Cleo. Thou, Eunuch Mardian? Mar. What's your Highnesse pleasure? Cleo. 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

Cleo. 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

Cleo. 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, The 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 That 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, There 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? Yet 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 Queene) He kist the last of many doubled kisses This 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 To 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, Was beastly dumbe by him

Cleo. What was he sad, or merry? Alex. Like to the time o'th' yeare, between y extremes Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merrie

Cleo. Oh well diuided disposition: Note him, Note 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. Oh 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? Cleo. Who's borne that day, when I forget to send to Anthonie, shall dye a Begger. Inke and paper Charmian. Welcome my good Alexas. Did I Charmian, euer loue Caesar so? Char. Oh that braue Caesar! Cleo. 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: My 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, To say, as I saide then. But come, away, Get me Inke and Paper, he shall haue euery day a seuerall greeting, or Ile vnpeople Egypt.


Enter Pompey, Menecrates, and Menas, in warlike manner.

Pom. If the great Gods be iust, they shall assist The deeds of iustest men

Mene. Know worthy Pompey, that what they do delay, they not deny

Pom. Whiles we are sutors to their Throne, decayes the thing we sue for

Mene. We ignorant of our selues, Begge often our owne harmes, which the wise Powres Deny vs for our good: so finde we profit By loosing of our Prayers

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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