« PreviousContinue »
To lay his gay comparisons apart
And aniwer me declin'd, sword against fword,
Ourselves aloile. I'll write it. Follow me.
Enı..Yes, like enough ; high-battled Cæsar will
Unstate his happiness, and be staged to th’ thewo
Againit a svorder.-I see men's judgments are
A parcel of their fortunes, and things outward
Do draw the inward quality after
To suffer all alike. That he should dream,
Knowing all measures, the full Cæfar will
Answer his emptiness !-Cæfar, thou hast subdu'd
His judgment too.
Enter a Servant. Sero. A messenger from Cæsar. Cleo. What, no more ceremony ? See, my wo•
men! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose, That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, Sir.
E10. Mine honesty and I begin to square :
Tho' loyalty well held to fools, does niake
Our faith mere folly; yet he that can endare
To follow with allegiance a fall’n lord,
Does conquer him that did his master conquer,
And earnis a place i’ th’ story.
Cleo. Cæsar's will ?
Thyr. Hear it apart,
Cleo. None but friends. Say boldly.
Thyr. So haply are they friends to Antony.
Eno. He needs as many, Sir, as Cæfar has,
Or needs not us. If Cæsar please, our master
Will leap to be liis friend; for us, you know
Whose he is, we are, and that's Cæsar's.
I require of Cæfar not to depend on that superiority which the comparison of our different fortunes may exhibit to him, but to answer me man to man, in this decline of my age and power. Johnfon.
Thus then, thou most renown'd, Cæsar intreats,
Not to consider in what case thou stand'It
Further than he is Cæfar.
Cleo. Gö on.
Thyr. He knows that you embrace not Antony
As you did love, but as you fear'd him.
[Aside. Thyr. The scars upon your honour therefore he Does pity, as constrained blemihes, Not as deferv'd.
Cleo. He is a god, and knows
What is most right. Mine honour was not yielded,
But conquer'd merely,
Eno. To be sure of that,
I will ask Antony-Sir, Sir, thou art so leaky,
That we must leave thee to thy smking, for
Thy deareit quit thee.
Thyr. Shall I say.to Cæfar:
What you require of him? For he partly becs
To be desir'd to give. It much would please him,
That of his fortunes you would make a stat
To lean upon.
But it would warın his spirits to hear from me.
You had left Antony, and put yourself
Under his firoud, the universal landlord.
Cleo. What's your name?
Thyr. My name is Thyreus.
Cleo. Molt kind messenger,
Say to great Cælar this ; in deputation
I kiss his conqu’ring hand : tell him l'ın 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.
Thyr. 'Tis your nobleit course :
Wiidom and fortune combating together,
If that the former dare but what it can,
No chance may flake it. Give me grace to lay
My duty on your hand.
Cleo. Your Cæfar's father oft,
When he hath mus'd of taking kingdoms in,
Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place,
As it rain'd kisses,
S CE N E X.
Enter Antony, and Enobarbus. Ani. Favours ! by Jove that thunders.
[Seeing Tyreus kiss her hands What art thou, fellow?
Thyr. One that but performs
The bidding of the fullest inan, and worthiest
To have command obey'd.
Eno. You will be whipp'd.
Ant. Approach thereah, you kire ! Now,
gods and devils ! Authority melts from ine. Of late when I cry'd,
hoa ! Like boys unto a muss *; kings would start forth, And cry, your will ? Have you no ears? I'm Antony yet. Take hence this Jack, and whip him.
Eno. 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp,
Than with an old one dying.
Ant. Moon and stars !
Whip hiir.-Were't twenty of the greatest tribu-
taries That do acknowledge Cæsar, should I find them So faucy with the hand of She here, (what's her
Since she was Cleopatra?)--Whip him, fellows,
Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face,
And whine aloud for mercy. Take him hence.
Thyr. Mark Antony
Ant. Tug him away; being whipp'd, Bring him again : this Jack of Cæsar's shall Bear us an errand to him. [Exeunt with Thyri : You were half blasted ere I knew you: ha ! Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome, Forborn the getting of a lawful
race, And by a gem of women, to be abus'd.
* 1. 4. A scramble. Pope.
By one that looks on feeders?
Cleo. Good my Lord,
Ant. You have been a boggler ever.
But when we in our viciousness grow hard,
Oh misery on't! the wise gods feel our eyes
In our own filth, drop our clear judgments, make us
Adore our errors, laugh at's while we strut
To our confusjon.
Cleo. Oh, is't come to this?
Aut. I found you as a morsel, cold upon Dead Cæsar's trencher : nay, you were a fragment: Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours, Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have Luxuriously prick'd out. For, I am sure, 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 say, God quit you, be familiar with,
My play-fellow, your hand; this kingly feal,
And plighter of higli hearts. -- that I were
Upon the hill of Bafan, to outroar
The horned herd, for I have favage cause !
And to proclaim it civilly, were. like
A halter'd neck, which does the hangman thank:
For being yare about him. Is he whipp’d?
Re-enter. a Servant, with Thyreus.
Serv. Soundly, my Lord.
Ant. Cry'd he ? and begg'd a' pardon ?
Sero. He did ask favour.
Ant. If that thy father. live, let him repent
Thou waft not made his daughter: and be thou sorry
To follow Cæsar in his triumph, since
Thou hast been whipp'd for following him. Hence-
The white hand of a lady fever thee, [forth,
Shake thou to look on't. - Get thee back to Cæfar, ,
Tell him thy entertainment; look thou say
He makes me angry with himn :- for he seems
Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry.
And, at this time, moft easy 'uis to.dolt,
When my good stars, that were my former guides,
Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires
Into the abysın of hell. If he mislike
My speech, and what is done, tell him, he has
Hipparchus my enchanchis'd bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he shall like, to quit me. Urge it thou.
Hence with thy stripes, be gone. [Exit Thyreus,
Cleo. Have you done yet?
Ant. Alack, our terrene moon is now eclips’ds. And it portends alone the fall of Antony.
Cleo. I must stay his time.
ant. To flatter Cæiar, would you mingle eyes With one that ties his points ?
Cleo. Not know me yet?
Ant. Cold-hearted toward me!
Cleo. An, dear, if I be fo,
From my cold' heart let Heav'n ingender hail,
And poison't in the source, and the first stone
Drop in my neck; as it determines, fo
Diffolve my life! the next Cæsario smite !
'Till by degrees the memory of my womb,
Together with my brave Ægyptians all,
By the discandying of this pelleted storm,
Ly graveless: 'till the flies and gnats of Nile
Have buried them for prey !
Ant. I'm satisfy'd :
Cæsar fits down in Alexandria, where
I will oppole his fate. Our force by land
Haih nobly held ; our sever'd navy 100
Have knit again, and float, threatning inost sea-like.
Where haft ihou been, my heart? Dost thou hear,
If from the field I should return once more
To kiss thele 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.
fint. I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breath’d, And fight maliciously. For when my hours Were nice and lucky, men did random lives. Of ine for jefts;. but now I'll set my teeth,.