Imatges de pàgina
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Beftow'd his lips on that unworthy place,

As it rain'd kiffes.

Enter Antony, and Enobarbus.

Ant. Favours! by Jove, that thunders.

What art thou, fellow

[Seeing Thyreus kifs her hand.

Thyr. One that but performs

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The bidding of the fullest man, and worthieft
To have command obey'd.'

Eno. You will be whipp'd.

Ant. Approach there ah, you kite! now, Gods and Devils!

Authority melts from me of late.-When I cry'd, hoa!
Like boys unto a mufs, Kings would ftart forth,
And cry, your will? have you no ears o

I'm Antony yet. Take hence this Jack, and whip him.
Enter Servants.

1

Eno. 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp, Than with an old one dying.

Ant. Moon and ftars!.

Whip him :-Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries
That do acknowledge Cafar, fhould I find them
So fawcy with the hand of She here, (what's her name,
Since he was Cleopatra ?)-whip him, fellows
Till, like a boy, you fee him cringe his face,
And whine aloud for mercy. Take him hence.
Thyr. Mark Antony-

Ant. Tug him away; being whipp'd,

Bring him again: this Jack of Cafar's fhall
Bear us an errand to him.

[Exeunt with Thyrẻus.

You were half blasted, ere I knew you: ha!
Have I my pillow left unpreft in Rome,
Forborn the getting of a lawful race,
And by a jem of women, to be abus'd
By one that looks on feeders ?
Cleo. Good my Lord,

Ant. You have been a boggler ever.

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But when we in our vicioufnefs grow hard,
(O mifery on't! the wife Gods feal our eyes
In our own filth, drop out clear judgments, make us.
Adore our errors, laugh at's while we strut

To our confufion..

1

Cleo. Oh, is't come to this?

Ant. I found you as a morfel, cold upon

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Dead Cafar's trencher: nay, you were a fragment
Of Cneius Pompey's; befides what hotter hours,
Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have

Luxuriously pickt out. For, I am fure,

Though you can guess what temperance should be,

You know not what it is.

訾 Cleo. Wherefore is this?

Ant. To let a fellow that will take rewards,

And fay, God quit you, be familiar with

My play-fellow, your hand; this kingly feal,
O that I were

And plighter of high hearts!

Upon the hill of Bafan, to out-roar

The horned herd, for I have favage cause!
And to proclaim it civilly, were like

A halter'd neck, which does the hangman thank
For being yare about him. Is he whipp'd?

Re-enter a Servant, with Thyreus.

Serv. Soundly, my Lord.

Ant. Cry'd he and begg'd a 'pardon?

Serv. He did ask favour.

Ant. If that thy father live, let him repent

Thou waft not made his daughter; and be thou forry To follow Cafar in his triumph, fince

Thou haft been whipp'd for following him. Henceforth,
The white hand of a lady fever thee,

Shake to look on't.Go, get thee back to Gafar,
Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou fay,
He makes me angry with him: For he feems
Proud and difdamful, harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry;
And, at this time, moft eafy 'tis to do't:
When my good ftars, that were my former guides,

Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires
Into the abyfm of hell. If he miflike

My speech, and what is done, tell him, he has
Hipparchus my enfranchis'd bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he fhall like, to quit me. Urge it thou:
Hence with thy ftripes, be gone.

Cleo. Have you done yet :?

[Exit Thyreus.

Ant. Alack, our terrene moon is now eclips'd,
And it portends alone the fall of Antony,
Cleo. I must stay his time.

Ant. To flatter Cafar, would you mingle eyes
With one that ties his points?

Cleo. Not know me yet?

Ant. Cold-hearted toward me!

Cleo. Ah, dear, if I be fo,

From my cold heart let heav'n ingender hail,
And poifon't in the fource, and the firft ftone
Drop in my neck; as it determines, fo
Diffolve my life! the next Cafario fmite!
'Till by degrees the memory of my womb,
Together with my brave Egyptians all,
(26) By the difcandying of this pelleted form,
Lie gravelefs; 'till the flies and gnats of Nile
Have buried them for prey!

Ant. I'm fatisfied:

Cæfar fets down in Alexandria, where

I will oppofe his fate. Our force by land
Hath nobly held; our fever'd navy too

Have knit again, and float, threatning most sea-like.

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(26) By the difcattering of this pelleted Storm,] This Reading we owe first, I prefume, to Mr. Rozve: and Mr. Pope has very faithfully fallen into it. The old Folio's read, difcandering: from which Corruption both Dr. Thirlby and I faw, we must retrieve the Word with which I have reformed the Text. Cleopatra's Wifh is this; that the Gods would ingender Hail, and poifon it; and that as it fell upon hef and her fubjects, and melted, their Lives might determine, 'as that diffolved and difcandied the congealing of the Water into Hail he metaphorically calls candying and it is an Image he is fond of, in several other Paffages.

Where

Where haft thou been, my heart? doft thou hear, lady? If from the field I fhould return once more

To kifs thefe lips, I will appear in blood;

I and my fword will earn my chronicle;
There's hope in't yet.

Cleo. That's my brave Lord.

Ant. I will be treble-finew'd, hearted, breath'd,
And fight maliciously: for when my hours

Were nice and lucky, men did ranfome lives ut.4
Of me for jefts; but now I'll fet my teeth,
And fend to darkness all that stop me. Come,
Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me
All my fad captains, fill our bowls; once more
Let's mock, the midnight bell,,

Cleo. It is my birth-day;

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I had thought t'have held it poor: But fince my Lord Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra..

Ant. We will yet do well.

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Cleo. Call all his noble captains to my Lord.

Ant. Do fo, we'll fpeak to them, and to-night I'll force The wine peep through their fears. Come on, my Queen; There's fap in't yet. The next time I do fight, I'll make death love me; for I will contend Even with his peftilent fcythe.

[Exeunt.
Eno. Now he'll out-ftare the lightning; to be furious,
Is to be frighted out of fear; and, in that mood,
The dove will peck the eftridges and, I fee ftill,
A diminution in our captain's brain

Reftores his heart; when valour preys on reafon,,
It eats the fword it fights with: I will feek
Some way to leave him.

[Exit.

ACT

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A C T IV.

SCENE,Cæfar's Camp.

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Enter Cæfar, Agrippa, and Mecenas, with their Army. Cæfar reading a Letter.

HE

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CÆSAR.

E calls me boy; and chides, as he had power
To beat me out of Egypt. My meffenger
He hath whipt with rods, dares me to perfonal combat,
Cæfar to Antony. Let the old ruffian know,

I have many other ways to die: mean time,
Laugh at his challenge.

Mec. Cæfar muft think,

When one fo great begins to rage, he's hunted
Even to falling.

Give him no breath, but now

Make boot of his diftraction: never anger
Made good guard for itself.

Caf. Let our best heads

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Know, that to-morrow the laft of many battles
We mean to fight. Within our files there are
Of thofe that ferv'd Mark Antony but late,
Enough to fetch him in. See, it be done;
And feaft the army; we have ftore to do't,
And they have earn'd the waste. Poor Antony! [Exeunt.

SCENE, the Palace in Alexandria.

Enter Antony and Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, Iras, Alexas, with others.

Ant. H

E will not fight with me, Domitius.
Eno. No.

Ant. Why should he not?

Eno. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,

He's

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