Whip him.-Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries
That do acknowledge Cæsar, should I find them
So saucy 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,-

Ant.

Tug him away; being whipped, Bring him again. This Jack of Cæsar's shall Bear us an errand to him.

[Exeunt Attend., with THYREUS.

You were half blasted ere I knew you.-Ha!
Have I my pillow left unpressed in Rome,
Forborne the getting of a lawful race,
And by a gem of women, to be abused
By one that looks on feeders?

Cleo.

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 seel our eyes;
In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us
Adore our errors; laugh at us while we strut
To our confusion.

Cleo.

O, is it 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,
Unregistered in vulgar fame, you have

Luxuriously picked out.- For, I am sure,

Though you can guess what temperance should be,
You know not what it is.

Wherefore is this?

Cleo.
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;
And to proclaim it civilly, were like

A haltered neck, which does the hangman thank
For being yare about him.-Is he whipped?

Re-enter Attendants, with THYREUS.

1 Att. Soundly, my lord.

Ant. Cried he? and begged he pardon? 1 Att. He did ask favor.

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 whipped 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 'tis 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 enfranchised bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he shall like, to quit me. Urge it thou;
Hence, with thy stripes; begone.
Cleo. Have you done yet?

Ant.

[Exit THYREUS.

Alack, our terrene moon

Is now eclipsed; and it portends alone
The fall of Antony!

Cleo.

I must stay his time.

Ant. To flatter Cæsar, would you mingle eyes With one that ties his points?

Cleo.

Ant. Cold-hearted toward me?
Cleo.

Not know me yet?

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 pelleted storm,
Lie graveless; till the flies and gnats of Nile
Have buried them for prey!

Ant.
I am satisfied.
Cæsar sits down in Alexandria; where

I will oppose his fate. Our force by land
Hath nobly held; our severed navy too

Have knit again, and fleet, threatening 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 is hope in it yet.

Cleo.
That's my brave lord!
Ant. I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed,
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 gaudy night: call to me
All my sad captains; fill our bowls; once more
Let's mock the midnight bell.

Cleo.

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'll 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 ANT., CLEO., and Attendants.
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 valor preys on reason,
It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek
Some way to leave him.

[Exit.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Cæsar's Camp at Alexandria.

Enter CESAR, reading a letter; AGRIPPA, MECENAS, and others.

Cæs. He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power To beat me out of Egypt: my messenger

He hath whipped 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.

Mec.

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.

Cæs.
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 served Mark Antony but late,
Enough to fetch him in. See it be done;
And feast the army; we have store to do't,
And they have earned the waste. Poor Antony!

[Exeunt.

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.

Eno.

Ant. Why should he not?

No.

Eno. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, He is twenty men to one.

Ant.

To-morrow, soldier,

By sea and land I'll fight; or I will live,

Or bathe my dying honor in the blood

Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well?
Eno. I'll strike; and cry, Take all.

Well said; come on.

Ant.
Call forth my household servants; let's to-night

Enter Servants.

Be bounteous at our meal.-Give me thy hand;
Thou hast been rightly honest;-so hast thou;
And thou, and thou,-and thou:-you have served me

well,

And kings have been your fellows.

Cleo.

What means this?

Eno. '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 clapped up together in
An Antony; that I might do you service,
So good as you have done.

[Aside.

Serv.

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 suffered my command."

Cleo.

What does he mean?

Eno. To make his followers weep.
Ant.

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. Í 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!

Eno.

What mean you, sir, To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep; And I, an ass, am onion-eyed; for shame, Transform us not to women.

Ant.

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.

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 honor. Let's to supper; come,
And drown consideration.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. The same. Before the Palace.

Enter two Soldiers, to their guard.

1 Sold. Brother, good night; to-morrow is the day. 2 Sold. It will determine one way; fare you well! Heard you of nothing strange about the streets? 1 Sold. Nothing. What news?