Cleo. How much unlike art thou Mark Antony!
Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath
With his tinct gilded thee.—

How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?
Alex. Last thing he did, dear queen,
He kiss'd, the last of many doubled kisses,—
This orient pearl :-his speech sticks in my heart.
Cleo. Mine ear must pluck it thence.
Alex.

"Good friend," quoth he,

Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends
This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot,
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?

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.-Met'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,

If thou with Cæsar paragon again

My man of men.

Char.

I sing but after you.

Cleo.

By your most gracious pardon,

My sallad days,

When I was green in judgment:-cold in blood,

To say as I said then !—But come, away;

Get me ink and paper:

He shall have every day a several greeting,
Or I'll unpeople Egypt.

Excurt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-MESSINA. A Room in POMPEY'S House.

Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS.

Pom. If the great gods be just, they shall assist

The deeds of justest men.

Mene.

Know, worthy Pompey,

That what they do delay, they not deny.

Pom. Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays

The thing we sue for.

Mene.

We, ignorant of ourselves,

Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers
Deny us for our good; so find we profit,

By losing of our prayers.

The people love me, and the sea is mine;

My power's a crescent, and my auguring hope
Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony
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.

Men.

Cæsar and Lepidus

Are in the field: a mighty strength they carry.
Pom. Where have you this? 'tis false.

Men.

From Silvius, Sir.

Pom. He dreams: I know they are in Rome together, Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love,

Salt Cleopatra, soften thy wan'd lip!

Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both!

Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts,
Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks,
Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite;

That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour,
Even till a Lethe'd dulness !—

Enter VARRIUS.

How now, Varrius!

Var. This is most certain, that I shall deliver :Mark Antony is every hour in Rome

Expected since he went from Egypt, 'tis

A space for farther travel.

Pom.

I could have given less matter

A better ear.-Menas, I did not think

This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his helm
For such a petty war: his soldiership

Is twice the other twain: but let us rear

The higher our opinion, that our stirring
Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck
The ne'er lust-wearied Antony.

Men.

I cannot hope,

Cæsar and Antony shall well greet together:
His wife, that's dead, did trespasses to Cæsar;
His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think,
Not mov'd by Antony.

Pom.

I know not, Menas,

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 entertainèd 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.

Be it as our gods will have 't! It only stands
Our lives upon, to use our strongest hands.
Come, Menas.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-ROME. A Room in LEPIDUS' House,

Enter ENOBARBUS and LEpidus.

Lep. Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed,

And shall become you well, to entreat your captain
To soft and gentle speech.

Eno.

I shall entreat him

To answer like himself: if Cæsar move him,

Let Antony look over Cæsar's head,

And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter,
Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard,

I would not shave to-day.

Lep.

For private stomaching.

Eno.

'Tis not a time

Every time

Serves for the matter that is then born in 't.

Lep. But small to greater matters must give way.
Eno. Not if the small come first.

Lep.

Your speech is passion:

But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes

The noble Antony.

Eno.

Enter ANTONY and VENTIDIUS.

And yonder, Cæsar.

Enter CESAR, MECÆNAS, and AGRIPPA.

Ant. If we compose well here, to Parthia:

That which combin'd us was most great, and let not

A leaner action rend us.

What's amiss,

May it be gently heard: when we debate.

Our trivial difference loud, we do commit

Murder in healing wounds: then, noble partners,

The rather, for I earnestly beseech,—

Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms,
Nor curstness grow to the matter.

Ant.

'Tis spoken well.

Were we before our armies, and to fight,

I should do thus.

Cas. Welcome to Rome.

Ant.

Cæs. Sit.

Ant. Sit, Sir.

Cas. Nay, then

Thank you.

Ant. I learn, you take things ill, which are not so;

Or, being, concern you not.

Cæs.

If, or for nothing, or a little, I

I must be laugh'd at,

Should say myself offended; and with you

Chiefly i' the world: more laugh'd at, that I should

Ant.

Once name you derogately, when to sound your name
It not concern'd me.

What was 't to you?

My being in Egypt, Cæsar,

Cas. No more than my residing here at Rome
Might be to you in Egypt: yet, if you there
Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt
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
Did urge me in this act; I did enquire it;

Cæs.

Ant.

And have my learning from some true reports,
That drew their swords with you.

Discredit my authority with yours;

Did he not rather

And make the wars alike against my stomach,

Having alike your cause? Of this

my letters

Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel,
As matter whole you have to make it with,

It must not be with this.

You praise yourself
By laying defects of judgment to me; but
You patch'd up your excuses.

Not so, not so ;

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 no. such a wife.

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

Ant. So much uncurbable, her garboils, Cæsar,

Cas.

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.

I wrote to you,

When rioting in Alexandria; you