Not being fortune, he's but fortune's knave, To do that thing, that ends all other deeds; Enter Proculeius. Pro. Cæfar fends Greeting to the Queen of Egypt, And bids thee study on what fair demands Thou mean'ft to have him grant thee. Cleo. What's thy name? Pro. My name is Proculeius. Cleo. Antony Did tell me of you, bad me truft you, but That have no use for trufting. If your mafter That Majefty, to keep decorum, must No lefs beg than a Kingdom; if he please (59) Which fleeps, and never palates more the Dung, The Beggar's Nurfe, and Cæfar's.] Our Poet has made Antony fay, at the Beginning of this Tragedy, that the dungy Earth alike Feeds Beaft, as Man: but how are we to understand here, palating the Dung? The Text is certainly corrupt, and must be flightly help'd; and tho' then we can't make it ftrictly grammatical, we fhall come at the Poet's detach'd and separate Allufions. I read, Which fleeps and never palates more the Dug: I'll explain the whole of Cleopatra's Reflections, as they lie, by a short Paraphrafe. ""Tis Great in us to do that Action, (i. e. give our "felves Death,) which puts an End to all other Actions; and which "prevents and difappoints Accidents and Change of Fortune. While in Life, like flumbering Children, we palate and tamper for the Dug; but in the fleep of Death, we hone no more after tranfitory Enjoyments. Death rocks us all into a faft and unbroken fleep; and is equally a Nurfe to the Beggar, in this refpect, as it is to Cafar". The Close of this Reflection is juft what Horace has exprefs'd by a different Image. 66 66 66 Pallida Mors æquo pulfat pede pauperum tabernas, Lib. I. Ode. 4. Mr. Warburton. To ་ To give me conquer'd Egypt for my Son, Pro. Be of good cheer: You're faln into a princely hand, fear nothing; Cleo. Pray you, tell him, I am his fortune's vaffal, and I fend him Pro. This I'll report, dear lady. Have comfort, for, I know, your plight is pity'd [Here Gallus, and Guard, afcend the Monument by a Gall. You fee, how eafily fhe may be furpriz'd. (60) Iras. O Royal Queen! Char. Oh Cleopatra ! thou art taken, Queen. Cleo. Quick, quick, good hands. [Drawing a Dagger. [The Monument is open'd; Proculeius rushes in, and difarms the Queen. (60) Char. You fee, how easily she may be furpriz'd,] Here Charmian, who is fo faithful as to die with her Mistress, by the ftupidity of the Editors is made to countenance and give Directions for her being furpriz'd by Cafar's Meffengers. But this Blunder is for want of knowing, or obferving, the historical Fact. When Cæfar fent Proculeius to the Queen, he fent Gallus after him with new Inftructions and while one amufed Cleopatra with Propofitions from Cæfar, thro' Crannies of the Monument; the other fcaled it by a Ladder, enter'd at a Window backward, and made Cleopatra, and those with her, Prifoners. I have reform'd the. Paffage therefore, (as, I am perfwaded, the Author defign'd it) from the Authority of Plutarch. : VOL. VI. Y Pro. Pro. Hold, worthy lady, hold: Do not your felf fuch wrong, who are in this Cleo. What, of death too, that rids our dogs of languifh? Pro. Do not abuse my master's bounty, by Th' undoing of your felf: let the world fee His Nobleness well acted, which your death Will never let come forth. Cleo. Where art thou, Death? Come hither, come: oh come, and take a Queen Pro. Oh temperance, lady! Cleo. Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, Sir: I'll not fleep neither. This mortal houfe I'll ruin, My Country's high Pyramides my gibbet, Pro. You do extend These thoughts of horror further than Find cause in Cæfar. Dol. Proculeius, Enter Dolabella. What thou haft done thy mafter Cæfar knows, Pro. So, Dolabella, It fhall content me beft; be gentle to her; Cleo. Clea. Say, I would die. [Exit Proculeius. Dol. Moft noble Empress, you have heard of me. Dol. Affuredly, you know me. Cleo. No matter, Sir, what I have heard or known: You laugh, when boys or women tell their dreams; Is't not your trick? Dol. I understand not, Madam. Cleo. I dreamt, there was an Emp'ror Antony z Oh fuch another fleep, that I might fee But fuch another man! Dok. If it might pleafe ye Cleo. His face was as the heav'ns; and therein stuck A Sun and Moon, which kept their course, and lighted (61) The little O o'th' Earth. Dol. Moft fovereign creature! Cleo. His legs beftrid the ocean, his rear'd arm (61) A Sun and Moon which kept their Course, and lighted Moft fou'reign Creature!] What a bleffed limping Verfe these two Hemiftichs give us! Had none of the Editors an Ear to find the Hitch in its Pace? 'Tis true, there is but a Syllable wanting, and that, I believe verily, was but of a fingle Letter; which the firft Editors not understanding, learnedly threw it out as a Redundance. I restore, The little oth' Earth. i. e. the little Orb or Circle. And, 'tis plain, our Poet in other Paffages chufes to exprefs himfelf thus, Rof. O, that your Face were not so full of O'es. i. e. of round Dimples, Pitts with the fmall Pox. The vafty Field of France? or can we cram, Fair Helena, who more engilds the Night i.. the Circles, Orbs, of the Stars. Love's Lab. loft. Prol. ta Henry V. Midfummer Night's Dream. He was as ratling thunder. For his bounty, (62) Walk'd Crowns and Coronets, realms and islands were Dol. Cleopatra Cleo. Think you, there was, or might be, fuch a man As this I dreamt of? Dol. Gentle Madam, no. Cleo. You lie, up to the hearing of the Gods; But if there be, or ever were one fuch, It's past the size of dreaming: Nature wants stuff (63) To (62) -- For his Bounty, There was no Winter in't: an Antony it was, There was certainly a Contraft, both in the Thought and Terms, defign'd here, which is loft in an accidental Corruption. How could an Antony grow the more by reaping? I'll venture, by a very easy Change, to restore an exquifite fine Allufion and which carries its Reason with it too, why there was no Winter (i. e. no Want, Barenefs,) in his Bounty. For his Bounty, There was no Winter in't: an Autumn 'twas, That grew the more by reaping. I ought to take Notice, that the ingenious Dr. Thirlby likewife ftarted this very Emendation, and had mark'd it in the Margin of his Book. The Reafon of the Depravation might eafily arife from the great Similitude of the two Words in the old way of spelling, Antonie and Automne. Our Author has employ'd this Thought again in a Poem, cal'd, True Admiration. Speak of the Spring and Foyzen of the Year, And you in evry bleed shape we know. For 'tis plain, that Foyzen means Autumn here, which pours out its Profufion of Fruits bountifully; in Oppofition to Spring, which only fhews the youthful Beauty, and Promise of that future Bounty. (63) Nature wants fiuff To vye frange Forms with Fancy; yet t'imagine This is a fine Sentiment, but unintelligible in the prefent falfe Reading and Pointing: and, even when fet right in thefe Particulars, is ftill obfcure |