His vacancy with his voluptuousness,
Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones,
Call on him for 't: but to confound such time,
That drums him from his sport, and speaks as
As his own state and ours-'tis to be chid [loud
As we rate boys, who, being mature in know-
ledge,
[sure,
Pawn their experience to their present plea-
And so rebel to judgement.

Antony,

Leave thy lascivious wassels. When thou once
Wert 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,

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

Cleopatra on the absence of Antony.
O Charmian,
[sits he?
Where think'st thou he is now? stands he? or
Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?

O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!
Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou

mov'st ?

The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm
And burgonet of man. He's speaking now,
Or murmuring, "Where's my serpent of old
For so he calls me; now I feed myself [Nile?"
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.

Messengers from Lovers grateful.

How much unlike art thou Mark Antony!
Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath
With his tinct gilded thee.

Antony's Love and Dissipation.
Ale. Good friend, quoth he,
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-gaunt steed,
Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have
Was beastly dumb'd by him.
[spoke

Of hot and cold; he was nor sad or merry.

Cle. 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.

The Vanity of human Wishes.
Pom. If the great gods be just, they shall
The deeds of justest men.

Men. Know, worthy Pompey,

[assist

That what they do delay, they not deny.
Pom. Whiles we are suitors to their throne,
The thing we sue for.

[decays

Men. We, ignorant of ourselves,
Beg often our own harms, which the wise pow'rs
Deny us for our good; so find we profit,
By losing of our prayers.

Pompey's Wish for Antony's Captivity in

Pleasure.

may,

I'll play the penitent to you: but mine honesty
Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my pow'r
Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia,
To have me out of Egypt, made wars here;
For which myself, the ignorant motive, do
So far ask pardon, as befits mine honor
To stoop in such a case.

Lep. Tis nobly spoken.
Description of Cleopatra's Sailing down the
Cydnus.

The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold,
Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that

were silver :

The winds were love-sick with them: th' oars | I laugh'd him into patience: and next morn,
[made Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed;
Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst
I wore his sword Philippan.

Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and
The water which they beat, to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes. For her own
It beggar'd all description: she did lie [person,
In her pavilion (cloth of gold, of tissue),
O'er-picturing that Venus, where we see
The fancy out-work nature. On each side her
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cu-
pids,

With divers-color'd fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid, did.

Agr. O rare for Antony!

Eno. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereids,
So many mermaids, tended her i' th' eyes,
And made their bends adornings. At the helm,
A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle
Swell with the touches of those flow'r-soft

hands

That yarely frame the office. From the barge
A strange invisible perfume hits the sense
Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast
Her people out upon her; and Antony,
Enthron'd i' th' market-place, did sit alone,
Whistling to th' air; which, but for vacancy,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,
And made a gap in nature.

Cleopatra's infinite Power in pleasing.
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety: other women cloy
The appetites they feed; but she makes hungry,
Where most she satisfies. For vilest things
Become themselves in her, that the holy priests
Bless her when she is riggish

The unsettled Humor of Lovers.
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.
Cleo. Give me some music; music, moody
[food

Of us that trade in love.
Omnes. The music, ho!

Enter Mardian the Eunuch.
Cleo. Let it alone: let's to billards: come,
Charmian.

Char. My arm is sore, best play with Mar

dian.

Cleo. As well a woman with an eunuch play, [Sir. As with a woman; come-you'll play with me, Mar. As well as I can, Madam.

Cleo. And when good will is show'd, tho'
it come too short,

The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now:-
Give me mine angle-we'll to the river: there,
My music playing far off, I will betray
Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall
pierce

Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up,
I'll think them every one an Antony,
And say, Ah, ha! you are caught.

Char. 'Twas merry, when

You wager'd on your angling; when your
diver

Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he
With fervency drew up.

Cleo. That time!-O times!

Loyalty.

Mine honesty and I begin to square.
The loyalty well held to fools does make
Our faith mere folly: yet, he that can endure
To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord,
Does conquer him that did his master conquer,
And carns a place i'the story.

Wisdom superior to Fortune.
If that the former dare but what it can,
Wisdom and fortune combating together,
No chance may shake it.

Vicious persons infatuated by Heaven.
When we in our viciousness grow hard,
(O misery on't!) the wise gods seal our eyes
In our own filth, drop our clear judgements,

make us

Adore our errors; laugh at us; while we strut
To our confusion.

Fury expels Fear.

[rious
Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be fu-
Is to be frighted out of fear: and, in that mood,
The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still
A diminution in our captain's brain
Restores his heart: when valour preys on reason

I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night It eats the sword it fights with.

Him vile that was your garland.

Aufidius's Hatred to Coriolanus.
-Nor sleep, nor sanctuary,

The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: | And call him noble, that was now your hate,
Yare, yare, good Iras; quick-methinks, I hear
Antony call; I see him rouse himself
To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
The luck of Cæsar, which the gods give men
T excuse their after wrath. Husband, I come:
Now to that name, my courage, prove my title!
I am fire, and air; my other elements
I give to baser life. So, have you done?
Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips:
Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell.
[Kisses them. Iras falls and dies.
Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall?
If thou and nature can so gently part,
The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch,
Which hurts, and is desired Dost thou lie still?

If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world
It is not worth leave-taking.

Char Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I
The gods themselves do weep. [may say,

Cleo This proves me base—-
If she first meet the curled Antony,
He'll make demand of her; and spend that kiss
Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou
mortal wretch,

[To the asp, which she applies to her breast.]
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool,
Be angry and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak,
That I might hear thee call great Cæsar ass,
Unpolicy'd!

Char. O, eastern star.
Cleo. Peace, peace!

Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
That sucks the nurse asleep?

Char. O, break, O, break!

[gentle

you,

you,

The other makes you proud. He that trusts to
Where he should find you lions, finds you
hares;

Where foxes, geese; you are no surer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,
Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is, [him,
To make him worthy, whose offence subdues
And curse that justice did it. Who deserves
greatness,

Deserves your hate and your affections are
A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
Which would increase his evil. He that de-
pends

Upon your favors, swims with fins of lead,
And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye,-
trust ye?

With every minute you do change a mind;

Being naked, sick; nor fane nor Capitol,
The prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifice,
Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
My hate to Marcius. Where I find him, were it
At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
Against the hospitable canon, would I
Wash my fierce hand in his heart.

him:

An imaginary Description of Coriolanus war-
ring.
See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair;
Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum;
As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning
[thus,-
Methinks I see him stamp thus,-and call
"Come on, ye cowards! ye were got in fear,
Though ye were born in Rome:" his bloody
[goes
With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he
Like to a harvest man, that's task'd to mow
Or all, or lose his hire.

brow

[blood!
Virge. His bloody brow! Oh, Jupiter, no
Vol. Away, you fool! it more becomes a man,
Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba,
When she did suckle Hector, looked not love-
lier
[blood
Than Hector's forehead, when it spit forth
At Grecian swords contending.

Doing our Duty merits not Praise.
Pray now, no more: my mother,
Who has a charter to extol her blood,
When she does praise me, grieves me: I have
done,
[duc'd
As you have done; that's what I can! in-
As you have been; that's for my country:
He that has but effected his good will,
Hath overta'en mine act.

windows,

With variable complexions; all agreeing
Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges hors d

In earnestness to see him seld-shown flamens
Do press among the popular throngs, and puff
Commit the war of white and damask, in
To win a vulgar station: our veil'd dames
Of Phoebus' burning kisses: such a pother,
Their nicely-gawded cheeks, to the wanton spoil
As if that whatsoever god, who leads him,
Were slily crept into his human powers,
And gave him graceful posture.

Cominius' Speech in the Senate.

I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus
Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held
That valor is the chiefest virtue, and
Most dignifies the haver: if it be,