Cleo. Nay heare them Anthony.

Fuluia perchance is angry: Or who knowes,

If the scarse-bearded Caesar 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

Ant. How, my Loue?

Cleo. Perchance? Nay, and most like:

You must not stay heere longer, your dismission

Is come from Caesar, therefore heare it Anthony,

Where's Fuluias Processe? (Caesars I would say) both?

Call in the Messengers: As I am Egypts Queene,

Thou blushest Anthony, and that blood of thine

Is Caesars homager: else so thy cheeke payes shame,

When shrill-tongu'd Fuluia scolds. The Messengers

Ant. 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

Cleo. Excellent falshood:

Why did he marry Fuluia, and not loue her?

Ile seeme the Foole I am not. Anthony will be himselfe

Ant. 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?

Cleo. Heare the Ambassadors

Ant. 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.

Dem. Is Caesar with Anthonius priz'd so slight?

Philo. Sir, sometimes when he is not Anthony,

He comes too short of that great Property

Which still should go with Anthony

Dem. 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.

Enter Enobarbus, Lamprius, a Southsayer, Rannius, Lucillius,

Charmian,

Iras, Mardian the Eunuch, and Alexas.

Char. L[ord]. 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

Garlands

Alex. Soothsayer

Sooth. Your will?

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

Sooth. In Natures infinite booke of Secrecie, a little I

can read

Alex. Shew him your hand

Enob. Bring in the Banket quickly: Wine enough,

Cleopatra's health to drinke

Char. Good sir, giue me good Fortune

Sooth. I make not, but foresee

Char. Pray then, foresee me one

Sooth. You shall be yet farre fairer then you are

Char. He meanes in flesh

Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old

Char. Wrinkles forbid

Alex. Vex not his prescience, be attentiue

Char. Hush

Sooth. You shall be more belouing, then beloued

Char. I had rather heate my Liuer with drinking

Alex. Nay, heare him

Char. Good now some excellent Fortune: Let mee

be 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 Caesar, and companion me with my Mistris

Sooth. You shall out-liue the Lady whom you serue

Char. Oh excellent, I loue long life better then Figs

Sooth. You haue seene and proued a fairer former fortune,

then that which is to approach

Char. Then belike my Children shall haue no names:

Prythee how many Boyes and Wenches must I haue

Sooth. If euery of your wishes had a wombe, & foretell

euery wish, a Million

Char. Out Foole, I forgiue thee for a Witch

Alex. You thinke none but your sheets are priuie to

your wishes

Char. Nay come, tell Iras hers

Alex. Wee'l know all our Fortunes

Enob. Mine, and most of our Fortunes to night, shall

be drunke to bed

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

Char. E'ne as the o're-flowing Nylus presageth Famine

Iras. Go you wilde Bedfellow, you cannot Soothsay

Char. Nay, if an oyly Palme bee not a fruitfull Prognostication,

I cannot scratch mine eare. Prythee tel her

but a worky day Fortune

Sooth. Your Fortunes are alike

Iras. But how, but how, giue me particulars

Sooth. I haue said

Iras. Am I not an inch of Fortune better then she?

Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better

then I: where would you choose it

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 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 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 Whores, but

they'ld doo't.

Enter Cleopatra.

Enob. Hush, heere comes Anthony

Char. Not he, the Queene

Cleo. Saue you, my Lord

Enob. 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.

Enobarbus?

Enob. 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 Noble 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 Enobarbus.

How now Enobarbus

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 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

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

Ant. Fuluia is dead

Eno. Sir

Ant. Fuluia is dead

Eno. Fuluia?

Ant. Dead

Eno. 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: comforting

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 Consolation,

your old Smocke brings foorth a new Petticoate,

and indeed the teares liue in an Onion, that should water

this sorrow

Ant. The businesse she hath broached in the State,

Cannot endure my absence

Eno. And the businesse you haue broach'd heere cannot

be without you, especially that of Cleopatra's, which

wholly depends on your abode

Ant. 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 Caesar, 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

Enob. I shall doo't.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Iras.

Cleo. Where is he?

Char. I did not see him since

Cleo. 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

Char. Madam, me thinkes if you did loue him deerly,

You do not hold the method, to enforce

The like from him

Cleo. What should I do, I do not?

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

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

Char. Tempt him not so too farre. I wish forbeare,

In time we hate that which we often feare.

Enter Anthony.

But heere comes Anthony

Cleo. I am sicke, and sullen

An. I am sorry to giue breathing to my purpose

Cleo. Helpe me away deere Charmian, I shall fall,

It cannot be thus long, the sides of Nature

Will not sustaine it

Ant. Now my deerest Queene

Cleo. Pray you stand farther from mee

Ant. What's the matter?

Cleo. 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

Ant. The Gods best know

Cleo. Oh neuer was there Queene

So mightily betrayed: yet at the first

I saw the Treasons planted

Ant. Cleopatra

Cleo. 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

Ant. Most sweet Queene

Cleo. 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

Ant. How now Lady?

Cleo. I would I had thy inches, thou should'st know

There were a heart in Egypt

Ant. Heare me Queene:

The strong necessity of Time, commands

Our Seruices a-while: but my full heart

Remaines in vse with you. Our Italy,

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

Cleo. Though age from folly could not giue me freedom

It does from childishnesse. Can Fuluia dye?

Ant. 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

Cleo. 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

Ant. 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

Cleo. Cut my Lace, Charmian come,

But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well,

So Anthony loues

Ant. My precious Queene forbeare,

And giue true euidence to his Loue, which stands

An honourable Triall

Cleo. 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

Ant. You'l heat my blood no more?

Cleo. You can do better yet: but this is meetly

Ant. Now by Sword

Cleo. 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

Ant. Ile leaue you Lady

Cleo. 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

Ant. But that your Royalty

Holds Idlenesse your subiect, I should take you

For Idlenesse it selfe

Cleo. '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

Ant. 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.

Enter Octauius reading a Letter, Lepidus, and their Traine.

Caes You may see Lepidus, and henceforth know,

It is not Caesars 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

Lep. 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

Caes 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 so rebell to iudgement.

Enter a Messenger.

Lep. Heere's more newes

Mes. Thy biddings haue beene done, & euerie houre

Most Noble Caesar, 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 Caesar: to the Ports

The discontents repaire, and mens reports

Giue him much wrong'd

Caes 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

Mes. Caesar 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

Caesar. Anthony,

Leaue thy lasciuious Vassailes. When thou once

Was beaten from Medena, where thou slew'st

Hirsius, and Pansa 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 the[n] 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

Lep. 'Tis pitty of him

Caes 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

Lep. To morrow Caesar,

I shall be furnisht to informe you rightly

Both what by Sea and Land I can be able

To front this present time

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

Lep. Farwell my Lord, what you shal know mean time

Of stirres abroad, I shall beseech you Sir

To let me be partaker

Caesar. Doubt not sir, I knew it for my Bond.

Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, & Mardian.

Cleo. Charmian

Char. Madam

Cleo. Ha, ha, giue me to drinke Mandragora

Char. Why Madam?

Cleo. That I might sleepe out this great gap of time:

My Anthony is away

Char. You thinke of him too much

Cleo. O 'tis Treason

Char. Madam, I trust not so

Cleo. Thou, Eunuch Mardian?

Mar. What's your Highnesse pleasure?

Cleo. 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?

Mar. Yes gracious Madam

Cleo. Indeed?

Mar. 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

Cleo. 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 Phoebus amorous pinches blacke,

And wrinkled deepe in time. Broad-fronted Caesar,

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 from Caesar.

Alex. Soueraigne of Egypt, haile

Cleo. 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?

Alex. Last thing he did (deere Queene)

He kist the last of many doubled kisses

This Orient Pearle. His speech stickes in my heart

Cleo. Mine eare must plucke it thence

Alex. 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

Cleo. What was he sad, or merry?

Alex. Like to the time o'th' yeare, between y extremes

Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merrie

Cleo. 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?

Alex. I Madam, twenty seuerall Messengers.

Why do you send so thicke?

Cleo. Who's borne that day, when I forget to send

to Anthonie, shall dye a Begger. Inke and paper Charmian.

Welcome my good Alexas. Did I Charmian, euer

loue Caesar so?

Char. Oh that braue Caesar!

Cleo. Be choak'd with such another Emphasis,

Say the braue Anthony

Char. The valiant Caesar

Cleo. By Isis, I will giue thee bloody teeth,

If thou with Caesar Paragon againe:

My man of men

Char. By your most gracious pardon,

I sing but after you

Cleo. 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 vnpeople

Egypt.

Exeunt.

Enter Pompey, Menecrates, and Menas, in warlike manner.

Pom. If the great Gods be iust, they shall assist

The deeds of iustest men

Mene. Know worthy Pompey, that what they do delay,

they not deny

Pom. Whiles we are sutors to their Throne, decayes

the thing we sue for

Mene. We ignorant of our selues,

Begge often our owne harmes, which the wise Powres

Deny vs for our good: so finde we profit

By loosing of our Prayers

Pom. I shall do well:

The people loue me, and the Sea is mine;

My powers are Cressent, and my Auguring hope

Sayes it will come to'th' full. Marke Anthony

In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make

No warres without doores. Caesar gets money where

He looses hearts: Lepidus flatters both,

Of both is flatter'd: but he neither loues,

Nor either cares for him

Mene. Caesar and Lepidus are in the field,

A mighty strength they carry

Pom. Where haue you this? 'Tis false

Mene. From Siluius, Sir

Pom. He dreames: I know they are in Rome together

Looking for Anthony: but all the charmes of Loue,

Salt Cleopatra soften thy wand lip,

Let Witchcraft ioyne with Beauty, Lust with both,

Tye vp the Libertine in a field of Feasts,

Keepe his Braine fuming. Epicurean Cookes,

Sharpen with cloylesse sawce his Appetite,

That sleepe and feeding may prorogue his Honour,

Euen till a Lethied dulnesse-

Enter Varrius.

How now Varrius?

Var. This is most certaine, that I shall deliuer:

Marke Anthony is euery houre in Rome

Expected. Since he went from Egypt, 'tis

A space for farther Trauaile