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Enter MARDIAN.

Cleo. Let it alone; let us to billiards:" Come, Charmian.

Char. My arm is sore, best play with Mardian. Cleo. As well a woman with an eunuch play'a, As with a woman;-Come, you'll play with me, sir? Mar. As well as I can, madam.

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

The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now :-
Give me mine angle,-We'll to the river: there,
My musick 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're caught.

"Twas merry, when

Char.
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!-0 times!-
I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night
I laugh'd him into patience: and next morn,
Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed;
Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst
I wore his sword Philippan. O! from Italy;

Enter a Messenger.

Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,
That long time have been barren.

Mess.

Cleo. Antony's dead?

Madam, madam,

If thou say so, villain, thou kill'st thy mistress:

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let us to billiards:] This is one of the numerous anachronisms that are found in these plays.

But well and free,

If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here
My bluest veins to kiss; a hand, that kings
Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing.

Mess.

First, madam, he's well. Cleo. Why, there's more gold. But, sirrah, marks

We use

To say, the dead are well: bring it to that,
The gold I give thee, will I melt, and pour
Down thy ill-uttering throat.

Mess. Good madam, hear me.

Cleo. Well, go to, I will; But there's no goodness in thy face: If Antony Be free, and healthful,-why so tart a favour To trumpet such good tidings? If not well,

Thou should'st come like a fury crown'd with snakes, Not like a formal man.s

Mess.

Will't please you hear me? Cleo. I have a mind to strike thee, ere thou speak'st:

Yet, if thou say, Antony lives, is well,

Or friends with Cæsar, or not captive to him,
I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail

Rich pearls upon thee.

Mess.

Cleo.

Madam, he's well.

Well said.

Thou'rt an honest man.

Mess. And friends with Cæsar.

Cleo.

Mess. Cæsar and he are greater friends than ever.

Cleo. Make thee a fortune from me.

Mess.

But yet, madam,—

Cleo. I do not like but yet, it does allay

Not like a formal man.] i. e. a man in form, i. e. shape. You should come in the form of a fury, and not in the form of a

man.

The good precedence; fye upon but yet:
But yet is as a gaoler to bring forth

Some monstrous malefactor. Pr'ythee, friend,
Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear,

The good and bad together: He's friend with Cæsar;
In state of health, thou say'st; and, thou say'st, free.
Mess. Free, madam! no; I made no such report:
He's bound unto Octavia.

Cleo.

For what good turn?

Mess. For the best turn i' the bed.

Cleo.

I am pale, Charmian.

Mess. Madam, he's married to Octavia.

Cleo. The most infectious pestilence upon thee!

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[Strikes him down.

What say you?-Hence,

[Strikes him again.

Horrible villain! or I'll

spurn thine eyes

[She hales him up and down.

Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head;

Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine, Smarting in ling'ring pickle.

Mess. Gracious madam, I, that do bring the news, made not the match. Cleo. Say, 'tis not so, a province I will give thee, And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst Shall make thy peace, for moving me to rage; And I will boot thee with what gift beside Thy modesty can beg.

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Mess.

Cleo. Rogue, thou hast liv'd too long.

Mess.

it does allay

He's married, madam.

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The good precedence;] i. e. abates the good quality of what is already reported.

What mean you, madam? I have made no fault.
[Exit.
Char. Good madam, keep yourself within yourself;
The man is innocent.

Cleo. Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt.

Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures
Turn all to serpents!-Call the slave again;
Though I am mad, I will not bite him:-Call.
Char. He is afeard to come.

Cleo.

I will not hurt him :These hands do lack nobility, that they strike A meaner than myself; since I myself

Have given myself the cause.-Come hither, sir. Re-enter Messenger.

Though it be honest, it is never good

To bring bad news: Give to a gracious message
An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell
Themselves, when they be felt.

Mess.

Cleo. Is he married?

I have done my duty.

I cannot hate thee worser than I do,

If thou again say, Yes.

Mess.

He is married, madam.

Cleo. The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still?

Mess. Should I lie, madam?

These hands do lack nobility, that they strike

A meaner than myself;] Perhaps here was intended an indirect censure of Queen Elizabeth, for her unprincely and unfeminine treatment of the amiable Earl of Essex. The play was probably not produced till after her death, when a stroke at her proud and passionate demeanour to her courtiers and maids of honour (for her majesty used to chastise them too) might be safely hazarded. In a subsequent part of this scene there is (as Dr. Grey has observed) an evident allusion to Elizabeth's enquiries concerning the person of her rival, Mary, Queen of Scots. MALONE.

Cleo.

O, I would, thou didst; So half my Egypt were submerg'd,' and made A cistern for scal'd snakes! Go, get thee hence; Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me Thou would'st appear most ugly. He is married? Mess. I crave your highness' pardon.

Cleo.

He is married? Mess. Take no offence, that I would not offend

you:

To punish me for what you make me do,

Seems much unequal: He is married to Octavia. Cleo. O, that his fault should make a knave of thee,

That art not!-What? thou'rt sure of't?-Get thee

hence:

The merchandise which thou hast brought from

Rome,

Are all too dear for me; Lie they upon thy hand,
And be undone by 'em! [Exit Messenger.
Char.
Good your highness, patience.
Cleo. In praising Antony, I have disprais'd Cæsar.
Char. Many times, madam.

Cleo.

Lead me from hence,

I am paid for't now.

I faint; O Iras, Charmian,-"Tis no matter:-
Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him
Report the feature of Octavia,' her years,
Her inclination, let him not leave out

The colour of her hair :-bring me word quickly.—

[Exit ALEXAS. Let him for ever go:-Let him not-Charmian,

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were submerg'd,] Submerg'd is whelmed under water. the feature of Octavia,] By feature seems to be meant, the cast and make of her face. Feature, however, anciently ap pears to have signified beauty in general.

Let him for ever go:] She is now talking in broken sentence not of the Messenger, but Antony. JOHNSON.

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