'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 is he, 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.

But here comes Antony.

Enter Antony.

Cleo. I'm fick, and fullen.

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

It cannot be thus long, the fides of nature

Will not fuftain it.

[Seeming to faint.

Ant. Now, my dearest Queen,-
Cleo. Pray you, stand farther from me.

Ant.

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, fhe 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 beft know,

Cleo. O, never was there Queen

So mightily betray'd; yet at the first
I faw the treafons planted.

Ant. Cleopatra,

Cleo. Why fhould I think, you can be mine, and

true,

Though you with fwearing shake the throned Gods,
Who have been falfe to Fulvia ? riotous madness
To be entangled with these mouth-made vows,
Which break themselves in fwearing!

Ant. Molt fweet Queen,

Cleo. Nay, pray you, feek no colour for your going, But bid farewel, and go: when you fued staying, 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 so still,

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

Into

Into the hearts of fuch as have not thriv'n
Upon the prefent ftate, whofe numbers threaten ;
And quietness, 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 freedon,

It does from childishness. 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 should'ft 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 ceafe,

As you fhall give th' advices. By the fire,

(4)

And that which most

Is Fulvia's Death.]

-My more particular,
with you should fave my Going,

Thus all the more modern Editions: the 1ft and 2d Folio's read, Safe: All corruptedly. Antony is giving several reasons to Cleopatra, which makes his Departure from Egypt absolutely neceffary; most of them, reasons 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 respect, I dare engage, runs counter to its Master's Meaning. Cleopatra is jealous of Antony's Abfence; and fufpicious that he is feeking 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
Thy foldier, fervant, making peace or war,
As thou affect'ft.

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 ftands
An honourable trial.

Cleo. So Fulvia told me.

I pry'thee, 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 my fword-

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,)
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
Sit lawrell'd victory, and smooth success
VOL. VII.

E

fword

Be

Be ftrew'd before your feet!

Ant. Let us go: come,

Our feparation to abides and flies,

That thou, refiding here, goeft yet with me,
And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.
Away.

[Exeunt. SCENE changes to Cæfar's Palace in Rome.

Enter Octavius Cæfar reading a letter, Lepidus, and

Caf.

Y

attendants,

OU may fee, Lepidus, and henceforth know, It is not Cæfar's natural vice to hate One great competitor. From Alexandria This is the news; he fishes, drinks, and waftes The lamps of night in revel; is not more manly Than Cleopatra; nor the Queen of Ptolemy More womanly than he. Hardly gave audience, Or did vouchsafe to think that he had partners. You fhall there find a man, who is the abftract Of all faults all men follow.

Lep. I must not think,

They're evils enough to darken all his goodness;
His faults in him feem (as the fpots of heav'n,
More fiery by night's blacknefs ;) hereditary,
Rather than purchaft; what he cannot change,

Than what he chufes.

Caf. You're too indulgent. Let us grant, it is net 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 flave,

To reel the streets at noon; and ftand the buffet

With knaves that smell of sweat; say, this becomes him

(As his compofure must be rare, indeed,

Whom these things cannot blemish;) yet muft Antony
No way excufe his foils, when we do bear
So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd
His vacancy with his voluptuoufnefs;TM
Full furfeits, and the drinefs of his bones,
Call on him for't. But to confound such time,

That