In ftate of health, thou fay'ft; and thou fay'ft free. Mef. Free, Madam! no: I made no fuch report. He's bound unto Octavia.

Cleo. For what good turn?

Mef. For the best turn i' th' bed.

Cleo. I am pale, Charmian.

Mef. Madam, he's married to Octavia,

Cleo. The most infectious peftilence upon thee!

Mef. Good Madam, patience.

Cleo. What fay you?

[Strikes him down.

[Strikes him.

Hence, horrible villain, or I'll fpurn thine eyes
Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head;

[She bales him up and down. Thou shalt be whipt with wire, and ftew'd in brine, Smarting in lingring pickle.

Mef. Gracious Madam,

I, that do bring the news, made not the match.
Cleo. Say, 'tis not fo, a province I will give thee,
And make thy fortunes proud; the blow, thou hadft,
Shall make thy peace, for moving me to rage,
And I will boot thee with what gift befide

Thy modefty can beg.

Mef. He's married, Madam.

Cleq. Rogue, thou haft liv'd too long.

Mef. Nay, then I'll run:

[Draws a Knife.

[Exit.

What mean you, Madam? I have made no fault:

Char. Good Madam, keep yourself within yourself, The man is innocent.

Cleo. Some innocents 'fcape not the thunderboltMelt Egypt into Nile; and kindly creatures Turn all to ferpents! Call the flave again, Though I am mad, I will not bite him. Call, Char. He is afraid to come.

Cleo. I will not hurt him.

Thefe hands do lack nobility, that they ftrike
A meaner than myfelf, fince I myself

Have given myfelf the caufe. Come hither, Sir,

Re-enter

Re-enter the Messenger.

Though it be honeft, it is never good
To bring bad news. Give to a gracious meffage
An hoft of tongues, but let ill tidings tell
Themselves, when they be felt.

Mef. I have done my duty.

Cleo. Is he married?

I cannot hate thee worfer than I do,

If you again fay, Yes.

Mef. He's married, Madam.

Cleo. The Gods confound thee!

there ftill?

Mef. Should I lye, Madam?

Cleo. Oh, I would, thou didft;

doft thou hold

So half my Egypt were fubmerg'd, and made
A ciftern for fcal'd fnakes! go, get thee hence,
Hadft thou Narciffus in thy face, to me

Thou wouldst appear moft ugly he is married?
Mef. I crave your Highnefs' pardon.

Cleo. He is married?

you;

Mef. Take no offence, that I would not offend To punish me for what you make me do, Seems much unequal. He's married to Octavia. Cleo. Oh, that his fault fhould make a knave of

thee,

(6) That art not what thou'rt fure of!-Get thee hence, The merchandises, thou haft brought from Rome, Are all too dear for me:

Lie they upon thy hand, and be undone by 'em!

[Exit Meffenger.

(6) That art not what thou'rt fure of!] For this, which is not easily understood, Sir Tho. Hanmer has given,

That fay'ft but what thou'rt fure of!

I am not fatisfied with the change, which, though it affords fenfe, exhibits little fpirit. I fancy the line confifts only of abrupt starts. Oh, that his fault fhould make a knave of thee,

That art-not what?-Thou'rt fure on't.-Get thee hence; That his fault fhould make a knave of thee that art-but what fball I fay thou art not?-Thou art then fure of this marriage. Get thee hence.

Dr. Warburton has received Sir T. Hanmer's emendation.

Char.

Char. Good your Highness, patience.

Cleo. In praifing Antony, I have difprais'd Cæfar.
Char. Many times, Madam.

Cleo. I am paid for it now: lead me from hence,
I faint; oh Iras, Charmian-'tis no matter..
* Go to the fellow, good Alexas, bid him
Report the feature of Octavia, her years,
Her inclination; let him not leave out

The colour of her hair. Bring me word quickly-
(7) Let him for ever go-Let him not-Charmian-
Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,
Th' other way he's Mars-Bid you Alexas
Bring word, how tall the is. Pity me, Charmian,
But speak not to me. Lead me to my chamber.

SCENE VI.

[Exeunt.

Changes to the Coaft of Italy, near Misenum:

Enter Pompey and Menas, at one door, with drum and trumpet: At another, Cæfar, Lepidus, Antony, Enobarbus, Mecanas, Agrippa, with Soldiers marching..

Pomp. YOUR hoftages I have, fo have you mine;

And we shall talk before we fight.

Caf. Moft meet,

That firft we come to words; and therefore have we Our written purpofes before us fent;

Which if thou haft confider'd let us know

If 'twill tie up thy difcontented fword,

*Cleo. Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him
Report the feature of Octavia, her years,
Her inclination; let him not leave out

The colour of her hair]

This is a manifest allufion to the question put by Queen Elizabeth to Sir James Melvil, concerning his miftrefs, the Queen of Scots. "She defired to know of me what colour of hair was "reputed beft? And whether my Queen's hair or her's was "beft? And which of them two was fairest I answered the "fairnefs of them was not their worft faults. Dr. GRAY.

(7) Let him for ever go] She is now talking in broken fentences, not of the Meffenger, but Antony.

And

And carry back to Sicily much tall youth,
That elfe muft perish here.

Pomp. To you all three,

The Senators alone of this great world,
Chief factors for the Gods.I do not know,
Wherefore my Father fhould Revengers want,
Having a Son and Friends; fince Julius Cæfar,
Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghofted,
There faw you labouring for him.

What was it,
That mov'd pale Caffius to confpire ? and what
Made thee, all honour'd, honeft Roman, Brutus,
With the arm'd reft, courtiers of beauteous freedom,
To drench the Capitol, but that they would
Have one man, but a man? And that is it,
Hath made me rig my Navy: At whofe burden
The anger'd Ocean foams, with which I meant
To fcourge th' ingratitude that despightful Rome
Caft on my noble Father.

Caf. Take your time.

Ant. (8) Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy fails;

We'll speak with thee at fea. At.land, thou know'st, How much we do o'er-count thee.

Pomp. At land, indeed,

Thou doft o'er-count me of my Father's house.
(9) But fince the cuckow builds not for himself,
Remain in't, as thou mayft.

Lep. Be pleas'd to tell us,

For this is from the prefent, how you take
The offers we have fent you.

Caf. There's the point:

Ant. Which do not be intreated to, but weigh What it is worth embrac'd.

Caf. And what may follow

To try a larger fortune.

Pomp. You've made me offer

Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I muft

(8) Thou canst not fear us, -] Thou canst not affright us with thy numerous navy.

(9) But fince the cuckow builds not for himfelf,] Since like the cuckow, that feizes the nefts of other birds, you have invaded a houfe which you could not build, keep it while you can.