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Ant. When it concerns the Fool or Coward; on.
Mef. Labienus, this is ftiff News,
Hath, with his Parthian Force, extended Asia;
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 :
Mef. At your noble Pleasure.
Ant. From Scicion how the News? fpeak there.
Ant. Let him appear;
Thefe strong Ægyptian Fetters I must break,
2 Mef. In Scicion, her length of Sickness With what elfe more ferious,
Importeth thee to know, this bears.
Ant. Forbear me.
There's a great Spirit gone, thus did I defire it,
Eno. What's your pleasure, Sir? Ant. I muft with hafte from hence. Eno. Why th we kill all our Women. We fee how mortal an Unkniefs is to them, if they fuffer our depar ture, Death' .h word.
Ant. I must be gone.
Eno. Under a compelling occafion, let women die. It were pity to caft them away for nothing, though between them and a great caufe, they should 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 act upon her, the 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 cannot 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. 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 Men 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. The Bufinefs the 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
Eno. I fhall do't.
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.
The like from him.
Cleo. What fhould I do, I do not?
Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in nothing.
Char. Tempt him not, fo, too far. I wish, forbear, Intime we hate that which we often fear.
But here comes Antony.
Ant. I am forry to give Breathing to my purpose.
It cannot be thus long, the fides of Nature [Seeming to faint.
Ant. Now, my dearest 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 'tis I that keep you here, I have no Pow'r upon you: Hers you are. Ant. The Gods belt know.
Cleo, Oh never was there Queen
Cleo. Why should I think you can be mine, and true,
Ant. Moft fweet Queen,
Cleo. Nay pray you feek no colour for your going,
Blifs in our Brows bent, none our Parts fo poor,
Ant. How now, Lady?
Clee. I would I had thy Inches, thou shouldst know
There were a Heart in Ægypt.
Ant. Hear me, Queen;
The strong neceffity of time, commands
Our fervices awhile; but my full Heart
Breed fcrupulous Faction; the hated, grown to Strength,
Cleo. Though Age from Folly could not give me freedom, It does from Childifhnefs. Can Fulvia die?
Ant. She's dead, my Queen,
Look here, and at thy Sovereign leifure read
Cleo. O moft falfe Love!
Where be the facred Viols thou fhould't fill
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know
Clee. 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
Cleo. So Fulvia told me.
I prethee turn afide, and weep for her,