I laught him into patience; and next morn, Enter a Meffenger. Ram thou thy faithful tidings in mine ears, Mef. Madam! Madam! Cleo. Antony's dead? If thou fay fo, villain, thou kill'ft thy miftrefs: If thou fo yield him, there is gold, and here Me. Firft, Madam, he is well. Cleo. Why, there's more gold. But, firrah, mark, we use To fay, the dead are well: bring it to that, The gold, I give thee, will I melt and pour Down thy ill-uttering throat. Mef. Good Madam, hear me. Clea. Well, go to, I will: But there's no goodness in thy face. If Antony (15) whilft I wore bis Sword Philippan.] We are not to fuppofe, nor is there any Warrant from Hiftory, that Antony had any particular Sword fo call'd. The dignifying Weapons, in this Sort, is a Cuftom of much more recent Date. This therefore seems a Compliment a pofteriori. We find Antony afterwards, in this Play, boafting of his own Prowefs at Philippi. Ant. Yes, my Lord, yes; be at Philippi kept His Sword e'en like a Dancer, while I ftrook That was the greatest Action of Antony's Life; and therefore this seems a fine Piece of Flattery, intimating, that his Sword ought to be denominated from that illuftrious Battle, in the same manner as modern Heroes in Romance are made to give their Swords pompous Names. Be Be free and healthful; why fo tart a favour Mef. Will't please you hear me? Cleo. I have a mind to ftrike thee, ere thou speak'it; Yet, if thou fay Antony lives, 'tis well, Or friends with Cafar, or not captive to him, I'll fet thee in a fhower of gold, and hail Mef. Madam, he's well. Cleo. Well faid. Mef. And friends with Cafar. Cleo. Thou'rt an honeft man. Mef. Cafar, and he, are greater friends than ever, Cleo. Make thee a fortune from me. Mef. But yet, Madam Cleo. I do not like but yet; it does allay The good precedence; fy upon but yet; But yet is as a jaylor to bring forth Some monftrous Malefactor. Pr'ythee, friend, Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear, The good and bad together: he's friends with Cafar, In ftate of health, thou fay'ft; and thou say'st, 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. Cleo. The most infectious peftilence upon thee! Mef. Madam, he's married to Octavia. 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 hales him up and down. Thou fhalt be whipt with wire, and stew'd in brine, Mej Mef. Gracious Madam, I, that do bring the news, made not the match. Mef. He's married, Madam. Cleo. Rogue, thou haft liv'd too long. Mef. Nay, then I'll run : [Draws a Dagger. What mean you, Madam? I have made no fault. [Exit. Char. Good Madam, keep yourself within yourself, The man is innocent. Cleo. Some innocents 'fcape not the thunderbolt- Though I am mad, I will not bite him; call. Cleo. I will not hurt him. Thefe hands do lack nobility, that they strike A meaner than myfelf: fince I myself Have given myself the cause. Come hither, Sir. Re-enter the Meffenger. Though it be honeft, it is never good To bring bad news: give to a gracious meffage 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! doft thou hold there still? Mef. Should I lye, Madam? Cleo. Oh, I would, thou didft; So half my Egypt were fubmerg'd, and made A ciftern A cistern for fcal'd fnakes! go, get thee hence, Thou wouldst appear moft ugly: he is married?. Cleo. He is married?. Mef. Take no offence, that I would not offend you; Cleo Oh, that his fault fhould make a knave of thee, That art not what thou'rt fure of!-Get thee hence, The merchandifes, thou hast brought from Rome, Are all too dear for me: Lie they upon thy hand, and be undone by 'em! [Exit Mcf. Char. Good your Highness, patience. Cleo. I am paid for it now: lead me from hence, The colour of her hair. Bring me word quickly,- SCENE changes to the Coast of Italy, near Enter Pompey and Menas, at one door, with drum and trumpet: At another, Cæfar, Lepidus, Antony, Enabarbus, Mecænas, Agrippa, with Soldiers marching. Pomp. And we shall talk before we fight. Caf. Moft meet, That first we come to words; and therefore have we VOL. VII. F Qur Our written purposes before us fent ; Pomp. To you all three,. The Senators alone of this great world, Caf. Take your time. Ant. 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 houfe. Remain in't, as thou may'st. 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 must Rid all the fea of Pirates; then to fend Meafures |