The itch of his affection should not then
Have nick'd his captainship; at such a point,
When half to half the world oppos'd, he being
The mered question: 'Twas a shame no less
Than was his loss, to course your flying flags,
And leave his navy gazing.

Cleo.

Pr'ythee, peace.

Enter ANTONY, with the Ambassador.

Ant. Is this his answer?

To the boy Cæsar send this grizled head,

And he will fill thy wishes to the brim

With principalities.

Cleo.

That head, my lord?

Ant. To him again; Tell him, he wears the rose Of youth upon him; from which, the world should

note

Something particular: his coin, ships, legions,

May be a coward's; whose ministers would prevail
Under the service of a child, as soon

As i' the command of Cæsar: I dare him therefore

To lay his gay comparisons apart,

And answer me declin'd, sword against sword,

Ourselves alone; I'll write it; follow me.

[Exeunt Antony and Ambassador,

Eno. Yes, like enough, high-battled Cæsar will
Unstate his happiness, and be stag'd to the show,
Against a sworder.-I see, men's judgements are
A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward
Do draw the inward quality after them,

To suffer all alike. That he should dream,
Knowing all measures, the full Cæsar will
Answer his emptiness!-Cæsar, thou hast subdu'd
His judgement too.

Att.

Enter an Attendant.

A messenger from Cæsar.

Cleo. What, no more ceremony?-See, my wo

men!

Against the blown rose may they stop their nose,
That kneel'd unto the buds.-Admit him, sir.
Eno. Mine honesty, and I, begin to square.

The loyalty, well held to fools, does make
Our faith mere folly:-Yet, he, that can endure
To follow with allegiance a fallen lord,
Does conquer him that did his master conquer,
And earns a place i' the story.

[Aside.

Thyr. So, haply, are they friends to Antony. Eno. He needs as many, sir, as Cæsar has; Or needs not us. If Cæsar please, our master

Will leap to be his friend: For us, you know,
Whose he is, we are; and that's, Cæsar's.

Thyr.

So.

Thus then, thou most renown'd; Cæsar entreats,
Not to consider in what case thou stand'st,

Further than he is Cæsar.

Cleo.

Go on: Right royal.

Thyr. He knows, that you embrace not Antony As you did love, but as you fear'd him.

Cleo.

O!

Thyr. The scars upon your honour, therefore, he

Does pity, as constrained blemishes,

Not as deserv'd.

Cleo.

He is a god, and knows

What is most right: Mine honour was not yielded, But conquer'd merely.

Eno.

I will ask Antony.-Sir, sir, thou'rt so leaky,
That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for

Thy dearest quit thee.

Thyr.

To be sure of that, [Aside.

What you require of him? for he partly begs

To be desir'd to give. It much would please him,
That of his fortunes you should make a staff

To lean upon: but it would warm his spirits,
To hear from me you had left Antony,

And put yourself under his shrowd,

The universal landlord.

Cleo.

What's your name?

Thyr. My name is Thyreus.

Cleo.

Most kind messenger,

Say to great Cæsar this, in disputation

I kiss his conquʼring hand: tell him, I am prompt
To lay my crown at his feet, and there to kneel:

Tell him, from his all-obeying breath I hear

The doom of Egypt.

Thyr.

Wisdom and fortune combating together,

If that the former dare but what it can,

'Tis your noblest course.

Give me grace to lay

Your Cæsar's father

No chance may shake it.

My duty on your hand.

Cleo,

Oft, when he hath mus'd of taking kingdoms in,
Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place,

You will be whipp'd.

The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest

To have command obey'd.

Eno.

Ant. Approach, there:-Ay, you kite!-Now gods

and devils!

Authority melts from me: Of late, when I cry'd, ho! Like boys unto a muss11, kings would start forth, cry, Your will? Have you no ears? I am

And

Enter Attendants..

Antony yet. Take hence this Jack, and whip him. Eno. 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp,

Than with an old one dying.

Ant.

Moon and stars?

Whip him :-Were't twenty of the greatest tribu

taries

That do acknowledge Cæsar, should I find them
So saucy with the hand of she here, (What's her

name,

Since she was Cleopatra?)-Whip him, fellows,
Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face,

And whine aloud for mercy: Take him hence.
Thyr. Mark Antony,-

Ant.

Bring him again:-This Jack of Cæsar's shall

Tug him away: being whipp'd,

[Exeunt Attendants with Thyreus.

Bear us an errand to him.

You were half blasted ere I knew you:-Ha!

Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome,
Forborne the getting of a lawful race,

And by a gem of women, to be abus'd
By one that looks on feeders 42 ?

Cleo.

.Good my lord,

Ant. You have been a boggler ever:

But when we in our viciousness grow hard,

(O misery on't!). the wise gods seel our eyes;

In our own filth drop our clear judgements; make us