Were nice3 and lucky, men did ransome lives Cleo. It is my birth-day : I had thought, to have held it poor; but, since my lord I's Antony again, I will be Cleopatra. Ant. We'll yet do well. Cleo. Call all his noble captains to my lord. Ant. Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force The wine peep through their scars.-Come on, my queen • There's sap. .in't yet. The next time I do fight, I'll make death love me; for I will contend Even with his pestilent scythe. [Exeunt ANT. CLEO. and Attend. Eno. Now he'll out-stare the lightning. To be furious, Is, to be frighted out of fear; and in that mood, The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still, A diminution in our captain's brain Restores his heart. When valour preys on reason, [Exit. ACT IV. SCENE I.-CESAR's Camp at Alexandria. Enter CESAR, reading a letter; AGRIPPA, MECENAS, and others. Caes. He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power To beat me out of Egypt: my messenger He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal combat, Cæsar to Antony: Let the old ruffian know, I have many other ways to die; mean time, [3] Nice-seems to be, just fit for my purpose, agreeable to my wish. So we vulgarly say of any thing that is done better than was expected, it is nice. JOHNSON. [1 This is still an epithet bestowed on feast days in the colleges of either univer sity. STEEVENS. Gawdy, or Grand Days in the Inns of court, are four in the year, Ascension day, Midsummer day, Allsaints day, and Candlemas day. REED Laugh at his challenge." Mec. Cæsar must think," When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now Make boot of his distraction : Never anger Cæs. Let our best heads Know, that to-morrow the last of many battles Poor Antony ! [Exeunt. SCENE II. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. Enter ANTONY, CLEOpatra, EnobarBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and others. Ant. He will not fight with me, Domitius. Eno. No. Ant. Why should he not? Eno. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, He is twenty men to one. Ant. To-morrow, soldier, By sea and land I'll fight or I will live, Or bathe my dying' honour in the blood Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well? Ant. Well said; come on.- Call forth my household servants; let's to-night, [5] What a reply is this to Antony's challenge? 'tis acknowledged that he should die under the unequal combat; but if we read-- He hath many other ways to die: mean time, I laugh at his challenge. In this reading we have poignancy, and the very repartee of Cæsar. Let's hear Plutarch. After this, Antony sent a challenge to Cesar, to fight him hand to band, and received for answer, that he might find several other ways to end his life. UPTON. Most indisputably this is the sense of Plutarch, and given so in the modern translations; but Shakespeare was misled by the ambiguity of the old one. [6] Read: FARMER. Cæsar needs must think. RITSON. Let the survivor take all No composition, victory or death. JOHNSON. Enter Servants. Be bounteous at our meal.-Give me thy hand, Thou hast been rightly honest ;-so hast thou ;And thou ;-and thou,-and thou:-you have serv'd me well, And kings have been your fellows. Cleo. What means this? Eno. [Aside.] 'Tis one of those odd tricks, which sorrow shoots Out of the mind. Ant. And thou art honest too. I wish, I could be made so many men ; Serv. The gods forbid ! Ant. Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night: Scant not my cups; and make as much of me, As when mine empire was your fellow too, And suffer'd my command. Cleo. What does he mean? Eno. To make his followers weep. May be, it is the period of your duty; I turn you not away; but, like a master Eno. What mean you, sir, To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep; Transform us not to women. Ant. Ho, ho, ho!? [1] I have my eyes as full of tears as if they had been fretted by onions. JOHNSON. [2] That is, stop, or desist. So, in Chaucer, The Knightes Tale, v. 1706, edit. 1775: "This duk his courser with his sporres smote, And at a stert he was betwixt hem two, And pulled out a swerd, and cried, ho! No more, up paine of lesing of your hed." And in Myrrour of good Manners, Ambition is compared to "The sacke insatiable, The sacke without bottome, which never can say ho." H. WHITE. Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus ! . Grace grow where those drops fall! My hearty friends, You take me in too dolorous a sense : I spake to you for comfort; did desire you To burn this night with torches: Know, my hearts, Than death and honour. Let's to supper; come, SCENE III. [Exeunt. The same. Before the Palace. Enter two Soldiers to their guard. 1 Sold. Brother, good-night: to-morrow is the day. 2 Sold. It will determine one way: fare you well. Heard you of nothing strange about the streets ? 1 Sold. Nothing: What news? 2 Sold. Belike, 'tis but a rumour: Good night to you. 1 Sold. Well, sir, good night. Enter two other Soldiers. 2 Sold. Soldiers, Have careful watch. 3 Sold. And you: Good night, good night. [The first two place themselves at their posts. 4 Sold. Here we: [They take their posts.] and if to morrow Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope Our landmen will stand up. 3 Sold. 'Tis a brave army, And full of purpose. [Music of hautboys under the stage. 4 Sold. Peace, what noise? 1 Sold. List, list! 2 Sold. Hark! 1 Sold. Music i'the air, 3 Sold. Under the earth. 4 Sold. It signs well,* Does't not? 3 Sold. No. 1 Sold. Peace, I say. What should this mean? UPTON. [3] That is, an honourable death, STEEVENS 2 Sold. 'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony lov'd, Now leaves him. 1 Sold. Walk; let's see if other watchmen Do hear what we do. [They advance to another post. 2 Sold. How now, masters? Sold. How now ? How now ? do you hear this? 1 Sold. Ay; is't not strange? [Several speaking together. 3 Sold. Do you hear, masters? do you hear? 1 Sold. Follow the noise so far as we have quarter; Let's see how 'twill give off. Sold. [several speaking.] Content: 'Tis strange. [Exeunt. The same. SCENE IV. Enter ANTONY and A Room in the Palace. CLEOPATRA; CHARMIAN, and others, attending. Ant. Eros! mine armour, Eros ! Cleo. Sleep a little. Ant. No, my chuck.-Eros, come; mine armour, Eros ! Come, my good fellow, put thinę iron on :---- Cleo. Nay, I'll help too. What's this for? Ant. Ah, let be, let be! thou art The armourer of my heart :-False, false; this, this. Ant. Well, well; We shall thrive now.-See'st thou, my good fellow ? Eros. Briefly, sir.” Cleo. Is not this buckled well? Ant. Rarely, rarely: He that unbuckles this, till we do please |