Ant.

What's the matter?

Cleo. I know, by that same eye, there's some

good news.

What says the married woman?-You may go ;
'Would she had never given you leave to come!
Let her not say, 'tis I that keep you here,

I have no power upon you; hers you are.
Ant. The gods best know,-

Cleo.

O, never was there queen

So mightily betray'd! Yet, at the first,
I saw the treasons planted.

Ant.

Cleopatra,

Cleo. 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!

Ant.

Most sweet queen,

Cleo. Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your go

ing,

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 racet of heaven: They are so still,
Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,

Art turn'd the greatest liar.

Ant.

How now, lady!

Cleo. I would, I had thy inches; thou shouldst

know,

There were a heart in Egypt.

Hear me, queen:

Ant.
The strong necessity of time commands

Our services a while; 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 domestick powers

Breeds 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 thriv'd

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 go-
ing,

Is Fulvia's death.

Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me freedom,

It does from childishness:-Can Fulvia die ?
Ant. She's dead, my queen:

Look here, and, at thy sovereign leisure, read
The garboils she awak'd; at the last, best:
See, when, and where she died.

Cleo.

The arch of our eye-brows.

+ Smack or flavour.

O most false love!

Gate.

Render my going not dangerous.
Can Fulvia be dead?

The commotion she occasioned.

Where be the sacred vials thou should'st fill
With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,
In Fulvia's death, how mine receiv'd shall be.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know
The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,
As you shall give the advice: Now, by the fire
That quickens Nilus' slime*, I go from hence,
Thy soldier, servant; making peace, or war,
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 pr'ythee, 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.

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, pr'ythee, Charmian, 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 lov'd,-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.

Ant.

But that your royalty

Mud of the river Nile.

To me, the queen of Egypt.

+ Heat.

§ Oblivious memory.

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'd victory! and smooth success

Be strew'd before your feet!

Ant.

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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Rome. An apartment in Cæsar's house.

Enter Octavius Cæsar, Lepidus, and Attendants.

Cas. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, It is not Cæsar's natural vice to hate

One great competitor: From Alexandria

This is the news; He fishes, drinks, and wastes The lamps of night in revel: is not more manlike Than Cleopatra; nor the queen Ptolemy

More womanly than he

hardly gave audience, or Vouchsaf'd 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 enough to darken all his goodness:

* Associate or partner.

His faults, in him, seem as the spots of heaven, More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary, Rather than purchas'd*; what he cannot change, Than what he chooses.

Cas. 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 lightnesst. 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 judgement.

Lep.

Enter a Messenger.

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 belov'd of those
That only have fear'd Cæsar: to the ports
The discontents || repair, and men's reports
Give him much wrong'd.

Cas.

I should have known no less:

* Procured by his own fault. Visit him.

§ Consume.

+ Levity. Discontented.