thing but the finest part of pure love. We cannot call her winds and waters, fighs and tears: they are greater ftorms and tempefts than almanacks can report. This cannot be cunning in her if it be, fhe makes a show'r of rain as well as Jove.

Ant. 'Would I had never seen her!

Eno. Oh, Sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of work, which, not to have been bleft withal, would have difcredited your travel.

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

Eno. Sir!

Ant. Fulvia is dead.
Eno. Fulvia?

Ant. Dead.

Eno. Why, Sir, give the Gods a thankful facrifice: when it pleaseth their Deities to take the wife of a man from him, it fhews to man the tailor of the earth: com. forting 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 cafe were to be lamented: this grief is crowned with confolation; your old fmock brings forth a new petticoat, and, indeed, the tears live in an onion that fhould water this forrow.

Ant. The bufiness, fhe hath broached in the state, Cannot endure my abfence.

Eno. And the business, you have broach'd here, cannot be without you; efpecially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode.

Ant. No more light anfwers: let our officers
Have notice what we purpose. I fhall break
The cause of our expedience to the Queen,
And get her leave to part. For not alone
The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches,
Do ftrongly fpeak t'us; but the letters too
Of many our contriving friends in Rome
Petition us at home. Sextus Pompeius
Hath giv'n the dare to Cæfar, and commands
The Empire of the Sea. Our flipp'ry people,
(Whofe love is never link'd to the deferver,

'Till his deferts are paft,) begin to throw
Pompey the Great and all his Dignities
Upon his fon; who high in name and pow'r,
Higher than both in blood and life, ftands up
For the main Soldier; whofe quality going on,
The fides o'th' world may danger. Much is breeding;
Which, like the courfer's hair, hath yet but life,
And not a ferpent's poifon. Say, our pleasure,
To fuch whofe place is under us, requires
Our quick remove from hence.

Eno. I'll do't.

[Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Iras.

Cleo. Where is he?

Char. I did not fee him fince.

Cleo. See, where he is, who's with him, what he does.

I did not fend you :- -If you find him fad,
Say, I am dancing: if in mirth, report,
That I am fudden fick. Quick, and return.

Char. Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, You do not hold the method to enforce

The like from him.

Cleo. What fhould I do, I do not?

Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in nothing.

Cleo. Thou teacheft, like a fool: the way to lose him. Char. Tempt him not fo, too far. I wish, forbear; In time we hate that, which we often fear.

Enter Antony.

But here comes Antony.

Cleo. I'm fick, and fullen.

Ant. I am forry to give breathing to my purpose.
Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian, I fhall fall;

It cannot be thus long, the fides of nature
Will not fuftain it.

[Seeming to faint.

Ant.

Ant. Now, my dearest Queen,

Cleo. Pray you, ftand farther from me.

Ant. What's the matter?

Cleo. I know, by that fame eye, there's fome good

news.

What fays the marry'd woman? you may go;
'Would, she had never given you leave to come!
Let her not say, 'tis I that keep you here,

I have no pow'r upon you: hers you are.
Ant. The Gods best know,

Cleo. O, never was there Queen
So mightily betray'd; yet at the first
I saw the treafons planted.

Ant. Cleopatra, —

Cleo. Why should I think, you can be mine, and true, Though you with fwearing fhake the throned Gods, Who have been falfe to Fulvia? riotous madness To be entangled with thefe mouth-made vows, Which break themselves in fwearing!

Ant. Moft fweet Queen,

Cleo. Nay, pray you, feek no colour for your going,
But bid farwel, and go: when you fued ftaying,
Then was the time for words; no going, then;
Eternity was in our lips and eyes,

Blifs in our Brows' bent, none our parts fo poor,
But was a race of heav'n. They are fo flill,

Or thou, the greatest foldier of the world,

Art turn'd the greatest liar.

Ant. How, now, lady?

Cleo. I would I had thy inches, thou should't know, There were a heart in Egypt.

Ant. Hear me, Queen;

The ftrong neceffity of time commands

Our fervices a-while; but my full heart

Remains in Ufe with you. Our Italy

Shines o'er with civil fwords; Sextus Pompeius
Makes his approaches to the port of Rome.

Equality of two domeftick Pow'rs

Breeds fcrupulous faction; the hated, grown to ftrength,

Are

Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey,
Rich in his father's Honour, creeps apace
Into the hearts of fuch as have not thriv'n

Upon the prefent ftate, whofe numbers threaten;
And quietnefs, grown fick of reft, would purge
By any defperate change. My more particular, (4)
And that which most with you should falve my going,
Is Fulvia's death.

Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me free

dom,

It does from childifhnefs.

Can Fulvia die?

Ant. She's dead, my Queen.

Look here, and at thy fovereign leisure read
The garboyls fhe awak'd; at the laft, beft.
See, when, and where fhe died..

Cleo. O moft falfe love!

Where be the facred vials thou fhouldft fill
With forrowful water? now I fee, I fee,
In Fulvia's death, how mine fhall be receiv'd.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know
The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,
As you fhall give th' advices. By the fire,

(4)

My more particular,

And that which most with you should fave

Is Fulvia's Death.

my Going,

Thus all the more modern Editions: the first and fecond Folio's read, fafe: All corruptedly. Antony is giving feveral reasons to Cleopatra, which make his Departure from Egypt abfolutely neceffary; most of them, reafons of State; but the Death of Fulvia, his Wife, was a particular and private Call, which demanded his Prefence in Italy. But the printed Copies would rather make us believe, that Fulvia's Death fhould prevent, or fave him the Trouble of going. The Text, in this refpect, I dare engage, runs counter to its Mafter's Meaning. Cleopatra is jealous of Antony's Absence; and fufpicious that he is feeking Colours for his Going. Antony replies to her Doubts, with the Reafons that obliged him to be abfent for a Time; and tells her, that, as his Wife Fulvia is dead, and fo fhe has no Rival to be jealous of, that Circumftance fhould be his beft Plea and Excufe, and have the greatest Weight with her for his Going. Who does not fee now, that it ought to be read as I have reform'd the Text?

That

That quickens Nilus' flime, I go from hence
Thy foldier, fervant, making peace or war,
As thou affect'st.

Cleo. Cut my lace, Charmian, come;
But let it be, I'm 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 afide, and weep for her;
Then bid adieu to me and fay, the tears
Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one Scene.
Of excellent diffembling, and let it look
Like perfect honour.

Ant. You'll heat my blood; no more.

Cleo. You can do better yet; but this is meetly.
Ant. Now by iny fword-

Cleo. And target-Still he mends:

But this is not the beft. Look, pr'ythee, Charmian,
How this Herculean Roman does become

The carriage of his chafe.

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;) fomething it is, I would:
Oh, my oblivion is a very Antony,

And I am all forgotten.

Ant. But that your royalty

Holds idleness your fubject, I fhould take you
For idleness itself.

Cleo. 'Tis fweating labour,

To bear fuch idlenefs fo 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 ! On your fword
Sit lawrell'd victory, and smooth fuccefs
VOL. VII.

E

Be