Now be a freeman; and, with this good sword, Re-enter Titinius with Messala. The last of all the Romans, fare thee well! Mes. It is but change, Titinius; for Octavius Tit. These tidings will well comfort Cassius. All disconsolate, Mes. Is not that he, that lies upon the ground? done! Mistrust of my success hath done this deed. [Charges the enemy. Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I; Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus. [Exit, charging the enemy. Cato is overpowered, and falls. Luc. O young and noble Cato, art thou down? Mes. Mistrust of good success hath done this Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius; deed. And may'st be honour'd, being Cato's son. 1 Sold. Yield, or thou diest. Luc. O hateful error, melancholy's child! Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men, Only I yield to die: The things that are not? O error, soon conceiv'd,There is so much that thou wilt kill me straght; Thou never com'st unto a happy birth, But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee. Tit. What, Pindarus! Where art thou, Pindarus? The noble Brutus, thrusting this report Tit. Hie you, Messala, And I will seek for Pindarus the while. (Ex. Mes. And bid me give't thee? Didst thou not hear their Alas, thou hast misconstrued every thing. [Dies. Alarum. Re-enter Messala, with Brutus, young Cato. Cato. [Offering money. Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death. Bru. Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock. Cli. Statilius show'd the torch-light; but, my lord, He came not back; he is or ta'en, or slain. Bru. Sit thee down, Clitus: Slaying is the word; Cli. What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world. I'll rather kill myself. [Whispers him. Dar. Cli. O, Dardanius! Dar. O, Clitus! I do such a deed? Cli. What ill request did Brutus make to thee? Bru. Come hither, good Volumnius: list a word. Why, this, Volumnius; Vol. Not so, my lord. Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou see'st the world, Volumnius, how it goes; Our enemies have beat us to the pit: It is more worthy to leap in ourselves, Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, Thou know'st, that we two went to school together; Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep; Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest, Cli. Fly, my lord, fly. Bru. Hence; I will follow thee. [Exeunt Clitus, Dardaníus, and Volumnius. I pr'ythee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord: Thou art a fellow of a good respect; Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it: Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face, While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato? Stra. Give me your hand first: Fare you well, my lord. Oct. What man is that? Mes. My master's man.-Strato, where is thy master? Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala; And no man else hath honour by his death. That thou hast prov'd Lucilius' saving true. Mes. Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all: Oct. According to his virtue let us use him, [Exeunt. Of this tragedy many particular passages deserve regard, and the contention and reconcilement of Brutus and Cassius is universally celebrated; but I have never been strongly agitated in perusing it, and think it somewhat cold and unaffecting, compared with some other of Shakspeare's plays: his adherence to the real story, and to the Roman manners, seems to have impeded the natural vigour of (1) Receive into my service. (2) Recommend. This genius. JOHNSON. NAY, but this dotage of our general's, To cool a gipsy's lust. Look, where they come ! Flourish. Enter Antony and Cleopatra, with their trains; Eunuchs fanning her. Take but good note, and you shall see in him Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much. reckon'd. Cleo. I'll set a bourn how far to be belov'd. Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth. Enter an Attendant. Att. News, my good lord, from Rome. Ant. Grates me:-The sum.Cleo. Nay, hear them, Antony: Fulvia, perchance, is angry; Or, who knows If the scarce-bearded Cæsar have not sent Ant. How, my love! Cleo. Perchance,-nay, and most like, You must not stay here longer, your dismission Is come from Cæsar; therefore, hear it, Antony.Where's Fulvia's process? Cæsar's, I would say ? Both ? Call in the messengers.-As I am Egypt's queen, To weep; whose every passion fully strives [Exeunt Ant. and Cleo. with their train. Dem. I'm full sorry, [Exeunt. Char. Even as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine. Iras. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. Char. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear.-Pr'ythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune. Sooth. Your fortunes are alike. Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars. Iras. Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it? Iras. Not in my husband's nose. Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend!-Alexas,-come, his fortune, his fortune.-O, let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beSCENE II.-The same. Another room. Enter seech thee! And let her die too, and give him a Charmian, Iras, Alexas, and a Soothsayer. Char. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew this husband, which, you say, must change his horns with garlands! Alex. Soothsayer. Char. Is this the man?-Is't you, sir, that know things? Sooth. In nature's infinite book of secrecy, A little I can read. worse! and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, beseech thee! I Iras. Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! for, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded; There fore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly! Char. Amen. Alex. Lo, now! if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they would inake themselves whores, but they'd do't. Eno. Hush! here comes Antony. Not he, the queen. Eno. Char. He means, in flesh. Cleo. Char. No, madam. Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old. Alex. Vex not his prescience; be attentive. Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than beloved. Char. Good now, some excellent fortune! bet! me be married to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius Cæsar, and companion me with my mistress. Sooth. You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. Than that which is to approach. Char. Then, belike, my children shall have no names: Pr'ythee, how many boys and wenches must I have? Sooth. If every of your wishes had a womb, And fertile every wish, a million. Char. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers. Eno. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be-drunk to bed. Iras. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. Cleo. He was dispos'd to mirth; but on the sud den A Roman thought hath struck him.-Enobarbus,- Cleo. Seek him, and bring him hither. Where's Alexas? Alex. Here, madam, at your service. My lord Enter Antony, with a Messenger and Attendants. [Exeunt Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Alexas, Iras, But soon that war had end, and the time's state Whose better issue in the war, from Italy, His conquering banner shook, from Syria Ant. Antony, thou would'st say, O, my lord! Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue; Name Cleopatra as she's call'd in Rome: Mess. At your noble pleasure. [Exit. Ant. From Sicyon how the news? Speak there. 1 Att. The man from Sicyon.-Is there such a one? 2 Att. He stays' upon your will. Ant. Let him appear. These strong Egyptian fetters I must break," Enter another Messenger. Or lose myself in dotage.-What are you? Where died she? Eno. Fulvia ? Eno. Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth; comforting therein, that when old robes are worn out, there are members to make new. If there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new petticoat :-and, indeed, the tears live in an onion, that should water this sorrow. Ant. The business she hath broached in the state, Cannot endure my absence. Eno. And the business you have broached here, cannot be without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode. Ant. No more light answers. Let our officers Have notice what we purpose. I shall break The cause of our expedience to the queen, And get her love to part. For not alone The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too Of many our contriving friends in Rome Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius Hath given the dare to Cæsar, and commands The empire of the sea: our slippery people Forbear me.-(Whose love is never link'd to the deserver, [Frit Messenger. Till his deserts are past,) begin to throw There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it: Pompey the great, and all his dignities, What our contempts do often hurl from us, Upon his son; who high in name and power, We wish it ours again; the present pleasure, Higher than both in blood and life, stands up By revolution lowering, does become For the main soldier: whose quality going on, The sides o'the world may danger: Much is breeding, 2 Mess. In Sicyon : The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; Eno. What's your pleasure, sir? Eno. Why, then, we kill all our women: We see how mortal an unkindness is to them; if they suffer our departure, death's the word. Ant. I must be gone. Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life, [Exeunt. SCENE III.-Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas. Cleo. Where is he? I did not see him since. Cleo. See where he is, who's with him, what he does: Eno. Under a compelling occasion, let women die: It were pity to cast them away for nothing; I did not send you;-If you find him sad, though, between them and a great cause, they Say, I am dancing; if in mirth, report should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching That I am sudden sick: Quick, and return. but the least noise of this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment: I do think, there is mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such a celerity in dying. Ant. She is cunning past man's thought. Eno. Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love; We cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove. Ant. 'Would I had never seen her! Eno. O, sir, you had then left unscen a wonderful piece of work; which not to have been blessed withal, would have discredited your travel. Ant. Fulvia is dead. Eno. Sir? Ant. Fulvia is dead. (1) In some editions minds. (2) Tilling, ploughing; prepares us to produce good seed. [Exit Alex. Char. Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, You do not hold the method to enforce Cleo. Thou teachest like a fool: the way to lose Char. Tempt him not so too far: I wish, forbear; |