For so he calls me; Now I feed myself With looking on his life. Alex. Enter ALEXAS. 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? He kiss'd, the last of many doubled kisses,— Alex. Good friend, quoth he, Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends Her opulent throne with kingdoms; All the east, Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke 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 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, Shall die a beggar.-Ink and paper, Charmian.- Char. O that brave Cæsar! Cleo. Be chok'd with such another emphasis ! Say, the brave Antony. Char. The valiant Cæsar! Cleo. By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, If thou with Cæsar paragon again My man of men. Char. I sing but after you. By your most gracious paidon, To Cleo. 13 My sallad days; When I was green in judgement:-Cold in blood, say, as A several greeting, or I'll unpeople Egypt. [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. Pom. Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays 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; My power's a crescent, and my auguring hope No wars without doors: Cæsar gets money, where Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves, Nor either cares for him. Men. Cæsar and Lepidus Are in the field; a mighty strength they carry. Pom. Where have you this? 'tis false. Men. From Silvius, sir. Pom. He dreams; I know, they are in Rome to gether, Looking for Antony: But all charms of love, Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both! That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour, Enter VARRIUS. Var. This is most certain that I shall deliver: Mark Antony is every hour in Rome Expected; since he went from Egypt, 'tis A space for further travel. Pom. I could have given less matter A better ear.-Menas, I did not think, This amorous surfeiter would have don'd his helm For such a petty war: his soldiership Is twice the other twain: But let us rear The higher our opinion, that our stirring I cannot hope, Men. Pom. I know not, Menas, |