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The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now:-
Give me mine angle,-We'll to the river: there,
My musick playing far off, I will betray
Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce
Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up,

I'll think them every one an Antony,

And say, Ah, ha! you're caught.

Char.

'Twas merry, when

You wager'd on your angling; when your diver
Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he
With fervency drew up.

Cleo.

That time!-0 times!

I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night
I laugh'd him into patience: and next morn,
Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed;
Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst
I wore his sword Philippan. O! from Italy;

Enter a Messenger.

Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,
That long time have been barren.

Mess.

Cleo. Antony's dead?—

Madam, madam,

If thou say so, villain, thou kill'st thy mistress:

But well and free,

If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here

My bluest veins to kiss; a hand, that kings
Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing.

Mess.

First, madam, he's well.

Cleo. Why, there's more gold. But, sirrah, mark

we use

To say, the dead are well: bring it to that,

The gold I give thee, will I melt, and pour

Down thy ill-uttering throat.

Mess. Good madam, hear me.

Cleo.

Well, go to, I will;

But there's no goodness in thy face: If Antony

;

Be free, and healthful,-why so tart a favour
To trumpet such good tidings? If not well,
Thou should'st come like a fury crown'd with snakes,
Not like a formal man.

Mess.

Will't please you, hear me?

Cleo. I have a mind to strike thee, ere thou speak'st:

Yet, if thou say, Antony lives, is well,

Or friends with Cæsar, or not captive to him,

I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail

Rich pearls upon thee.

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Mess. Cæsar and he are greater friends than ever.

Cleo. Make thee a fortune from me.

Mess. But yet, madam,

Cleo. I do not like but yet, it does allay

The good precedence'; fye upon but yet:

But yet is as a gaoler to bring forth

Some monstrous malefactor. Pr'ythee, friend,

Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear,

The good and bad together: He's friends with Cæsar; In state of health, thou say'st; and, thou say'st, free. Mess. Free, madam! no; I made no such report: He's bound unto Octavia.

Cleo.

Mess. For the best turn i'the bed.

Cleo.

For what good turn?

I am pale, Charmian.

[Strikes him down.

Mess. Madam, he's married to Octavia.

Cleo. The most infectious pestilence upon thee!

Mess. Good madam, patience.

8 Not like a formal man.] i. e. a man in form, i. e. shape. You should come in the form of a fury, and not in the form of a man.

9

it does allay

The good precedence ;] i. e. abates the good quality of what is already reported.

Cleo.

What say you?-Hence, [Strikes him again.

Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes

Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head;

[She hales him up and down.

Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine, Smarting in ling'ring pickle.

Mess.

Gracious madam,

I, that do bring the news, made not the match.

Cleo. Say, 'tis not so, a province I will give thee,
And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst
Shall make thy peace, for moving me to rage;

And I will boot thee with what gift beside
Thy modesty can beg.

Mess.

He's married, madam.

Cleo. Rogue, thou hast liv'd too long.

Mess.

[Draws a dagger. Nay, then I'll run :

What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. [Exit. Char. Good madam, keep yourself within yourself; The man is innocent.

Cleo. Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt.— Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures Turn all to serpents!-Call the slave again; Though I am mad, I will not bite him :-Call. Char. He is afeard to come.

Cleo. I will not hurt him :These hands do lack nobility, that they strike A meaner than myself'; since I myself Have given myself the cause.-Come hither, sir.

1 These hands do lack nobility, that they strike

A meaner than myself;] Perhaps here was intended an indirect censure of queen Elizabeth, for her unprincely and unfeminine treatment of the amiable earl of Essex. The play was probably not produced till after her death, when a stroke at her proud and passionate demeanour to her courtiers and maids of honour (for her majesty used to chastise them too) might be safely

Re-enter Messenger.

Though it be honest, it is never good

To bring bad news: Give to a gracious message
An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell

Themselves, when they be felt.

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Cleo. The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there

still?

Mess. Should I lie, madam?

Cleo.
O, I would, thou didst;
So half my Egypt were submerg'd', and made
A cistern for scal'd snakes! Go, get thee hence:
Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me

Thou would'st appear most ugly. He is married?
Mess. I crave your highness' pardon.

Cleo.

He is married? Mess. Take no offence, that I would not offend you: To punish me for what you make me do,

Seems much unequal: He is married to Octavia.

Cleo. O, that his fault should make a knave of thee, Thou art not!-What? thou'rt sure of't †?-Get thee

hence :

The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome,
Are all too dear for me; Lie they upon thy hand,
And be undone by 'em!

[Exit Messenger.

hazarded. In a subsequent part of this scene there is (as Dr. Grey has observed) an evident allusion to Elizabeth's enquiries concerning the person of her rival, Mary, queen of Scots. MALONE.

—were submerg'd,] Submerg'd is whelmed under water. "Thou art not what thou'rt sure of."-MALOne.

Char.

Good your highness, patience.

Cleo. In praising Antony, I have disprais'd Cæsar.

Char. Many times, madam.

Cleo.

Lead me from hence,

I am paid for't now,

I faint; O Iras, Charmian,-'Tis no matter:-
Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him

Report the feature of Octavia, her years,
Her inclination, let him not leave out

The colour of her hair :-bring me word quickly.—

[Exit ALEXAS.

Let him for ever go':-Let him not-Charmian,
Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,
T'other way he's a Mars:-Bid you Alexas

[TO MARDIAN. Bring me word, how tall she is.-Pity me, Charmian, But do not speak to me.-Lead me to my chamber.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

Near Misenum.

Enter POMPEY and MENAS, at one side, with Drum and Trumpet: at another, CESAR, LEPIDUS, ANTONY, ENOBARBUS, MECENAS, with Soldiers marching.

Pom. Your hostages I have, so have you mine; And we shall talk before we fight.

Cæs.

Most meet,

That first we come to words; and therefore have we
Our written purposes before us sent;

Which, if thou hast consider'd, let us know

3

the feature of Octavia,] By feature seems to be meant the cast and make of her face. Feature, however, anciently appears to have signified beauty in general.

4 Let him for ever go :] She is now talking in broken sentences, not of the messenger, but of Antony. JOHNSON.

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