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  • Title: Anthony and Cleopatra (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editor: Randall Martin

    • ISBN: 978-1-55058-433-2

    Copyright Randall Martin. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Randall Martin
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Anthony and Cleopatra (Folio 1, 1623)

    344 The Tragedie of
    To rot it selfe with motion.
    Mes. Caesar I bring thee word,
    Menacrates and Menas famous Pyrates
    Makes the Sea serue them, which they eare and wound
    485With keeles of euery kinde. Many hot inrodes
    They make in Italy, the Borders Maritime
    Lacke blood to thinke on't, and flush youth reuolt,
    No Vessell can peepe forth: but 'tis as soone
    Taken as seene: for Pompeyes name strikes more
    490Then could his Warre resisted
    Caesar. Anthony,
    Leaue thy lasciuious Vassailes. When thou once
    Was beaten from Medena, where thou slew'st
    Hirsius, and Pausa Consuls, at thy heele
    495Did Famine follow, whom thou fought'st against,
    (Though daintily brought vp) with patience more
    Then Sauages could suffer. Thou did'st drinke
    The stale of Horses, and the gilded Puddle
    Which Beasts would cough at. Thy pallat thẽ did daine
    500The roughest Berry, on the rudest Hedge.
    Yea, like the Stagge, when Snow the Pasture sheets,
    The barkes of Trees thou brows'd. On the Alpes,
    It is reported thou did'st eate strange flesh,
    Which some did dye to looke on: And all this
    505(It wounds thine Honor that I speake it now)
    Was borne so like a Soldiour, that thy cheeke
    So much as lank'd not.
    Lep. 'Tis pitty of him.
    Caes. Let his shames quickely
    510Driue him to Rome, 'tis time we twaine
    Did shew our selues i'th' Field, and to that end
    Assemble me immediate counsell, Pompey
    Thriues in our Idlenesse.
    Lep. To morrow Caesar,
    515I shall be furnisht to informe you rightly
    Both what by Sea and Land I can be able
    To front this present time.
    Caes. Til which encounter, it is my busines too. Farwell.
    Lep. Farwell my Lord, what you shal know mean time
    520Of stirres abroad, I shall beseech you Sir
    To let me be partaker.
    Caesar. Doubt not sir, I knew it for my Bond. Exeunt
    Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, & Mardian.
    Cleo. Charmian.
    525Char. Madam.
    Cleo. Ha, ha, giue me to drinke Mandragora.
    Char. Why Madam?
    Cleo. That I might sleepe out this great gap of time:
    My Anthony is away.
    530Char. You thinke of him too much.
    Cleo. O 'tis Treason.
    Char. Madam, I trust not so.
    Cleo. Thou, Eunuch Mardian?
    Mar. What's your Highnesse pleasure?
    535Cleo. Not now to heare thee sing. I take no pleasure
    In ought an Eunuch ha's: Tis well for thee,
    That being vnseminar'd, thy freer thoughts
    May not flye forth of Egypt. Hast thou Affections?
    Mar. Yes gracious Madam.
    540Cleo. Indeed?
    Mar. Not in deed Madam, for I can do nothing
    But what in deede is honest to be done:
    Yet haue I fierce Affections, and thinke
    What Venus did with Mars.
    545Cleo. Oh Charmion:
    Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he?

    Or does he walke? Or is he on his Horse?
    Oh happy horse to beare the weight of Anthony!
    Do brauely Horse, for wot'st thou whom thou moou'st,
    550The demy Atlas of this Earth, the Arme
    And Burganet of men. Hee's speaking now,
    Or murmuring, where's my Serpent of old Nyle,
    (For so he cals me:) Now I feede my selfe
    With most delicious poyson. Thinke on me
    555That am with Phoebus amorous pinches blacke,
    And wrinkled deepe in time. Broad-fronted Caesar,
    When thou was't heere aboue the ground, I was
    A morsell for a Monarke: and great Pompey
    Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow,
    560There would he anchor his Aspect, and dye
    With looking on his life.

    Enter Alexas from Caesar.
    Alex. Soueraigne of Egypt, haile.
    Cleo. How much vnlike art thou Marke Anthony?
    565Yet comming from him, that great Med'cine hath
    With his Tinct gilded thee.
    How goes it with my braue Marke Anthonie?
    Alex. Last thing he did (deere Quene)
    He kist the last of many doubled kisses
    570This Orient Pearle. His speech stickes in my heart.
    Cleo. Mine eare must plucke it thence.
    Alex. Good Friend, quoth he:
    Say the firme Roman to great Egypt sends
    This treasure of an Oyster: at whose foote
    575To mend the petty present, I will peece
    Her opulent Throne, with Kingdomes. All the East,
    (Say thou) shall call her Mistris. So he nodded,
    And soberly did mount an Arme-gaunt Steede,
    Who neigh'd so hye, that what I would haue spoke,
    580Was beastly dumbe by him.
    Cleo. What was he sad, or merry?
    Alex. Like to the time o'th' yeare, between ye extremes
    Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merrie.
    Cleo. Oh well diuided disposition: Note him,
    585Note him good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him.
    He was not sad, for he would shine on those
    That make their lookes by his. He was not merrie,
    Which seem'd to tell them, his remembrance lay
    In Egypt with his ioy, but betweene both.
    590Oh heauenly mingle! Bee'st thou sad, or merrie,
    The violence of either thee becomes,
    So do's it no mans else. Met'st thou my Posts?
    Alex. I Madam, twenty seuerall Messengers.
    Why do you send so thicke?
    595Cleo. Who's borne that day, when I forget to send
    to Anthonie, shall dye a Begger. Inke and paper Char-
    mian. Welcome my good Alexas. Did I Charmian, e-
    uer loue Caesar so?
    Char. Oh that braue Caesar!
    600Cleo. Be choak'd with such another Emphasis,
    Say the braue Anthony.
    Char. The valiant Caesar.
    Cleo. By Isis, I will giue thee bloody teeth,
    If thou with Caesar Paragon againe:
    605My man of men.
    Char. By your most gracious pardon,
    I sing but after you.
    Cleo. My Sallad dayes,
    When I was greene in iudgement, cold in blood,
    610To say, as I saide then. But come, away,
    Get me Inke and Paper,
    Hee
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