I kifs his conquering hand: tell him, I am prompt
To lay my crown at his feet, and there to kneel:
Tell him, from his all-obeying breath I hear
The doom of Egypt.

Thyr. 'Tis

your nobleft course.

Wifdom and fortune combating together,

If that the former dare but what it can,
No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay
My duty on your hand.

Cleo. Your Cæfar's father oft,

When he hath mus'd of taking kingdoms in,
Beftow'd his lips on that unworthy place,
As it rain'd kiffes.

Re-enter ANTONY, and ENOBARBUS.
Ant. Favours, by Jove that thunders !—
What art thou, fellow?

Thyr. One, that but performs

The bidding of the fullest man, and worthieft
To have command obey'd.

Eno. You will be whipp'd.

Ant. Approach, there:-Ah, you kite!-Now gods and devils!

Authority melts from me: Of late, when I cry'd, ho!
Like boys unto a mufs, kings would start forth,
And cry, Your will? Have you no ears? I

Enter Attendants.

am

Antony yet. Take hence this Jack, and whip him. Eno. 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp,

Than with an old one dying.

Ant. Moon and stars!

Whip him :-Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries That do acknowledge Cæfar, fhould I find them

So

So faucy with the hand of she here, (What's her name,
Since fhe was Cleopatra ?)-Whip him, fellows,
'Till, like a boy, you fee him cringe his face,
And whine aloud for mercy: Take him hence,
Thyr. Mark Antony,-

Ant. Tug him away: being whipp'd,

Bring him again :-This Jack of Cæfar's fhall
Bear us an errand to him.-

[Exeunt Attendants, with THYREUS,
You were half blafted ere I knew you :-Ha!
Have I my pillow left unprefs'd in Rome,
Forborne the getting of a lawful race,
And by a gem of women, to be abus'd
By one that looks on feeders?

Cleo. Good my lord,

Ant. You have been a boggler ever:But when we in our vicioufnefs grow hard, (O mifery on't!) the wife gods feel our eyes; In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us Adore our errors; laugh at us, while we strut To our confufion.

Cleo. O, is it come to this?

Ant. I found you as a morfel, cold upon
Dead Cæfar's trencher: nay, you were a fragment
Of Cneius Pompey's; befides what hotter hours,
Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have

Luxuriously pick'd out :-For, I am fure,
Though you can guess what temperance fhould be,
You know not what it is.

'Cleo. Wherefore is this?

Ant. To let a fellow that will take rewards,
And fay, God quit you! be familiar with
My play-fellow, your hand; this kingly seal,
And plighter of high hearts!-O, that I were

Upon

Upon the hill of Bafan, to out-roar

The horned herd! for I have favage cause ;
And to proclaim it civilly, were like

A halter'd neck, which does the hangman thank
For being yare about him.-Is he whipp'd?

Re-enter Attendants, with THYREUS.

1 Att. Soundly, my lord.

Ant. Cry'd he? and begg'd he pardon?

1 Att. He did afk favour.

Ant. If that thy father live, let him repent Thou waft not made his daughter; and be thou forry To follow Cæfar in his triumph, fince

Thou haft been whipp'd for following him: henceforth,
The white hand of a lady fever thee,

Shake thee to look on't.-Get thee back to Cæfar,
Tell him thy entertainment: Look, thou fay,
He makes me angry with him: for he feems
Proud and difdainful; harping on what I am,
Nor what he knew I was: He makes me angry;
And at this time moft eafy 'tis to do't;

When
my good stars, that were my former guides,
Have empty left their orbs, and fhot their fires
Into the abifm of hell.

If he mislike

My Ipeech, and what is done; tell him, he has
Hipparchus, my enfranchis'd bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he fhall like, to quit me: Urge it thou:
Hence with thy ftripes, begone. [Exit THYREUS.
Cleo. Have you done yet?

Ant. Alack, our terrene moon

Is now eclips'd; and it portends alone

The fall of Antony!

Cleo. I muft ftay his time.

Ant.

Ant. To flatter Cæfar, would you mingle eyes With one that ties his points?

Cleo. Not know me yet?

Ant. Cold-hearted toward me?
Cleo. Ah, dear, if I be so,

From my cold heart let heaven engender hail,
And poifon it in the fource; and the first stone
Drop in my neck: as it determines, fo
Diffolve my life! The next Cæfarion fmite!
"Till, by degrees, the memory of my womb,
Together with my brave Ægyptians all,
By the difcandying of this pelleted storm,
Lie gravelefs; 'till the flies and gnats of Nile
Have buried them for prey!

Ant. I am fatisfy'd.

Cæfar fits down in Alexandria; where
I will oppofe his fate. Our force by land
Hath nobly held; our fever'd navy too

[lady?

Have knit again, and fleet, threat'ning moft fea-like.
Where haft thou been, my heart?-Doft thou hear,
If from the field I fhall return once more
To kifs thefe lips, I will appear in blood;
I and my fword will earn our chronicle;
There is hope in it yet.

Cleo. That's my brave lord!

Ant. I will be treble-finew'd, hearted, breath'd, And fight malicioufly: for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jefts; but now, I'll fet my teeth, And fend to darkness all that stop me.-Come, Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me

All my

fad captains, fill our bowls; once more Let's mock the midnight bell.

Clee. It is my birth-day:

I had thought, to have held it poor; but, fince my Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.

Ant. We'll yet do well.

Cleo. Call all his noble captains to my lord.

[lord

Ant. Do fo, we'll fpeak to them; and to-night I'll force

The wine peep through their scars.-Come on, my

queen;

There's fap in't yet. The next time I do fight,
I'll make death love me; for I will contend
Even with his peftilent scythe.

[Exeunt ANT. and CLEO.
Eno. Now he'll out-ftare the lightning. To be furious,
Is, to be frighted out of fear: and in that mood,
The dove will peck the eftridge; and I fee ftill,
A diminution in our captain's brain

Reftores his heart: When valour preys on reason,
It eats the fword it fights with. I will seek
Some way to leave him.

[Exit.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. CÆSAR's camp at Alexandria.

Enter CESAR, reading a letter; AGRIPPA, MECENAS,, and others.

Cafar.

He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power
To beat me out of Egypt: my messenger

He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to perfonal com-
Cæfar to Antony: Let the old ruffian know, [bat,
I have many other ways to die; mean time,

Laugh