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

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

Antony,

Cæs.
Leave thy lascivious wassails. 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
The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle

Which 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.

'Tis pity of him.

Caes. 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 meantime Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,

To let me be partaker.

Cæs.

I knew it for my bond.

Doubt not, sir;

SCENE V.-ALEXANDRIA.

[Exeunt.

A Room in the Palace.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN.

Cleo. Charmian,—

Char. Madam?

Why, madam?

Cleo. That I might sleep out this great gap of time

My Antony is away.

Char.

You think of him too much.

Cleo. O, 'tis treason!
Char.

Madam, I trust, not so.

Cleo. Thou, eunuch Mardian!

Mar.

What's your highness' pleasure?

Cleo. Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure

In aught an eunuch has: 'tis well for thee

That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts

May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?
Mar. Yes, gracious madam.

Cleo. Indeed!

Mar. Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing

But what indeed is honest to be done:

Yet have I fierce affections, and think

What Venus did with Mars.

Cleo.

O Charmian,

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

he?

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

O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!

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

The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm

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 aspect, and die
With looking on his life.

Alex.

Enter ALEXAS.

Sovereign of Egypt, hail!

Cleo. How much unlike art thou Mark Antony! Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath

With his tinct gilded thee.

How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?

Alex. Last thing he did, dear queen,

He kiss'd, the last of many doubled kisses,
This orient pearl:-his speech sticks in my heart.
Cleo. Mine ear must pluck it thence.

Good friend, quoth he,

Alex.
Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends
This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot,
To mend the petty present, I will piece

Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the east,
Say thou, shall call her mistress. So he nodded,
And soberly did mount an arm-girt steed,

Who neigh'd so high that what I would have spoke
Was beastly dumb'd by him.

Cleo.

What, was he sad or merry? Alex. Like to the time o' the year between the extremes Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry.

Cleo. O well-divided disposition!-Note him,

Note him, good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him:
He was not sad,-for he would shine on those
That make their looks by his; he was not merry,—
Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay
In Egypt with his joy; but between both:

O heavenly mingle!-Be'st thou sad or merry,
The violence of either thee becomes,

So does it no man else.-Mett'st thou my posts?
Alex. Ay, madam, twenty several messengers:
Why do you send so thick?

Who's born that day

Cleo.
When I forget to send to Antony
Shall die a beggar.-Ink and

Welcome, my good Alexas.-Did I, Charmian,

Ever love Cæsar so?

Char.

paper, Charmian.

O that brave Cæsar!

The valiant Cæsar!

Cleo. Be chok'd with such another emphasis! Say, the brave Antony.

Char.

Cleo. By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth If thou with Cæsar paragon again

My man of men.

Char.

By your most gracious pardon,

My salad days,

I sing but after you.

Cleo.
When I was green in judgment:—cold in blood,
To say as I said then!-but, come, away;

Get me ink and paper: he shall have every day
A several greeting, or I'll unpeople Egypt.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-MESSINA. A Room in POMPEY'S House.

Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and Menas.

Pom. If the great gods be just, they shall assist

The deeds of justest men.

Mene.

Know, worthy Pompey, That what they do delay they not deny.

Pom. Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays The thing we sue for.

Mene.

We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good; so find we profit

By losing of our prayers.

Pom.

I shall do well:
The people love me, and the sea is mine;

My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope
Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony
In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make

No wars without doors: Cæsar gets money where
He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both,

Of both is flatter'd ; but he neither loves
Nor either cares for him.

Cæsar and Lepidus

Men.
Are in the field: a mighty strength they carry.
Pom. Where have you this? 'tis false.

From Silvius, sir.

Men. Pom. He dreams: I know they are in Rome together, Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love,

Salt Cleopatra, soften thy wan'd lip!

Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both!
Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts,
Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks
Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite;

That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour
Even till a Lethe'd dullness.

Var. This is most certain that I shall deliver:
Mark Antony is every hour in Rome

Expected: since he went from Egypt 'tis
A space for further travel.

Pom.

I could have given less matter

A better ear.-Menas, I did not think
This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his helm
For such a petty war: his soldiership

Is twice the other twain: but let us rear
The higher our opinion, that our stirring
Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck
The ne'er lust-wearied Antony.

Men.
I cannot hope
Cæsar and Antony shall well greet together:
His wife that's dead did trespasses to Cæsar;
His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think,
Not mov'd by Antony.

Pom.

I know not, Menas, How lesser enmities may give way to greater. Were't not that we stand up against them all, "Twere pregnant they should square between themselves;

For they have entertained cause enough

To draw their swords: but how the fear of us
May cement their divisions, and bind up
The petty difference, we yet not know.
Be't as our gods will have't! It only stands
Our lives upon to use our strongest hands.
Come, Menas.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-ROME. A Room in the House of LEPIDUS.

Enter ENOBARBUS and LEPIDUS.

Lep. Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed,

And shall become you well, to entreat your captain

To soft and gentle speech.

Eno.

I shall entreat him

To answer like himself: if Cæsar move him,

Let Antony look over Cæsar's head,

And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter,
Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard,

I would not shave't to-day.

Lep.

For private stomaching.

Eno.

'Tis not a time

Every time

Serves for the matter that is then born in't.

Lep. But small to greater matters must give way.
Eno. Not if the small come first.