ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. (WRITTEN ABOUT 1607.) INTRODUCTION. This play, though by the person of Antony it connects itself with ulius Cæsar, is a striking con trast to it in subject and style, and is separated from it in the chronological order by a wide interval. In May of the year 1608, Blount (afterwards one of the publishers of the First Folio) entered in the Stationers' register 4 Book called Antony and Cleopatra. This was probably Shakespeare's tragedy. The source of the play is the life of Antonius in North's Piutarch. Shakespeare had found in Plutarch his Brutus almost ready made to his hand; he deemed it necessary to transform and transfigure the Antony of history, stained as he is not only by crimes of voluptuousness but of cruelty. "Of all Shakespeare's historical plays," says Coleridge, Antony and Cleopatra is by far the most wonderful," and he calls attention to what he terms its "happy valiancy of style. Shakespeare, indeed, nowhere seems a greater master of a great dramatic theme. The moral ideals, the doctrines, the stoical habits and stoical philosophy of Brutus and Portia, are as remote as possible from the sensuous splendors of the life in Egypt, from Antony's careless magnificence of strength, and the beauty, the arts, and the endless variety of Cleopatra. Yet, though the tragedy has all the glow and color of oriental magnificence, it remains true at heart to the moral laws which govern human life. The worship of pleasure by the Egyptian queen and her paramour is, after all, a failure, even from the first. There is no true confidence, no steadfast strength of love possible between Antony and his "serpent of old Nile." Each inspires the other with a mastering spirit of fascination, but Antony knows not the moment when Cleopatra may be faithless to him, and Cleopatra weaves her endless snares to retain her power over Antony. The great Roman soldier gradually loses his energy, his judgment, and even his joy in life; at last, the despair of spent forces settles down upon him, and it is only out of despair that he snatches strength enough to fight fiercely when driven to bay. He is the ruin of Cleopatra's magic. Upon Cleopatra herself the genius of Shakespeare has been lavished. She is the most wonderful of his creations of women, formed of the greatest number of elements-apparently conflicting elements, yet united by the mystery of life. While creating, with so much imaginative ardor, his Cleopatra, Shakespeare yet stands away from her, and, in a manner, criticises her. Enobarbus, who sees through every wile and guile of the Queen, is, as it were, a chorus to the play, a looker-on at the game; he stands clear of the golden haze which makes up the atmosphere around Cleopatra; and yet he is not a mere critic or commentator (Shakespeare never permitting the presence of a person in his drama who is not a true portion of it). Enobarbus himself is under the influence of the charm of Antony, and slays himself because he has wronged his master. The figures of Antony and the Queen are ennobled and elevated by the strong power of attraction, even of devotion, which they exert over those about them-Antony over Enobarbus, Cleopatra over her attendants, Charmian and Iras. MENECRATES, friends to Pompey. A Clown. CLEOPATRA, queen of Egypt. OCTAVIA, sister to Cæsar and wife to Antony. IRAS, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants. SCENE: In several parts of the Roman empire. ACT I. SCENE I. Alexandria. A room in Cleopatra's palace. Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO. Phi. Nay, but this dotage of our general's O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes, That o'er the files and musters of the war Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn, The office and devotion of their view Flourish. Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, her Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much. Ant. There's beggary in the love that can be reckon❜d. Att. News, my good lord, from Rome. Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that; say? both? Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's queen, Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony Will be himself. Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra. Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours, Let's not confound the time with conference harsh : There's not a minute of our lives should stretch Without some pleasure now. What sport tonight? Cleo. Hear the ambassadors. Ant. Fie, wrangling queen! Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, To weep; whose every passion fully strives 50 To make itself, in thee, fair and admired! No messenger, but thine; and all alone To-night we'll wander through the streets and note The qualities of people. Come, my queen; Last night you did desire it: speak not to us. [Exeunt Ant. and Cleo. with their train. Dem. Is Cæsar with Antonius prized so slight? Phi. Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony, He comes too short of that great property Which still should go with Antony. Dem. I am full sorry That he approves the common liar, who 60 Thus speaks of him at Rome but I will hope Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy! [Exeunt. Another room. SCENE II. The same. Show him your hand. 10 Enter ENOBARBUS. Eno. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough Cleopatra's health to drink. Char. Good sir, give me good fortune. Char. Pray, then, foresee me one. Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer than you Char. O excellent! I love long life better than figs. [former fortune Sooth. You have seen and proved a fairer Than that which is to approach. Char. Then belike my children shall have no names: prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have? Sooth. If every of your wishes had a womb, And fertile every wish, a million. Char. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. Alex. You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers. Alex. We'll know all our fortunes. 41 Eno. Mine, and most of our fortunes, tonight, shall be-drunk to bed. Iras. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. Char. E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine. Was he not here? 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, at your service. My lord ap 50 Iras. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. Char. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee, tell her but a worky-day fortune. Sooth. Your fortunes are alike. Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars. 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! 0, 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 worst 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 heartbreaking 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. 79 Things that are past are done with me. thus: This is stiff news-hath, with his Parthian force, Extended Asia from Euphrates; His conquering banner shook from Syria Ant. Antony, thou wouldst say,- O, my lord! Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue : Name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome, 110 Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults With such full license as both truth and malice Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds, When our quick minds lie still; and our ills 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 hat such a celerity in dying. Ant. She is cunning past man's thought. 150 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 almanacs 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 blest withal would have áiscredited your travel. Ant. Fulvia is dead. Eno. Sir? Ant. Fulvia is dead. Eno. Fulvia ! 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 Zout there are members to make new. If then. 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. [state Ant. The business she hath broached in the Cannot endure my absence. 179 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 offi cers 190 Have notice what we purpose. I shall break Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and Cleo. Where is he? I did not send you: if you find him sad, You do not hold the method to enforce Cleo. Cleo. Thou teachest like a fool; the way to lose him. forbear: 10 Char. Tempt him not so too far; I wish Ant. I am sorry to purpose, I am sick and sullen. give breathing to my Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall : It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature Ant. What says the married woman? You may go: 20 Would she had never given you leave to come ! Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here: O, never was there queen Cleopatra, Cleo. Why should I think you can be mine and true, Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, [ness, Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madTo be entangled with those mouth made vows, Which break themselves in swearing! 31 Ant. Most sweet queen, Cleo. Nay, pray you, seek no color for your going, Lut bid farewell, and go when you sued staying, Then was the time for words: no going then; Eternity was in our lips and eyes, Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so So Fulvia told me. I prithee, turn aside and weep for her; Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears Belong to Egypt: good now, play one scene Of excellent dissembling; and let it look Life perfect honor. Ant. You'll heat my blood: no more. 80 Cleo. You can do better yet; but this is meetly. Ant. Now, by my sword, Cleo. And target. Still he mends; But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Char mian, How this Herculean Roman does become The carriage of his chafe. Ant. I'll leave you, lady. Cleo. Courteous lord, one word. 90 Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it: Cleo. 'Tis sweating labor To bear such idleness so near the heart As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me; Since my becomings kill me, when they de not Eye well to you: your honor calls you hence; |