May be a Coward's, whofe Minifters would prevail,
Under the fervice of a Child, as foon

As i'th' Command of Cafar. I dare him therefore
To lay his gay comparifons apart,

And anfwer me declin'd, Sword against Sword,

Our felves alone; I'll write it, follow me. [Exit Antony.
Eno. Yes, like enough: hye-battel'd Cafar will
Unftate his happiness, and be Stag'd to th' fhew
Against a Sworder. I fee Mens judgments are
A parcel of their Fortunes, and things outward
Do draw the inward quality after them
To fuffer all alike. That he should dream,
Knowing all measures, the full Cafar will
Anfwer his emptinefs; Cafar thou haft fubdu'd
His judgment too.

Enter a Servant.
Ser. A Meffenger from Cafar.

Cleo. What, no more Ceremony? See my Women,
Against the blown Rofe may they ftop their Nofe,
That kneel'd unto the Buds. Admit him, Sir.
Eno. Mine honefty, and I, begin to square;
The Loyalty well held to Fools, does make
Our Faith meer Folly: yet he that can endure
To follow with Allegiance a fall'n Lord,

Do's conquer him that did his Mafter conquer,
And earns a place i'th' Story.

Cleo. Cafar's Will.

Thid. Hear it apart.

Enter Thidias.

Cleo. None but Friends; fay boldly.
Thid. So haply are they Friends to Antony.
Ene. he needs as many, Sir, as Cafar has;
Or needs not us. If Cafar please, our Mafter
Will leap to be his Friend: For as you know,

Whofe he is, we are, and that is Cafar's.

Thid. So. Thus then thou most renown'd, Cafar intreats Not to confider in what cafe thou ftand'ft

Further than he is Cafar.

As

Cleo. Go on, right Royal.

Thid. He knows that you embrace not Antony

you did love, but as you feared him.

Cleo.

Cleo. Oh!

Thid. The fears upon your Honour, therefore he Do's pity, as conftrained blemishes,

Not as deferved.

[Afide.

Cleo. He is a god, and knows what is moft right. Mine Honour was not yielded, but conquer'd meerly. Eno. To be fure of that, I will ask Antony.

Sir, Sir, thou art fo leaky

That we muft leave thee to thy finking, for
Thy deareft quit thee.

Thid. Shall I fay to Cafar,

What you require of him: for he partly begs

[Exit Eno.

To be defir'd to give. It much would pleafe him,
That of his Fortunes you should make a Staff

To lean upon. But it would warm his Spirits,

To hear from me you had left Antony,

And put your felf under his Shrowd, the univerfal Landlord. Cleo. What's your Name?

Thid. My Name is Thidias.

Cleo. Moft kind Meffenger;

Say to great Cafar this in difputation,

Ikifs his conqu'ring Hand: Tell him, I am prompt

To lay my Crown at's Feet, and there to kneel.
Tell him that from his all-obeying breath,

I hear the doom of Egypt.

Thid. 'Tis your nobleft courfe:
Wisdom and Fortune combating together,
If that the former dare but what it can,
No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay
My Duty on your Hand.

Cleo. Your Cafar's Father oft,

When he hath mus❜d of taking Kingdoms in,
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 Thidias kifs her Hand.

Thid. One that but performs

The bidding of the fulleft Man, and worthieft

To have command obey'd

Eno. You will be whipp'd..

Ant.

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?

I am Antony yet. Take hence this Jack and whip him.
Enter a Servant.

Eno. 'Tis better playing with a Lion's Whelp,
Than with an old one dying.

Ant. Moon and Stars!

Whip him: were twenty of the greatest tributaries
That do acknowledge Cafar, fhould I find them
So fawcy with the hand of the 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.
Thid. Mark Antony-

Ant. Tug him away; being whipt,

Bring him again, the Jack of Cafar's fhall
Bear us an Errand to him.

[Exeunt with Thidias.

You were half blafted e'er I knew you: Ha!
Have I my Pillow left unpreft in Rome,
Forborn the geting 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 ben a Boggler ever,
But when we in our Vicioufnefs grew hard,
Oh mifery on't, the wife gods feal our Eyes
In our own filth, drop our clear judgments, make us
Adore our errors, laugh at's while we ftrut
To our confufion.

Cleo. Oh, is't come to this?

Ant. I found you as a Morfel, cold upon
Dead Cafar's Trencher: Nay, you were a Fragment
Of Cneius Pompey's, befides what hotter hours
Unregiftred 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.

Cleo. Wherefore is this?

Ant. To let a Fellow that will take rewards,

And

And fay, God quit you, be familiar with
My Play-fellow, your hand; this Kingly Seal,
And plighter of high Hearts! O that I were
Upon the Hill of Bafan, to out-roar

The horned Herd, for I have Savage caufe.
And to proclain it civilly, were lie

Ahalter'd Neck, which does the Hangman thank
For being yare about him. Is he whip'd?
Enter a Servant with Thidias.

Ser. Soundly, my Lord,

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

Ser. 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 Feaver thee,

Shake to look on't. Go get thee back to Cafar,
Tell him thy entertainment: look thou fay,
He make me angry with him. For he feems
Proud and difdair ful, harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry,
And at this time most easie 'tis to do't:

When my good Stars, that were my former guides
Have empty left their Orbs, and thot their Fires,
Into the Abifm of Hell. If he mislike

My Speech, and what is done, tell him he has
Hiparchus, my enfranched Bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he hall like to quit me. Urge it thou:
Hence with thy ftripes, be gone.

Cleo. Have you done yet?

[Exit Thid.

Ant. Alack, our Terrene Moon is now Eclips'd,

And it portends alone the fall of Antony.

Cleo. I muft ftay his time.

Ant. To flatter Cefar, 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,

VOL. VI.

E

And

And poifon it in the fource, and the firft Stone
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,
By the difcattering of this pelletted ftorm,
Lie Gravelefs, 'till the Flies and Gnats of Nile
Have buried them for prey.

Ant. I am fatisfied:

Cafar fets down in Alexandria, where

I will oppofe his Fate. Our Force by Land,
Hah nobly held, and fever'd Navy too

Have knit again, and Float, threatning moft Sea-like.
Where haft thou been my Heart? doft thou hear, Lady?
If from the Field I fhall return once more

To kifs the fe Lips, I will appear in Blood,
I, and my Sword, will earn my Chronicle,
There's hope in't yet.

Cleo. That's my brave Lord."

Ant. I will be treble-finewed, hearted, breath'd,
And fight maliciously: for when mine hours
Were nice and lucky, Men did ranfome Lives
Of me for Jells; but now, I'll fet my Teeth,
And fend to darkness all that ftop me. Come,
Let's have one other gawdy Night: Call to me
All my fad Caprains, fill our Bowls; once moret
Let's mock the Midnight Bell.

Cleo. It is my Birth-day,

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

Ant. We will yet do well.

Cleo. Call all his noble Captains to my Lord.

my Lord

Ant. Do fo, we'll fpeak to them, and to Night I'll force The Wine peep through their Scars. 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 Scythe.

[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 Eftridge; and I fee ftill A diminution in our Captain's Brain

Reftores