Not being fortune, he's but fortune's knave,
A minifter of her Will, and it is great

To do that thing, that ends all other deeds;
Which fhackles accidents, and bolts up change;
Which fleeps, and never palates more the dugg:-(59)
The beggar's nurse, and Cæfar's.

Enter Proculeius.

Pro. Cæfar fends Greeting to the Queen of Egypt, And bids thee study on what fair demands

Thou mean'ft to have him grant thee.

Cleo. What's thy name?

Pro. My name is Proculeius.

Cleo. Antony

Did tell me of you, bad me truft you, but
I do not greatly care to be deceiv'd,

That have no use for trufting. If your mafter
Would have a Queen his beggar, you must tell him,

That Majefty, to keep decorum, must

No lefs beg than a Kingdom; if he please

(59) Which fleeps, and never palates more the Dung,

The Beggar's Nurfe, and Cæfar's.]

Our Poet has made Antony fay, at the Beginning of this Tragedy, that the dungy Earth alike

Feeds Beaft, as Man:

but how are we to understand here, palating the Dung? The Text is certainly corrupt, and must be flightly help'd; and tho' then we can't make it ftrictly grammatical, we fhall come at the Poet's detach'd and separate Allufions. I read,

Which fleeps and never palates more the Dug:

I'll explain the whole of Cleopatra's Reflections, as they lie, by a short Paraphrafe. ""Tis Great in us to do that Action, (i. e. give our "felves Death,) which puts an End to all other Actions; and which "prevents and difappoints Accidents and Change of Fortune. While in Life, like flumbering Children, we palate and tamper for the Dug; but in the fleep of Death, we hone no more after tranfitory Enjoyments. Death rocks us all into a faft and unbroken fleep; and is equally a Nurfe to the Beggar, in this refpect, as it is to Cafar". The Close of this Reflection is juft what Horace has exprefs'd by a different Image.

66

66

66

Pallida Mors æquo pulfat pede pauperum tabernas,
Regumque turres.

Lib. I. Ode. 4.

Mr. Warburton.

To

་

To give me conquer'd Egypt for my Son,
He gives me fo much of mine own, as I
Will kneel to him with thanks.

Pro. Be of good cheer:

You're faln into a princely hand, fear nothing;
Make your full ref'rence freely to my lord,
Who is fo full of grace, that it flows over
On all that need. Let me report to him
Your fweet dependency, and you fhall find
A Conqu❜ror that will pray in aid for kindness,
Where he for grace is kneel'd to.

Cleo. Pray you, tell him,

I am his fortune's vaffal, and I fend him
The Greatness he has got. I hourly learn
A doctrine of obedience, and would gladly
Look him i'th' face.

Pro. This I'll report, dear lady.

Have comfort, for, I know, your plight is pity'd
Of him that caus'd it.

[Here Gallus, and Guard, afcend the Monument by a
Ladder, and enter at a back-Window.

Gall. You fee, how eafily fhe may be furpriz'd. (60)
Pro. Guard her, 'till Cæfar come.

Iras. O Royal Queen!

Char. Oh Cleopatra ! thou art taken, Queen.

Cleo. Quick, quick, good hands.

[Drawing a Dagger.

[The Monument is open'd; Proculeius rushes in, and difarms the Queen.

(60) Char. You fee, how easily she may be furpriz'd,] Here Charmian, who is fo faithful as to die with her Mistress, by the ftupidity of the Editors is made to countenance and give Directions for her being furpriz'd by Cafar's Meffengers. But this Blunder is for want of knowing, or obferving, the historical Fact. When Cæfar fent Proculeius to the Queen, he fent Gallus after him with new Inftructions and while one amufed Cleopatra with Propofitions from Cæfar, thro' Crannies of the Monument; the other fcaled it by a Ladder, enter'd at a Window backward, and made Cleopatra, and those with her, Prifoners. I have reform'd the. Paffage therefore, (as, I am perfwaded, the Author defign'd it) from the Authority of Plutarch.

:

VOL. VI.

Y

Pro.

Pro. Hold, worthy lady, hold:

Do not your felf fuch wrong, who are in this
Reliev'd, but not betray'd.

Cleo. What, of death too, that rids our dogs of languifh?

Pro. Do not abuse my master's bounty, by Th' undoing of your felf: let the world fee His Nobleness well acted, which your death Will never let come forth.

Cleo. Where art thou, Death?

Come hither, come: oh come, and take a Queen
Worth many babes and beggars.

Pro. Oh temperance, lady!

Cleo. Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, Sir:
If idle talk will once be neceffary,

I'll not fleep neither. This mortal houfe I'll ruin,
Do Cæfar what he can, Know, Sir, that I
Will not wait pinion'd at your master's Court,
Nor once be chaftis'd with the fober eye
Of dull Octavia, Shall they hoist me up,
And fhew me to the fhouting varlotry
Of cens'ring Rome? rather a ditch in Ægypt
Be gentle Grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me ftark nak'd, and let the water-flies
Blow me into abhorring! rather make

My Country's high Pyramides my gibbet,
And hang me up in chains!

Pro. You do extend

These thoughts of horror further than

Find cause in Cæfar.

Dol. Proculeius,

Enter Dolabella.

What thou haft done thy mafter Cæfar knows,
And he hath fent for thee: as for the Queen,
I'll take her to my guard.

Pro. So, Dolabella,

It fhall content me beft; be gentle to her;
To Cæfar I will fpeak what you shall please,
If you'll employ me to him.

Cleo.

Clea. Say, I would die.

[Exit Proculeius.

Dol. Moft noble Empress, you have heard of me.
Cleo. I cannot tell.

Dol. Affuredly, you know me.

Cleo. No matter, Sir, what I have heard or known: You laugh, when boys or women tell their dreams; Is't not your trick?

Dol. I understand not, Madam.

Cleo. I dreamt, there was an Emp'ror Antony z Oh fuch another fleep, that I might fee

But fuch another man!

Dok. If it might pleafe ye

Cleo. His face was as the heav'ns; and therein stuck A Sun and Moon, which kept their course, and lighted (61)

The little O o'th' Earth.

Dol. Moft fovereign creature!

Cleo. His legs beftrid the ocean, his rear'd arm
Crefted the world: his voice was propertied
As all the tuned Spheres, when that to friends:
But when he meant to quail, and shake the Orb,

(61) A Sun and Moon which kept their Course, and lighted
The little o' th' Earth.
Dol.

Moft fou'reign Creature!] What a bleffed limping Verfe these two Hemiftichs give us! Had none of the Editors an Ear to find the Hitch in its Pace? 'Tis true, there is but a Syllable wanting, and that, I believe verily, was but of a fingle Letter; which the firft Editors not understanding, learnedly threw it out as a Redundance. I restore,

The little oth' Earth.

i. e. the little Orb or Circle. And, 'tis plain, our Poet in other Paffages chufes to exprefs himfelf thus,

Rof. O, that your Face were not so full of O'es.

i. e. of round Dimples, Pitts with the fmall Pox.
Can this Cockpit hold

The vafty Field of France? or can we cram,
Within this wooden O, the very Cafques,
That did affright the Air, at Agincourt?

Fair Helena, who more engilds the Night
Than all yon fiery O's and Eyes of Light.

i.. the Circles, Orbs, of the Stars.

Love's Lab. loft.

Prol. ta Henry V.

Midfummer Night's Dream.

He was as ratling thunder. For his bounty, (62)
There was no winter in't: An Autumn 'twas,
That grew the more by reaping. His delights
Were dolphin-like, they fhew'd his back above
The element they liv'd in; in his livery

Walk'd Crowns and Coronets, realms and islands were
As plates dropt from his pocket.

Dol. Cleopatra

Cleo. Think you, there was, or might be, fuch a man As this I dreamt of?

Dol. Gentle Madam, no.

Cleo. You lie, up to the hearing of the Gods; But if there be, or ever were one fuch,

It's past the size of dreaming: Nature wants stuff (63)

To

(62)

--

For his Bounty,

There was no Winter in't: an Antony it was,
That grew the more by reaping.]

There was certainly a Contraft, both in the Thought and Terms, defign'd here, which is loft in an accidental Corruption. How could an Antony grow the more by reaping? I'll venture, by a very easy Change, to restore an exquifite fine Allufion and which carries its Reason with it too, why there was no Winter (i. e. no Want, Barenefs,) in his Bounty.

For his Bounty,

There was no Winter in't: an Autumn 'twas,

That grew

the more by reaping.

I ought to take Notice, that the ingenious Dr. Thirlby likewife ftarted this very Emendation, and had mark'd it in the Margin of his Book. The Reafon of the Depravation might eafily arife from the great Similitude of the two Words in the old way of spelling, Antonie and Automne. Our Author has employ'd this Thought again in a Poem, cal'd, True Admiration.

Speak of the Spring and Foyzen of the Year,
The One doth fhadow of your Beauty shew;
The other as your Bounty doth appear;

And you in evry bleed shape we know.

For 'tis plain, that Foyzen means Autumn here, which pours out its Profufion of Fruits bountifully; in Oppofition to Spring, which only fhews the youthful Beauty, and Promise of that future Bounty.

(63)

Nature wants fiuff

To vye frange Forms with Fancy; yet t'imagine
An Antony were Nature's piece, 'gainst Fancy,
Condemning Shadows quite]

This is a fine Sentiment, but unintelligible in the prefent falfe Reading and Pointing: and, even when fet right in thefe Particulars, is ftill

obfcure