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.

as,

Char. Pr'ythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune. Sooth. Your fortunes are alike.

Iras. But how? but how? give me particulars. Sooth. I have said.

Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexcome, his fortune, his fortune. — O, let him marry, sweet Isis 9, I beseech thee! And let her die, and give him a worse! and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave. 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! Dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune

Char. Amen.

Dem.

I am full sorry, That he approves the common liar 8, who Thus speaks of him at Rome: But I will hope Of better deeds to-morrow.

Rest you happy! [Exeunt.

Eno. Hush! here comes Antony. Char.

Not he, the queen.

Enter CLEOPatra.

Cleo. Saw you my lord?

Eno.

No, lady.

Cleo.

Was he not here?

But soon that war had end, and the time's state Made friends of them, jointing their force 'gainst Cæsar;

Whose better issue in the war, from Italy,

Char. Good sir, give me good fortune.

Sooth. I make not, but foresee.

Char. Pray, then, foresee me one.

Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer than you are.
Char. He means, in flesh.

Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old.
Char. Wrinkles forbid !

Alex. Vex not his prescience; be attentive.
Char. Hush!

Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than beloved.
Char. I had rather heat my liver with drinking.
Alex. Nay, hear him.

Char. Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all: 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. 7 Consume.

Ant. What worst?

Well,

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.

Labienus

Mess.
(This is stiff news) hath, with his Parthian force,
Extended 9 Asia from Euphrates;
His conquering banner shook, from Syria
To Lydia, and to Ionia;
Whilst

Ant.
Mess.
O, my lord!
Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general
tongue;

Antony, thou wouldst say

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,

Ant. I must be gone.

Eno. Under 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.

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 others 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; 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 Have notice what we propose. I shall break The cause of our expedience to the queen, And get her love to part. For not alone The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, Do strongly speak to us: but the letters too 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.

SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS.
Cleo. Where is he?

Char.
I did not see him since.
Cleo. See where he is, who's with him, what he
does :

I did not send you6: - If you find him sad,
Say, I am dancing; if in mirth, report
That I am sudden sick : Quick, and return.

[Exit ALEXAS. Char. Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, You do not hold the method to enforce

The like from him.
Cleo.
What should I do, I do not?
Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in
nothing.

Cleo. Thou teachest like a fool: the way to lose him. Char. Tempt him not so too far: I wish, forbear; In time we hate that which we often fear.

4 Expedition.

O, never, was there queen, 5 Leave.

6 Look as if I did not send you.

As his own state, and ours, -'tis to be chid

Most noble Cæsar, shalt thou have report
How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea;
And it appears, he is belov'd of those
That only have fear'd Cæsar: to the ports
The discontents 8 repair, and men's reports
Give him much wrong'd.

Cæs.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN

time, My Antony is away.

Char. Too much.

You think of him

I should have known no less: It hath been taught us from the primal state, That he, which is, was wish'd, until he were ; And the ebb'd man, ne'er lov'd, till ne'er worth love, Comes dear'd, by being lack'd.9 This common body, Like a vagabond flag upon the stream, Goes to, and back, lackeying the varying tide, To rot itself with motion.

Mess. Cæsar, I bring thee word, Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates, Make the sea serve them; which they ear and wound With keels of every kind: Many hot inroads They make in Italy; the borders maritime Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt: No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more, Than could his war resisted.

Cleo.

Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?

he?

Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou mov'st?

:

The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm
And burgonet of men. - He's speaking now,
Or murmuring, Where's my serpent of old Nile?
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 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 aspéct, and die
With looking on his life.

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 a termagant 6 steed,
Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke
Was beastly dumb'd by him.

Cleo.
What, was he sad, or merry?
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.