But conquer'd meerly.

Eno. To be fure of that,

I will ask Antony

-Sir, thou'rt fo leaky,

That we must leave thee to thy finking, for
Thy deareft quit thee.

Thyr. Shall I fay to Cæfar

What you require of him? he partly begs,

[Exit Eno.

To be defir'd to give. It much would please him,
That of his fortunes you would make a staff

To lean upon. But it would warm his spirits,

To hear from me you had left Antony,

To put yourself under his fhroud, the universal landlord. Cleo. What's your name?

Thyr. My name is Thyreus.

Cleo. Moft kind meffenger, (25)

Say to great Cæfar this; in deputation

I kifs his conqu❜ring hand; tell him, I'm prompt
To lay my crown at's feet, and there to kneel.
Tell him, that from his all-obeying breath

I hear the doom of Egypt.

Thyr. 'Tis your nobleft course :
Wifdom and fortune combating together,

If that the former dare but what it can,
No chance may fhake it. Give me grace to lay
My duty on your hand.

Cleo. Your Cafar's father oft,

When he hath mus'd of taking Kingdoms in,

(25) Moft kind Meffenger,

Say to great Cæfar this in Difputation,

I kifs bis conqu'ring band:]

Again, the Pointing and Text must be corrected. If the Sagacious Editors can reasonably expound Disputation here, I allow them to fee farther into a Milftone than I pretend to do. The Poet certainly wrote, (as Mr. Warburton likewise saw, we must reftore ;)

Moft kind Meffenger,

Say to great Cæfar this; in Deputation

I kifs bis conqu'ring band :

i. e. by Proxy; I depute you to pay him that Duty in my Name,

Beflow'd

Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place,

As it rain'd kiffes.

Enter Antony and Enobarbus.

Ant. Favours! by Jove! that thunders.

What art thou, fellow?

[Seeing Thyreus kifs her band.

Thyr. One that but performs

The bidding of the fulleft man, and worthiest

To have command obey'd.
Eno. You will be whipp'd.
Ant. Approach there
and Devils!

ah, you kite! now, Gods

Authority melts from me of late

When I cry'd, hoa!

Like boys unto a mufs, Kings would start forth,

And cry, your will? have you no ears?

I'm Antony yet. Take hence this Jack, and whip him.

Enter Servants.

Eno. 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp,

Than with an old one dying.

Ant. Moon and ftars!

Whip him :

butaries

Were't twenty of the greatest Tri

That do acknowledge Cafar, fhould I find them

So fawcy with the hand of She here, (what's her name,
Since the was Cleopatra ?)-whip him, fellows-
'Till, like a boy, you fee him cringe his face,
And whine aloud for mercy. Take him hence.
Thyr Mark Antony-

Ant. Tug him away; being whip'd,
Bring him again: this Jack of Cafar's fhall
Bear us an errand to him.

[Exeunt with Thyreus.

You were half blafted ere I knew you: ha!
Have I my pillow left unpreft in Rome,
Forborn the getting of a lawful race,
And by a jem of women, to be abus'd
By one that looks on feeders?
Cleo. Good my Lord,

Ant. You have been a boggler ever.

But

But when we in our vicioufnefs grow hard,
(Oh mifery on't!) the wife Gods feal our eyes
In our own filth, drop our clear judgments, make us
Adore our errors, laugh at's while we ftrut

To our confufion.

Cleo. Oh, is't come to this?

Ant. I found you as a morfel, cold upon
Dead Cæfar's trencher: nay, you were a fragment
Of Cneius Pompey's; befides what hotter hours,
Unregiftred in vulgar fame, you have
Luxuriously pickt out. For, I am fure,

Though you can guess what temperance fhould 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 play-fellow, 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 a Servant, with Thyreus.

Ser. Soundly, my lord.

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

Ser. He did ask favour.

Ant. If that thy father live, let him repent

Thou waft not made his daughter; and be thou forry To follow Cafar in his triumph, fince

Thou haft been whipp'd for following him. Henceforth,
The white hand of a lady fever thee,

Shake to look on't.-Go, get thee back to Cæfar,
Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou fay,
He makes me angry with him: For he seems
Proud and difdainful, harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry;
And, at this time, moft eafie 'tis to do't:
When my good ftars, that were my former guides,

Have empty left their orbs, and fhot their fires
Into the abyfm of hell. If he mislike
My fpeech, and what is done, tell him, he has
Hipparchus my enfranchis'd bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he hall like, to quit me. Urge it thou:
Hence with thy ftripes, be gone. [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 Cafar, would you mingle eyes
With one that tyes his points?

Cleo. Not know me yet?

Ant. Cold-hearted toward me!

Cleo. Ah, dear, if I be fo,

From my cold heart let heaven ingender hail,
And poison't in the fource, and the first stone
Drop in my neck; as it determines, fo
Diffolve my life? the next Cæfario fmite!
'Till by degrees the memory of my womb,
Together with my brave Egyptians all,
(26) By the difcandying of this pelletted ftorm,
Lie gravelefs; 'till the flies and gnats of Nile,
Have buried them for prey!

Ant. I'm fatisfied:

Cafar fets down in Alexandria, where
I will oppofe his fate. Our force by land
Hath nobly held; our fever'd navy too

(26) By the difcattering of this pellettediStorm,] This Reading we owe first, I prefume, to Mr. Rowe, and Mr. Pope has very faithfully fall'n into it. The old Folio's read, difcandering : from which Corruption both Dr. Thirlby and I faw, we muft retrieve the Word with which I have reform'd the Text. Cleopatra's Wifh is this; that the Gods would engender Hail, and poifon it; and that as it fell upon her and her Subjects, and melted, their Lives might determine, as That diffolv'd and difcandied the congealing of the Water into Hail he meta- phorically calls candying; and it is an Image he is fond of, in feveral other passages.

Have

Have knit again, and float, threatning moft fea like.
Where haft thou been, my heart? doft thou hear, lady?
If from the field I fhould return once more

To kifs thefe 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 my hours
Were nice and lucky, men did ransome 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, t' have held it poor: But fince
Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.

Ant. We will yet do well.

Cleo. Call all his noble captains to my lord.

my
lord

Ant. Do fo, we'll speak to them, and to night I'll force

The wine peep through their fears. 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
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 eftridge; and, I fee ftill,
A diminution in our captain's brain

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

[Exit