Ant. Now, my deareft Queen, Cleo. Pray you, ftand farther from me. Cleo. I know, by that fame eye, there's fome good news. What fays the marry'd woman? you may go; Cleo. O, never was there Queen So mightily betray'd; yet at the firft Ant. Cleopatra, Cleo. Why fhould I think, you can be mine, and true, Though you with fwearing fhake the throned Gods, Who have been falfe to Fulvia? riotous madness, To be entangled with thefe mouth-made vows, Which break themfelves in fwearing! Ant. Moft fweet Queen, Cleo. Nay, pray you, feek no colour for Blifs in our brows' bent, none our parts fo poor, Art turn'd the greatest liar. Ant. How, now, lady? Cleo. I would I had thy inches, thou should'st know, There were a heart in Egypt. Ant. Hear me, Queen; The ftrong neceffity of time commands Our fervices a-while; but my full heart Remains in ufe with you. Our Italy 'Shines o'er with civil fwords; Sextus Pompeius Makes his approaches to the port of Rome. Equality of two domeftick pow'rs Breeds fcrupulous faction; the hated, grown to ftrength, Are Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey, Upon the prefent ftåte, whofe numbers threaten; Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me freedom, It does from childifhnefs. Can Fulvia die? Ant. She's dead, my Queen. Look here, and at thy fovereign leifure read Cleo. O moft falfe love! Where be the facred vials thou fhouldft fill (4) -My more particular, And that which most with you should fave my Going, Thus all the more modern Editions: the first and fecond Folio's read, fafe: All corruptedly. Antony is giving feveral Reafons to Cleopatra, which make his Departure from Egypt abfolutely neceffary; most of them, Reafons of State; but the Death of Fulvia, his Wife, was a particular and private Call, which demanded his Prefence in Italy. But the printed Copies would rather make us believe, that Fulvia's Death fhould prevent, or fave him the Trouble of going. The Text, in this refpect, I dare engage, runs counter to its Master's Meaning. Cleopatra is jealous of Antony's Abfence and fufpicious that he is feeking Colours for his Going. Antony replies to her Doubts, with the Reasons that obliged him to be abfent for a Time; and tells her, that, as his Wife Fulvia is dead, and fo fhe has no Rival to be jealous of, that Circumftance fhould be his best Plea and Excufe, and have the greatest Weight with her for his going. Who does not fee now, that it ought to be read as I have reform'd the Text? That That quickens Nilus' flime, I go from hence Cleo. Cut my lace, Charmian, come; But let it be, I'm quickly ill, and well,, So, Antony loves. Ant. My precious Queen, forbear, And give true evidence to his love, which stands Cleo. So Fulvia told me. I pr'ythee, turn afide, and weep for her; Ant. You'll heat my blood; no more. Cleo. You can do better yet; but this is meetly. Cleo. And targetStill he mends: But this is not the beft. Look, pr'ythee, Charmian, How this Herculean Roman does become The carriage of his chafe. Ant. I'll leave you, lady. Cleo. Courteous Lord, one word; Sir, you and I niuft part; (but that's not it,) Sir, you and I have lov'd; (but there's not it; That you know well;) fomething it is, I would: And I am all forgotten. Ant. But that your royalty Holds idleness your fubject, I should take you Cleo. "Tis fweating labour, To bear fuch idlenefs fo near the heart; Ε Be Be ftrew'd before your feet! Ant. Let us go; come, Our feparation fo abides and flies, That thou, refiding here, goeft yet with me, [Exeunt. SCENE changes to Cæfar's Palace in Rome. Enter Octavius Cæfar reading a letter, Lepidus, and Y attendants. Caf.OU may fee, Lepidus, and henceforth know, Lep. I must not think, They're evils enough to darken all his goodness; Caf. You're too indulgent. Let us grant, it is not Amiís to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy, To give a kingdom for a mirth, to fit And keep the turn of tipling with a flave, To reel the ftreets at noon; and ftand the buffet With knaves that smell of fweat; fay, this becomes him; (As his compofure muft be rare, indeed, Whom these things cannot blemish ;) yet muft Antony That That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud As we rate boys, who, being mature in knowledge, Enter a Meffenger. Lep. Here's more news. Mef. Thy biddings have been done; and every hour, Moft noble Cafar, fhalt thou have report How 'tis abroad. Pompey is ftrong at fea, And, it appears, he is belov'd of those That only have fear'd Cæfar: to the ports The difcontents repair, and mens reports Give him much wrong'd. Caf. I fhould have known no less; It hath been taught us from the primal state, (5) And the ebb'd man, ne'er lov'd till ne'er worth love, Goes to, and back, lacquying the varying tide, (6) 1 (5) It hath been taught us from the primal State, And the ebb'd Man, ne'er lov'd till ne'er worth Love, Mef. Let us examine the Senfe of this in plain Profe. "The earlieft "Hiftories inform us, that the Man in fupreme Command was "always wished to gain that Command, till he had obtained it. "And he, whom the multitude has contentedly feen in a low Con"dition, when he begins to be wanted by them, becomes to be fear'd by them". But do the Multitude fear a Man, because they want him? Certainly, we must read; Comes dear'd, by being lack'd. i. e. endeared, a Favourite to them. Befides, the Context requires this Reading; for it was not Fear, but Love, that made the People flock to Young Pompey, and that he occafioned this Reflection. (6) Goes to, and back, lafhing the varying Tide, To rat itself with Motion, E 2 Mr. Warburton. How |