Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers. Alex. We'll know all our fortunes. Eno. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall bedrunk to bed. Iras. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. Char. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear.-Prythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune. Sooth. Your fortunes are alike. Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars. Sooth. I have said. Iras. Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it? Iras. Not in my husband's nose. Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas,-come, his fortune, his fortune.-O, let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! And let her die too, and give him a worse! and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee! Iras. Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! for, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded; Therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly! Char. Amen. Alex. Lo, now! if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but they'd do't. Eno. Hush! here comes Antony. Char. Not he, the queen. Char. No, madam. Cleo. He was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden A Roman thought hath struck him.-Enobarbus, Eno. Madam. Cleo. Seek him, and bring him hither. Where's Alexas? Alex. Here, madam, at your service.-My lord approaches. Enter ANTONY, with a MESSENGER and Attendants. Cleo. We will not look upon him: Go with us. [Exeunt CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, ALEXAS, IBAS, CHARMIAN, SOOTHSAYER, and Attendants. Mess. Fulvia thy wife first came into the field. Ant. Against my brother Lucius ? Mess. Ay: But soon that war had end, and the time's state Made friends of them, joining their force 'gainst Cæsar Upon the first encounter, drave them. Ant. Well, What worst? Mess. The nature of bad news infects the teller. Mess. Labienus (This is stiff news) hath with his Parthian force, Extended Asia from Euphrates; His conquering banner shook, from Syria To Lydia, and to Ionia; Whilst Ant. Antony, thou would'st say,— Mess. O, my lord! Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue; Name Cleopatra as she's call'd in Rome: Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults With such full license, as both truth and malice Mess. At your noble pleasure. Ant. From Sicyon how the news ? Speak there. Ant. Let him appear, These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, Enter another MESSENGER. Or lose myself in dotage. What are you? 2 Mess. Fulvia thy wife is dead. Ant. Where died she? 2 Mess. In Sicyon: Her length of sickness, with what else more serious Ant. Forbear me. [Exit. [Gives a letter. [Exit MESSENGER. There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it: The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; Could here means would. Enter ENOBARBUS. Eno. What's your pleasure, Sir ? Ant. I must with haste from hence. Eno. Why, then, we kill all our women: We see how mortal an unkindness is to them; if they suffer our departure, death's the word. Ant. I must be gone. Eno. Under a compelling occasion, let women die: it were pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment: *I do think, there is mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such a celerity in dying. Ant. She is cunning past man's thought. Eno. Alack, Sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love: We cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacks can report: this cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove. Ant. 'Would I had never seen her! Eno. O, Sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of work; which not to have been blessed withal, would have discredited 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 pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth; comforting 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 case to be lamented: this grief is crowned with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new petticoat-and indeed, the tears live in an onion, that should water this sorrow. Ant. The business she hath broach'd in the state, Cannot endure my absence. Eno. And the business you have broached here cannot be without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode. Ant. No more light answers. Let our officers (Love's leave) The empire of the sea: our slippery people The sides o' the world may danger: Much is breeding, Our quick remove from hence. Eno. I shall do't. SCENE III. [Exeunt. Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS. Cleo. Where is he? Char. I did not see him since. Cleo. See where he is, who's with him, what he does : I did not send you;t-If you find him sad, Say, I am dancing; if in mirth, report That I am sudden sick: Quick, and return [Exit ALEXAS. Char. Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, You do not hold the method to enforce The like from him. Cleo. What should I do, I do not? Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in nothing. In time we hate that which we often fear. But here comes Antony. Enter ANTONY. Cleo. I am sick, and sullen. Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,- It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature Will not sustain it. Ant. Now, my dearest queen,— Cleo. Pray you, stand further from me. Ant. What's the matter? Cleo. I know, by that same eye, there's some good news. What says the married woman ?-You may go? 'Would, she had never given you leave to come! Let her not say, 'tis I that keep you here, I have no power upon you: hers you are. Ant. The gods best know, Cleo. O, never was there queen So mightily betray'd! Yet, at the first, I saw the treasons planted. • It was once thought that the hair of a horse, dropped into corrupt water, became an animal. + I.e. seem as though I did not send you Ant. Cleopatra, Cleo. Why should I think, you can be mine, and true, Ant. Most sweet queen, Cleo. Nay, pray you seek no colour for your going, Bliss in our brows' bent;* none our parts so poor, Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world, Art turn'd the greatest liar. Ant. How now, lady! Cleo. I would, I had thy inches; thou shouldst know, There were a heart in Egypt. Ant. Hear me, queen: The strong necessity of time commands Our services awhile; but my full heart Remains in use with you. Our Italy Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius Makes his approaches to the port of Rome: Equality of two domestic powers Breeds scrupulous faction: The hated grown to strength, Are newly grown to love: The condemn'd Pompey, Into the hearts of such as have not thrived Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten; 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 leisure, read Cleo. O most false love! Where be the sacred vials thou should'st fill In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be. Cleo. Cut my lace, Charmian, come; *Arch. + Flavour. § Render it not dangerous. + Gate. Commotion. |