Would, she had never given you leave to come!
Let her not say, 'tis I that keep you here,
I have no power upon you; hers you are.
Ant. The gods best know,-

Cleo.

O! never was there queen

So mightily betray'd; yet at the first

I saw the treasons planted.

Ant.

Cleopatra,―

Cleo. 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,

Cleo. Nay, pray you, seek no colour 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; none our parts so poor,
But was a race of heaven: they are so still,
Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,
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.

Hear me, queen.

Ant.
The strong necessity of time commands

Our services a while, but my full heart
Remains in use with you. Our Italy

Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius

Makes his approaches to the port of Rome:

Equality of two domestic powers

Breeds scrupulous faction. The hated, grown to strength,

Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey,

Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace

Into the hearts of such as have not thriv'd
Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;
And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge
By any desperate change. My more particular,
And that which most with you should safe my going,
Is Fulvia's death.

Cleo. 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 awak'd; at the last, best,
See, when, and where she died.

O most false love!

Cleo.
Where be the sacred vials thou should'st fill
With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,
In Fulvia's death, how mine receiv'd shall be.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd 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.

Cleo.

Cut my lace, Charmian, come.

But let it be. I am quickly ill, and well,
So Antony loves'.

The GARBOILS she awak'd ;] "Garboils" was a common word for commotions in the time of Shakespeare; it occurs again afterwards, p. 31; and it was used by the best authors, although Stanihurst fell under the ridicule of Hall, in his 6th satire, of book i.

"Manhood and garboils shall he chant with changed feet." Stanihurst employs the word in the opening of his English-hexameter translation of the Æneid, 1584, in the line,

Now, manhood and garboils I chaunt, and martial horror.” We quote from the beautiful reprint of this very rare and curious work, made at Edinburgh in 1836, we believe, under the editorial superintendence of Mr. Maidment. Scotland has contributed her full share of valuable works of this description.

7 - I am quickly ill, and well,

So Antony loves.] i. e. Probably, "I am quickly ill or well, according as Antony loves me." First Cleopatra tells Charmian to cut her lace, then to "let VOL. VIII.

C

Ant.

My precious queen, forbear;

And give true evidence to his love, which stands

An honourable trial.

Cleo.

So Fulvia told me.

I pr'ythee, 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
Like perfect honour.

Ant.

Cleo. You can do better yet, but this is meetly.

You'll heat my blood: no more.

Look, pr'ythee, Charmian,

Ant. Now, by my swords,

Cleo.

But this is not the best.

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 must part,—but that's not it:
Sir, you and I have lov'd,—but there's not it;
That you know well: something it is I would,—
O! my oblivion is a very Antony,

And I am all forgotten.

Ant.

But that your royalty

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

Cleo.

"Tis sweating labour

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 honour calls you hence;
Therefore, be deaf to my unpitied folly,
And all the gods go with you! upon your sword

it be," the necessity being at an end, in consequence, perhaps, of receiving some indication of love from Antony.

8 Now, by My sword.] "My" is omitted in the folio, 1623, but added in the folio, 1632.

Sit laurel'd 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, go'st yet with me,
And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.
Away!

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Rome. An Apartment in CÆSAR's House.

Enter OCTAVIUS CESAR, LEPIDUS, and Attendants.

Cæs. 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 of Ptolemy

More womanly than he hardly gave audience, or Vouchsaf'd 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 enow to darken all his goodness:
His faults, in him, seem as the spots of heaven,
More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary,
Rather than purchas'd; what he cannot change,
Than what he chooses.

9 Sit LAUREL'D victory,]

"Laurel'd victory" is the emendation of the folio, 1632: that of 1623 has "laurel victory." In all probability the letter d had dropped out in the press.

VOUCHSAF'D to think-] Vouchsafe in the folio, 1623, which the folio, 1632, altered to "did vouchsafe."

Cæs. 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 Antony
No way excuse his foils', 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 him for't; but, to confound 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 knowledge,
Pawn their experience to their present pleasure,
And so rebel to judgment.

Lep.

Enter a Messenger.

Here's more news.

Mess. Thy biddings have been done; and every hour,

Most noble Cæsar, shalt thou have report

How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea;
And it appears, he is belov'd of those

That only have fear'd Cæsar: to the ports
The discontents repair, and men's reports
Give him much wrong'd.

Cæs.

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 ;

2 No way excuse his FOILS,] Our reading is that of the folio, 1623, and of all the subsequent editions in that form. Malone and modern editors have altered "foils" to soils, without sufficient necessity: the "foils" of Antony are his vices, his foibles, which injure the beauty of his character, and foil or defeat the exercise of his virtues. At the same time it must be allowed, that "foils" for soils would be a very easy misprint, the long s and the ƒ being frequently mistaken.