Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee? Dar. To kill him, Clitus: Look, he meditates. Cli. Now is that noble vessel full of grief, That it runs over even at his eyes. Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius: list a word. Vol. What says my lord? Bru. Why, this, Volumnius: The ghost of Cæsar hath appear'd to me Two several times by night: at Sardis, once; And, this last night, here in Philippi' fields. I know, my hour is come. Vol. Not so, my lord. Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep; Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest, Cli. Fly, my lord, fly. Bru. Hence; I will follow thee. [Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius. I pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord: Thou art a fellow of a good respect; Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it: Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato? Stra. Give me your hand first: Fare you well, my lord. (1) Receive into my service. (2) Recommend. Oct. What man is that? Mes. My master's man.-Strato, where is thy master? Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala; And no man else hath honour by his death. That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true. Mes. Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all: All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar; He, only, in a general honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle; and the elements So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up, And say to all the world, This was a man! Oct. According to his virtue let us use him, With all respect and rites of burial. Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.-So, call the field to rest: and let's away, To part the glories of this happy day. [Exeunt. NAY, but this dotage of our general's, Take but good note, and you shall see in him Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much. Ant. There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd. Cleo. I'll set a bourn? how far to be belov'd. Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth. If the scarce-bearded Cæsar have not sent Ant. How, my love! Cleo. Perchance,-nay, and most like, You must not stay here longer, your dismission Is come from Cæsar; therefore hear it, Antony.Where's Fulvia's process?5 Cæsar's, I would say? Both? But stirr'd by Cleopatra.Now, for the love of Love, and her soft hours, Let's not confound the time with conference harsh: There's not a minute of our lives should stretch Without some pleasure now: What sport to-night? Cleo. Hear the ambassadors. Ant. Fie, wrangling queen! Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, (5) Summons. To weep; whose every passion fully strives [Exeunt Ant. and Cleo, with their train. Dem. Char. Even as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine. Iras. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. Char. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear.-Pr'ythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune. Sooth. Your fortunes are alike. Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars. Iras. Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it? Iras. Not in my husband's nose. Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend! A[Exeunt.lexas,-come, his fortune, his fortune.--O, let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! And let her die too, and give him a worse! and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good Isis,3 hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee! SCENE II-The same. Another room. Enter Charmian, Iras, Alexas, and a Soothsayer. Char. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew this husband, which, you say, must change his horns with garlands! Alex. Soothsayer. Eno. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough, Char. Good sir, give me good fortune. Char. Pray then, foresee me one. Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer than you are. Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old. Alex. Vex not his prescience; be attentive. Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than beloved. Char. Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all: let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius Cæsar, and companion me with my mistress. Sooth. You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. Than that which is to approach. Char. Then, belike, my children shall have no names: Pr'ythee, how many boys and wenches must I have? Sooth. If every of your wishes had a womb, And fertile every wish, a million. Char. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. Alex. You think, none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers. Alex. We'll know all our fortunes. Eno. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be-drunk to bed. Iras. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. Iras. Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! for, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded; Therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly! Char. Amen. Name Cleopatra as she's call'd in Rome : one? 2 Att. He stays upon your will. Let him appear.- Enter another Messenger. Or lose myself in dotage.-What are you? Where died she? 2 Mess. In Sicyon: The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; Eno. What's your pleasure, sir? Ant. I must be gone. Eno. Under a compelling occasion, let women die: It were pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment: I do think, there is mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such a celerity in dying. Ant. She is cunning past man's thought. Eno. Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love: We cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove. Ant. 'Would I had never seen her! Eno. Fulvia? Eno. Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When it please th their deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth; comforting therein, that when old robes are worn out, there are members to make new. If there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new petticoat :--and, indeed, the tears live in an onion, that should water this sorrow. Ant. The business she hath broached in the state, Eno. And the business you have broached here, Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life, Eno. I shall do't. [Exeunt. SCENE III-Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas. Cleo. Where is he? I did not see him since. Cleo. See where he is, who's with him, what he does - I did not send you ;7-If you find him sad, [Exit Alex. Char. Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, You do not hold the method to enforce Cleo. Thou teachest like a fool: the way to lose Char. Tempt him not so too far: I wish, forbear; In time we hate that which we often fear. Enter Antony. Eno. O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderI am sick, and sullen. Cleo. ful piece of work; which not to have been bless-But here comes Antony. ed withal, would have discredited your travel. Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my pur Ant. Fulvia is dead. Eno. Sir? Ant. Fulvia is dead. (1) In some editions minds. (2) Tilling, ploughing; prepares us to produce, good seed. It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature What says the married woman?--You may go; Cleo. Cut my lace, Charmian, come ;But let it be.-I am quickly ill, and well: So Antony loves. Ant. My precious queen, forbear; And give true evidence to his love, which stands An honourable trial. Cleo. So Fulvia told me. I pr'ythee, turn aside, and weep for her; O, never was there queen Of excellent dissembling; and let it look So mightily betray'd! Yet, at the first, Cleopatra, Cleo. Why should I think, you can be mine, and true, Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, Which break themselves in swearing! Ant. Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor, Ant. How now, lady! Cleo. I would, I had thy inches; thou should'st know, There were a heart in Egypt. Ant. Hear me, queen: The strong necessity of time commands Our services a while; but my full heart Remains in use with you. Our Italy Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius Makes his approaches to the ports of Rome: Equality of two domestic powers Breeds scrupulous faction: The hated, grown to strength, Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey, Is Fulvia's death. Cleo. Though age from folly could not give freedom, It does from childishness:-Can Fulvia die ?5 Ant. She's dead, my queen: Look here, and, at thy sovereign leisure, read The garboils she awak'd:6 at the last, best: See, when, and where she died. me Cleo. (1) The arch of our eye-brows. (2) Smack or flavour. (4) Render my going not dangerous. (5) Can Fulvia be dead? (6) The commotion she occasioned. Ant. And target,-Still he mends; Ant. I'll leave you, lady. Cleo. Courteous lord, one word. Sir, you and I must part,-but that's not it: Sir, you and I have lov'd,-but there's not it; That you know well: Something it is I would,O, my oblivion10 is a very Antony, And I am all forgotten. Ant. But that your royalty Holds idleness your subject, I should take you For idleness itself. Cleo. 'Tis sweating labour, To bear such idleness so near the heart As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me; Since my becomings kill me, when they do not Eye well to you: Your honour calls you hence; Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly, And all the gods go with you! upon your sword Sit laurel'd victory! and smooth success Be strew'd before your feet! Ant. Let us go. Come; Our separation so abides, and flies, That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me, And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. Away. [Exeunt. SCENE IV-Rome. An apartment in Cæsar's house. Enter Octavius Caesar, Lepidus, and Attendants. Cas. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, It is not Cæsar's natural vice to hate One great competitor: From Alexandria More womanly than he hardly gave audience, or Vouchsaf'd to think he had partners: You shall find there A man, who is the abstract of all faults Cas. You are too indulgent: Let us grant, it is not (7) Mud of the river Nile. (8) To me, the queen of Egypt. (9) Heat. (10) Oblivious memory. (11) Associate or partner. (12) Procured by his own fault. |