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Actus Primus.

Scæna Prima.

Enter Demetrius and Philo:


Nay, but this dotage of our Generals
Ore-flowes the meaſure: thoſe his goodly eyes
That o're the Files and Muſters of the Warre,
Haue glow'd like plated Mars:
Now bend, now turne
The Office and Deuotion of their view
Vpon a Tawny Front. His Captaines heart,
Which in the ſcuffles of great Fights hath burſt
The Buckles on his breſt, reneages all temper,
And is become the Bellowes and the Fan
To coole a Gypſies Luſt.
Flouriſh. Enter Anthony, Cleopatra her Ladies, the
Traine, with Eunuchs fanning her.
Looke where they come:
Take but good note, and you ſhall ſee in him
(The triple Pillar of the world) transform'd
Into a Strumpets Foole. Behold and ſee.

If it be Loue indeed, tell me how much.

There's beggery in the loue that can be reckon'd

Ile ſet a bourne how farre to be belou'd.

Then muſt thou needes finde out new Heauen,
new Earth.
Enter a Meſſenger.

Newes (my good Lord) from Rome.

Grates me, the ſumme.

Nay heare them Anthony.
Fuluia perchance is angry: Or who knowes,
If the ſcarſe-bearded Cæſar haue not ſent
His powrefull Mandate to you. Do this, or this;
Take in that Kingdome, and Infranchiſe that:
Perform't, or elſe we damne thee.

How, my Loue?

Perchance? Nay, and moſt like:
You muſt not ſtay heere longer, your diſmiſſion
Is come from Cæſar, therefore heare it Anthony.
Where's Fuluias Proceſſe? (Cæſars I would ſay) both?
Call in the Meſſengers: As I am Egypts Queene,
Thou bluſheſt Anthony, and that blood of thine
Is Cæſars homager: elſe ſo thy cheeke payes ſhame,
When ſhrill-tongu'd Fuluia ſcolds. The Meſſengers.

Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide Arch
Of the raing'd Empire fall: Heere is my ſpace,
Kingdomes are clay: Our dungie earth alike
Feeds Beaſt as Man; the Nobleneſſe of life
Is to do thus: when ſuch a mutuall paire,
And ſuch a twaine can doo't, in which I binde
One paine of puniſhment, the world to weete
We ſtand vp Peereleſſe.

Excellent falſhood:
Why did he marry Fuluia, and not loue her?
Ile ſeeme the Foole I am not. Anthony will be himſelfe.

But ſtirr'd by Cleopatra.
Now for the loue of Loue, and her ſoft houres,
Let's not confound the time with Conference harſh;
There's not a minute of our liues ſhould ſtretch
Without ſome pleaſure now. What ſport to night?

Heare the Ambaſſadors.

Fye wrangling Queene:
Whom euery thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,
To weepe: who euery paſſion fully ſtriues
To make it ſelfe (in Thee) faire, and admir'd.
No Meſſenger but thine, and all alone, to night
Wee'l wander through the ſtreets, and note
The qualities of people. Come my Queene,
Laſt night you did deſire it. Speake not to vs.
Exeunt with the Traine.

Is Cæſar with Anthonius priz'd ſo ſlight?

Sir ſometimes when he is not Anthony,
He comes too ſhort of that great Property
Which ſtill ſhould go with Anthony.

I am full ſorry, that hee approues the common
Lyar, who thus ſpeakes of him at Rome; but I will hope
of better deeds to morrow. Reſt you happy. Exeunt

[Scene II.]

Enter Enobarbus, Lamprius, a Southſayer, Rannius, Lucilli-

us, Charmian, Iras, Mardian the Eunuch,

and Alexas.

L. Alexas, ſweet Alexas, moſt any thing Alexas,
almoſt moſt abſolute Alexas, where's the Soothſayer
that you prais'd ſo to'th' Queene? Oh that I knewe this
Husband, which you ſay, muſt change his Hornes with


Your will?

Is this the Man? Is't you ſir that know things?

In Natures infinite booke of Secrecie, a little I
can read.

Shew him your hand.

Bring in the Banket quickly: Wine enough,
Cleopatra's health to drinke.

Good ſir, giue me good Fortune.

I make not, but foreſee.

Pray then, foreſee me one.

You ſhall be yet farre fairer then you are.

He meanes in fleſh.

No, you ſhall paint when you are old.

Wrinkles forbid.

Vex not his preſcience, be attentiue.


You ſhall be more belouing, then beloued.

I had rather heate my Liuer with drinking.

Nay, heare him.

Good now ſome excellent Fortune: Let mee
bc married to three Kings in a forenoone, and Widdow
them all: Let me haue a Childe at fifty, to whom Herode
of Iewry may do Homage. Finde me to marrie me with
Octauius Cæſar, and companion me with my Miſtris.

You ſhall out-liue the Lady whom you ſerue.

Oh excellent, I loue long life better then Figs.

You haue ſeene and proued a fairer former for-
tune, then that which is to approach.

Then belike my Children ſhall haue no names:
Prythee how many Boyes and Wenches muſt I haue.

If euery of your wiſhes had a wombe, & fore-
tell euery wiſh, a Million.

Out Foole, I forgiue thee for a Witch.

You thinke none but your ſheets are priuie to
your wiſhes.

Nay come, tell Iras hers.

Wee'l know all our Fortunes.

Mine, and moſt of our Fortunes to night, ſhall
be drunke to bed.

There's a Palme preſages Chaſtity, if nothing els.

E'ne as the o're-flowing Nylus preſageth Fa-

Go you wilde Bedfellow, you cannot Soothſay.

Nay, if an oyly Palme bee not a fruitfull Prog-
noſtication, I cannot ſcratch mine eare. Prythee tel her
but a worky day Fortune.

Your Fortunes are alike.

But how, but how, giue me particulars.

I haue ſaid.

Am I not an inch of Fortune better then ſhe?

Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better
then I: where would you chooſe it.

Not in my Husbands noſe.

Our worſer thoughts Heauens mend.

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.

Amen, deere Goddeſſe, 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 de-
corum, and Fortune him accordingly.


Lo now, if it lay in their hands to make mee a
Cuckold, they would make themſelues Whores, but
they'ld doo't.
Enter Cleopatra.

Huſh, heere comes Anthony.

Not he, the Queene.

Saue you, my Lord.

No Lady.

Was he not heere?

No Madam.

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


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

Heere at your ſeruice.
My Lord approaches.
Enter Anthony, with a Meſſenger.

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

Fuluia thy Wife,
Firſt came into the Field.

Againſt my Brother Lucius?

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

Well, what worſt.

The Nature of bad newes infects the Teller.

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.

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———

Anthony thou would'ſt ſay.

Oh my Lord.

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 awhlle.

At your Noble pleaſure. Exit Meſſenger.
Enter another Meſſenger.

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.

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.

Where dyed ſhe.

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

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 Enobarbus.
How now Enobarbus.

What's your pleaſure, Sir?

I muſt with haſte from hence.

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

I muſt be gone.

Vnder a compelling an occaſion, let women die.
It were pitty to caſt them away for nothing, though be-
tweene 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.

She is cunning paſt mans thought.

Alacke Sir no, her paſſions 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.

Would I had neuer ſeene her.

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

Fuluia is dead.


Fuluia is dead.



Why ſir, giue the Gods a thankefull Sacrifice:
when it pleaſeth their Deities to take the wife of a man
from him, it ſhewes to man the Tailors of the earth: com-
forting therein, that when olde Robes are worne out,
there are members to make new. If there were no more
Women but Fuluia, then had you indeede a cut, and the
caſe to be lamented: This greefe is crown'd with Conſo-
lation, your old Smocke brings foorth a new Petticoate,
and indeed the teares liue in an Onion, that ſhould water
this ſorrow.

The buſineſſe ſhe hath broached in the State,
Cannot endure my abſence.

And the buſineſſe you haue broach'd heere can-
not be without you, eſpecially that of Cleopatra's, which
wholly depends on your abode.

No more light Anſweres:
Let our Officers
Haue notice what we purpoſe. I ſhall breake
The cauſe of our Expedience to the Queene,
And get her loue to part. For not alone
The death of Fuluia, with more vrgent touches
Do ſtrongly ſpeake to vs: but the Letters too
Of many our contriuing Friends in Rome,
Petition vs at home. Sextus Pompeius
Haue giuen the dare to Cæſar, and commands
The Empire of the Sea. Our ſlippery people,
Whoſe Loue is neuer link'd to the deſeruer,
Till his deſerts are paſt, begin to throw
Pompey the great, and all his Dignities
Vpon his Sonne, who high in Name and Power,
Higher then both in Blood and Life, ſtands vp
For the maine Souldier. Whoſe quality going on,
The ſides o'th'world may danger. Much is breeding,
Which like the Courſers heire, hath yet but life,
And not a Serpents poyſon. Say our pleaſure,
To ſuch whoſe places vnder vs, require
Our quicke remoue from hence.

I ſhall doo't.

[Scene III.]

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Iras.

Where is he?

I did not ſee him ſince.

See where he is,
Whoſe with him, what he does:
I did not ſend you. If you finde him ſad,
Say I am dauncing: if in Myrth, report
That I am ſodaine ſicke. Quicke, and returne.

Madam, me thinkes if you did loue him deerly,
You do not hold the method, to enforce
The like from him.

What ſhould I do, I do not?

In each thing giue him way,croſſe him in nothing.

Thou teacheſt like a foole:the way to loſe him.

Tempt him not ſo too farre. I wiſh forbeare,
In time we hate that which we often feare.
Enter Anthony.
But heere comes Anthony.

I am ſicke, and ſullen.

I am ſorry to giue breathing to my purpoſe.

Helpe me away deere Charmian, I ſhall fall,
It cannot be thus long, the ſides of Nature
Will not ſuſtaine it.

Now my deereſt Queene.

Pray you ſtand farther from mee.

What's the matter?

I know by that ſame eye ther's ſome good news.
What ſayes the married woman you may goe?
Would ſhe had neuer giuen you leaue to come.
Let her not ſay 'tis I that keepe you heere.
I haue no power vpon you: Hers you are.

The Gods beſt know.

Oh neuer was there Queene
So mightily betrayed: yet at the fitſt
I ſaw the Treaſons planted.


Why ſhould I thinke you can be mine, & true,
(Though you in ſwearing ſhake the Throaned Gods)
Who haue beene falſe to Fuluia?
Riotous madneſſe,
To be entangled with thoſe mouth-made vowes,
Which breake themſelues in ſwearing.

Moſt ſweet Queene.

Nay pray you ſeeke no colour for your going,
But bid farewell, and goe:
When you ſued ſtaying,
Then was the time for words: No going then,
Eternity was in our Lippes, and Eyes,
Bliſſe in our browes bent: none our parts ſo poore,
But was a race of Heauen. They are ſo ſtill,
Or thou the greateſt Souldier of the world,
Art turn'd the greateſt Lyar.

How now Lady?

I would I had thy inches, thou ſhould'ſt know
There were a heart in Egypt.

Heare me Queene:
The ſtrong neceſſity of Time, commands
Our Seruicles a-while: but my full heart
Remaines in vſe with you. Our I taly,
Shines o're with ciuill Swords; Sextus Pompeius
Makes his approaches to the Port of Rome,
Equality of two Domeſticke powers,
Breed ſcrupulous faction: The hated growne to ſtrength
Are newly growne to Loue: The condemn'd Pompey,
Rich in his Fathers Honor, creepes apace
Into the hearts of ſuch, as haue not thriued
Vpon the preſent ſtate, whoſe Numbers threaten,
And quietneſſe growne ſicke of reſt, would purge
By any deſperate change: My more particular,
And that which moſt with you ſhould ſafe my going,
Is Fuluias death.

Though age from folly could not giue me freedom
It does from childiſhneſſe. Can Fuluia dye?

She's dead my Queene.
Looke heere, and at thy Soueraigne leyſure read
The Garboyles ſhe awak'd: at the laſt, beſt,
See when, and where ſhee died.

O moſt falſe Loue!
Where be the Sacred Violles thou ſhould'ſt fill
With ſorrowfull water? Now I ſee, I ſee,
In Fuluias death, how mine receiu'd ſhall be.

Quarrell no more, but bee prepar'd to know
The purpoſes I beare: which are, or ceaſe,
As you ſhall giue th'aduice. By the fire
That quickens Nylus ſlime, I go from hence
Thy Souldier, Seruant, making Peace or Warre,
As thou affects.

Cut my Lace, Charmian come,
But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well,
So Anthony loues.

My precious Queene forbeare,
And giue true euidence to his Loue, which ſtands
An honourable Triall.

So Fuluia told me.
I prythee turne aſide, and weepe for her,
Then bid adiew to me, and ſay the teares
Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one Scene
Of excellent diſſembling, and let it looke
Like perfect Honor.

You'l heat my blood no more?

You can do better yet: but this is meetly.

Now by Sword.

And Target. Still he mends.
But this is not the beſt. Looke prythee Charmian,
How this Herculean Roman do's become
The carriage of his chafe.

Ile leaue you Lady.

Courteous Lord, one word:
Sir, you and I muſt part, but that's not it:
Sir, you and I haue lou'd, but there's not it:
That you know well, ſomething it is I would:
Oh, my Obliuion is a very Anthony,
And I am all forgotten.

But that your Royalty
Holds Idleneſſe your ſubiect, I ſhould take you
For Idleneſſe it ſelfe.

'Tis ſweating Labour,
To beare ſuch Idleneſſe ſo neere the heart
As Cleopatra this. But Sir, forgiue me,
Since my becommings kill me, when they do not
Eye well to you. Your Honor calles you hence,
Therefore be deafe to my vnpittied Folly,
And all the Gods go with you. Vpon your Sword
Sit Lawrell victory, and ſmooth ſucceſſe
Be ſtrew'd before your feete.

Let vs go.
Come: Our ſeparation ſo abides and flies,
That thou reciding heere, goes yet with mee;
And I hence fleeting, heere remaine with thee.
Away. Exeunt.

[Scene IV.]

Enter Octauius reading a Letter, Lepidus,

and their Traine.

You may ſee Lepidus, and henceforth know,
It is not Cæſars Naturall vice, to hate
One great Competitor. From Alexandria
This is the newes: He fiſhes, drinkes, and waſtes
The Lampes of night in reuell: Is not more manlike
Then Cleopatra: nor the Queene of Ptolomy
More Womanly then he. Hardly gaue audience
Or vouchſafe to thinke he had Partners. You
Shall finde there a man, who is th'abſtracts of all faults,
That all men follow.

I muſt not thinke
There are, euils enow to darken all his goodneſſe:
His faults in him, ſeeme as the Spots of Heauen,
More fierie by nights Blackneſſe; Hereditarie,
Rather then purchaſte: what he cannot change,
Then what he chooſes.

You are too indulgent. Let's graunt it is not
Amiſſe to tumble on the bed of Ptolomy,
To giue a Kingdome for a Mirth, to ſit
And keepe the turne of Tipling with a Slaue,
To reele the ſtreets at noone, and ſtand the Buffet
With knaues that ſmels of ſweate: Say this becoms him
(As his compoſure muſt be rare indeed,
Whom theſe things cannot blemiſh) yet muſt Anthony
No way excuſe his foyles, when we do beare
So great waight in his lightneſſe. If he fill'd
His vacancie with his Voluptuouſneſſe,
Full ſurfets, and the drineſſe of his bones,
Call on him for't. But to confound ſuch time,
That drummes him from his ſport, and ſpeakes as lowd
As his owne State, and ours, 'tis to be chid:
As we rate Boyes, who being mature in knowledge,
Pawne their experience to their preſent pleaſure,
And fo rebell to iudgement.
Enter a Meſſenger.

Heere's more newes.

Thy biddings haue beene done, & euerie houre
Moſt Noble Cæſar, ſhalt thou haue report
How 'tis abroad. Pompey is ſtrong at Sea,
And it appeares, he is belou'd of thoſe
That only haue feard Cæſar: to the Ports
The diſcontents repaire, and mens reports
Giue him much wrong'd.

I ſhould haue knowne no leſſe,
It hath bin taught vs from the primall ſtate
That he which is was wiſht, vntill he were:
And the ebb'd man,
Ne're lou'd, till ne're worth loue,
Comes fear'd, by being lack'd. This common bodie,
Like to a Vagabond Flagge vpon the Streame,
Goes too, and backe, lacking the varrying tyde
To rot it ſelfe with motion.

Cæſar I bring thee word,
Menacrates and Menas famous Pyrates
Makes the Sea ſerue them, which they eare and wound
With keeles of euery kinde. Many hot inrodes
They make in Italy, the Borders Maritime
Lacke blood to thinke on't, and fluſh youth reuolt,
No Veſſell can peepe forth: but 'tis as ſoone
Taken as ſeene: for Pompeyes name ſtrikes more
Then could his Warre reſiſted.

Leaue thy laſciuious Vaſſailes. When thou once
Was beaten from Medena, where thou ſlew'ſt
Hirſius, and Pauſa Conſuls, at thy heele
Did Famine follow, whom thou fought'ſt againſt,
(Though daintily brought vp) with patience more
Then Sauages could ſuffer. Thou did'ſt drinke
The ſtale of Horſes, and the gilded Puddle
Which Beaſts would cough at. Thy pallat th[etilde] did daine
The rougheſt Berry, on the rudeſt Hedge.
Yea, like the Stagge, when Snow the Paſture ſheets,
The barkes of Trees thou brows'd. On the Alpes,
It is reported thou did'ſt eate ſtrange fleſh,
Which ſome did dye to looke on: And all this
(It wounds thine Honor that I ſpeake it now)
Was borne ſo like a Soldiour, that thy cheeke
So much as lank'd not.

'Tis pitty of him.

Let his ſhames quickely
Driue him to Rome, 'tis time we twaine
Did ſhew our ſelues i'th'Field, and to that end
Aſſemble me immediate counſell, Pompey
Thriues in our Idleneſſe.

To morrow Cæſar,
I ſhall be furniſht to informe you rightly
Both what by Sea and Land I can be able
To front this preſent time.

Til which encounter, it is my buſines too. Farwell.

Farwell my Lord, what you ſhal know mean time
Of ſtirres abroad, I ſhall beſeech you Sir
To let me be partaker.

Doubt not fir, I knew it for my Bond. Exeunt

[Scene V.]

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, & Mardian.



Ha, ha, giue me to drinke Mandragoru.

Why Madam?

That I might ſleepe out this great gap of time:
My Anthony is away.

You thinke of him too much.

O 'tis Treaſon.

Madam, I truſt not ſo.

Thou, Eunuch Mardian?

What's your Highneſſe pleaſure?

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?

Yes gracious Madam.


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.

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 Phœbus amorous pinches blacke,
And wrinkled deepe in time. Broad-fronted Cæſar,
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 ſrom Cæſar.

Soueraigne of Egypt, haile.

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?

Laſt thing he did (deere Qu ene)
He kiſt the laſt of many doubled kiſſes
This Orient Pearle. His ſpeech ſtickes in my heart.

Mine eare muſt plucke it thence.

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.

What was he ſad, or merry?

Like to the time o'th'yeare, between ye extremes
Of hot and cold, he was nor ſad nor merrie.

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?

I Madam, twenty ſeuerall Meſſengers.
Why do you ſend ſo thicke?

Who's borne that day, when I forget to fend
to Anthonie, ſhall dye a Bėgger. Inke and paper Char-
Welcome my good Alexas. Did I Charmian, e-
uer loue Cæſar ſo?

Oh that braue Cæſar!

Be choak'd with ſuch another Emphaſis,
Say the braue Anthony.

The valiant Cæſar.

By I ſis, I will giue thee bloody teeth,
If thou with Cæſar Parago nagaine:
My man of men.

By your moſt gracious pardon,
I ſing but after you.

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 vnpeo-
ple Egypt. Exeunt

load focus Notes (Horace Howard Furness, 1907)
load focus Notes (Horace Howard Furness, 1907)
load focus English (W. G. Clark, W. Aldis Wright)
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