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

The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm
And burgonet of men. He's speaking now,
Or murmuring 'Where's my serpent of old

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

When thou wast here above the ground I was 30
A morsel for a monarch, and great Pompey
Would stand and make his eyes grow in my


There would he anchor his aspect and die With looking on his life.

To mend the petty present, I will piece
Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the


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 spoke

Was beastly dumb'd by him.


What was he sad or merry? so

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 When I forget to send to Antony, Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian. Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian, Ever love Cæsar so?

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

Char. The valiant Cæsar ! Cleo. By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, 9 If thou with Cæsar paragon again My man of men.


By your most gracious pardon,

I sing but after you.


My salad days,

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My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope | Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard,
Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony 11 I would not shave 't to-day.
In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make

'Tis not a time

No wars without doors; Cæsar gets money where

For private stomaching.

Every time
Serves for the matter that is then born in 't. 10
Lep. But small to greater matters must give

He loses hearts; Lepidus flatters both,
Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves,
Nor either cares for him.

Cæsar and Lepidus
Are in the field; a mighty strength they carry.
Pom. Where have you this? 'tis false.
From Silvius, sir.
Pom. He dreams; I know they are in Rome

Looking for Antony. But all the charms of


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 dulness!


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How now, Varrius!
Var. This is most certain that I shall deliver:
Mark Antony is every hour in Rome
Expected; since he went from Egypt 'tis 30 The rather for I earnestly beseech,
A space for further travel.

I could have given less matter
A better ear. Menas, I did not think
This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his

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.

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Eno. Not if the small come first.

Your speech is passion;
But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes
The noble Antony.

And yonder, Cæsar.
Ant. If we compose well here, to Parthia :
Hark ye, Ventidius.
I do not know,
Mecænas; ask Agrippa.

That which combin'd us
let not

A leaner action rend us.

What's amiss,


May it be gently heard; when we debate
Our trivial difference loud, we do commit
Murder in healing wounds; then, noble partners,

Noble friends,
was most great, and


Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms,
Nor curstness grow to the matter.

Caes. Welcome to Rome.

Ant. Thank you.

Cæs. Sit.


'Tis spoken well. Were we before our armies, and to fight, I should do thus.


Ant. Sit, sir.

Cæs. Nay, then.

Ant. I learn, you take things ill which are not so, Or being, concern you not.


I must be laugh'd at
If, or for nothing or a little, I
Should say myself offended, and with you
Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at that I

Once name you derogately, when to sound your


It not concern'd me.

My being in Egypt, Cæsar.
What was 't to you?


Caes. No more than my residing here at Rome Might be to you in Egypt; yet, if you there Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt Might be my question.


How intend you, practis'd? Cæs. You may be pleas'd to catch at mine intent

By what did here befall me. Your wife and

Made wars upon me, and their contestation
Was theme for you, you were the word of war.
Ant. You do mistake your business; my
brother never

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Having alike your cause? Of this my letters
Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel,
As matter whole you have not to make it with,
It must not be with this.

You praise yourself By laying defects of judgment to me, but

You patch'd up your excuses.

Ant. Not so, not so; 60 I know you could not lack, I am certain on 't, Very necessity of this thought, that I, Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought, Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife, I would you had her spirit in such another: The third o' the world is yours, which with a snaffle

You may pace easy, but not such a wife.

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Agr. Thou hast a sister by the mother's side, Admir'd Octavia; great Mark Antony

Eno. Would we had all such wives, that the Is now a widower. men might go to wars with the women!


Ant. So much uncurbable, her garboils, Cæsar,
Made out of her impatience, which not wanted
Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant
Did you too much disquiet; for that you must
But say I could not help it.

I wrote to you
When rioting in Alexandria; you
Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts
Did gibe my missive out of audience.


He fell upon me ere admitted: then
Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want
Of what I was i' the morning; but next day 81
I told him of myself, which was as much
As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow
Be nothing of our strife; if we contend,
Out of our question wipe him.
You have broken
The article of your oath, which you shall never
Have tongue to charge me with.

Lep. Ant.

Lepidus, let him speak:

Soft, Cæsar!


The honour's sacred which he talks on now, Supposing that I lack'd it. But on, Cæsar; The article of my oath.


Cæs. To lend me arms and aid when I requir'd them,

The which you both denied.

Neglected, rather;
And then when poison'd hours had bound me up
From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may,
I'll play the penitent to you; but mine honesty
Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power
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 honour
To stoop in such a case.
Mec. If it might please you, to enforce no

'Tis noble spoken.

The griefs between ye: to forget them quite Were to remember that the present need Speaks to atone you.


Lep. Worthily spoken, Mecænas. Eno. Or, if you borrow one another's love for the instant, you may, when you hear no more words of Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to wrangle in when you have nothing else to do.

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Say not so, Agrippa; If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof Were well deserv'd of rashness.

Ant. I am not married, Cæsar; let me hear Agrippa further speak.


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Would then be nothing; truths would be tales
Where now half tales be truths; her love to both
Would each to other and all loves to both
Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke,
For 'tis a studied, not a present thought,
By duty ruminated.

Will Cæsar speak!
Cas. Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd
With what is spoke already.

Ant. What power is in Agrippa, If I would say, 'Agrippa, be it so,' To make this good? Cas.

The power of Cæsar, and

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Time calls upon 's:
Of us must Pompey presently be sought,
Or else he seeks out us.
111 Ant.
Where lies he?

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Eno. When she first met Mark Antony sne pursed up his heart, upon the river of Cydnus. Agr. There she appeared indeed, or my reporter devised well for her.


O! rare for Antony. 213
Eno. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides,
So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes,
And made their bends adornings; at the helm
A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle
Swell with the touches of those flower-soft

That rarely 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' the market-place, did sit alone,
Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too
And made a gap in nature.


Rare Egyptian!
Eno. Upon her landing Antony sent to her,
Invited her to supper; she replied
It should be better he became her guest,
Which she entreated. Our courteous Antony,
Whom ne'er the word of 'No' woman heard


Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast,
And for his ordinary pays his heart
For what his eyes eat only.


Royal wench!
She made great Cæsar lay his sword to bed;
He plough'd her, and she cropp'd.
Hop forty paces through the public street;
And having lost her breath, she spoke, and

I saw her once

That she did make defect perfection,
And, breathless, power breathe forth.

Mec. Now Antony must leave her utterly.
Eno. Never; he will not.
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.


Let us go.

Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest
Whilst you abide here.



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Eno. I will tell you.

The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
Burn'd on the water; the poop was beaten gold, Enter CÆSAR, ANTONY, OCTAVIA between them;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them, the oars
were silver,


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
In her pavilion, cloth-of-gold of tissue,
O'er-picturing that Venus where we see
The fancy outwork nature; on each side her
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid did.

Humbly, sir, I thank you. Exeunt.

SCENE III.The Same. A Room in CÆSAR'S


Ant. The world and my great office will sometimes

Divide me from your bosom.


All which time Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers To them for you.


Good night, sir. My Octavia,
Read not my blemishes in the world's report;
I have not kept my square, but that to come
Shall all be done by the rule. Good night, dear
Good night, sir.
Cas. Good night.


Enter Soothsayer.


Ant. Now, sirrah; you do wish yourself in
Sooth. Would I had never come from thence,
nor you

If you can, your reason?

I see it in
My motion, have it not in my tongue: but yet
Hie you to Egypt again.


Sav to me,

Cleo. As well a woman with an eunuch play'd Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Cæsar's or As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me,

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If thou dost play with him at any game
Thou art sure to lose, and of that natural luck,
He beats thee 'gainst the odds; thy lustre

When he shines by. I say again, thy spirit
Is all afraid to govern thee near him,
But he away, 'tis noble.



Get thee gone : Say to Ventidius I would speak with him. Exit Soothsayer. He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap He hath spoken true; the very dice obey him, And in our sports my better cunning faints Under his chance; if we draw lots he speeds, His cocks do win the battle still of mine When it is all to nought, and his quails ever Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds. I will to Egypt; And though I make this marriage for my peace, I' the east my pleasure lies.

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Mar. As well as I can, madai.

Cleo. And when good will is show'd, though 't 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

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 wher You wager'd on your angling; when your diver Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he With fervency drew up.

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Cleo. Antony's dead! If thou say so, villain, Thou kill'st thy mistress; 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 is well. Cleo.

Why, there's more gold. But, sirrah, mark, 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.

Well, go to, I will; But there's no goodness in thy face; if Antony Be free and healthful, 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.


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.

Mess. And friends with Cæsar.
Thou 'rt an honest man.
Mess. Cæsarand heare greater friends than ever.
Cleo. Make thee a fortune from me.

But yet, madam.-
Cleo. I do not like 'but yet,' it does allay
The good precedence; fie upon 'but yet'!
'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth
Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend,
Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear.
The good and bad together. He's friends with

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