The stale of horses, and the gilded puddles deign The roughest berry on the rudest hedge; Lep. It is pity of him. Cæs. Let his shames quickly Drive him to Rome: 'Tis time we twain Did show ourselves i' the field; and, to that end, Thrives in our idleness. Lep. To-morrow, Cæsar, I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly To 'front this present time. Cæs. Till which encounter, It is my business too. Farewell. Lep. Farewell, my lord: What you shall know mean time Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir, To let me be partaker. I knew it for my bond. 6 Doubt not, sir; [Exeunt. 4 Urine. 5 Stagnant, slimy water. My bounden duty. Cleo. That I might sleep out this great gap of time, Mar. What's your highness' pleasure? Cleo. Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure In aught an eunuch has: 'Tis well for thee, Cleo. Indeed? Mar. Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing But what in deed is honest to be done : Yet have I fierce affections, and think, What Venus did with Mars. Cleo. 7 A sleepy potion. O Charmian, • Unmanned. Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he? Or does he walk? or is he on his horse ? With looking on his life. Enter ALEXAS. Alex. Sovereign of Egypt, hail! Cleo. How much unlike art thou Mark Antony? Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath With his tinct gilded thee. How goes it with my brave Mark Antony? Alex. Last thing he did, dear queen, He kiss'd, the last of many doubled kisses,This orient pearl;-His speech sticks in my heart. Cleo. Mine ear must pluck it thence. Alex. Good friend, quoth he, Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends 9 A helmet. To mend the petty present, I will piece Her opulent throne with kingdoms; All the east, Say thou, shall call her mistress. So he nodded, And soberly did mount a termagant1 steed, Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke Was beastly dumb'd by him. Cleo. What, was he sad, or merry? Alex. Like to the time o'the year between the extremes Of hot and cold; he was nor sad, nor merry. Cleo. O well-divided 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 looks by his: he was not merry; Which seem'd to tell them, his remembrance lay In Egypt with his joy: but between both; O heavenly mingle!-Be'st thou sad, or merry, The violence of either thee becomes; So does it no man else.-Met'st thou my posts? Alex. Ay, madam, twenty several messengers: Why do you send so thick? Cleo. Who's born that day When I forget to send to Antony, Ever love Cæsar so? Char. O that brave Cæsar! Cleo. Be chok'd with such another emphasis! Say, the brave Antony. The valiant Cæsar! Cleo. By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, • Furious. If thou with Cæsar paragon again My man of men. Char. By your most gracious pardon, I sing but after you. My sallad days; When I was green in judgment : -Cold in blood, [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. Messina. A Room in Pompey's House. Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS. Pom. If the great gods be just, they shall assist The deeds of justest men. Mene. Know, worthy Pompey, That what they do delay, they not deny. The thing we sue for. Mene. We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good; so find we profit, By losing of our prayers. Pom. I shall do well : The people love me, and the sea is mine; In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make No wars without doors: Cæsar gets money, where |