Imatges de pàgina
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rod of Jewry may do homage! find me, to marry me with Octavius Cæfar, and companion me with my mistress.

Sooth. You fhall out-live the Lady whom you ferve. Char. Oh, excellent! I love long life better than figs.

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

Char. (4) Then, belike, my children fhall have no names;

Pr'ythee, how many boys and wenches must I have? Sooth. (5) If every of your wishes had a womb, And fertil every with, a million.

Char. Qut, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. Alex. You think, none but your fheets are privy tổ your wishes.

Char. Nay, come, tell Tras hers.

Alex. We'll know all our fortunes.

Eno. Mine, and moft of our fortunes to night, fhall be to go drunk to bed.

Iras. There's a palm prefages chastity, if nothing elfe.

Char. E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus prefageth fa

mine.

Iras. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot foothfay. Char. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prog noftication, I cannot fcratch mine ear. Pr'ythee, tell her but a workyday fortune.

(4) Then, belike, my Children fhall have no Names.] i. e. They fhall be illegitimate. This will be very clearly explain'd by quoting a Paffage from The Two Gentlemen of Verona.

Speed. Item, he hath many nameless Virtues.

Launce. That's as much as to say, bastard Virtuès; that, indeed, know not their Fathers, and therefore have no Names.

(5) If every of your Wishes had a Womb,

And foretold ev'ry Wish, a Million.] What foretold? If the Wishes foretold themselves? This can never be genuine, however it has pafs'd hitherto upon the Editors. It makes the Word Womb abfolutely fuperfluous, if only the telling her Wishes beforehand would help her to the Children. The Poet certainly wrote,

If ev'ry of your Wishes bad a Womb,
And fertil ev'ry Wish,

P 4

Sooth

Sooth. Your fortunes are alike.

Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars.
Sooth. I have said.

Iras. Am I not an inch of fortune better than fhe? Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I; where would you chuse it?

Iras. Not in my Husband's nose.

Char. (6) Our worfer thoughts heav'ns mend! Alexas, Come, his fortune; his fortune.. O, let him marry a Woman that cannot go, fweet Ifis, I befeech 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 Ifis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Ifis, I beseech thee!

Iras. Amen, dear Goddefs, hear that prayer of the people! for, as it is a heart-breaking to fee a hand

(6) Char. Our worfer Thoughts Heav'ns mend.

Alex. Come, his Fortune, his Fortune. Ó, let him marry a Woman, &c.] Whofe Fortune does Alexas call out to have told? But, in fhort, This I dare pronounce to be fo palpable and fignal a Tranfpofition, that I cannot but wonder it fhould have flipt the Obfervation of all the Editors: especially, of the fagacious Mr. Pope, who has made this Declaration, That if, throughout the Plays, had all the Speeches been printed without the very Names of the Perfons, He believes, one might have applyed them with Certainty to every Speaker. But in how many Inftances has Mr. Pope's Want of Judgment falfified this Opinion? The Fact is evidently this. Alexas brings a Fortune-teller to İras and Charmian, and fays Himself, We'll know all our Fortunes. Well; the Soothfayer begins with the Women; and fome Joaks pafs upon the Subject of Husbands and Chastity: After which, the Women, hoping for the Satisfaction of having fomething to laugh at in Alexas's Fortune, call to him to hold out his Hand, and with heartily he may have the Prognoftication of Cuckoldom upon him. The whole Speech, therefore, must be plac'd to Charmian, thus:

Char. Our worfer Thoughts Heav'n mend! Alexas, Fortune; his Fortune: &c.

come, his

There needs no ftronger Proof of This being a true Correction, than the Obfervation which Alexas immediately fubjoins on their Wishes and Zeal to hear him abused.

Alex. Lo, now! if it lay in their Hands to make me a Cuckold, they would make themfelves Whores but they'd do it.

I propos'd this Tranfpofition in the Appendix to my SHAKESPEARE Refor d, and Mr. Pope, notwithstanding his firft infallible Opinion, has acceded to it in his last Edition of our Poet.

fome

fome man loose-wiv'd, fo it is a deadly forrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded; therefore, dear Ifis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly.

Char. Amen!

Alex. Lo, now! if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but they'd do't. Enter Cleopatra.

Eno. Hufh! here comes Antony.

Char. Not he, the Queen.

Cleo. Saw you my Lord?

Eno. No, Lady.

Cleo. Was he not here?

Char. No, Madam.

Cleo. He was difpos'd to mirth, but on the fudden A Roman thought hath ftruck him. Enobarbus, Eno. Madam:

Cleo. Seek him, and bring him hither; where's Alexas?

Alex. Here at your fervice, my Lord approaches.

Enter Antony with a Meffenger, and Attendants.

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Cleo. We will not look upon him; go with us.

[Exeunt. Mef. Fulvia thy Wife firft came into the field. Ant. Againft my Brother Lucius?

Mef. Ay, but foon that war had end, and the time's ftate

Made friends of them, jointing their force 'gainft Cæfar: Whose better iffue in the war from Italy,

Upon the first encounter, drave them.

Ant. Well, what worst?

Mef. The nature of bad news infects the teller. Ant. When it concerns the fool or coward; on. Things, that are paft, are done, with me. 'Tis thus; Who tells me true, though in the tale lye death, I hear, as if he flatter'd.

Mef. Labienus (this is stiff news)

Hath, with his Parthian force, extended Afia;
From Euphrates his conquering banner fhook,

From

From Syria to Lydia, and Ionia;

Whilft

Aut. Antony, thou wouldst fay
Mef. Oh, my Lord!

Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the gen'ral

tongue;

Name Cleopatra as fhe's call'd in Rome.

Rail thou in Fulvia's phrafe, and taunt my faults
With fuch full licence, as both truth and malice
Have power to utter. Oh, then we bring forth weeds,
When our quick winds lye ftill; and our ill, told us,
Is as our earing; fare thee well a while.

Mef. At your noble pleasure.

Ant. From Sicyon, how the news? speak there.
Mef. The Man from Sicyon, is there fuch an one?
[Exit firft Meffenger.
Attend. He stays upon your will.

Ant. Let him appear;

Thefe ftrong Egyptian fetters I muft break,
Or lofe my felf in dotage. What are you?

Enter another Messenger, with a Letter.

2 Mef. Fulvia thy Wife is dead.

Ant. Where died fhe?

2 Mef. In Sicyon.

Her length of fickness, with what elfe more ferious
Importeth thee to know, this bears.

Ant. Forbear me.

[Exit fecond Meffenger. There's a great spirit gone! thus did I defire it. What our Contempts do often hurl from us, We wish it ours again; the prefent pleasure, By revolution lowring, does become

The oppofite of it felf; fhe's good, being gone; The hand could pluck her back, that fhov'd her on.

(7) What our Contempts do often burl from us,

We wish it ours again ;] If This be not Imitation, it is certainly fuch a Resemblance of Horace, as would be determin'd Imitation from a Pen of known and acknowledg'd Learning.

Virtutem incolumem odimus,

Sublatam ex oculis quærimus invidi.

Lib. III. Ode 24. 24일

I muft from this enchanting Queen break off.
Ten thoufand harms, more than the ills I know,
My idleness doth hatch. How now, Enobarbus 2

Enter Enobarbus.

Eno. What's your pleafure, Sir?

Ant. I muft with hafte from hence.

Eno. Why, then we kill all our Women. We fee, how mortal an unkindness is to them; if they fuffer our departure, 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 fhould be efteem'd nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the leaft noife of this, dies inftantly; 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; the 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 fineft part of pure love. We cannot call her winds and waters, fighs and tears: they are greater ftorms and tempefts than almanacks can report. This cannot be cunning in her: if it be, fhe makes a fhow'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 facrifice: when it pleaseth their Deities to take the wife of a man from him, it fhews to man the tailor of the earth: comforting therein, that when old robes are worn out, there are members to make new. If there were no

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