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Dar.

Cli. O, Dardanius! Dar. O, Clitus!

I do such a deed?

Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
Dar. To kill him, Clitus: Look, he meditates.
Cli. Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
That it runs over even at his eyes.

Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius: list a word.
Vol. What says my lord?
Bru.

Why, this, Volumnius :
The ghost of Cæsar hath appear'd to me
Two several times by night: at Sardis, once;
And, this last night, here in Philippi' fields.
I know, my hour is come.
Vol.

Not so, my lord.
Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.
Thou see'st the world, Volumnius, how it goes;
Our enemies have beat us to the pit :
It is more worthy to leap in ourselves,
Than tarry till they push us.

Good Volumnius,

Thou know'st, that we two went to school together;
Even for that our love of old, I pray thee,
Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it.

Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord.
[Alarum still.
Cli. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.
Bru. Farewell to you;-and you;-and you,
Volumnius.-

Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
Farewell to thee too, Strato.-Countrymen,
My heart doth joy, that yet, in all my life,
I found no man, but he was true to me.
I shall have glory by this losing day,
More than Octavius, and Mark Antony,
By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
Hath almost ended his life's history:
Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,
That have but labour'd to attain this hour.
[Alarum. Cry within, Fly, fly, fly.

Cli. Fly, my lord, fly. Bru.

Hence; I will follow thee. [Exeunt Clitus, Dardanius, and Volumnius. I pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord: Thou art a fellow of a good respect; Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it: Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato? Stra. Give me your hand first: Fare you well, my lord.

(1) Receive into my service. (2) Recommend.

Bru. Farewell, good Strato.-Cæsar, now be still:

I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.

[He runs on his sword, and dies.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter Octavius, Antony, Messala, Lucilius, and their Army.

Oct. What man is that? Mes. My master's man.master?

n.-Strato, where is thy

Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala;
The conquerors can but make a fire of him;
For Brutus only overcame himself,

And no man else hath honour by his death.
Luc. So Brutus should be found.-I thank thee,
Brutus,

That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true.
Oct. All that serv'd Brutus, I will entertain! them.
Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
Stra. Ay, if Messala will prefer2 me to you.
Oct. Do so, Messala.

Mes.
How died my master, Strato?
Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it.
Mes. Octavius, then take him to follow thee,
That did the latest service to my master.

Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all: All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar; He, only, in a general honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle; and the elements So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up, And say to all the world, This was a man!

Oct. According to his virtue let us use him, With all respect and rites of burial. Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.So, call the field to rest: and let's away, To part the glories of this happy day. [Exeunt.

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NAY, but this dotage of our general's,
O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes,
That o'er the files and musters of the war

Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn,

The office and devotion of their view
Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart,
Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst
The buckles on his breast, reneges! all temper;
And is become the bellows, and the fan,
To cool a gipsy's lust. Look, where they come !
Flourish. Enter Antony and Cleopatra, with their
trains; Eunuchs fanning her.
Take but good note, and you shall see in him
The triple pillar of the world transform'd
Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see.

Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much.
Ant. There's beggary in the love that can be
reckon'd.

Cleo. I'll set a bourn2 how far to be belov'd. Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

Enter an Attendant.

If the scarce-bearded Cæsar have not sent
His powerful mandate to you, Do this, or this;
Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that;
Perform't, or else we damn thee.

Ant.
How, my love!
Cleo Perchance,―nay, and most like,
You must not stay here longer, your dismission
Is come from Cæsar; therefore hear it, Antony.-
Where's Fulvia's process?5 Cæsar's, I would say?----

Both?

Call in the messengers.-As I am Egypt's queen,
Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine
Is Cæsar's homager: else so thy cheek pays shame,
When shrill-tongu'd Fulvia scolds.-The messen.

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[Embracing,

And such a twain can do't, in which, I bind
On pain of punishment, the world to weet,
We stand up peerless.

Cleo.
Excellent falsehood!
Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?-
I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony
Will be himself.

Ant.
But stirr'd by Cleopatra.-
Now, for the love of Love, and her soft hours,
Let's not confound? the time with conference harsh :
There's not a minute of our lives should stretch
sum.-Without some pleasure now: What sport to-night?
Cleo. Hear the ambassadors.

Att. News, my good lord, from Rome.
Ant.
Grates me :-The
Cleo. Nay, hear them, Antony :
Fulvia, perchance, is angry; Or, who knows

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To weep; whose every passion fully strives
To make itself, in thee, fair and admir'd!
No messenger; but thine and all alone,
To-night, we'll wander through the streets, and note
The qualities of people. Come, my queen;
Last night you did desire it :-Speak not to us.

[Exeunt Ant. and Cleo. with their train.
Dem. Is Cæsar with Antonius priz'd so slight?
Phi. Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony,
He comes too short of that great property
Which still should go with Antony.
Dem.
I'm full sorry,
That he approves the common liar, who
Thus speaks of him at Rome: But I will hope
Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy!

Char. Even as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine.

Iras. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay.

Char. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear.-Pr'ythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune.

Sooth. Your fortunes are alike.

Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars.
Sooth. I have said.

Iras. Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it?

Iras. Not in my husband's nose.

Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend! A[Exeunt.lexas,-come, his fortune, his fortune.-O, let him seech thee! And let her die too, and give him a marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beworse! and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good Isis,3 hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee!

SCENE II-The same. Another room. Enter Charmian, Iras, Alexas, and a Soothsayer. Char. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew this husband, which, you say, must change his horns with garlands!

Alex. Soothsayer.
Sooth. Your will?

Char. Is this the man?--Is't you, sir, that know things?

Sooth. In nature's infinite book of secrecy, A little I can read.

Alex.

Show him your hand.

Enter Enobarbus.

Eno. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough,
Cleopatra's health to drink.

Char. Good sir, give me good fortune.
Sooth. I make not, but foresee.
Char. Pray then, foresee me one.

Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer than you are.
Char. He means, in flesh.

Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old.
Char. Wrinkles forbid !

Alex. Vex not his prescience; be attentive.
Char. Hush!

Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than beloved.
Char. I had rather heat my liver with drinking.
Alex. Nay, hear him.

Char. Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all: let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius Cæsar, and companion me with my mistress.

Sooth. You shall outlive the lady whom you serve.
Char. O excellent! I love long life better than figs.
Sooth. You have seen and proved a fairer former
fortune

Than that which is to approach.

Char. Then, belike, my children shall have no names:2 Pr'ythee, how many boys and wenches must I have?

Sooth. If every of your wishes had a womb, And fertile every wish, a million.

Char. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. Alex. You think, none but your sheets are privy to your wishes.

Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers.

Alex. We'll know all our fortunes.

Eno. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be-drunk to bed.

Iras. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else.

(1) Fame. (2) Shall be bastards.

Iras. Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! for, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded; Therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly!

Char. Amen.

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A Roman thought hath struck him.-Enobarbus,-
Eno. Madam.

Cleo. Seek him, and bring him hither. Where's
Alexas?

Alex. Here, madam, at your service.-My lord
approaches.

Enter Antony, with a Messenger and Attendants,
Cleo. We will not look upon him: Go with us.
[Exeunt Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Alexas, Iras,
Charmian, Soothsayer, and Attendants.
Mess. Fulvia thy wife first came into the field.
Ant. Against my brother Lucius?

Mess. Ay:

But soon that war had end, and the time's state
Made friends of them, joining their force 'gainst
Cæsar;

Whose better issue in the war, from Italy,
Upon the first encounter, drave them.
Ant.
What worst?

Well,

Mess. The nature of bad news infects the teller.
Ant. When it concerns the fool, or coward.-On:
Things, that are past, are done, with me.-'Tis thus,
Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death,
I hear him as he flatter'd.

Mess.
Labienus
(This is stiff news) hath, with his Parthian force,
Extended4 Asia from Euphrates;

(3) An Egyptian goddess.

(4) Seized

His conquering banner shook, from Syria
To Lydia, and to Ionia;

Whilst

Ant.

Mess.

Antony, thou would'st say,

O, my lord Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue;

Name Cleopatra as she's call'd in Rome :
Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults
With such full license, as both truth and malice
Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds,
When our
quick winds lie stil!; and our ills told us,
Is as our earing 2 Fare thee well a while.
Mess. At your noble pleasure.
[Exit.
Ant. From Sicyon how the news? Speak there.
1 Att. The man from Sicyon.-Is there such a
one?

2 Att. He stays upon your will.
Ant.
Let him appear.-
These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,

Enter another Messenger.

Or lose myself in dotage.-What are you?
2 Mess. Fulvia thy wife is dead.
Ant.

Where died she?

2 Mess. In Sicyon:
Her length of sickness, with what else more serious
Importeth thee to know, this bears. [Gives a letter.
Ant.

Eno. Fulvia?
Ant. Dead.

Eno. Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth; comforting 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 case to be lamented: this grief is crowned with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new petticoat :—and, indeed, the tears live in an onion, that should water this

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Ant. The business she hath broached in the state, Cannot endure my absence.

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

Ant. No more light answers. Let our officers Have notice what we purpose. I shall break The cause of our expedience to the queen, And get her loves to part. For not alone The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too Of many our contriving friends in Rome Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius Hath given the dare to Cæsar, and commands The empire of the sea: our slippery people Forbear me.-(Whose love is never link'd to the deserver, [Exit Messenger. Till his deserts are past,) begin to throw There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it: Pompey the great, and all his dignities, What our contempts do often hurl from us, Upon his son who, high in name and power, We wish it ours again; the present pleasure, Higher than both in blood and life, stands up By revolution lowering, does become For the main soldier: whose quality, going on, The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; The sides o'the world may danger: Much is breedThe hand could pluck her back, that shov'd her on. ing, I must from this enchanting queen break off; Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know, My idleness doth hatch.-How now! Enobarbus! Enter Enobarbus.

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Eno. Under a compelling occasion, let women die: It were pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment: I do think, there is mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such a celerity in dying.

Ant. She is cunning past man's thought.

Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life,
And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure,
To such whose place is under us, requires
Our quick remove from hence.

Eno. I shall do't.

[Exeunt.

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I did not send you ;7-If you find him sad,
Say, I am dancing; if in mirth, report
That I am sudden sick: Quick, and return.

[Exit Alex. Char. Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly,

You do not hold the method to enforce
The like from him.
Cleo.
What should I do, I do not?
Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in
nothing.

Cleo. Thou teachest like a fool: the way to lose

him.

Eno. Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love: We cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove. Ant. 'Would I had never seen her ! Eno. O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of work; which not to have been bless-But here comes Antony.

ed withal, would have discredited your travel.

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

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Char. Tempt him not so too far: I wish, forbear; In time we hate that which we often fear.

Cleo.

Enter Antony. •

I am sick, and sullen. Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my pur

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It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature
Will not sustain it.
Ant.
Now, my dearest queen,-
Cleo. Pray you, stand further from me.
Ant.
What's the matter?
Cleo, I know, by that same eye, there's some
good news.

What says the married 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 power upon you; hers you are.
Ant. The gods best know,-
Cleo.

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Cut my lace, Charmian, come ;But let it be.-I am quickly ill, and well: So Antony loves. Ant.

My precious queen, forbear; And give true evidence to his love, which standa An honourable trial. Cleo.

So Fulvia told me.

I pr'ythee, turn aside, and weep for her;
Then bid adieu to me, and say, the tears
Belong to Egypt:8 Good now, play one scene

O, neyer was there queen Of excellent dissembling; and let it look

So mightily betray'd! Yet, at the first, I saw the treasons planted.

Ant.

Cleopatra,

Cleo. Why should I think, you can be mine, and true,

Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, Which break themselves in swearing!

Ant.
Most sweet queen,-
Cleo. Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going,
But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying,
Then was the time for words: No going then;-
Eternity was in our lips, and eyes;

Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor,
But was a race2 of heaven: They are so still,
Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,
Art turn'd the greatest liar.

Ant.

How now, lady!

Cleo. I would, I had thy inches; thou should'st know,

There were a heart in Egypt.

Ant.
Hear me, queen:
The strong necessity of time commands
Our services a while; but my full heart
Remains in use with you. Our Italy

Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius
Makes his approaches to the port3 of Rome:
Equality of two domestic powers
Breeds scrupulous faction: The hated, grown to
strength,

Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey,
Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace
Into the hearts of such as have not thriv'd
Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;
And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge
By any desperate change: My more particular,
And that which most with you should safe
going,

Is Fulvia's death.

Cleo. Though age from folly could not give freedom,

It does from childishness:-Can Fulvia die ?5 Ant. She's dead, my queen:

iny

me

Look here, and, at thy sovereign leisure, read
The garboils she awak'd:6 at the last, best:
See, when, and where she died.
Cleo.
O most false love!
Where be the sacred vials thou should'st fill
With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,
In Fulvia's death, how mine receiv'd shall be.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know
The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,
As
you shall give the advice: Now, by the fire
That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence,

(1) The arch of our eye-brows.
(3) Gate.

(2) Smack or flavour.

(4) Render my going not dangerous.

(5) Can Fulvia be dead?

(6) The commotion she occasioned.

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 sword,-
Cleo.

And target,-Still he mends;
But this is not the best: Look, pr'ythee, Charmian,
How this Herculean Roman does become
The carriage of his chafe.9

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: Something it is I would,O, my oblivion10 is a very Antony, And I am all forgotten.

Ant. But that your royalty Holds idleness your subject, I should take you For idleness itself.

Cleo.

To bear such idleness so near the heart
'Tis sweating labour,
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 ;
That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me,
Our separation so abides, and flies,
Away.
And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Rome. An apartment in Cæsar's house. Enter Octavius Cæsar, Lepidus, and Attendants.

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

One great competitor: From Alexandria
The lamps of night in revel: is not more manlike
This is the news; He fishes, drinks, and wastes
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;12 what he cannot change,
Than what he chooses.

Cæs. You are too indulgent: Let us grant, it
is not

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