Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have
Luxuriously pick'd out:- For I am fure,

Though you can guess what temperance should 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 playfellow, your hand; this kingly feal,
And plighter of high hearts !-O that I were
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.

Attend. Soundly, my lord,

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

Attend. 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 hast been whipp'd for following him. Henceforth,

The white hand of a lady fever thee,

Shake thou to look on't.-Get thee back to Cæfar,
Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou say,
He makes me angry with him: For he feems
Proud and disdainful; harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry;
And, at this time, most easy 'tis to do't;

When my good stars, that were my former guides,

4 The borned herd,] It is not without pity and indignation that the reader of this great poet meets fo often with this low jest, which is too much a favourite to be left out of either mirth or fury. JOHNSON.

Have empty left their orbs, and fhot their fires
Into the abifm of hell. If he miflike

My fpeech, and what is done; tell him he has
Hipparchus, my enfranchis'd bondman, whom
He may at pleafure 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. 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 ingender hail,
And poifon it in the fource; and the first stone
Drop in my neck; as it determines, fo

6

Diffolve my life! the next Cæfarion fmite!
'Till by degrees the memory of my womb,
Together with my brave Ægyptians all,
7 By the difcandying of this pelleted storm,
Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile
Have buried them for prey!

Ant. I am fatisfied:

Cæfar fits down in Alexandria, where

I will oppofe his fate. Our force by land

5 -to quit me :· -] To repay me this infult; to requite me.

JOHNSON. 6-the next Cæfario fmite!] Cæfario was Cleopatra's fon by Julius Cæfar.

STEEVENS.

7 By the difcattering of this pelletted ftorm,] This reading we owe first, I prefume, to Mr. Rowe and Mr Pope has very faithfully fallen into it. The old folio's read, difcandering: from which corruption both Dr. Thirlby and I faw, we must retrieve the word with which I have reform'd the text.

THEOBALD.

Hath

Hath nobly held; our fever'd navy too

8

Have knit again, and float, threatning moft fea-like. Where hast thou been, my heart? Doft thou hear, lady?

If from the field I fhould return once more
To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood;
I and my fword will earn my chronicle;
There's hope in't yet.

Cleo. That's my brave lord.

Ant. I will be treble-finew'd, hearted, breath'd,
And fight maliciously: 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.

Cleo. It is my birth-day:

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

Ant. We will yet do well.

Cleo. Call all his noble captains to my

lord.

Ant. Do fo, we'll speak 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

8and float,-] This is a modern emendation, perhaps right. The old reading is,

and fleet,

JOHNSON.

WARBURTON..

Were nice and lucky,-] Nice, for delicate, courtly, flowing in peace. Nice rather feems to be, just fit for my purpose, agreeable to my wifh. So we vulgarly fay of any thing that is done better than was expected, it is nice.

JOHNSON

Even

Even with his peftilent fcythe.

[Exeunt. 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 estridge; and, I see still,
A diminution in our captain's brain

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

A C T IV. SCENE I.
ACT

CESAR's CAM P.

Enter Cafar, reading a letter, Agrippa, Mecanas, &c.

H

CESAR.

E calls me boy; and chides, as he had power

To beat me out of Egypt. My meffenger He hath whipt with rods; dares me to perfonal combat, Cæfar to Antony.-Let the old ruffian know,

'I have many other ways to die: mean time, Laugh at his challenge.

Mec.

I have many other ways to die: -] What a reply is this to Antony's challenge? 'tis acknowledging that he should die under the unequal combat; but if we read,

He hath many other ways to die: mean time,

I laugh at his challenge.

In this reading we have poignancy, and the very repartee of Cafar. Let's hear Plutarch. After this, Antony jent a challenge to Cafar, to fight bim hand to band, and received for anfwer, that he might find feveral other ways to end his life.

UPTON,

I think

Mec. Cæfar must think,

When one fo great begins to rage, he's hunted
Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now
Make boot of his diftraction: never anger
Made good guard for itself.

Caf. Let our best heads

Know, that to-morrow the laft of many battles
We mean to fight.-Within our files there are
Of those that ferv'd Mark Antony but late,
Enough to fetch him in. See it done;
And feast the army: we have store to do't,
And they have earn'd the wafte. Poor Antony!
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

ALEXANDRIA.

Enter Antony and Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, Iras,
Alexas, with others.

Ant. He will not fight with me, Domitius.
Eno. No.

Ant. Why fhould he not?

Eno. He thinks, being twenty times of better for

tune,

He is twenty men to one.

Ant. To-morrow, foldier,

By fea and land I'll fight: or I will live,
Or bathe my dying honour in the blood

Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well?

I think this emendation deserves to be received. It had, before Mr. Upton's book appeared, been made by fir T. Hanmer. JOHNSON.

Moft indifputably this is the fenfe of Plutarch, and given fo in the modern tranflations; but Shakespeare was mifled by the ambiguity of the old one. "Antonius fent again to challenge Ca"far to fight him: Cæfar answered, that he had many other FARMER. ways to die, than fo" JOHNSON. Eno.

Make boot of-] Take advantage of.

P 2