Name Cleopatra as she's call'd in Rome: Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds, 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? 2 Mess. Fulvia thy wife is dead. Ant. 2 Mess. In Sicyon: Where died she? Her length of sickness, with what else more serious Importeth thee to know, this bears. [Gives a letter. Ant. Forbear me. [Exit Messenger. There's a great spirit gone: Thus did I desire it: The opposite of itself12: she's good, being gone; 11 The old copy reads, 'quick winds;' an error which has occurred elsewhere. Warburton made the correction. Our quick minds' means our lively apprehensive minds; which, when they lie idle, bring forth vices instead of virtues, weeds instead of flowers and fruits; to tell us of our faults is, as it were, the first culture of the mind, and is the way to kill these weeds. 12The pleasure of to-day, by revolution of events and change of circumstances, often loses all its value to us, and becomes tomorrow a pain.' 13 The hand could 13 pluck her back, that shov'd her on, Eno. What's your pleasure, sir? Ant. I must with haste from hence. 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. Eno. Under a compelling occasion, let women die: It were pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment 14: 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 almanacks 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 unseen a wonderful piece of work: which not to have been blessed withal, would have discredited your travel. 13 Could is here used with an optative meaning. Could, would, and should are often used by our old writers, in what appears to us an indiscriminate manner, and yet appear to have been so employed rather by choice than chance. 14 i. e. for less reason, upon a weaker motive. Ant. Fulvia is dead. Eno. Sir? Ant. Fulvia is dead. Eno. Fulvia? Ant. Dead. 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 15. 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 16 to the queen, And get her love 17 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 15 As the gods have been pleased to take away your wife Fulvia, so they have provided you with a new one in Cleopatra ; in like manner as the tailors of the earth, when your old garments are worn out, accommodate you with new ones.' 16 Expedition. 17 I think with Mason that we should read leave instead of love. (Whose love is never link'd to the deserver, Cleo. See where he is, who's with him, what he If you find him sad, Say, I am dancing: if in mirth, report [Exit ALEX. Char. Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, 18 This alludes to the ancient vulgar error, that a horse-hair dropped into corrupted water would become animated. Dr. Lister, in the Philosophical Transactions, showed that these animated horse-hairs were real insects, and displayed the fallacy of the popular opinion. It was asserted that these insects moved like serpents, and were poisonous to swallow. 19 Say to those whose place is under us (i. e. to our attendants), that our pleasure requires us to remove in haste from hence.' 'You must go as if you came without my order or knowledge.' So in Troilus and Cressida : We met by chance; you did not find me here.' You do not hold the method to enforce The like from him. Cleo. What should I do, I do not? Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in nothing. Cleo. Thou teachest like a fool: the way to lose him. Char. Tempt him not so too far: I wish, forbear; In time we hate that which we often fear. Enter ANTONY. But here comes Antony. Cleo. I am sick, and sullen. Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian, I shall fall; It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature Will not sustain it 2. Ant. Now, my dearest queen, Cleo. Pray you, stand further from me. Ant. What's the matter? Cleo. I know, by that same eye, there's some good news. What the married woman?-You may go; says 'Would, she had never given you leave to come! Let her not say, 'tis I that keep you here, I have no power upon you; hers you are. O, never was there queen So mightily betray'd! Yet, at the first, I saw the treasons planted. Ant. Cleopatra, Cleo. Why should I think, you can be mine, and true, Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, 2 Thus in Twelfth Night : There is no woman's sides Can bide the beating of so strong a passion.' |