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As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
It beggar'd all description: she did lie
In her pavilion (cloth of gold, of tissue,)
O'er-picturing that Venus, where we see

The fancy out-work nature: on each side her,
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With diverse-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid, did.

Agr.

O, rare for Antony! Eno. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i'the eyes, And made their bends adornings: at the helm A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame2 the office. From the barge A strange invisible pérfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her; and Antony, Enthron'd in the market place, did sit alone, Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy, Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra tco,

And made a gap in nature.

Agr.

Rare Egyptian!

Eno. Upon her landing, Antony sent to her,
Invited her to supper: she replied,

It should be better, he became her guest;
Which she entreated: Our courteous Antony,
Whom ne'er the word of No woman heard speak,
Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast;
And, for his ordinary, pays his heart,

For what his eyes eat only.

Agr.

Royal wench! She made great Cæsar lay his sword to bed; He plough'd her, and she cropp'd.

Eno.

I saw her once

(1) Added to the warmth they were intended to diminish.

(2) Readily perform.

Hop forty paces through the public street:
And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted,
That she did make defect, perfection,

And, breathless, power breathe forth.

Mac. Now Antony must leave her utterly.
Eno. Never; he will not;

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety: Other women

Cloy th' appetites they feed; but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies. For vilest things
Become themselves in her; that the holy priests
Bless her, when she's riggish.1

Mac. If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle The heart of Antony, Octavia is

A blessed lottery2 to him.

Agr.

Let us go.

Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest,
Whilst you abide here.

Eno.

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Humbly, sir, I thank you.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The same. A room in Cæsar's house. Enter Cæsar, Antony, Octavia between them; Attendants, and a Soothsayer.

Ant. The world, and my great office, will some

times

Divide me from your bosom.

Octa.

All which time

Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers
To them for you.

Ant.
Good night, sir.-My Octavia,
Read not my blemishes in the world's report:
I have not kept my square; but that to come
Shall all be done by the rule. Good night, dear
lady.-

Octa. Good night, sir.

Caes. Good night. [Exeunt Cæsar and Octavia. Ant. Now, sirrah! you do wish yourself in Egypt?

(1) Wanton.

(2) Allotment.

Sooth. 'Would I had never come from thence,

Thither!

nor you

Ant. If you can, your reason?
Sooth.

I see't in

My motion, have it not in my tongue : But yet
Hie you again to Egypt.

Ant.

Say to me,

Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Cæsar's, or mine?
Sooth. Cæsar's.

Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side:
Thy dæmon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is
Noble, courageous, high, unmatchable,

Where Cæsar is not; but near him, thy angel
Becomes a Fear, as being o'erpower'd; therefore
Make space enough between you.

Ant.

Speak this no more.

Sooth. To none but thee; no more, but when to

thee.

If thou dost play with him at any game,

Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck, He beats thee 'gainst the odds; thy lustre thickens, When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit

Is all afraid to govern thee near him;

But, he away, 'tis noble.

Ant.

Get thee gone :

Say to Ventidius, I would speak with him:

:

[Exit Soothsayer. He shall to Parthia.-Be it art, or hap, He hath spoken true: The very dice obey him; And, in our sports, my better cunning faints Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds: His cocks do win the battle still of mine, When it is all to nought; and his quails' ever Beat mine, inhoop'd,2 at odds. I will to Egypt: And though I make this marriage for my peace,

(1) The ancients used to match quails as we match cocks.

(2) Inclosed.

Enter Ventidius.

I' the east my pleasure lies:-0, come, Ventidius, You must to Parthia; your commission's ready : and receive it.

Follow me,

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-The same. A street. Enter Lepidus, Mæcenas, and Agrippa.

Lep. Trouble yourselves no further: pray you, hasten

Your generals after.

Agr.

Sir, Mark Antony

Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow.
Lep. Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress,
Which will become you both, farewell.

Mac.

As I conceive the journey, be at mount!
Before you, Lepidus.

Lep.

My purposes do draw me much about;
You'll win two days upon me.

Mac. Agr.

Lep. Farewell.

We shall,

Your way is shorter,

Sir, good success

[Exeunt

SCENE V-Alexandria. A room in the palace Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas. Cleo. Give me some music; music, moody2 food Of us that trade in love.

Attend.

The music, ho!

Enter Mardian.

Cleo. Let it alone; let us to billiards. Come, Charmian.

Char. My arm is sore, best play with Mardian Cleo As well a woman with an eunuch play'd, As with a woman ;-Come, you'll play with me, sir? Mar. As well as I can, madam.

Cleo. And when good will is show'd, though it come too short,

(1) Mount Misenum.

(2) Melancholy.

The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now :-
Give me mine angle,-We'll to the river: there,
My music 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?

(1) Head-dress. (2) So sour a countenance.

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