And target,

But this is not the best: Look, pr'y thee, Charmian, How this Herculean Roman does become

The carriage of his chafe3.

Ant.

Cleo. Courteous lord,

Sir, you and I must part,

Sir, you and I have lov'd,

I'll leave you, lady.

one word.

That you know well: Something it is I would, — O, my oblivion is a very Antony,

And I am all forgotten.

Ant.

But that your royalty

Holds idleness your subject, I should take
For idleness itself.

Cleo.

'Tis sweating labour,

To bear such idleness so near the heart

you

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! upon your sword
Sit laurel'd victory! and smooth success
Be strew'd before your feet!

Ant.

Let us go.

Come ;

Our separation so abides, and flies,
That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me,
And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.
Away.

[Exeunt.

3 Rage,

+ Oblivious memory.

SCENE IV.

Rome. An Apartment in Cæsar's House.

Enter OCTAVIUS CESAR, LEPIDUS, and Attend

ants.

Cæs. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know It is not Cæsar's natural vice to hate

One great competitor: From Alexandria

This is the news; He fishes, drinks, and wastes The lamps of night in revel: is not more manlike Than Cleopatra; nor the queen Ptolemy

More womanly than he hardly gave audience, or Vouchsaf'd to think he had partners: You shall find there

A man, who is the abstract of all faults
That all men follow.

Lep.
I must not think, there are
Evils enough to darken all his goodness;
His faults, in him, seem as the spots of heaven,
More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary,

Rather than purchas'd; what he cannot change, Than what he chooses.

Cæs. You are too indulgent: Let us grant, it is

not

Amiss to press the bed of Ptolemy;

To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit

And keep the turn of tippling with a slave;
To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet
With knaves unworthy: say, this becomes him,
(As his composure must be rare indeed,

Whom these things cannot blemish,) yet must
Antony

No way excuse his soils, when we do bear
So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd

5 Procured by his own fault.

His vacancy with his voluptuousness,

Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones,

6

Call on him for 't: but, to confound' such time, That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud As his own state, and ours, 'tis to be chid

As we rate boys; who, being mature in knowledge, Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, And so rebel to judgment.

Lep.

Enter a Messenger.

Here's more news.

Mess. Thy biddings have been done; and every

hour,

Most noble Cæsar, shalt 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 Cæsar: to the ports
The discontents' repair, and men's reports
Give him much wrong'd.

Cæs.
I should have known no less :
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,

3

Comes dear'd, by being lack'd. This common body,
Like a vagabond flag upon the stream,

Goes to, and back, lackeying the varying tide,
To rot itself with motion.

Mess.

Cæsar, I bring thee word,

Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,

Make the sea serve them; which they ear and wound

With keels of every kind: Many hot inroads
They make in Italy; the borders maritime
Lack blood+ to think on 't, and flush youth revolt:
No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon

I Consume.

" Visit him.
3 Endeared by being missed.

a Discontented.

4 Turn pale.

Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more, Than could his war resisted.

Antony,

Cæs. Leave thy lascivious wassals. When thou once Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against Though daintily brought up, with patience more Than savages could suffer: Thou didst drink What beasts would cough at: thy palate then did deign

The roughest berry on the rudest hedge;

Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets,
The barks of trees thou browsed'st; on the Alps
It is reported, thou didst eat strange flesh,
Which some did die to look on: And all this
(It wounds thine honour, that I speak it now,)
Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek
So much as lank'd not.

Lep.

It is pity of him. Cas. Let his shames quickly

Drive him to Rome: 'Tis time we twain

Did show ourselves i' the field; and, to that end, Assemble we immediate council: Pompey

Thrives in our idleness.

Lep.

To-morrow, Cæsar,

I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly
Both what by sea and land I can be able,
To 'front this present time.

Cæs.

Till which encounter,

It is my business too. Farewell.

Lep. Farewell, my lord: What you shall know

mean time

Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,

To let me be partaker.

Cæs.

I knew it for my bond."

Doubt not, sir;

[Exeunt.

5 Feastings, in the old copy it is vaissailes, i. e. vassals.

My bounden duty.

SCENE V.

Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and
MARDIAN.

Why, madam?

Cleo. That I might sleep out this great gap of

Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits

he?

Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?

Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou mov'st?

The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm

8

And burgonet of men. He 's speaking now,
Or murmuring, Where's my serpent of old Nile?
For so he calls me; Now I feed myself
With most delicious poison:

Think on me,

'That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black,
And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Cæsar,
When thou wast here above the ground, I was
A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey
Would stand, and make his eyes grow in my brow;
There would he anchor his aspéct, and die
With looking on his life.

7 A sleepy potion.

8 A helmet.