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; Cleo. O, never was there Queen Ant. Cleopatra, Cleo. Why fhould I think, you can be mine, and true, Though you with fwearing shake the throned Gods, Ant. Moft fweet Queen, Cleo. Nay, pray you, feek no colour for your going, Blifs in our Brows' bent, none our parts fo poor, 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 fhould'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 Equality of two domeftick Pow'rs Breeds fcrupulous faction; the hated, grown to ftrength, 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 Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me freedom, It does from childifhnefs. Can Fulvia die? Look here, and at thy fovereign leisure read Cleo. O moft falfe love! Where be the facred vials thou should't fill (4) My more particular, And that which most with you should fave my Going, 1s Fulvia's Death. Thus all the more modern Editions: the 1ft and 2d Folio's read, safe: All corruptedly. Antony is giving several reafons to Cleopatra, which make his Departure from Ægypt absolutely 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 should prevent, of fave him the Trouble of going. The Text, in this respect, I dare engage, runs counter to its Mafter's Meaning. Cleopatra is jealous of Antony's Abfence; and fufpicious that he is fecking Colours for his Going. Antony replies to her Doubts, with the Reasons 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 best 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 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 Cleo. So Fulvia told me. I pry'thee, turn afide, and weep for her; Ant. You'll heat my blood; no more. Cleo. You can do better yet; but this is meetly. Cleo. And target-Still he mends: But this is not the beft. Look, pry'thee, 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,) And I am all forgotten. Ant. But that your royalty Holds idleness your fubject, I fhould take you Cleo. 'Tis fweating labour, To bear fuch idleness fo near the heart; VOL. VII. E Be Be ftrew'd before your feet! Ant. Let us go: come, Our feparation fo abides and flies, That thou, refiding here, goeft yet with me, [Exeunt. SCENE changes to Cæfar's Palace in Rome. Enter Octavius Cæfar reading a letter, Lepidus, and attendants. Caf. You may fee, Lepidus, and henceforth know, It is not Cæfar's natural vice to hate Lep. I must not think, They're evils enough to darken all his goodness; Caf. You're too indulgent. Let us grant, it is not Amifs to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy, To give a kingdom for a mirth, to fit And keep the turn of tipling with a slave, To reel the streets at noon; and ftand the buffet With knaves that fmell of fweat; fay, this becomes him; (As his compofure muft be rare, indeed, Whom these things cannot blemish;) yet muft Antony That That drums him from his fport, and speaks as loud As we rate boys, who, being mature in knowledge, Enter a Meffenger. Lep. Here's more news. Mef. Thy biddings have been done; and every hour, Moft noble Cafar, thalt thou have report How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at Sea, And, it appears, he is belov'd of those That only have fear'd Cafar: to the ports The Difcontents repair, and mens' reports Give him much wrong'd. Caf. I fhould have known no lefs; It hath been taught us from the primal State, (5) Goes to, and back, lacquying the varying tide, (6) (5) It hath been taught us from the primal State, That He, which is, was wish'd until he were: And the ebb'd Man, ne'er lov'd till ne'er worth Love, Mef Let us examine the Sense of this in plain Profe. "The earliest "Hiftories inform us, that the Man in fupreme Command was always wish'd to gain that Command, till he had obtain❜d it. "And he, whom the multitude has contentedly feen in a low “Condition, when he begins to be wanted by them, becomes "to be fear'd by them". But do the Multitude fear a Man, because they want him? Certainly, we must read ; Comes dear'd, by being tack'd. i. c. endear'd, a Favourite to them. Befides, the Context requites this Reading; for it was not Fear, but Love, that made the People flock to Young Pompey, and that occafion'd this Reflection. Mr. Warburton. (6) Goes to, and back, lashing the varying Tide, To rot itfelf with Motion.] E & How |