|
Attendant
A messenger from CAESAR.
CLEOPATRA
What, no more ceremony? See, my women!
Against the blown rose may they stop their nose
That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, sir.
Exit Attendant
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
[Aside] 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 fall'n lord
Does conquer him that did his master conquer
And earns a place i' the story.
Enter THYREUS
CLEOPATRA
Caesar's will?
THYREUS
Hear it apart.
CLEOPATRA
None but friends: say boldly.
THYREUS
So, haply, are they friends to Antony.
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has;
Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master
Will leap to be his friend: for us, you know,
Whose he is we are, and that is, Caesar's.
THYREUS
So.
Thus then, thou most renown'd: Caesar entreats,
Not to consider in what case thou stand'st,
Further than he is Caesar.
CLEOPATRA
Go on: right royal.
THYREUS
He knows that you embrace not Antony
As you did love, but as you fear'd him.
CLEOPATRA
O!
THYREUS
The scars upon your honour, therefore, he
Does pity, as constrained blemishes,
Not as deserved.
CLEOPATRA
He is a god, and knows
What is most right: mine honour was not yielded,
But conquer'd merely.
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
[Aside] To be sure of that,
I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky,
That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for
Thy dearest quit thee.
Exit
THYREUS
Shall I say to Caesar
What you require of him? for he partly begs
To be desired 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.
CLEOPATRA
What's your name?
THYREUS
My name is Thyreus.
CLEOPATRA
Most kind messenger,
Say to great Caesar this: in deputation
I kiss his conquering hand: tell him, I am prompt
To lay my crown at's feet, and there to kneel:
Tell him from his all-obeying breath I hear
The doom of Egypt.
THYREUS
'Tis your noblest course.
Wisdom and fortune combating together,
If that the former dare but what it can,
No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay
My duty on your hand.
CLEOPATRA
Your Caesar's father oft,
When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in,
Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place,
As it rain'd kisses.
Re-enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
MARK ANTONY
Favours, by Jove that thunders!
What art thou, fellow?
THYREUS
One that but performs
The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest
To have command obey'd.
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
[Aside] You will be whipp'd.
MARK ANTONY
Approach, there! Ah, you kite! Now, gods
and devils!
Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried 'Ho!'
Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth,
And cry 'Your will?' Have you no ears? I am
Antony yet.
Enter Attendants
Take hence this Jack, and whip him.
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
[Aside] 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp
Than with an old one dying.
MARK ANTONY
Moon and stars!
Whip him. Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries
That do acknowledge Caesar, 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.
THYREUS
Mark Antony!
MARK ANTONY
Tug him away: being whipp'd,
Bring him again: this Jack of Caesar's shall
Bear us an errand to him.
Exeunt Attendants with THYREUS
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 abused
By one that looks on feeders?
CLEOPATRA
Good my lord,--
MARK ANTONY
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 judgments; make us
Adore our errors; laugh at's, while we strut
To our confusion.
CLEOPATRA
O, is't come to this?
MARK ANTONY
I found you as a morsel cold upon
Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment
Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours,
Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have
Luxuriously pick'd out: for, I am sure,
Though you can guess what temperance should be,
You know not what it is.
|
