Ant. When it concerns the Fool or Coward; on. Mef. Labienus, this is ftiff News, Hath, with his Parthian Force, extended Asia; Banner fhook, from Syria to Lydia, Ant. Antony thou would'st say. Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general Tongue, Name Cleopatra as fhe is call'd in Rome: Rail thou in Fulvia's Phrase, and taunt my Faults Mef. At your noble Pleasure. Ant. From Scicion how the News? fpeak there. Ant. Let him appear; Thefe ftrong Egyptian Fetters I muft break, 2 Mef. Fulvia thy Wife is dead. Ant. Where died fhe? 2 Mef. In Scicion, her length of Sickness With what elfe more serious, Importeth thee to know, this bears. Ant. Forbear me. There's a great Spirit gone, thus did I defire it, The oppofite of it felf; fhe's good being gone, Enter Enter Enobarbus. Eno. What's your pleasure, Sir? Ant. I muft with hafte from hence. Eno. Why the we kill all our Women. We fee how mortal an Unkenmefs is to them, if they fuffer our depar ture, Death' .he word. Ant. I must be gone. Exo. Under a compelling occafion, let women die. It were pity to caft them away for nothing, though between them and a great caufe, they fhould be efteem'd nothing, Cleopatra catching but the leaft noise of this dies inftantly; I have feen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is Mettle in Death, which commits fome loving a& upon her, fhe hath fuch a Celerity in Dying. Ant. She is cunning paft Man's Thought. Eno. Alack, Sir, no, her Paffions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure Love. We cannot call her Winds and Waters, Sighs and Tears: And yet they are greater Storms and Tempefts than Almanacks can report. This can not be cunning in her: if it be, the makes a Show'r of Rain as well as Jove. Ant. Would I had never feen her. Eno. Oh Sir, you had then left unfeen a wonderful Piece of Work, which not to have been bleft withal, would have difcredited your Travel. Ant. Fulvia is dead Eno. Sir ! Ant. Fulvia is dead. Ant. Dead. Eno. Why Sir, give the Gods a thankful Sacrifice: when it pleafeth their Deities to take the Wife of a Man from him, it fhews to Man the Tailors of the Earth: Comforting him therein, that when old Robes are worn out, there are Members to make new. If there were no more Women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the cafe were to be lamented: This Grief is crowned with Confolation, your old Smock brings forth a new Petticoat, and indeed the Tears live in an Onion, that fhould water this Sorrow. Ant Ant. The Business she hath broach'd here in the State, Cannot endure my Abfence. Eno. And the Bufinefs you have broach'd here cannot be without you, especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your Aboad. Ant. No more like Anfwers: Let our Officers For the main Soldier; Whofe Quality going on, The fides o' th' World may danger. Much is breeding Eno. I fhall do't. [Exeunt. Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Iras. Cleo. Where is he? Char, I did not fee him fince. Cleo. See where he is, who's with him, what he do's a I did not fend you. If you find him fad, Say I am dancing: if in Mirth, report That I am fudden fick. Quickly, and return, Char. Madam, methinks if you did love him dearly, You do not hold the method, to enforce The like from him. Cleo. What fhould I do, I do not? Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in nothing. Char. Char. Tempt him not, fo, too far. I wish, forbear, Intime we hate that which we often fear. Enter Antony. But here comes Antony. Cleo. I am Sick, and fullen. Ant. I am forry to give Breathing to my purpose. It cannot be thus long, the fides of Nature [Seeming to faime. Ant. Now, my deareft Queen. Cleo. Pray you ftand farther from me. Ant. What's the matter? Cleo. I know by that fame Eye there's fome good News. Cleo. Oh never was there Queen Ant. Cleopatra. Cleo. Why should I think you can be mine, and true, Ant. Moft fweet Queen, Cleo. Nay pray you feek no colour for your going, Blifs in our Brows bent, none our Parts fo poor, Art turn'd the greater Liar. Ant. How now, Lady? Cleo. I would I had thy Inches, thou should'st know There were a Heart in Ægypt. Ant. Hear me, Queen; The ftrong neceflity of time, commands Our Our fervices awhile; but my full Heart Shines o'er with civil Swords; Sextus Pompeius Equality of two Domeftick Pow'rs, Breed fcrupulous Faction; the hated, grown to Strength, Is Fulvia's Death. Cleo. Though Age from Folly could not give me freedom, It does from Childishness. Can Fulvia die? Ant. She's dead, my Queen, Look here, and at thy Sovereign leifure read Cleo. O moft falfe Love! Where be the facred Viols thou should'st fill Glee. Cut my Lace, Charmian, come, So Anthony loves. Ant. My precious Queen forbear, And give true evidence to his Love, which ftands Cleo. So Fulvia told me. I prethee turn afide, and weep for her, Belong to Ægppt. Good now, play one Scene |