By any desperate change. My more particular, And that which most with you should safe my going,1

Is Fulvia's death.

Cle. 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
The garboils she awaked; at the last, best:
See, when and where she died.

O most false love!

Cle.
Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill
With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,

In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know
The purposes I bear, which are, or cease,

As you
shall give the advice. By the fire
That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence,
Thy soldier, servant; making peace or war,
As thou affect'st.

Cle.

But let it be.I am quickly ill and well:

So Antony loves.

Ant.

Cut my lace, Charmian, come;

My precious queen, forbear;

And give true evidence to his love, which stands
An honorable trial.

Cle.

So Fulvia told me.

I pr'ythee, turn aside, and weep for her;

1 Should reconcile you to my departure.

2 Tumults.

Then bid adieu to me, and say, the tears

Belong to Egypt.1 Good now, play one scene
Of excellent dissembling; and let it look

Like perfect honor.

Ant.

You'll heat my blood; no more.

Cle. You can do better yet; but this is meetly.

Ant. Now, by my sword,

Cle.

And target :-still he mends;

But this is not the best. Look, pr'ythee, Charmian,

How this Herculean Roman does become

The carriage of his chafe.

Ant. I'll leave you, lady.

Cle.

Courteous lord, one word.

Sir, you and I must part,-but that's not it:

Sir, you and I have loved,—but there's not it; That you know well. Something it is I would :— O, my oblivion 2 is a very Antony,

And I am all forgotten.

Ant.

But that your royalty

you

Holds idleness your subject, I should take
For idleness itself.

Cle.

'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 do not
Eye well to you. Your honor calls you hence;
Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly,

And all the gods go with you! upon your sword

1 i. e. to me, the queen of Egypt.

2 Oblivious memory.

Sit laurel victory, and smooth success
Be strew'd before your feet!

Ant.

Let us go. Come;

Our separation so abides and flies,

That thou, residing here, goest yet with me,
And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.

Away!

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Rome. An apartment in Cæsar's house.

Enter OCTAVIUS CÆSAR, LEPIDUS, and Attendants.

Ca. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, It is not Cæsar's natural vice to hate

One great competitor. From Alexandria

This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes The lamps of night in revel; is not more manlike Than Cleopatra, nor the queen Ptolemy

More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or Vouchsafed to think he had partners. You shall find there

A man, who is the abstract of all faults

That all men follow.

Lep.

I must not think there are

Evils enough to darken all his goodness:
His faults, in him, seem as the spots of heaven,
More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary,
Rather than purchased; 1 what he cannot change,

' Procured by his own fault.

Than what he chooses.

Ca. You are too indulgent. Let us grant, it is

not

Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy;

To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit

And keep the turn of tippling with a slave;

To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet

With knaves that smell of sweat: say, this becomes

him,

(As his composure must be rare indeed,

Whom these things cannot blemish) yet must An

tony

No way excuse his soils, when we do bear

So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd
His vacancy with his voluptuousness,

Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones

Call on him1 for 't: but, to confound 2 such time, That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud As his own state and ours;-'tis to be chid

As we rate boys; who, being mature in knowlege, Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, And so rebel to judgment.

Lep.

Enter MESSENGER.

Here's more news.

Mes. Thy biddings have been done; and every

hour,

Most noble Cæsar, shalt thou have report

1 Visit him.

2 Waste.

How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea;
And it appears, he is beloved of those
That only have fear'd Cæsar: to the ports
The discontents repair, and men's reports
Give him much wrong'd.

Cœ.

I should have known no less :

It hath been taught us from the primal state,
That he, which is, was wish'd, until he were ;

And the ebb'd man, ne'er loved till ne'er worth love,
Comes dear'd 1 by being lack'd. This common

body,

Like a vagabond flag upon the stream,

Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide,

To rot itself with motion.

Mes. Cæsar, I bring thee word, Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,

Make the sea serve them, which they ear

wound

With keels of every kind. Many hot inroads

They make in Italy; the borders maritime

4

3 and

Lack blood to think on 't, and flush youth revolt:
No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon

Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more
Than could his war resisted.

Ca.

Antony,

When thou once

Leave thy lascivious wassels.5

1 Becomes endeared.

2 Floating backwards and forwards with the variation of

the tide, like a page or lackey at his master's heels.

3 Plough.

4 Turn pale.

5 Intemperance.