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Think, speak, cast, write, fing, number, ho!
His love to Antony. But as for Cæfar,
Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder.
Agr. Both he loves.
Eno. They are his shards, and he their beetle ; fom
This is to horse; adieu, noble Agrippa. [Trumpets.
Agr. Good fortune, worthy foldier, and farewel.
Enter Cæsar, Antony, Lepidus, and Octavia.
Ant. No farther, Sir.
Cæs. You take from me a great part of myself:
Use me well in't. Şister, prove such a wife
As my thoughts make thee, and my fartheft bond
Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony,
Let not the piece of virtue, which is set (17)
Betwixt us, as the cement of our love,
To keep it builded, be the Ram to batter
The Fortress of it: for better might we
Have lov'd without this mean, if on both parts
This be not cherisht.
Ant. Make me not offended
Cæs. I've said.
Ant. You shall not find,
Though you be therein curious, the least cause
For what you seem to fear; so the Gods keep you,
And make the hearts of Romans serve
(17) Let not the Piece of Virtue, which is set
Betwixt us, as the Cement of our Love,
To keep it builded, be the Ram to batter
The Fortune of it: -)
There is no Confonance of Metaphor preferv'd in the Close of this
Sentence ; Love is here presented under the Image of a Fabrick; and
Cement, builded, and the Ram to batter, have all an Agreement with
this Image : but what Analogy is there to this, in the Word For-
tune? Or what Idea can the Fortune of a Building furnish ? I cor-
rected some years ago, in Print, by Conjecture, Fortress : and, to my
Satisfaction, so soon as I was Master of the first Folio Edition, upon
, consulting it, I found, I had ftruck out the true Reading,
We will here part.
Cel. Farewel, my dearest fifter, fare thee well;
The elements be kind to thee, and make
Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well.
Oča. My noble brother!
Ant. The April's in her eyes : it is love's Spring,
And these the showers to bring it on; be chearful.
Okta. Sir, look well to my husband's house; and
Cæs. What, OEtavia?
Osta. I'll tell
Ant. Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can
Her heart inform her tongue; the swan's down-feather,
That stands upon the swell at full of tide,
And neither way inclines.
Eno. Will Cæfar weep? -
Agr. He has a cloud in's face.
Eno. He were the worse for that, were he a horse ; So is he, being a man.
Agr. Why, Enobarbus?
When Antony found Julius Cæfar dead,
He cried almost to roaring; and he wept,
When at Philippi he found Brutus Nain.
Eno. That year, indeed, he was troubled with a rheum;
What willingly he did confound, he waild;
Believe’t, 'till I wept too. (18)
Cæs. No, sweet Oktavia,
You shall hear from me ftill; the time shall not
Out-go my thinking on you.
(18) Believe't, till I weep too.] I have ventur'd to alter the Tense of the Verb here, against the Authority of all the Copies. There was no Sense in it, I think, as it stood before. Enobarbus would say, “ Indeed, Antony seem'd very free of his Tears that “ Year; and believe me, bewail'd all the Mischiefs he did, till as I myself wept too.” This appears to me very sarcastical. Antony's Tears, he would infer, were dissembled: but Enobarbus wept in real Compassion of the Havock and Slaughters committed on. his Countrymen..
Ant. Come, Sir, come,
I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love.
Look, here I have you ; thus I let you go,
And give you to the Gods.
Caf. Adieu, be happy!
Lep. Let all the number of the Stars give light
To thy fair way!
Cæf. Farewel, farewel!
(Kises Octavia. Ant. Farewel !
[Trumpets sound. Exeunt.
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.
Cleo. HERE is the fellow ?
Alex. Half afraid to come.
Cleo. Go to, go to; come hither, Sir.
Enter the Messenger as before.
Alex. Good Majefty !
Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you,
But when you are well pleas’d.
Cleo. That Herod's head
I'll have; but how? when Antony is gone,
Through whom I might command it :-Come thou near.
Mes. Moft gracious Majesty,
Cleo. Didst thou behold
Mej. Ay, dread Queen.
Mef. In Rome, Madam.
I look'd her in the face; and saw her led
Between her brother and Mark Antony.
Cleo. Is she as tall as me?
Mes. She is not, Madam.
Cleo. Didst hear her speak? is she shrill-tongu’d, or low?
Mef. Madam, I heard her speak, she is low-voic'd.
Cleo. That's not so good; he cannot like her long.
Char. Like her? oh Isis! 'tis impoflible.
Cleo. I think so, Charmian; dull of tongue and
What Majesty is in her gait? remember,
If e'er thou look’dst on Majesty.
Mes. She creeps;
Her motion and her station are as one :
She shews a body rather than a life,
A statue than a breather.
Cleo. Is this certain ?
Mef. Or I have no observance.
Char. Three in Ægypt
Cannot make better note.
Cleo. He's very knowing,
I do perceiv't; there's nothing in her yet.
The fellow has good judgment.
Cleo. Guess at her years, I prythee.
Mes. Madam, she was a widow.
Cleo. Widow ? Charmian, hark.
Mej. And I do think she's thirty.
Cléo. Bear'ít thou her face in mind ? it's longs or
Mes. Round even to faultiness.
Cleo. For th' most part too,
They're foolish that are so. Her hair, what colour
Mes. Brown, Madam ; and her forehead
As low as she would with it.
Cleo. There's gold for thee.
Thou must not take my former sharpness ill,
I will employ thee back again ; I find thee
Moft fit for business. Go, make thee ready
Our letters are prepard.
Char. A proper man.
Cleo. Indeed, he is so; I repent me much,
That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him,
This creature's no such thing.
Char. O, nothing, Madam.
Cleo. The man hath feen fome Majesty, and should
Char. Hath he seen Majesty ? Ifis else defend !
And serving you so long?
Cleo. I've one thing more to ask him yet, good
But 'tis no matter, thou shalt bring him to me
Where I will write : all may be well enough.
Char. I warrant you, Madam.
Of semblable import, but he hath wag'd
New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his Will and read it
To publick ear; spoke fcantily of me ;
When perforce he could not
But pay me terms of honour, cold and fickly
He vented them ; most narrow measure lent me;
When the best hint was giv'n him, he not took't, (19)
Or did it from his teeth.
Osta. Oh, my good Lord,
Believe not all ; or, if you must believe,
Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady,
If this division chance, ne'er stood between,
Praying for both parts: the good Gods will mock me,
When I shall pray,
“ oh, bless my Lord and husband !" Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud, " Oh, bless my
brother!" Husband win, win brother, Prays, and destroys the prayer ; no midway 'Twixt these extreams at all.
Ant. Gentle Octavia, Let
your best love draw to that point, which seeks Best to preserve it; if I lose mine honour, I lose myself; better I were not yours,
(19) When the best Hint was giv'n bim, be o'erlook'd,
Or did it from his Teeth] The first Folio reads, not look’d. Dr. Tbirlby advis'd the Emendation which I have inserted in the Texte