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M. ANTONY.
OCTAVIUS CÆSAR.
ÆMILIUS LEPIDUS.
Sex. POMPEIUS.
DOMITIUS ÆNOBARBUS,
VENTIDIUS,
CANIDIUS,
Eros,

Friends and Followers of
SCARUS,

Antony.
DERCETAS,
DEMETRIUS,
PHILO,
SILIUS,
MECANAS,
AGRIPPA,
DOLABELLA,
PROCULEIUS,

Friends to Cæfas.
THYREIUS,
TAURUS,
GALLUS,
MENAS,
MENECRATES,

Friends to Pompey.
VARRIUS,
ALEXAS,
MARDIAN,

Servants to Cleopatra.
SELEUCUS,
DIOMEDES,
A Soorblayer.
Clown.
CLEOPATRA, Queen of Ægypt.
OCTAVIA, Sister to Cæsar, and Wife to Antory.
CHARMIAN, Ladies attending on Cleopatra.
Ambasadors from Antony to Cæsar, Captains, Soldiers,

Messengers, and other Attendants.
The SCENE is dispers’d in several Parts of tbe Roman
Empire.

Antony

Antony and Cleopatra.

N

ACT 1. SCENE I.
The Palace at Alexandria in Ægypt.

Enter Demetrius and Philo.
Pbil. AY, but this dotage of our General

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 breaft, réneges all temper, And is become the bellows and the fan To cool a gypsy's luft. Look where they come ! Enter Antony, and Cleopatra, ber Ladies in the Train,

Eunucbs fanning ber.
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 fee.

Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much?
Ant. There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.
Cleo. I'll set a borne how far to be belov'd.
Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heav'n, new
earth.

Enter a Meffenger.
Mef. News, my good Lord, from Romei
Ant. It grates me. Tell the fum,
Cleo. Nay, hear it, Antony.

Fulvia

X 3

Fulvia perchance is angry ; or who knows,
If the scarce-bearded Cæfar have not sent
His powerful mandate to you ; Do this ; or this;
Take in that kingdom, and infranchise that ;
Perform't, or else we damn thee.

Ant. How, my love ?

Cleo. Perchance, (nay, and most like,) You must not stay here longer, your dismission Is come from Cæfar ; therefore hear it, Antony. Where's Fulvia's process ? Cæsar's ? I would lay ; both ? Call in the messengers ; as I'm Ægypt's Queen, Thou blusheft, Antony, and that blood of thine Is Cæfar's homager : so thy cheeks pay shame, When shrill-tongu'd Fulvia scolds. The messengers.

Ant. Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide arch
Of the rais’d 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 such a mutual pair, [Embracing.
And such a twain can do't; in which, I bind
(On pain of punishment) the world to weet
We stand up peerless.

Cleo. Excellent falfhood!
Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her ?
I'll seem the fool I am not ; Antony
Will be himself.

Ant. But ftirr'd by Cleopatra : .
Now for the love of love, and his soft hours,
Let's not confound the time with conference harsh ;
There's not a minute of our lives should Atretch
Without some pleasure now : what sport to-night?

Cleo. Hear the ambaffadors.

Ant. Fie, wrangling Queen!
Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,

whose every passion fully Atrives
To make it self in thee fair and admir'd.
No messenger but thine ; and all alone
To-night we'll wander through the streets, and notc
The qualities of people. Come, my Queen,

To weep ;.

Last night you did defire it.' Speak not to us.

[Exeunt with their train. Dem. Is Cæfar with Antonius prizid fo Night?

Phil. Sir, fometimes, when he is not Antony,
He comes too short of that great property
Which ftill should go with Antony.

Dem. I'm sorry,
That he approves the common liar Fame,
Who speaks him thus at Rome; but I will hope
Of better deeds to-morrow. Reft you happy! [Exeunt,

SCENE II. Enter Ænobarbus, Charmian, Iras, Alexas, and a Sootbfayer.

Cbar. Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, almost moft absolute Alexas, where's the Soothsayer that you prais'd to th' Queen ? Oh! that I knew this husband which, you say, must change for horns his garlands,

Alex. Soothsayer !
Sootb. Your will ?
Char, Is this the man ? Is't you, Sir, that know things ?

Sootb. In nature's infinite book of secrecy,
A little I can read.

Alex. Shew him your hand.
Æno. Bring in the banquet quickly : wine enough,
Cleopatra's health to drink. ,

Cbar. Good Sir, give me
Good fortune.

Sootb. Madam, I make not, but foresee.
Cbar. Pray then, foresee me one.

Sootb. You shall be yet
Far fairer than you are.

Cbar. He means in flesh.
Iras, No, you shall paint when old.
Cbar. Wrinkles forbid !
Alex, Vex not his prescience, be attentive.
Cbar. Hush !
Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than beloved.
Char. I had rather heat my liver with much drinking.
Alex. Nay, hear him.

Char. Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married to three Kings in a forenoon, and widow them all ;

let

let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage. Find me, to marry me with, Oétavius Cae far; and companion me with my mistress.

Sooth. You shall out-live the lady whom you serve, Cbar. Oh excellent, I love long life better than figs.

Sooth. You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune, than that which is to approach.

Cbar. Then belike my children shall have no names ; Pr’ythee, how many boys and wenches must I have ?

Sostb. If every of your wishes had a womb, And fertile every with, a million.

Cbar. Qat, out, fool, I forgive thee for a witch.
Alex. You think none but your fheets are privy to
Your withes.

Char. Nay come, and tell Iras hers.
Alex. We'll know all our fortunes.

Æno. Mine, and most of our fortunes to-night, thall be to go drunk to bed.

Tras. There is a palm presages chastity,
If nothing else.

Cbar. E'en as th' o'erflowing Nile presageth famine.
Iras, Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothlay.

Cbar. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Pr’ythee, tell her buf a workyday fortune.

Sootb. Your fortunes are alike.
Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars.
Sootb. I have faid.
Iras. Am I not an inch of fortune better than the i

Cbar. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you chuse it ?

Iras, Not in my husband's nose.

Cbar. Our worser thoughts heav'ns mend! Alexas Come, his fortune, his fortune. Oh let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Ifis, I beseech thee, and let her die too, and give him a worse, and let worse 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 Tfile I beseech thee!

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