Let not the piece of virtue, which is fet (33)
Betwixt us, as the cement of our love,
To keep it builded, be the Ram to batter
The Fortress of it; for better might we
Have lov'd without this mean, if on both parts
This be not cherisht.

Ant. Make me not offended

In your diftruft.

Caf. I've faid.

Ant. You fhall not find,

Though you be therein curious, the leaft caufe For what you seem to fear; fo the Gods keep you, And make the hearts of Romans ferve

We will here part.

your ends!

Caf. Farewel, my dearest fifter, fare thee well; The elements be kind to thee, and make

Thy fpirits all of comfort! fare thee well.

Oct. My noble brother!.

Ant. The April's in her eyes; it is love's Spring, And these the showers to bring it on; be chearful. Oct. Sir, look well to my husband's houfe; and Caf. What, Octavia?

Oft. I'll tell you in your ear.

Ant. Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can Her heart inform her tongue; the fwan's down-fea

ther,

That ftands upon the fwell at full of tide,

And neither way inclines.

Eno. Will Cafar weep?

(33) Let not the Piece of Virtue, which is fet Betwixt us, as the Cement of our Love,

To keep it builded, be the Ram to batter

The Fortune of it:

There is no Confonance of Metaphor preferv'd in the Close of this Sentence; Love is here prefented under the Image of a Fabrick; and Cement, builded, and the Ram to batter, have all an Agreement with this Image: but what Analogy is there to This, in the Word For tune? Or what Idea can the Fortune of a Building furnish? I corrected fome Years ago, in Print, by Conjecture, Fortress and to my Satisfaction, fo foon as I was Mafter of the firft Folio Edition, upen confulting it, I found, I had ftruck out the true Reading.

Agr.

Agr. He has a cloud in's face.

Eno. He were the worfe for that, were he a horfe So is he, being a man.

Agr. Why, Enobarbus?

When Antony found Julius Cæfar dead,
He cried almost to roaring; and he wept,
When at Philippi he found Brutus flain.

Eno. That year, indeed, he was troubled with a rheum,

What willingly he did confound, he wail'd;
Believe't, 'till I wept too. (34)

Caf. No, fweet Octavia,

You fhall hear from me ftill; the time fhall not
Out-go my thinking on you.

Ant. Come, Sir, come,

I'll wrestle with you in my ftrength of love.
Look, here I have you; thus I let you go,

And give you to the Gods.

Caf. Adieu, be happy!

Lep. Let all the number of the Stars give light

To thy fair way!

Caf. Farewel, farewel!

Ant. Farewel!

SCENE changes to the Palace in Alexan

Cleo.

dria.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.

HERE is the fellow ?

Alex. Half afraid to come.

Cleo. Go to, go to; come hither, Sir.

(34) Believe't, till I weep too.] I have ventur'd to alter the Tense of the Verb here, against the Authority of all the Copies. There was no Senfe in it, I think, as it ftood before. Enobarbus would fay, "Indeed, "Antony feem'd very free of his Tears that Year; and believe me, bewail'd all the Mischiefs he did, till I my felf wept too". This appears to me very farcaftical. Antony's Tears, he would infer, were dif embled but Enobarbus wept in real Compaffion of the Havock and Slaughters committed on his Countrymen.

Enter

Enter the Meffenger as before.

Alex. Good Majesty!

Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you,
But when you are well pleas'd.

Cleo. That Herod's head

I'll have; but how? when Antony is gone,
Through whom I might command it: Come Thou

near.

Mef. Moft gracious Majefty,

Cleo. Didft thou behold,

Octavia?

Mef. Ay, dread Queen.
Cleo. Where?

Me. In Rome, Madam.

I lookt her in the face: and faw her led
Between her brother and Mark Antony.
Cleo. Is the as tall as me?

Mef. She is not, Madam.

Cleo. Didft hear her fpeak? is fhe fhrill-tongu'd, or
low?

Mef. Madam, I heard her speak, fhe is low-voic'd.
Cleo. That's not fo good; he cannot like her long.
Char. Like her? oh Ifis! 'tis impoffible.

Cleo. I think fo, Charmian; dull of tongue and
dwarfish.

What Majefty is in her gate? remember,
If e'er thou look'dft on Majefty.

Mef. She creeps ;

Her motion and her ftation are as one:

She fhews a body rather than a life,

A ftatue than a breather.

Cleo. Is this certain?

Mef. Or I have no obfervance.

Char. Three in Ægypt

Cannot make better note.

Cleo. He's very knowing,

I do perceive't; there's nothing in her yet.
The fellow has good judgment.

Char. Excellent.

Cleo. Guess at her years, I pr'ythee.

Mef.

Mef. Madam, fhe was a widow.
Cleo. Widow? Charmian, hark.

Mef. And I do think, fhe's thirty.

Cleo. Bear'ft thou her face in mind? is't long, or round?

Mef. Round even to faultinefs.

Cleo. For th' moft part too,

They're foolish that are fo. Her hair, what colour?
Mef. Brown, Madam; and her forehead
As low as the would with it.

Cleo. There's gold for thee.

Thou must not take my former sharpness ill,
I will employ thee back again; I find thee
Moft fit for business, Go, make thee ready;
Our letters are prepar'd.

Char. A proper man.

Cleo. Indeed, he is fo; I repent me much,
That fo I harried him. Why, methinks, by him,
This creature's no fuch thing.

Char. O, nothing, Madam.

Clea. The man hath seen some Majesty, and should know.

Char. Hath he seen Majefty? Isis else defend!

And serving you so long?

Cleo. I've one thing more to ask him yet, good

Charmian:

But 'tis no matter, thou shalt bring him to me
Where I will write: all may be well enough.
Char. I warrant you, Madam.

SCENE changes to Athens.

Enter Antony and Octavia,

[Exeunt,

Ant. AY, nay, Octavia, not only That,
That were excufable, That and thousands

more

Of femblable import, but he hath wag'd

New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his Will and read it To publick ear; fpoke fcantily of me;

When

When perforce he could not

But pay me terms of honour, cold and fickly
He vented them; moft narrow measure lent me;
When the best hint was given him, he not took't, (35)
Or did it from his teeth.

Oa. Oh, my good lord,

Believe not all; or if you must believe,
Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady,
If this divifion chance, ne'er ftood between,
Praying for both parts: the good Gods will mock me,
When I fhall pray, oh, bless my lord and husband!
Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud,

"Oh, blefs my brother!" Husband win, win brother,
Prays, and deftroys the prayer; no midway
"Twixt these extreams at all,

Ant. Gentle Octavia,

Let your best love draw to that point, which feeks
Beft to preserve it: if I lose mine honour,
I lofe my felf; better I were not yours,

Than yours fo branchless. But as you requested,
Your felf fhall go between's; the mean time, lady,
I'll raise the preparation of a war, (36)

(35) When the beft Hint was giv'n him, he o'erlook'd, Or did it from his Teeth.]

The firft Folio reads, not look'd. which I have inferted in the Text.

(36)

Shall

Dr. Thirlby advis'd the Emendation'

The mean time, Lady,

I'll raise the Preparation of a War,

Shall stain your Brother;]

Thus the printed Copies unanimoufly. But, fure, Antony, whofe Bufiness here is to mollify Octavia, does it with a very ill Grace: and 'tis a very odd way of fatisfying her, to tell her, the War, he raises, fhall ftain, i. e. caft an Odium upon her Brother. I have no Doubt,

but we must read, with the Addition only of a fingle Letter,

Shall ftrain your Brother.

i. e. Shall lay him under Conftraints; fhall put him to fuch Shifts, that he fhall neither be able to make a Progress against, or to prejudice, Me. And this Emendation is precifely confonant to what Plutarch fays; that Octavius, understanding the fudden and wonderfull Preparations of Antony, was not a little aftonifh'd at it; for he him

was in many Wants; and the People were forely opprefs'd with the great and grievous Exactions of Money. For every Perfon of

Condition