Shakespeare's First Folio Part 645

Iras. Not in my Husbands nose

Char. Our worser thoughts Heauens mend

Alexas. Come, his Fortune, his Fortune. Oh let him mary a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee, and let her dye too, and giue him a worse, and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his graue, fifty-fold a Cuckold. Good Isis heare me this Prayer, though thou denie me a matter of more waight: good Isis I beseech thee

Iras. Amen, deere G.o.ddesse, heare that prayer of the people. For, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-Wiu'd, so it is a deadly sorrow, to beholde a foule Knaue vncuckolded: Therefore deere Isis keep decorum, and Fortune him accordingly

Char. Amen

Alex. Lo now, if it lay in their hands to make mee a Cuckold, they would make themselues Wh.o.r.es, but they'ld doo't.

Enter Cleopatra.

En.o.b. Hush, heere comes Anthony

Char. Not he, the Queene

Cleo. Saue you, my Lord

En.o.b. No Lady

Cleo. Was he not heere?

Char. No Madam

Cleo. He was dispos'd to mirth, but on the sodaine A Romane thought hath strooke him.

En.o.barbus?

En.o.b. Madam

Cleo. Seeke him, and bring him hither: wher's Alexias?

Alex. Heere at your seruice.

My Lord approaches.

Enter Anthony, with a Messenger.

Cleo. We will not looke vpon him: Go with vs.

Exeunt.

Messen. Fuluia thy Wife, First came into the Field

Ant. Against my Brother Lucius?

Messen. I: but soone that Warre had end, And the times state Made friends of them, ioynting their force 'gainst Caesar, Whose better issue in the warre from Italy, Vpon the first encounter draue them

Ant. Well, what worst

Mess. The Nature of bad newes infects the Teller

Ant. When it concernes the Foole or Coward: On.

Things that are past, are done, with me. 'Tis thus, Who tels me true, though in his Tale lye death, I heare him as he flatter'd

Mes. Labienus (this is stiffe-newes) Hath with his Parthian Force Extended Asia: from Euphrates his conquering Banner shooke, from Syria to Lydia, And to Ionia, whil'st- Ant. Anthony thou would'st say

Mes. Oh my Lord

Ant. Speake to me home, Mince not the generall tongue, name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome: Raile thou in Fuluia's phrase, and taunt my faults With such full License, as both Truth and Malice Haue power to vtter. Oh then we bring forth weeds, When our quicke windes lye still, and our illes told vs Is as our earing: fare thee well awhile

Mes. At your n.o.ble pleasure.

Exit Messenger

Enter another Messenger.

Ant. From Scicion how the newes? Speake there

1.Mes. The man from Scicion, Is there such an one?

2.Mes. He stayes vpon your will

Ant. Let him appeare: These strong Egyptian Fetters I must breake, Or loose my selfe in dotage.

Enter another Messenger with a Letter.

What are you?

3.Mes. Fuluia thy wife is dead

Ant. Where dyed she

Mes. In Scicion, her length of sicknesse, With what else more serious, Importeth thee to know, this beares

Antho. Forbeare me There's a great Spirit gone, thus did I desire it: What our contempts doth often hurle from vs, We wish it ours againe. The present pleasure, By reuolution lowring, does become The opposite of it selfe: she's good being gon, The hand could plucke her backe, that shou'd her on.

I must from this enchanting Queene breake off, Ten thousand harmes, more then the illes I know My idlenesse doth hatch.

Enter En.o.barbus.

How now En.o.barbus

Eno. What's your pleasure, Sir?

Anth. I must with haste from hence

Eno. Why then we kill all our Women. We see how mortall an vnkindnesse is to them, if they suffer our departure death's the word

Ant. I must be gone

Eno. Vnder a compelling an occasion, let women die.

It were pitty to cast them away for nothing, though betweene them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra catching but the least noyse of this, dies instantly: I haue seene her dye twenty times vppon farre poorer moment: I do think there is mettle in death, which commits some louing acte vpon her, she hath such a celerity in dying

Ant. She is cunning past mans thought

Eno. Alacke Sir no, her pa.s.sions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure Loue. We cannot cal her winds and waters, sighes and teares: They are greater stormes and Tempests then Almanackes can report. This cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a showre of Raine as well as Ioue

Ant. Would I had neuer seene her

Eno. Oh sir, you had then left vnseene a wonderfull peece of worke, which not to haue beene blest withall, would haue discredited your Trauaile