Eno. Yes, like enough; high battled Cafar will
Unftate his happiness, and be ftag'd to th' thew
Against a fworder.-1 fee, men's judgments are
A parcel of their fortunes, and things outward
Do draw the inward quality after them,

To fuffer all alike. That he should dream,
Knowing all meafures, the full Cafar will

Answer his emptiness!-Cæfar, thou haft fubdu'd
His judgment too.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. A meffenger from Cæfar.

Cleo. What, no more ceremony? fee, my women,Against the blown rofe may they stop their nose, That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, Sir. Eno. (40) Mine honefty and I begin to fquare; Tho' loyalty, well held, to fools does make Our faith mere folly yet he, that can endure To follow with allegiance a fall'n Lord, Does conquer him that did his mafter conquer, And earns a place i'th' ftory.

Enter Thyreus.

Cleo. Cafar's will?

Thyr. Hear it apart.

Cleo. None but friends; fay boldly.

Thyr. So, haply, are they friends to Antony. Eno. He needs as many, Sir, as Cafar has: Or needs not us. If Cæfar please, our mafter

(40) Mine bonefty and I begin to fquare;

The loyalty, well beld to fools, does make

Our faith mere folly: &c.]

If I fee any thing of the Poet's fentiment in this paffage, both the text and pointing are flightly deprav'd; and, I think, I have reform'd both juftly. After Enobarbus has faid, that his honefty and he begin to quarrel, (i. e. that his reafon fhews him to be miftaken in his firm adherence to Antony ;) he immediately falls into this generous reflection: "Tho' loyalty, ftubbornly preferv'd to a Master in his de"clin'd fortunes, feems folly in the eyes of fools; (i. e. men, who "have not honour enough to think more wifely ;) yet he, who can "be fo obftinately loyal, will make as great a figure on record, as "the conqueror."

Will leap to be his friend; för, as you know,
Whofe he is, we are, and that's Cæfar's.
Thyr. So.

Thus then, thou most renown'd, Cæfar intreats,
Not to confider in what cafe thou ftand'f
Further than he is Cæfar.

Cleo. Go on;-right royal.

Thyr. He knows, that you embrace not Antony As you did love, but as you fear'd him.

Cleo. Oh!

[Afide.

Thyr. The fears upon your honour, therefore, he Does pity, as constrained blemishes,

Not as deferv'd.

Cleo. He is a God, and knows

What is moft right.

But conquer'd merely..

Mine honour was not yielded,

Eno. To be fure of that,

I will afk Antony-Sir, thou'rt fo leaky,,
That we must leave thee to thy finking, for
Thy deareft quit thee.

Thyr. Shall I fay to Cafar

What you require of him? he partly begs,

[Exit Eno.

To be defir'd to give. It much would please him,
That of his fortunes you would make a staff

To lean upon. But it would warm his spirits,

To hear from me you had left Antony,

And put yourself under his fhroud, the univerfal land

Cleo. What's your name?

Thyr. My name is Thyreus.

Cleo (41) Moft kind meffenger,

Say to great Cæfar this; in deputation

(41) Moft kind messenger;

Say to great Cæfar this in difputation,

1 kifs his conqu'ring band :]

[lord.

I kifs

Again, the pointing and text must be corrected. If the fagacious Editors can reasonably expound Disputation, here, I allow them to fee farther into a millftone than I pretend to do. The Poet certainly wrote, (as Mr. Warburton likewife faw, we must reftore;}

Moft kind meffenger;

Say to great Cæfar this; in deputation
I kifs bis conqu'ring band :

I kifs his conqu❜ring hand: tell him, I'm prompt
To lay my crown at's feet, and there to kneel.
Tell him, that from his all obeying breath
I hear the doom of Ægypt.

Thyr. 'Tis your nobleft courfe:

Wisdom and fortune combating together,
If that the former dare but what it can,

No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay
My duty on your hand.

Cleo. Your Cafar's father oft,

When he hath mus'd of taking kingdoms in,
Beftow'd his lips on that unworthy place,
As it rain'd kiffes.

Enter Antony, and Enobarbus:

Ant. Favours! by Jove, that thunders.

What art thou, fellow?

[Seeing Thyreus kifs ber hand,

Thyr. One that but performs

The bidding of the fulleft man, and worthieft

To have command obey'd.

Eno. You will be whipp'd..

Ant. Approach there—ah, you kite! now, Gods and Devils!

Authority melts from me of late. When I cry'd, hoa!
Like boys unto a mufs, Kings would start forth,
And cry, your will? have you no ears ?

I'm Antony yet. Take hence this Jack, and whip him.

i. e. by Proxy; I depute you to pay him that duty in my name. Our author has employ'd this word in feveral other passages.

Lent him our terror, dreft him with our love,

And giv'n bis deputation all the organs

Of our own pow'r.

And that his friends by deputation

Could not fo foon be drawn,

Of all the fav'rites, that the abfent King
In deputation left behind him here.

Meaf. for Meaf.

1 Henry IV.

Ibid.

-Sometimes, great Agamemnon,
Thy topless deputation he puts on.

Troilus, &c. &c.

Enter

Enter Servants.

Eno. 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp, Than with an old one dying.

Ant. Moon and ftars!

Whip him :-Were't twenty of the greateft tributaries
That do acknowledge Cafar, fhould I find them
So faucy with the hand of She here, (what's her name
Since he was Cleopatra ?)-whip him, fellows-
Till, like a boy, you fee him cringe his face,
And whine aloud for mercy. Take him hence.
Thyr. Mark Antony

Ant. Tug him away; being whipp'd,
Bring him again: this Jack of Cæfar's fhall
Bear us an errand to him.

[Exeunt with Thyreus.

You were half blafted, ere I knew you: ha!
Have I my pillow left unpreft in Rome,
Forborn the getting of a lawful race,
And by a jem of women, to be abus'd
By one that looks on feeders?
Cleo. Good my Lord,-

Ant. You have been a boggler ever.

But when we in our vicioufnefs grow hard,

(O mifery on't!) the wife Gods feal our eyes

In our own filth, drop our clear judgments, make us Adore our errors, laugh at's, while we ftrut

To our confufion.

Cleo. Oh, is't come to this?

Ant. I found you as a morfel, cold upon Dead Cæfar's trencher: nay, you were a fragment Of Cneius Pompey's; befides what hotter hours, Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have Luxuriously pickt out. For, I am fure,

Though you can guess what temperance should be, You know not what it is.

Cleo. Wherefore is this?

Ant. To let a fellow that will take rewards,
And fay, God quit you, be familiar with

My play-fellow, your hand; this kingly feal,
And plighter of high hearts

-O that I were

3

Upon

Upon the hill of Bafan, to out-roar

The horned herd, for I have favage caufe!
And to proclaim it civilly, were like

A halter'd neck, which does the hangman thank
For being yare about him. Is he whipp'd?

Re-enter a Servant, with Thyreus.

Serv. Soundly, my Lord.

Ant. Cry'd he? and begg'd a' pardon?

Serv. He did afk favour.

Ant. If that thy father live, let him repent

Thou waft not made his daughter; and be thou forry To follow Cæfar in his triumph, fince

Thou haft been whipp'd for following him. Henceforth,
The white hand of a lady fever thee,

Shake to look on't.-Go, get thee back to Cæfar,
Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou fay,
He makes me angry with him: For he seems
Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry;
And, at this time, moft eafy 'tis to do t:
When my good stars, that were my former guides,
Have empty left their orbs, and fhot their fires
Into the abyfm of hell. If he mislike

My fpeech, and what is done, tell him, he has
Hipparchus my enfranchis'd bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he shall like, to quit me. Urge it thou:
Hence with thy ftripes, be gone. [Exit Thyreus.

Cleo. Have you done yet

Ant. Alack, our terrene moon is now eclips'd,
And it portends alone the fall of Antony.
Cleo. I must stay his time.

Ant. To flatter Cafar, would you mingle eyes

With one that ties his points?
Cleo. Not know me yet?

Ant. Cold-hearted toward me!
Cleo. Ah, dear, if I be fo,

From my cold heart let heav'n ingender hail,
And poifon't in the fource, and the first stone

Drop