seech thee! And let her die too, and give him a worse! and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fifty fold a cuckold! Good Isis*, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee!

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 sor row to behold a foul knave uncuckolded; Therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly!

Char. Amen.

Aler Lo, now! if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but they'd do't.

Eno. Hush! here comes Antony.

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Cleo. He was dispos'd to mirth; but on the sud


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

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


Aler. 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.

* An Egyptian goddess.

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


Whose better issue in the war, from Italy,

Upon the first encounter, drave them.


What worst?


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.



(This is stiff news) hath, with his Parthian force, Extended Asia from Euphrates;

His conquering banner shook, from Syria

To Lydia, and to Ionia;




Antony, thou would'st say,

O, my lord!

Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general


Name Cleopatra as she's call'd in Rome :

Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults
With such full licence, as both truth and malice
Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds,
When our quick windst lie still; and ourills told us,
Is as our earingt. Fare thee well a while.
Mess. At your noble pleasure.


Ant. From Sicyon how the news? Speak there. 1 Att. The man from Sicyon.-Is there such an one?

2 Att. He stays § upon your will.

* Seized.

+ In some editions minds.

Tilling, ploughing; prepares us to produce good § Waits.


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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.

2 Mess. In Sicyon:

Where died she?

Her length of sickness, with what else more serious Importeth thee to know, this bears. [Gives a letter. Forbear me.[Exit Messenger.


There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it:
What our contempts do often hurl from us,
We wish it ours again; the present pleasure,
By revolution lowering, does become
The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone;
The haud could pluck her back, that shov'd her on.
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.

Eno. What's your pleasure, sir?

Ant. I must with haste from hence.

Eno. Why, then, we kill all our women: We see how mortal an unkindness is to them; if they suffer our departure, death's the word.

Ant. I must be gone.

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.

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 almanacks 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 blessed withal, would have discredited your travel.

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

Eno. Sir?

Ant. Fulvia is dead.
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


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 lovet to part. For not alone The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too

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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
(Whose love is never link'd to the deserver,
Till his deserts are past), begin to throw
Pompey the great, and all his dignities,
Upon his son; who, high in name and power,
Higher than both in blood and life, stands up
For the main soldier: whose quality, going on,
The sides o'the world may danger: Much is breeding,
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.



Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.

Cleo. Where is he?


I did not see him since.

Cleo. See where he is, who's with him, what he

does :

I did not send you t;—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


You do not hold the method to enforce

The like from him.


What should I do, I do not?

Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in


* Horse's.

+ Look as if I did not send you.

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