Dar. O, Clitus! Cli. What ili request did Brutus make to thee? Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius: list a word. Why, this, Volumnius : Vol. Not so, my lord. Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. It is more worthy, to leap in ourselves, Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep; So, fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest, 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: 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. 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. — - Strato, where is thy master? 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, That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saying true. Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all : All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar; Oct. According to his virtue let us use him, ལས་ THYREUS, GALLUS, MEXECRATES, friends of Pompey. VARRIUS, TAURUS, lieutenant-general to Cæsar. SILIUS, an officer in Ventidius's army. EUPHRONIUS, an ambassador from Antony to Cæ ar ALEXAS, MARDIAN, SELEUCUS, and DIOMEDES; attendants on Cleopatra. A Soothsayer. A Clown. CLEOPATRA, Queen of Egypt. OCTAVIA, sister to Cæsar, and wife to Antony. Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attenda.::s. SCENE,-dispersed; in several parts of the Roman Empire. Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn, Fulvia, perchance, The office and devotion of their view Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart, Take but good note, and you shall see in him Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much. 728 Roesses The sum. angry; Or, who knows Ant. How, my love! sengers. ACT I. SCENE I. Care Diem absundita ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. Ant. Let Rome in Tyber melt! and the wide arch [Embracing. Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her? Ant. Now, for the love of Love, and her soft hours, Ant. SCENE II. -The same. Char. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing 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? Alex. Nay, hear him. 729 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: 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. 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. 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' him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I come, his fortune, his fortune. - O, let beseech 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 Char. Is this the man? — Is't you, sir, that know cuckold! Good Isis, hear me this prayer, though Eno. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough, Char. Good sir, give me good fortune. Char. Pray then, foresee me one. Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer than you are. Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old. Alex. Vex not his prescience; be attentive. Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than beloved. Cleo. He was dispos'd to mirth; but on the A Roman thought hath struck him.-Enobarbus,- Cleo. Seek him, and bring him hither. Where's Alexas? Alex. Here, madam, at your service. — My lord Enter ANTONY, with a Messenger and Attendants. Attendants. Mess. Fulvia thy wife first came into the field. But soon that war had end, and the time's state Cæsar; 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; 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. 'Tis Ant. 'Would I had never seen her! Mess. The nature of bad news infects the teller. On : Things, that are past, are done with me. thus: (This is stiff news) hath, with his Parthian force, His conquering banner shook, from Syria 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 : [Exit. Mess. At your noble pleasure. 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 sorrow. 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 Or lose myself in dotage. - What are you? 2 Mess. In Sicyon. Her length of sickness, with what else more serious Hath given the dare to Cæsar, and commands Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life, Ant. Hear me, queen : The strong necessity of time commands Breeds scrupulous faction: The hated, grown to strength, Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey, Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me freedom, It does from childishness: Can Fulvia die? Ant. My precious queen, forbear; And give true evidence to his love, which stands An honourable trial. ] |