Ant. When it concerns the Fool or Coward; on.
Things that are paft, are done, with me. 'Tis thus,
Who tells me true, though in his Tale lye Death,
1 hear him as he flitter'd.

Mef. Labienus, this is ftiff News,

Hath, with his Parthian Force, extended Asia;
From Euphrates his conquering

Banner fhook, from Syria to Lydia,
And to Ionia, whlft

Ant. Antony thou would'st say.
Mef. Oh, my Lord.

Ant. Speak to me home, mince not the general Tongue, Name Cleopatra as fhe is call'd in Rome:

Rail thou in Fulvia's Phrase, and taunt my Faults
With fuch full Licenfe, as both Truth and Malice
Have Power to utter. Oh then we bring forth Weeds;
When our quick Winds lye ftill, and our ills told us
Is as our Earing; fare thee well a while.

Mef. At your noble Pleasure.

Ant. From Scicion how the News? fpeak there.
Mef. The Man from Scicion, is there fuch an one?
Attend. He stays upon your will.

Ant. Let him appear;

Thefe ftrong Egyptian Fetters I muft break,
Or lofe my felf in Dotage. What are you?
Enter another Meffenger with a Letter:

2 Mef. Fulvia thy Wife is dead.

Ant. Where died fhe?

2 Mef. In Scicion, her length of Sickness With what elfe more serious,

Importeth thee to know, this bears.

Ant. Forbear me.

There's a great Spirit gone, thus did I defire it,
What our Contempts do often hurl from us.
We wish it Hours again, the prefent Pleasure,
By revolution lowring, does become

The oppofite of it felf; fhe's good being gone,
The Hand could pluck her back, that fhov'd heron.
I muft from this Agytian Queen break off.
Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know
My idleness doth hatch. How now Enobarbus?

Enter

Enter Enobarbus.

Eno. What's your pleasure, Sir?

Ant. I muft with hafte from hence.

Eno. Why the we kill all our Women. We fee how mortal an Unkenmefs is to them, if they fuffer our depar ture, Death' .he word.

Ant. I must be gone.

Exo. Under a compelling occafion, let women die. It were pity to caft them away for nothing, though between them and a great caufe, they fhould be efteem'd nothing, Cleopatra catching but the leaft noise of this dies inftantly; I have feen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is Mettle in Death, which commits fome loving a& upon her, fhe hath fuch a Celerity in Dying. Ant. She is cunning paft Man's Thought.

Eno. Alack, Sir, no, her Paffions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure Love. We cannot call her Winds and Waters, Sighs and Tears: And yet they are greater Storms and Tempefts than Almanacks can report. This can

not be cunning in her: if it be, the makes a Show'r of Rain as well as Jove.

Ant. Would I had never feen her.

Eno. Oh Sir, you had then left unfeen a wonderful Piece of Work, which not to have been bleft withal, would have difcredited your Travel.

Ant. Fulvia is dead

Eno. Sir !

Ant. Fulvia is dead.
Eno. Fulvia ?

Ant. Dead.

Eno. Why Sir, give the Gods a thankful Sacrifice: when it pleafeth their Deities to take the Wife of a Man from him, it fhews to Man the Tailors of the Earth: Comforting him therein, that when old Robes are worn out, there are Members to make new. If there were no more Women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the cafe were to be lamented: This Grief is crowned with Confolation, your old Smock brings forth a new Petticoat, and indeed the Tears live in an Onion, that fhould water this Sorrow.

Ant

Ant. The Business she hath broach'd here in the State, Cannot endure my Abfence.

Eno. And the Bufinefs you have broach'd here cannot be without you, especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your Aboad.

Ant. No more like Anfwers: Let our Officers
Have notice what we purpofe. I fhall break.
The cause of our Expedience to the Queen,
And get her Love to part. For not alone
The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches
Do ftrongly speak to us, but the Letters too
Of many our contriving Friends in Rome,
Petition us at home. Sextus Pompeius
Hath giv'n the Dare to Cafar, and commands.
The Empire of the Sea. Our flipp'ry People, A
Whofe Love is never link'd to the Deferver,
Till his Deferts are past, begin to throw
Pompey the Great, and all his Dignities
Upon his Son, who high in Name and Pow'r,
Higher than both in Blood and Life, ftands. up

For the main Soldier; Whofe Quality going on,

The fides o' th' World may danger. Much is breeding
Which like the Courfer's Hair, hath yet but Life,
And not a Serpent's Poifon. Say our Pleasure,
To fuch whofe place is under us, requires
Our quick remove from hence.

Eno. I fhall do't.

[Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Iras.

Cleo. Where is he?

Char, I did not fee him fince.

Cleo. See where he is, who's with him, what he do's a

I did not fend you. If you find him fad,

Say I am dancing: if in Mirth, report

That I am fudden fick. Quickly, and return,

Char. Madam, methinks if you did love him dearly,

You do not hold the method, to enforce

The like from him.

Cleo. What fhould I do, I do not?

Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in nothing.
Cleo. Thou te cheft like a Fool: the way to lofe him.

Char.

Char. Tempt him not, fo, too far. I wish, forbear, Intime we hate that which we often fear.

Enter Antony.

But here comes Antony.

Cleo. I am Sick, and fullen.

Ant. I am forry to give Breathing to my purpose.
Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian, I shall fall,

It cannot be thus long, the fides of Nature [Seeming to faime.
Will not fuftain it.

Ant. Now, my deareft Queen.

Cleo. Pray you ftand farther from me.

Ant. What's the matter?

Cleo. I know by that fame Eye there's fome good News.
What fays the marry'd Woman? you may go;
Would he had never given you leave to come,
Let her not say 'cis I that keep you here,
I have no Pow'r upon you: Hers you are.
Ant. The Gods bett know.

Cleo. Oh never was there Queen
So mightily betrayed; yet at the first
I faw the Treafons planted.

Ant. Cleopatra.

Cleo. Why should I think you can be mine, and true,
Though you with Swearing thake the throned Gods,
Who have been falle to Fulvia? Riotous Madness!
To be entangled with thefe Mouth-made Vows,
Which break themselves in Swearing.

Ant. Moft fweet Queen,

Cleo. Nay pray you feek no colour for your going,
But bid farewel, and go: When you fued ftaying,
Then was the time for words: No going then,
Eternity was in our Lips, and Eyes,

Blifs in our Brows bent, none our Parts fo poor,
But was a race of Heav'n. They are fo fbill,
Or thou the greatest Soldier of the World,

Art turn'd the greater Liar.

Ant. How now, Lady?

Cleo. I would I had thy Inches, thou should'st know There were a Heart in Ægypt.

Ant. Hear me, Queen;

The ftrong neceflity of time, commands

Our

Our fervices awhile; but my full Heart
Remains in ufe with you. Our Italy

Shines o'er with civil Swords; Sextus Pompeius
Makes his approaches to the Port of Rome.

Equality of two Domeftick Pow'rs,

Breed fcrupulous Faction; the hated, grown to Strength,
Are newly grown to Love; the condem'd Pompey,
Rich in his Father's Honour, creeps apace,
Into the Hearts of fuch, as have not thriv'n
Upon the present State, whofe Numbers threaten,
And Quietnefs grown fick of reft, would purge
By any defperate change. My more particular,
And that which most with you should fave my going,

Is Fulvia's Death.

Cleo. Though Age from Folly could not give me freedom, It does from Childishness. Can Fulvia die?

Ant. She's dead, my Queen,

Look here, and at thy Sovereign leifure read
The Garboyls fhe awak'd; at the laft, beft.
See when, and where fhe died.

Cleo. O moft falfe Love!

Where be the facred Viols thou should'st fill
With forrowful Water? Now I fee, I fee,
In Fulvia's death, how mine fhall be receiv'd.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know
The purposes I bear: which are, or ceafe,
As you fhall give th' advice. By the Fire
That quickens Nilus Smile, I go from hence
Thy Soldier, Servant, making Peace or War,
As thou affect'ft.

Glee. Cut my Lace, Charmian, come,
But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well,

So Anthony loves.

Ant. My precious Queen forbear,

And give true evidence to his Love, which ftands
An honourable Trial.

Cleo. So Fulvia told me.

I prethee turn afide, and weep for her,
Then bid adieu to me, and fay the Tears

Belong to Ægppt. Good now, play one Scene
Of excellent diffembling, and let it look