Our great competitor: from Alexandria
This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes
The lamps of night in revel; is not more manlike
Than Cleopatra; nor the queen of Ptolem y
More womanly than lie; hardly gave audience, or
Vouchisafed to think he had partners: you shall find there
A man who is the abstract of all faults
That all men follow.
I must not think there are

Evils enow to darken all his goodness:
His faults in hin seem as the spots of heaven,
More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary,
Rather than purchased; what he cannot change,
Than what he chooses.

Cæs. You are too indulgent. Let us grant, it is not Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy; To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit And keep the turn of tippling with a slave; To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet 20 With knaves that smell of sweat: say this becomes him,As his com posure must be rare indeed Whom these things cannot blemish,--yet must Antony No way excuse his soils, when we do bear So great weight in his lightness. If he tilld His vacancy with his voluptuousness, Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones, Call on him fort: but to confound such time, That drums him from bis sport, and speaks as loud As his own state and ours, — 'tis to be chid

30 As we rate boys, who, being mature in kuowledge, Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, And so rebel to judgement.

Enter a Messenger.

Here's more news.
Mess. Thy biddings have been done; and every hour,
Most noble Cæsar, shalt thou have report
How 'lis abroad. Pompey is strong at sca;
And it appears he is beloved of those
That only have fear'd C'esar: to the ports
The discontents repair, and men's reports
Give him much wrong'd.

I should have known no less. 40
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 loved till ne'er worth love,
Comes deard by being lack’d. This common body,

Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream,
Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide,
To rot itself with motion.

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.

Antony, Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against, Though daintily brought up, with patience more 60 Than savages could suffer; thou didst drink The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did deign The roughest berry on the rudest hedge; Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets, The barks of trees thou browsed’st; on the Alps It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh, Which some did die to look on: and all thisIt wounds thine honour that I speak it nowWas borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek

70 So much as lank'd not. Lep.

'Tis pity of him.
Cæs. Let his shames quickly
Drive him to Rome: 'tis time we twain
Did show ourselves i' the field; and to that end
Assemble we immediate council: Pompey
Thrives in our idleness.

Tomorrow, Cæsar,
I shall be furnish'il to inform you rightly
Both what by sea and land I can be able
To front this present time.

Till which encounter,
It is my business too. Farewell.

80 Lep. Farewell, my lord: what you shall know meantime Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir, To let me be partaker. Cars.

Doubt not, sir; I knew it for my bond.


SCENE V. Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.
Cleo. Charmian!
Char. Madam?

Cleo. Ha, ha!
Give me to drink mandragora.

Why, madam?
Cleo. That I might sleep out this great gap of time
My Antony is away

You think of him too much.
Cleo, 0, 'tis treason!

Madam, I trust, not so.
Cleo. Thou, eunuch Mardian!

What's your highness' pleasure?
Cleo. Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure
In aught an eunuch has: 'tis well for thee,

10 That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts May not fly forth of Egypt. llast thou affections?

Mar. Yes, gracious madam.
Cleo. Indeed!

Mar. Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing
But what indeed is honest to be done:
Yet bave I fierce affections, and think
What Venus did with Mars.

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

20 O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony! Do bravely, horse! for wot'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 Nile?” For so he calls me: now I feed myself With most delicious poison. Think on me, That am with Phæbus' amorous pinches black, And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Cresar, 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 brow; There would lie anchor his aspect and die With looking on his life.

Enter ALEXAS. Aler.

Sovereign of Egypt, hail! Cleo. How much unlike art thou Mark Antony!

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Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hati
With his tinct gilded thee.
How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?

Alex. Last thing lie did, dear queen,
He kiss'd, -the last of many doubled kisses,

40 This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart.

C'eo. Mine ear must pluck it thence.

“Good friend,” quotlı lie,
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 lie nodded,
fand 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? 50 Aler. 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 Charınian, 'tis the man; but notc 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,

60 So does it no man else. Met'st thou my posts?

Aler. 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?

O that brave Cæsar!
Cico. Be choked with such another emphasis!
Say, the brave Antony.

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

By your most gracious pardon,
I sing but after you.

My salad days,
When I was green in judgement: cold in blood,
To say as I said then! But, come, it way;


Get me ink and paper:
He shall have every day a several greeting,
Or I'll unpeople Egypt.



SCENE I. Messina. Pompey's house.
Enter POMPEY, MEXECRATES, and Mexas, in varlike

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Pom. If the great gods be just, they shall assist
The deeds of justest men,

Know, worthy Pompey,
That what they do delay, they vot deny.

Pom. Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays
The thing we sue for.

We, ignorant of ourselves,
Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers
Deny us for our good; so find we profit
By losing of our prayers.

I shall do well:
The people love me, and the sea is mine;
My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope 10
Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony
In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make
No wars without doors: (æsar gets money where
He loses hearts: Lepidus Hatters 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 together,
Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love, 20
Salt Cleopatra, soften thy waned 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!


How now, Varrius! Var. This is most certain that I shall deliver:

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