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And he will fill thy wishes to the brim
With principalities.
That head, my lord?

Cleo.

Ant. To him again. Tell him, he wears the rose Of youth upon him, from which the world should

note

Something particular: his coin, ships, legions,

May be a coward's; whose ministers would prevail
Under the service of a child, as soon

As i' the command of Cæsar: I dare him, therefore,
To lay his gay comparisons apart,

And answer me declin'd; sword against sword,
Ourselves alone. I'll write it: follow me.

[Exeunt ANTONY and EUPHRONIUS.
Eno. Yes, like enough, high-battled Cæsar will
Unstate his happiness, and be stag'd t' the show
Against a sworder.-I see, men's judgments are
A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward
Do draw the inward quality after them,
To suffer all alike. That he should dream,
Knowing all measures, the full Cæsar will
Answer his emptiness!-Cæsar, thou hast subdu'd
His judgment too,

Enter an Attendant.

Att.

A messenger from Cæsar.

Cleo. What no more ceremony?-See, my women!— Against the blown rose may they stop their nose, That kneel'd unto the buds.-Admit him, sir.

Eno. Mine honesty and I begin to square'. [Aside.

The loyalty well held to fools does make

Our faith mere folly: yet he, that can endure
To follow with allegiance a fallen lord,
Does conquer him that did his master conquer,
And earns a place i' the story.

1 - begin to SQUARE.] i. e. begin to quarrel. See this Vol. p. 28. VOL. VIII.

G

Cleo.

Enter THYREUS.

Thyr. Hear it apart.

Cleo.

Cæsar's will?

None but friends: say boldly.

Thyr. So, haply, are they friends to Antony.

Eno. He needs as many, sir, as Cæsar has, Or needs not us. If Cæsar please, our master Will leap to be his friend: for us, you know, Whose he is, we are, and that's Cæsar's.

Thyr.

So.

Thus then, thou most renown'd: Cæsar entreats,
Not to consider in what case thou stand'st,

Farther than he is Cæsar's.

Cleo.

Go on right royal.

Thyr. He knows, that you embrace not Antony As you did love, but as you fear'd him.

Cleo.

O!

Thyr. The scars upon your honour, therefore, he Does pity, as constrained blemishes,

Not as deserv'd.

Cleo.

He is a god, and knows

What is most right. Mine honour was not yielded, But conquer'd merely.

Eno.

I will ask Antony.-Sir, sir, thou'rt so leaky,
That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for

[Aside.] To be sure of that,

[Exit ENOBARbus.

Shall I say to Cæsar

Thy dearest quit thee.
Thyr.

What you require of him? for he partly begs
To be desir'd to give. It much would please him,
That of his fortunes you should make a staff
To lean upon; but it would warm his spirits,
To hear from me you had left Antony,

And put yourself under his shroud,

The universal landlord.

Cleo.

What's your name?

Thyr. My name is Thyreus.

Cleo.

Most kind messenger,

Say to great Cæsar this: In disputation2

I kiss his conqu❜ring hand: tell him, I am prompt
To lay my crown at 's feet, and there to kneel:
Tell him, from his all-obeying breath I hear
The doom of Egypt.

Thyr.
'Tis your noblest course.
Wisdom and fortune combating together,

If that the former dare but what it can,

No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay
My duty on your hand.

Cleo.

Your Cæsar's father oft,

When he hath mus'd of taking kingdoms in,
Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place,

[blocks in formation]

You will be whipp'd.

The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest

To have command obey'd.

Eno.

Ant. Approach, there.-Ay, you kite!-Now gods

and devils!

Authority melts from me: of late, when I cry'd, "ho!"
Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth,
And cry, "Your will?" Have you no ears?

Enter Attendants.

I am

Antony yet. Take hence this Jack, and whip him.

2

IN DISPUTATION] Warburton read deputation; but as a clear meaning is afforded by “disputation," in the sense of controversy, or contest, we adhere to the text of all the old editions, At the same time the plausibility of Warburton's change is not to be disputed.

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

Than with an old one dying.

Ant.

Moon and stars!

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,-

Tug him away: being whipp'd,

Ant.
Bring him again.-The 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 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?

Cleo.

Good my lord,

Ant. You have been a boggler ever :—
But when we in our viciousness grow hard,
(O misery on't!) the wise gods seel our eyes3;

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,
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.

- the wise gods SEEL our eyes ;]

To "seel" the eyes of a hawk was a

term in falconry. See Vol. vii. p. 141. It was perhaps only another form of seal, and it is sometimes doubtful which form should be preserved.

Cleo.

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!—O! 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 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.

Cry'd 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 '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 enfranchis'd 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! [Exit THYREUS.

Cleo. Have you done yet?

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