TAURUS, lieutenant-general to Cæsar. CANIDIUS, lieutenant-general to Antony. SILIUS, an officer in Ventidius's army. EUPHRONIUS, an ambassador from Antony to Cæsar. ALEXAS, MARDIAN, SELEUCUS, and DIOMEDES, attendants on Cleo Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants. SCENE-in several parts of the Roman empire. ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. ACT I. SCENE I. Alexandria. A room in CLEOPATRA's palace. Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO. Phi. Nay, but this dotage of our general's O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes, That o'er the files and musters of the war Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn, The office and devotion of their view Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart, Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst And is become the bellows and the fan To cool a gipsy's lust. [Flourish within.] Look, where they come: Take but good note, and you shall see in him The triple pillar of the world transform'd Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see. Enter ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, with their trains; Eunuchs fanning her. Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much. Ant. There's beggary in the love that can be 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. Cleo. Nay, hear them, Antony: Grates me:- the sum. 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 Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine Cleo. Excellent falsehood! Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?- Will be himself. Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra. [Embracing. Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours, Ant. Fie, wrangling queen! Whom every thing becomes,-to chide, to laugh, To weep; whose (2) every passion fully strives No messenger; but thine, and all alone, To-night we'll wander through the streets, and note [Exeunt Ant. and Cleo. with their train. Dem. Is Cæsar with Antonius priz'd so slight? Phi. Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony, He comes too short of that great property Which still should go with Antony. Dem. I am full sorry That he approves the common liar, who [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. Another room in the same. Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a Soothsayer.(3) 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 charge (4) his horns with garlands! Alex. Soothsayer,— Sooth. Your will? 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. Alex. Show him your hand. Enter ENOBARBUS. Eno. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough Cleopatra's health to drink. Char. Good sir, give me good fortune. Sooth. I make not, but foresee. Char. Pray, then, foresee me one. Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer than you are. Char. He means in flesh. Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old. Alex. Vex not his prescience; be attentive. Sooth. You shall be more beloving than belov'd. Char. I had rather heat my liver with drinking. Char. Good now, some excellent fortune! Let 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. Char. O excellent! I love long life better than figs. Sooth. You have seen and prov'd a fairer former fortune Than that which is to approach. Char. Then belike my children shall have no names:— prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have? Sooth. If every of your wishes had a womb, And fertile (5) every wish, a million. Char. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. Alex. You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers. Alex. We'll know all our fortunes. Eno. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be— drunk to bed. Iras. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. Char. E'en 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.-Prithee, tell her but a worky-day fortune. Sooth. Your fortunes are alike. Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars. Sooth. I have said. 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? |