Which break themselves in swearing!

Ant.

Most sweet queen!

Cle. Nay, pray you, seek no color for your going; But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying, Then was the time for words: no going then ;Eternity was in our lips and eyes;

Bliss in our brows' bent; 1 none our parts so poor, But was a race of heaven: 2 they are so still,

Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,

Art turn'd the greatest liar.

Ant.

How now, lady?

Cle. I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst

know

There were a heart in Egypt.

Ant.

Hear me, queen:

The strong necessity of time commands

Our services awhile; but my full heart
Remains in use with you. Our Italy

Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius
Makes his approaches to the port 3 of Rome :
Equality of two domestic powers

Breeds scrupulous faction. The hated, grown to strength,

Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey,
Rich in his father's honor, creeps apace

Into the hearts of such as have not thrived
Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten ;
And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge

1 In the arch of our eyebrows.
2 Of heavenly origin.

• Gate.

By any desperate change. My more particular,
And that which most with you should safe my going,'
Is Fulvia's death.

Cle. Though age from folly could not give me freedom,

It does from childishness.-Can Fulvia die?
Ant. She's dead, my queen :

Look here, and, at thy sovereign leisure, read
The garboils 2 she awaked; at the last, best:
See, when and where she died.

Cle.
O most false love!
Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill
With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,
In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know
The purposes I bear, which are, or cease,
As you
shall give the advice. By the fire
That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence,
Thy soldier, servant; making peace or war,
As thou affect'st.

Cle.

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 honorable trial.

Cle.

So Fulvia told me.

I pr'ythee, turn aside, and weep for her;

1 Should reconcile you to my departure.

2 Tumults.

Then bid adieu to me, and say, the tears

Belong to Egypt.1 Good now, play one scene
Of excellent dissembling; and let it look

Like perfect honor.

Ant.

You'll heat my blood; no more.

Cle. You can do better yet; but this is meetly.

Ant. Now, by my sword,

Cle.

And target :—still he mends;

But this is not the best. Look, pr'ythee, Charmian,

How this Herculean Roman does become

The carriage of his chafe.

Ant. I'll leave you, lady.

Cle.

Courteous lord, one word.

Sir, you and I must part,-but that's not it:

Sir, you and I have loved,-but there's not it; That you know well. Something it is I would :— O, my oblivion 2 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.

Cle.

'Tis sweating labor,

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 honor calls you hence;
Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly,

And all the gods go with you! upon your sword

1 i. e. to me, the queen of Egypt.

2 Oblivious memory.

Sit laurel 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, goest yet with me,
And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.

Away!

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Rome. An apartment in Cæsar's house.

Enter OCTAVIUS CÆSAR, LEPIDUS, and Attendants.

Ca. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, It is not Cæsar's natural vice to hate

One great competitor. From Alexandria

This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes The lamps of night in revel; is not more manlike Than Cleopatra, nor the queen Ptolemy

More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or Vouchsafed to think he had partners. You shall find there

A man, who is the abstract of all faults

That all men follow.

Lep.

I must not think there are

Evils enough to darken all his goodness:
His faults, in him, seem as the spots of heaven,
More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary,
Rather than purchased; 1 what he cannot change,

' Procured by his own fault.

Than what he chooses.

Ca. You are too indulgent. Let us grant, it is

not

Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy;

To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit

And keep the turn of tippling with a slave;

To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet With knaves that smell of sweat: say, this becomes

him,

(As his composure must be rare indeed,

Whom these things cannot blemish) yet must An

tony

No way excuse his soils, when we do bear
So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd
His vacancy with his voluptuousness,

Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones

Call on him for 't: but, to confound 2 such time, That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud As his own state and ours ;-'tis to be chid

As we rate boys; who, being mature in knowlege, Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, And so rebel to judgment.

Lep.

Enter MESSENGER.

Here's more news.

Mes. Thy biddings have been done; and every

hour,

Most noble Cæsar, shalt thou have report

1 Visit him.

2 Waste.