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 Ptolemy

More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or

Vouchsafed to think he had partners: you shall find there
A man who is the abstract of all faults

That all men follow.

Lep.

I must not think there are

Evils enow to darken all his goodness:

His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven,
More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary,
Rather than purchased; what he cannot change,
Than what he chooses.

Cas. 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

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With knaves that smell of sweat: say this becomes him,

As his composure 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 fill'd

His vacancy with his voluptuousness,

Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones,

Call on him for't: but to confound such time,

That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud
As his own state and ours,-'tis to be chid
As we rate boys, who, being mature in knowledge,
Pawn their experience to their present pleasure,
And so rebel to judgement.

Lep.

Enter a Messenger.

Here's more news.

Mess. Thy biddings have been done; and every hour, Most noble Cæsar, shalt thou have report

How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea;

And it appears he is beloved of those
That only have fear'd Cæsar: to the ports
The discontents repair, and men's reports
Give him much wrong'd.

30.

Cas.
It hath been taught us from the primal state,
I should have known no less. 40
That he which is was wish'd until he were;
And the ebb'd man, ne'er loved till ne'er worth love,
Comes dear'd 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.

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.

Antony,

Cies.
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
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 this-
It wounds thine honour that I speak it now-
Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek
So much as lank'd not.

Lep.

'Tis pity of him.

Cas. 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.

Lep.

To-morrow, Cæsar,

I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly

Both what by sea and land I can be able

To front this present time.

Cas.

Till which encounter,

It is my business too. Farewell.

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Lep. Farewell, my lord: what you shall know meantime Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,

To let me be partaker.

Caes.

Doubt not, sir;

I knew it for my bond.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN.

Why, madam?

Cleo. That I might sleep out this great gap of time

My Antony is away.

Char.

You think of him too much.

Madam, I trust, not so.

Cleo. O, 'tis treason!
Char.

Cleo. Thou, eunuch Mardian!

Mar.

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,

That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts

May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast 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 have I fierce affections, and think

What Venus did with Mars.

Cleo.

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O Charmian,

Stands he, or sits he?

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Where think'st thou he is now?

Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?

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 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 aspect and die
With looking on his life.

Alex.

Enter ALEXAS.

Sovereign of Egypt, hail!

Cleo. How much unlike art thou Mark Antony!

Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath
With his tinct gilded thee.

How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?
Alex. Last thing he did, dear queen,

He kiss'd, -the last of many doubled kisses,-
This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart.
Cleo. Mine ear must pluck it thence.
Alex.

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"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 an arm-gaunt 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? 50 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.

Met'st thou my posts?

Alex. Ay, madam, twenty several messengers: Why do you send so thick?

Cico.

Who's born that day

Ink and paper, Charmian.

When I forget to send to Antony,

Shall die a beggar.

Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian,

Ever love Cæsar so?

Cleo. Be choked with such another emphasis! Say, the brave Antony.

Char

The valiant Cæsar!

Cleo. By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, If thou with Cæsar paragon again

My man of men.

Char.

By your most gracious pardon,

I sing but after you.

Cleo.

My salad days,

When I was green in judgement: cold in blood,
To say as I said then! But, come, away;

Get me ink and paper:

He shall have every day a several greeting,

Or I'll unpeople Egypt.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. Messina. Pompey's house.

Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS, in warlike

manner.

Pom. If the great gods be just, they shall assist

The deeds of justest men.

Mene.

Know, worthy Pompey,

That what they do delay, they not deny.

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

Mene.

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:

Pom.
The people love me, and the sea is mine;

My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope
Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony
In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make

No wars without doors: Cæsar gets money where
He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both,

Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves,
Nor either cares for him.

Men.

Cæsar and Lepidus

Are in the field a mighty strength they carry.
Pom. Where have you this? 'tis false.

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From Silvius, sir.

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Men. Pom. He dreams: I know they are in Rome together, Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love,

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!

Enter VARRIUS.

How now, Varrius!

Var. This is most certain that I shall deliver: