The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 48
him –
As his composure must be rare indeed
Whom these things cannot blemish – yet must
Antony
No way excuse his foils, when we do bear
So great weight in his lightness. If he filled
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His vacancy with his voluptuousness,
Full surfeits and the dryness of his bones
Call on him for’t. But to confound such time
That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud
As his own state and ours, ’tis to be chid
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As we rate boys who, being mature in knowledge,
Pawn their experience to their present pleasure
And so rebel to judgement.
Enter a Messenger.
LEPIDUS Here’s more news.
MESSENGER
Thy biddings have been done, and every hour,
Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report
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How ’tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea,
And it appears he is beloved of those
That only have feared Caesar. To the ports
The discontents repair, and men’s reports
Give him much wronged.
CAESAR I should have known no less.
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It hath been taught us from the primal state
That he which is was wished until he were,
And the ebbed man, ne’er loved till ne’er worth love,
Comes deared by being lacked. This common body,
Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream,
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Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide,
To rot itself with motion.
Enter another Messenger.
2 MESSENGER Caesar, I bring thee word
Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,
Makes the sea serve them, which they ear and wound
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With keels of every kind. Many hot inroads
They make in Italy – the borders maritime
Lack blood to think on’t – and flush youth revolt.
No vessel can peep forth but ’tis as soon
Taken as seen; for Pompey’s name strikes more
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Than could his war resisted.
CAESAR Antony,
Leave thy lascivious wassails! When thou once
Was beaten from Modena, where thou slew’st
Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel
Did famine follow, whom thou fought’st against,
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Though daintily brought up, with patience more
Than savages could suffer. Thou didst drink
The stale of horses and the gilded puddle
Which beasts would cough at. Thy palate then did
deign
The roughest berry on the rudest hedge.
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Yea, like the stag when snow the pasture sheets,
The barks of trees thou browsed. On the Alps,
It is reported, thou didst eat strange flesh
Which some did die to look on. And all this –
It wounds thine honour that I speak it now –
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Was borne so like a soldier that thy cheek
So much as lanked not.
LEPIDUS ’Tis pity of him.
CAESAR Let his shames quickly
Drive him to Rome. ’Tis time we twain
Did show ourselves i’th’ field, and to that end
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Assemble we immediate council. Pompey
Thrives in our idleness.
LEPIDUS Tomorrow, Caesar,
I shall be furnished to inform you rightly
Both what by sea and land I can be able
To front this present time.
CAESAR Till which encounter,
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It is my business too. Farewell.
LEPIDUS
Farewell, my lord. What you shall know meantime
Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,
To let me be partaker.
CAESAR Doubt not, sir.
I knew it for my bond. Exeunt by different doors.
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1.5 Enter C LEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS and MARDIAN.
CLEOPATRA Charmian!
CHARMIAN Madam?
CLEOPATRA [Yawns.] Ha, ha.
Give me to drink mandragora.
CHARMIAN Why, madam?
CLEOPATRA
That I might sleep out this great gap of time
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My Antony is away.
CHARMIAN You think of him too much.
CLEOPATRA O, ’tis treason!
CHARMIAN Madam, I trust not so.
CLEOPATRA Thou, eunuch Mardian!
MARDIAN What’s your highness’ pleasure?
CLEOPATRA
Not now to hear thee sing. I take no pleasure
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In aught an eunuch has. ’Tis well for thee
That, being unseminared, thy freer thoughts
May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?
MARDIAN Yes, gracious madam.
CLEOPATRA Indeed?
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MARDIAN Not in deed, madam, for I can do nothing
But what indeed is honest to be done.
Yet have I fierce affections, and think
What Venus did with Mars.
CLEOPATRA O, Charmian,
Where think’st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he?
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Or does he walk? Or is he on his horse?
O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!
Do bravely, horse, for wot’st thou whom thou
mov’st?
The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm
And burgonet of men! He’s speaking now,
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Or murmuring ‘Where’s my serpent of old Nile?’
For so he calls me. Now I feed myself
With most delicious poison. Think on me
That am with Phoebus’ amorous pinches black
And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar,
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When thou wast here above the ground, I was
A morsel for a monarch; and great Pompey
Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow;
There would he anchor his aspect, and die
With looking on his life.
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Enter ALEXAS from Antony.
ALEXAS Sovereign of Egypt, hail!
CLEOPATRA 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?
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ALEXAS Last thing he did, dear queen,
He kissed – the last of many doubled kisses –
This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart.
CLEOPATRA Mine ear must pluck it thence.
ALEXAS ‘Good friend,’ quoth he,
‘Say the firm Roman to great Egypt sends
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This treasure of an oyster, at whose foot,
To mend this 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 an arm-gaunt steed
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Who neighed so high that what I would have spoke
Was beastly dumbed by him.
CLEOPATRA What, was he sad or merry?
ALEXAS
Like to the time o’th’ year between the extremes
Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry.
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CLEOPATRA 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 seemed to t
ell them his remembrance lay
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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?
ALEXAS Ay, madam, twenty several messengers.
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Why do you send so thick?
CLEOPATRA Who’s born that day
When I forget to send to Antony
Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian!
Welcome, my good Alexas! Did I, Charmian,
Ever love Caesar so?
CHARMIAN O that brave Caesar!
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CLEOPATRA Be choked with such another emphasis!
Say, ‘the brave Antony’.
CHARMIAN The valiant Caesar!
CLEOPATRA By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth
If thou with Caesar paragon again
My man of men!
CHARMIAN By your most gracious pardon,
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I sing but after you.
CLEOPATRA My salad days,
When I was green in judgement, cold in blood,
To say as I said then. But come, away,
Get me ink and paper!
He shall have every day a several greeting
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Or I’ll unpeople Egypt! Exeunt.
2.1 Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES and MENAS in warlike manner.
POMPEY If the great gods be just, they shall assist
The deeds of justest men.
MENECRATES Know, worthy Pompey,
That what they do delay they not deny.
POMPEY Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays
The thing we sue for.
MENECRATES We, ignorant of ourselves,
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Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers
Deny us for our good; so find we profit
By losing of our prayers.
POMPEY I shall do well.
The people love me, and the sea is mine;
My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope
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Says it will come to th’ full. Mark Antony
In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make
No wars without doors; Caesar gets money where
He loses hearts; Lepidus flatters both,
Of both is flattered; but he neither loves,
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Nor either cares for him.
MENAS Caesar and Lepidus
Are in the field. A mighty strength they carry.
POMPEY Where have you this? ’Tis false.
MENAS From Silvius, sir.
POMPEY
He dreams. I know they are in Rome together,
Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love,
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Salt Cleopatra, soften thy waned lip!
Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both;
Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts;
Keep his brain fuming. Epicurean cooks
Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite
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That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour
Even till a Lethe’d dullness –
Enter VARRIUS.
How now, Varrius?
VARRIUS This is most certain that I shall deliver:
Mark Antony is every hour in Rome
Expected. Since he went from Egypt ’tis
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A space for farther travel.
POMPEY I could have given less matter
A better ear. Menas, I did not think
This amorous surfeiter would have donned his helm
For such a petty war. His soldiership
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Is twice the other twain. But let us rear
The higher our opinion, that our stirring
Can from the lap of Egypt’s widow pluck
The ne’er-lust-wearied Antony.
MENAS I cannot hope
Caesar and Antony shall well greet together.
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His wife that’s dead did trespasses to Caesar;
His brother warred upon him, although I think
Not moved by Antony.
POMPEY I know not, Menas,
How lesser enmities may give way to greater.
Were’t not that we stand up against them all,
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’Twere pregnant they should square between
themselves,
For they have entertained cause enough
To draw their swords. But how the fear of us