Imatges de pàgina
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Enter Enobarbus.

Eno. What's your pleasure, Sir?

Ant. I muft with hafte from hence.

Eno. Why then we kill all our Women.

We see how

mortal an Unkindness is to them, if they fuffer our depar ture, Death's the word.

Ant. I must be gone.

Eno. Under a compelling occafion, let Women die. It were pity to caft them away for nothing, though between them and a great caufe, they should be efteem'd nothing. Cleopatra catching but the leaft noife of this dics inftantly; I have feen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is Mettle in Death, which commits fome loving act upon her, fhe hath fuch a Celerity in Dying.

Ant. She is cunning paft Man's Thought.

Eno. Alack, Sir, no, her Paffions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure Love. We cannot call her Winds and Waters, Sighs and Tears: And yet they are greater Storms and Tempefts than Almanacks can report. This cannot be cunning in her: if it be, fhe makes a Show'r of Rain as well as Jove.

Ant. Would I had never feen her.

Eno. Oh Sir, you had then left unfeen a wonderful Piece of Work, which not to have been bleft withal, would have difcredited your Travel.

Ant: Fulvia is dead.

Eno. Sir!

Ant. Fulvia is dead.
Eno. Fulvia?

Ant. Dead.

Eno. Why Sir, give the Gods a thankful Sacrifice: when it pleaseth their Deities to take the Wife of a Man from him, it fhews to Man the Tailors of the Earth: Comforting him 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 cafe were to be lamented: This Grief is crown'd with Confolation, your old Smock brings forth a new Petticoat, and indeed the Tears live in an Onion, that fhould water this Sorrow.

Ant.

Ant. The Bufinefs fhe hath broached in the State,

Cannot endure my Abfence.

Eno. And the Bufinefs you have broach'd here cannot be without you, especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your Aboad.

Ant. No more like Anfwers: Let our Officers
Have notice what we purpose. I shall break
The cause of our Expedience to the Queen,
And get her Love 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 giv❜n the Dare to Cafar, and commands
The Empire of the Sea. Our flipp'ry People,
Whofe Love is never link'd to the Deferver,
'Till his Deferts are paft, begin to throw
Pompey the Great, and all his Dignities
Upon his Son; who high in Name and Pow'r,
Higher than both in Blood and Life, ftands up
For the main Soldier: Whofe Quality going on,
The fides o'th' World may danger. Much is breeding,
Which like the Courfer's Hair, hath yet but Life,
And not a Serpent's Poifon. Say our Pleasure,
To fuch whofe place is under us, requires
Our quick remove from hence.

Eno. I fhall do't.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Iras.

Cleo. Where is he?

Char. I did not fee him fince.

Cleo. See where he is, who's with him, what he do's: I did not fend you. If find him fad,

you

Say I am Dancing: if in Mirth, report

That I am fudden fick. Quickly, and return.

Char. Madam, methinks if you did love him dearly,

You do not hold the method, to enforce

The like from him.

Cleo. What fhould I do, I do not?

[Exeunt.

Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in nothing. Cleo. Thou teacheft like a Fool: the way to lofe him.

Char.

Char. Tempt him not, fo, 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 fullen.

Ant. I am forry to give Breathing to my purpose.
Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian, I fhall fall,

It cannot be thus long, the fides of Nature [Seeming to faint. Will not fuftain it.

Ant. Now, my deareft Queen.

Cleo. Pray you ftand farther from me,

Ant. What's the matter?

Cleo. I know by that fame Eye there's fome good News.
What fays the marry'd Woman? you may go;
Would he had never given you leave to come,
Let her not fay 'tis I that keep you here,

I have no Pow'r upon you: Hers you are.
Ant. The Gods beft know.

Cleo. Oh never was there Queen

1

So mightily betrayed; yet at the firft
I faw the Treafons planted.

Ant. Cleopatra.

Cleo. Why fhould I think you can be mine, and true, Though you with Swearing fhake the throned Gods, Who have been falfe to Fulvia? Riotous Madness! To be entangled with thofe Mouth-made Vows, Which break themfelves in Swearing.

Ant. Moft fweet Queen.

Cleo. Nay pray you feek no colour for your going,
But bid farewel, and go: When you fued flaying,
Then was the time for words: No going then,
Eternity was in our Lips, and Eyes,

Blifs in our Brows bent, none our Parts fo poor,
But was a race of Heav'n. They are foftill,

Or thou the greatest Soldier of the World,

Art turn'd the greater Liar.

Ant. How now, Lady?

Cleo. I would I had thy Inches, thou should't know There were a Heart in Egypt.

Ant. Hear me, Queen;

The ftrong neceffity of time, commands

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Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt.

Octavia, Sifter to Cæfar, and Wife to Antony.

Charmian,

Iras,

}

Ladies attending on Cleopatra.

Ambaffadors from Antony to Cæfar, Captains, Soldiers, Meffengers, and other Attendants.

The SCENE lyes in feveral Parts of the Roman Empire.

Antony

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AY, but this Dotage of our General
O'er-flows the Measure; thofe his goodly
Eyes

That o'er the Files and Mufters 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 fcuffles of great fights hath burst
The Buckles on his Breaft, reneges all Temper,
And is become the Bellows and the Fan

To cool a Gypfies Luft. Look where they come !

VOL. VI.

A 4

Enter

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