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: 1 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. 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 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 broached 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. 1 Ant. No more light answers. Let our officers Have notice what we purpose: I shall break The cause of our expedience 1 to the queen, And get her love 2 to part: for not alone The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too Of many our contriving friends in Rome Petition us at home. Sextus Pompeius Hath given the dare to Cæsar, and commands The empire of the sea: our slippery people (Whose love is never link'd to the deserver, Till his deserts are past) begin to throw Pompey the great, and all his dignities, Upon his son; who, high in name and power, Higher than both in blood and life, stands up For the main soldier; whose quality, going on, The sides o' the world may danger. Much is breeding, Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life,1 Eno. I shall do 't. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS. Cle. Where is he? Char. I did not see him since. Cle. See where he is, who's with him, what he does :- I did not send you: 2_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. Cle. What should I do, I do not? Char. In each thing give him way; cross him in nothing. Cle. Thou teachest like a fool: the way to lose him. 1 In allusion to an old idle notion, that the hair of a horse, dropped into corrupted water, will turn to an animal. 2 Appear as if I did not send you. Char. Tempt him not so too far: I wish, forbear; In time we hate that which we often fear. Enter ANTONY. But here comes Antony. Cle. I am sick and sullen. Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my pur pose, Cle. Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall: It cannot be thus long; the sides of nature Will not sustain it. Ant. Now, my dearest queen, What's the matter? Cle. Pray you, stand farther from me. Ant. Cle. I know, by that same eye, there's some good news. What says the married woman?—You may go : Cle. O, never was there queen So mightily betray'd! Yet, at the first, Ant. Cleopatra ! Cle. Why should I think, you can be mine, and true, Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, Which break themselves in swearing! Ant. Most sweet queen!. Cle. Nay, pray you, seek no color for your going; But 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; 1 none our parts so poor, But was a race of heaven: 2 they are so still, Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world, Art turn'd the greatest liar. Ant. How now, lady? Cle. 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 Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius Equality of two domestic powers 3 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 1 In the arch of our eyebrows. Gate. |