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Have you no ears?
I am Antony yet. Take hence this Jack, and whip him.
Eno. [Aside.] 'T is better playing with a lion's whelp
Than with an old one dying.
Moon and stars! -
Whip him.-- Were 't twenty of the greatest tributaries
That do acknowledge Cæsar, should I find them
with the hand of she here,—what's her name, Since she was Cleopatra ?
—Whip him, fellows,
Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face,
And whine aloud for mercy: take him hence.
THYR. Mark Antony,-
Tug him away: being whipp’d,
Bring him again :this* Jack of Cæsar's shall
Bear us an errand to him.- [Exeunt Attendants, with THYREUS.
You were half blasted ere I knew you :-ha!
Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome,
Forborne the getting of a lawful race,
And by a gem of women, to be abus'd
By one that looks on feeders ? a
Good my lord,
Ant. You have been a boggler ever :
But when we in our viciousness grow hard,
(0, misery on't!) the wise gods seelb our eyes ;
In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us
Adore our errors; laugh at ’s, while we strut
To our confusion.
0, is 't come to this?
Ant. I found you as a morsel cold upon
Dead Cæsar's trencher: nay, you were a fragment
Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours,
Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have
Luxuriously pick'd out: for, I am sure,
Though you can guess what temperance should be,
You know not what it is.
Wherefore is this?
ANT. To let a fellow that will take rewards,
And say, God quit you! be familiar with
My playfellow, your hand; this kingly seal,
And plighter of high hearts !—0, that I were
Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar
The horned herd ! for I have savage cause ;
(*) Old text, The. feeders !) An old nickname for servants. Thus, in Beaumont and Fictcher's play of “The Nice Valour,” Act III. Sc. 1,
“Now servants he has kept, lusty tall feeders." seel our eyes ;) See note (c), p. 33. Though-] Though" carries here the sense of if, or even if.
And to proclaim it civilly, were like
A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank
For being yare about him.-
Re-enter Attendants, with THYREUS.
Is he whipp'd ? 1 Att. Soundly, my lord. ANT.
Cried he? and begg'd he pardon? 1 ATT. He did ask favour.
ANT. If that thy father live, let him repent
Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry
To follow Cæsar in his triumph, since
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 Cæsar,
Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou say
He makes me angry with him, for he seems
Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was: he makes me angry;
And at this time most easy 't is to do ’t,
When my good stars, that were my former guides,
Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires
Into the abysm of hell. If he mislike
My speech and what is done, tell him he has
Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he shall like, to quit me:a urge it thou !
Hence with thy stripes, begone!(5)
[Exit THYREUS. CLEO. Have you done yet? ANT.
Alack, our terrene moon
Is now eclips'd; and it portends alone
The fall of Antony !
I must stay his time.
Ant. To flatter Cæsar, would you mingle eyes
With one that ties his points ?
Not know ine yet?
Ant. Cold-hearted toward me?
Ah, dear, if I be so,
From my cold heart let heaven engender hail,
And poison it in the source; and the first stone
Drop in my neck: as it determines, so
Dissolve my life! The next Cæsarion smite!*
Till, by degrees, the memory of my womb,
Together with my brave Egyptians all,
By the discandying of this pellcted storm,
(*) First folio, Cæsarian smile. - to quit me:) To repay, or requite me, for the indignity he receives at my hands. as it determines,-) As it melts away.
discandying–) Liquefying. The old copies read discandering, “from which corruption," 'l'heobald says, ** both Dr. Thirlby and I saw we must retrieve the word with which I have reformed the text."
Lie graveless,—till the flies and gnats of Nile
Have buried them for prey!
I am satisfied.
Cæsar sits down in Alexandria ; where
I will oppose his fate. Our force by land
Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too
Have knit again, and fleet, a threat’ning most sea-like.
Where hast thou been, my heart?-Dost thou hear, lady?
If from the field I shall return once more
To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood;
I and my sword will earn our chronicle;
There's hope in 't.
That's my brave lord !
ANT. I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breath'd,
And fight maliciously: for when mine hours
Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives
Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth,
And send to darkness all that stop me.-Come,
Let's have one other gaudyb night: call to me
my sad captains; fill our bowls; once more
Let's mock the midnight bell.
It is my birthday :
I had thought to have held it poor ; but, since 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 so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force
The wine peep through their scars.—Come on, my queen ;
There's sap in 't yet. The next time I do fight,
I'll make Death love me ; for I will contend
Even with his pestilent scythe. [Exeunt all except ENOBARBUS.
Eno. Now he'll outstare 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
Restores his heart: when valour preys on reason,
It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek
Some way to leave him.
(*) First folio, prayes in reason. * -- and fleet,-) That is, float, the words of old being synonymous.
one other gaudy night":] A festival night; from gaudium. "Gaudy days” is still a collegiate term.
SCENE I.-Cæsar's Camp before Alexandria.
Enter CÆSAR, reading a letter ; AGRIPPA, MECÆNAS, and others.
CÆs. He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power
To beat me out of Egypt; my messenger
He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal combat:
Cæsar to Antony !-Let the old ruffian know,
I have many other ways to die; mean time,
Laugh at his challenge.
Cæsar must think,
When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted
Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now
Make boot of his distraction :never anger
Made good guard for itself.
Let our best heads
Know, that to-morrow the last of many battles
We mean to fight :-within our files there are
Of those that serv'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 waste. Poor Antony !
SCENE II.-Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.
Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS,
and others. Ant. He will not fight with me, Domitius. Exo.
ANT. Why should he not?
Exo. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,
He is twenty men to one.
By sea 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?
Exo. I'll strike, and cry, Take all.
Well said ; come on.-
Call forth my household servants ; let's to-night
Be bounteous at our meal.-
# I have, &c.] Hanmer reads, “ He hath many,” &c., as Shakespeare would have done had he not mistaken the corresponding passaye of his authority, North’s Plutarch : -“ Antonius sent againe to chalenge Cæsar to tight with him hande to hande. Cæsar aunswerd him, that he had many other ways to die than so."
Give me thy hand,
Thou hast been rightly honest ;—so hast thou ;
Thou,—and thou,—and thou :you have serv'd me well,
And kings have been your fellows.
CLEO. [Aside to Eno.]
What means this?
Eno. [Aside to CLEO] 'Tis one of those odd tricks which sorrow
shoots Out of the mind. ANT.
And thou art honest too.
I wish I could be made so many men,
And all of you clapp'd up together in
An Antony, that I might do you service,
So good as you have done.
The gods forbid !
ANT. Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night:
Scant not my cups; and make as much of me
As when mine empire was your fellow too,
And suffer'd my command.
CLEO. [Aside to Exo.] What does he mean?
Eno. [Aside to CLEO.) To make his followers weep.
Tend me to-night;
May be it is the period of your duty:
Haply you shall not see me more; or if,
A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow
You'll serve another master. I look on you
As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends,
I turn you not away; but, like a master
Married to your good service, stay till death:
Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more,
And the gods yield you for 't !
What mean you, sir,
To give them this discomfort ? Look, they weep;
And I, an ass, am onion-ey'd: for shame,
Transform us not to women.
Ho, ho, ho!
Now the witch take me if I meant it thus !
Grace grow where those drops fall! My hearty friends,
You take me in too dolorous a sense ;
For I spake to you for your comfort, -did desire you
To burn this night with torches: know, my hearts,
I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you
Where rather I'll expect victorious life,
Than death and honour. Let's to supper ; come,
And drown consideration.