Plays and Poems

O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony! Do bravely, horse, for wott'st thou whom thou movest?

The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm
And burgonet of men. He's speaking now,
Or murmuring 'Where's my serpent of old
Nile?'

For so he calls me. Now I feed myself
With most delicious poison. Think on me,
That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black,
And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted
Cæsar,

When thou wast here above the ground I was 30
A morsel for a monarch, and great Pompey
Would stand and make his eyes grow in my

brow;

There would he anchor his aspect and die With looking on his life.

To mend the petty present, I will piece
Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the

east,

Say thou, shall call her mistress.' So he nodded,

And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed. Who neigh'd so high that what I would have spoke

Was beastly dumb'd by him.

Cleo.

What was he sad or merry? so

Alex. Like to the time o' the year between the extremes

Of hot and cold; he was nor sad nor merry. Cleo. O well-divided disposition! Note him. Note him, good Charmian, 'tis the man, but note him ;

He was not sad, for he would shine on those That make their looks by his; he was not merry,

Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay
In Egypt with his joy; but between both:
O heavenly mingle! Be'st thou sad or merry,
The violence of either thee becomes,
So does it no man else. Mett'st thou my posts?
Alex. Ay, madam, twenty several messengers.
Why do you send so thick?

Cleo.

Who's born that day When I forget to send to Antony, Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian. Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian, Ever love Cæsar so?

Char. O! that brave Cæsar. Cleo. Be chok'd with such another emphasis ! Say, the brave Antony.

Char. The valiant Cæsar ! Cleo. By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, 9 If thou with Cæsar paragon again My man of men.

Char.

By your most gracious pardon,

I sing but after you.

Cleo.

My salad days,

My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope | Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard,
Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony 11 I would not shave 't to-day.
In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make

No wars without doors; Cæsar gets money
where

He loses hearts; Lepidus flatters both,

Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves,
Nor either cares for him.

How lesser enmities may give way to greater.
Were't not that we stand up against them all
'Twere pregnant they should square between
themselves,

For they have entertained cause enough

To draw their swords; but how the fear of us
May cement their divisions and bind up
The petty difference, we yet not know.

Lep.

For private stomaching.
Eno.

'Tis not a time

Every time

Serves for the matter that is then born in 't. 10
Lep. But small to greater matters must give

way.

Ant.
What was 't to you?
Cas. No more than my residing here at Rome
Might be to you in Egypt; yet, if you there

Be't as our gods will have 't! It only stands 50 Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt
Our lives upon to use our strongest hands.
Come, Menas.

Exeunt.

Might be my question.

Ant.

How intend you, practis'd? Cas. You may be pleas'd to catch at mine intent

By what did here befall me. Your wife and
brother

Made wars upon me, and their contestation
Was theme for you, you were the word of war.
Ant. You do mistake your business; my
brother never

Having alike your cause? Of this my letters
Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel,
As matter whole you have not to make it with,
It must not be with this.
Cæs.

You praise yourself By laying defects of judgment to me, but

You patch'd up your excuses.

Ant. Not so, not so; 60 I know you could not lack, I am certain on 't, Very necessity of this thought, that I, Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought, Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife, I would you had her spirit in such another: The third o' the world is yours, which with a snaffle

You may pace easy, but not such a wife.

Agr. Thou hast a sister by the mother's side, Admir'd Octavia; great Mark Antony

Eno. Would we had all such wives, that the Is now a widower. men might go to wars with the women!

Ant. So much uncurbable, her garboils, Cæsar,
Made out of her impatience, which not wanted
Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant
Did you too much disquiet; for that you must
But say I could not help it.
Cæs.

I wrote to you
When rioting in Alexandria; you
Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts
Did gibe my missive out of audience.
Ant.

Sir,

He fell upon me ere admitted: then
Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want
Of what I was i' the morning; but next day 81
I told him of myself, which was as much
As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow
Be nothing of our strife; if we contend,
Out of our question wipe him.
Cæs.
You have broken
The article of your oath, which you shall never
Have tongue to charge me with.

Lep. Ant.

Lepidus, let him speak:

Soft, Cæsar!

No,

The honour's sacred which he talks on now, Supposing that I lack'd it. But on, Cæsar; The article of my oath.

Cæs. To lend me arms and aid when I requir'd them,

The which you both denied.
Ant.

Neglected, rather;
And then when poison'd hours had bound me up
From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may,
I'll play the penitent to you; but mine honesty
Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power
Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia,
To have me out of Egypt, made wars here;
For which myself, the ignorant motive, do
So far ask pardon as befits mine honour
To stoop in such a case.
Lep.
Mec. If it might please you, to enforce no
further

'Tis noble spoken.

The griefs between ye: to forget them quite Were to remember that the present need Speaks to atone you.

100

Lep. Worthily spoken, Mecænas. Eno. Or, if you borrow one another's love for the instant, you may, when you hear no more words of Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to wrangle in when you have nothing else to do.

Cæs.

Say not so, Agrippa; If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof Were well deserv'd of rashness.

Ant. I am not married, Cæsar; let me hear Agrippa further speak.

130

Would then be nothing; truths would be tales
Where now half tales be truths; her love to both
Would each to other and all loves to both
Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke,
For 'tis a studied, not a present thought,
By duty ruminated.

Ant.
Will Cæsar speak!
Cas. Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd
With what is spoke already.

Ant. What power is in Agrippa, If I would say, 'Agrippa, be it so,' To make this good? Cas.

The power of Cæsar, and

Time calls upon 's:
Of us must Pompey presently be sought,
Or else he seeks out us.
111 Ant.
Where lies he?

Enthron'd i' the market-place, did sit alone,
Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too
And made a gap in nature.
Agr.
Eno. Upon her landing Antony sent to her,
Haste we 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,

Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we
The business we have talk'd of.

170

Cæs.
With most gladness;
And do invite you to my sister's view,
Whither straight I'll lead you.

Let us, Lepidus,
Noble Antony,

Ant.

Not lack your company.
Lep.

Not sickness should detain me.

Flourish. Exeunt CESAR, ANTONY,
and LEPIDUS.
Mec. Welcome from Egypt, sir.
Eno. Half the heart of Cæsar, worthy Mecænas!
My honourable friend, Agrippa!

Agr. Good Enobarbus!

18 Mec. We have cause to be glad that matters are so well digested. You stayed well by 't in Egypt.

Eno. Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance, and made the night light with drinking. Mec. Eight wild boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and but twelve persons there; is this true?

Eno. This was but as a fly by an eagle; we had much more monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting.

191

Mec. She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to her.

Eno. When she first met Mark Antony sne pursed up his heart, upon the river of Cydnus.

Agr. There she appeared indeed, or my reporter devised well for her.

Eno. I will tell you.

The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,

231

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
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.

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

240

Burn'd on the water; the poop was beaten gold, Enter CESAR, ANTONY, OCTAVIA between them; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that

201

The winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver,

Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and
made

The water which they beat to follow faster,
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 outwork nature; on each side her
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With divers-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. 213
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 varely frame the office. From the barge
A strange invisible perfume hits the sense
Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast
Her people out upon her, and Antony,

220

Ant.

Sav to me,

Cleo. As well a woman with an eunuch play'd Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Cæsar's or As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me,

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, at odds. I will to Egypt; And though I make this marriage for my peace, I' the east my pleasure lies.

sir?

Mar. As well as I can, madai.

Cleo. And when good will is show'd, though 't come too short,

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 wher You wager'd on your angling; when your diver Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he With fervency drew up.

Cleo. Antony's dead! 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 is 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, so tart a favour

To trumpet such good tidings! if not well, Thou should'st come like a Fury crown'd with snakes,

Not like a formal man.

Mess.

Will't please you hear me? Cleo. I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st:

Yet, if thou say Antony lives, is well,
Or friends with Cæsar, or not captive to him.
I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail
Rich pearls upon thee.

Mess. Cleo.

Madam, he's well.

Well said.

Mess. And friends with Cæsar.
Cleo.
Thou 'rt an honest man.
Mess. Cæsarand heare greater friends than ever.
Cleo. Make thee a fortune from me.

Mess.
But yet, madam.-
Cleo. I do not like 'but yet,' it does allay
The good precedence; fie upon 'but yet'!
'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth
Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend,
Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear.
The good and bad together. He's friends with
Cæsar;

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