They make in Italy; the borders maritime

Lack blood* to think on't, and flush + youth revolt:
No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon

Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more,
Than could his war resisted.

Cas. Antony,

Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once
Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st
Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel

Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against,
Though daintily brought up, with patience more
Than savages could suffer: Thou didst drink
The stale of horses, and the gilded ‡ puddle

Which beast would cough at: thy palate then did deign
The roughest berry on the rudest hedge;

Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets,
The barks of trees thou browsed'st; on the Alps
It is reported, thou did'st eat strange flesh,
Which some did die to look on: And all this
(It wounds thine honour, that I speak it now),
Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek
So much as lank'd not.

Lep. It is pity of him.

Cas. Let his shames quickly

Drive him to Rome: "Tis time we twain
Did show ourselves i' the field; and, to that end,
Assemble we immediate council: Pompey
Thrives in our idleness.

Lep. To-morrow, Cæsar,

I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly

Both what by sea and land I can be able,

To 'front this present time.

Cas. Till which encounter,

It is my business too. Farewell.

Lep. Farewell, my lord: What you shall know mean time

Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, Sir,

To let me be partaker.

Cæs. Doubt not, Sir;

I knew it for my bond. §

SCENE V-Alexandria.

[Exeunt.

A Room in the Palace.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN.

Cleo. Charmian,—

Char. Madam.

Cleo. Ha, ha!

Give me to drink mandragora.

Char. Why, Madam?

Cleo. That I might sleep out this great gap of time,

My Antony is away.

Char. You think of him

Too much.

Cleo. O, treason!

Char. Madam, I trust, not so.

Cleo. Thou ennuch! Mardian!

Mar. What's your highness' pleasure?

Cleo. Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure In aught a eunuch has: 'Tis well for thee,

*

That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts

May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?
Mar. Yes, gracious Madam.

Cleo. Indeed ?

Mar. Not in deed, Madam; for I can do nothing But what in deed is honest to be done:

Yet have I fierce affections, and think,

What Venus did with Mars.

Cleo. O Charmian,

Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he? Or does he walk? or is he on his horse ?

O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!

Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou mov'st? The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm

And burgonet † of men.-He's speaking now,

Or murmuring, Where's my serpent of old Nile?
For so he calls me; Now I feed myself

With most delicious poison :-Think on me,
That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black,

And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Cæsar,
When thou wast here above the ground, I was
A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey
Would stand, and make his eyes grow in my brow;
There would he anchor his aspect, and die
With his looking on his life.

Enter ALEXAS.

Alex. Sovereign of Egypt, hail!

Cleo. How much unlike art thou Mark Antony? Yet, coming from him, that great medicine § hath With his tinct gilded thee.

How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?

Alex. Last thing he did, dear queen,

He kiss'd, the last of many doubled kisses,—
This orient pearl;-His speech sticks in my heart.
Cleo. Mine ear must pluck it thence.

Alex. Good friend, quoth he,

Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends
This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot

To mend the petty present, I will piece

Her opulent throne with kingdoms; All the east,
Say thou, shall call her mistress. So he nodded,
And soberly did mount a termagant steed,

Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke
Was beastly dumb'd by him.

Cleo. What, was he sad, or merry?

Alex. Like to the time o' the year between the extremes Of hot and cold; he was nor sad, nor merry.

Cleo. O well-divided disposition !-Note him,

Note him, good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him;
He was not sad; for he would shine on those
That make their looks by his: he was not merry;
Which seem'd to tell them, his remembrance lay
In Egypt with his joy: but between both;

O heavenly mingle!-Be'st thou sad, or merry,
The violence of either thee becomes;

So does it no man else.-Met'st thou my posts ?
Alex. Ay, Madam, twenty several messengers:
Why do you send so thick ?

Cleo. Who's born that day

When I forget to send to Antony,

Shall die a beggar.-Ink and paper, Charmian.-
Welcome, my good Alexas.-Did I, Charmian,
Ever love Cæsar so?

Char. O that brave Cæsar !

Cleo. Be choked with such another emphasis ! Say, the brave Antony.

Char. The valiant Cæsar!

Cleo. By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, If thou with Cæsar paragon again

My man of men.

Char. By your most gracious pardon,

I sing but after you.

Cleo. My sallad days;

When I was green in judgment:-Cold in blood,
To say, as I said then!-But, come, away:

Get me ink and paper: he shall have every day
A several greeting, or I'll unpeople Egypt.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-Messina.-A Room in POMPEY's house.

Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS.

Pom. If the great gods be just, they shall assist

The deeds of justest men.

Mene. Know, worthy Pompey,

That what they do delay, they not deny.

Pom. Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays

The thing we sue for.

Mene. We, ignorant of ourselves,

Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers,

Deny us for our good; so find we profit,

By losing of our prayers.

Pom. I shall do well:

The people love me, and the sea is mine;

My power's a crescent, and my auguring hope
Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony
In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make

No wars without doors: Cæsar gets money, where
He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both,

Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves,

Nor either cares for him.

Men. Cæsar and Lepidus

Are in the field; a mighty strength they carry.
Pom. Where have you this? 'tis false.

Men. From Silvius, Sir.

Pom. He dreams; I know, they are in Rome together, Looking for Antony: But all charms of love

Salt Clopatra, soften thy waned * lip!

Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both!
Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts,

Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks,
Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite;

That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour,
Even tilla Lethe'd dullness.-How now, Varrius?
Enter VARRIUS.

Var. This is most certain that I shall deliver:
Mark Antony is every hour in Rome

Expected; since he went from Egypt, 'tis

A space for further travel.

Pom. I could have given less matter

A better ear.-Menas, I did not think,

This amorous surfeiter would have don'd his helm
For such a petty war: his soldiership

Is twice the other twain: But let us rear
The higher our opinion, that our stirring
Can from the lap of Egypt's widow + pluck
The ne'er lust-wearied Antony.

Men. I cannot hope,

Cæsar and Antony shall well greet together:

His wife, that's dead, did trespasses to Cæsar;
His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think,
Not moved by Antony.

Pom. I know not, Menas,

How lesser enmities may give way to greater.

Were 't not that we stand up against them all,

"Twere pregnant they should square § between themselves;

For they have entertain'd cause enough

To draw their swords: but how the fear of us
May cement their divisions, and bind up
The petty difference, we yet not know.
Be it as our gods will have it! It only stands
Our lives upon, to use our strongest hands.
Come, Menas.

[Exeunt.

+ Cleopatra was the widow of Ptolemy. § Settle matters.

SCENE II.-Rome. A Room in the house of Lepidus.

Enter ENOBARBUS and LEPIDUS.

Lep. Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed,

And shall become you well, to entreat your captain

To soft and gentle speech.

Eno. I shall entreat him

To answer like himself: if Cæsar move him,

Let Antony look over Cæsar's head,
And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter,
Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard,
I would not shave to-day.

Lep. 'Tis not a time

For private stomaching.

Eno. Every time

Serves for the matter that is then born in it.
Lep. But small to greater matters must give way.
Eno. Not if the small come first.

Lep. Your speech is passion:

But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes

The noble Antony.

Enter ANTONY and VENTIDIUS.

Eno. And yonder Cæsar.

Enter CESAR, MECENAS, and AGRIPPA.

Ant. If we compose* well here, to Parthia:

Hark you, Ventidius.

Cæs. I do not know,

Mecænas; ask Agrippa.

Lep. Noble friends,

That which combined us was most great, and let not

A leaner action rend us. What's amiss,

May it be gently heard: when we debate

Our trivial difference loud, we do commit

Murder in healing wounds: Then, noble partners,

(The rather, for I earnestly beseech),

Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms,
Nor curstness † grow to the matter.

Ant. "Tis spoken well:

Were we before our armies, and to fight,

I should do thus.

Cas. Welcome to Rome.

Ant. Thank you.

Cæs. Sit.

Ant. Sit, Sir!

Cas. Nay,

Then

Ant. I learn, you take things ill, which are not so;

Or, being, concern you not.

Cas. I must be laugh'd at,

If, or for nothing, or a little, I

Should say myself offended; and with you