Lep. Your way is fhorter,

My purposes do draw me much about;
You'll win two days upon me.

Both. Sir, good fuccefs.
Lep. Farewel

[Exeunt.

Cleo.

SCENE V.

Changes to the Palace in Alexandria.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmion, Iras, and Alexas.

Of us that trade in love

Omnes. The mufick, hoa!

Enter Mardian the Eunuch.

Cleo. Let it alone, let's to billiards: come, Charmion.

Char. My arm is fore, beft play with Mardian. Cleo. As well a woman with an Eunuch play'd, As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me, Sir? Mer. As well as I can, Madam.

Cleo. And when good will is fhew'd, tho't come too

short,

The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now.
Give me mine angle, we'll to th' river, there,
My mufick playing far off, I will betray
2 Tawny-finn'd fish; my bended hook fhall pierce

1-mufick, moody food] The mood, is the mind, or mental difpofition. Van Haaren's panegyrick on the English begins, Groot-moedig Volk, [great-minded Nation.] Perhaps here is a poor

jeft intended between mood the mind and moods of mufick.

Tawny-finn'd fif-1 The firft copy reads, Tawney fine fifb.

5

Their

Their flimy jaws; and, as I draw them up,
I'll think them every one an Antony,
And fay, ab, ba! you're caught.

Char. 'Twas merry, when

when your diver

You wager'd on your angling;
Did hang a falt fish on his hook, which he
With fervency drew up.

Cleo. That time!-oh times!

I laught him out of patience, and that night
I laught him into patience; and next morn
Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed :
Then put my tires and mantles on him, 3 whilst
I wore his fword Philippin. Oh. From Italy-

Enter a Meffenger.

Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,
That long time have been barren.

Mef. Madam! Madam!

Cleo. Antony's dead?-

If thou fay fo, villain, thou kill'ft thy mistress;
But well and free,

If fo thou yield him, there is gold, and here
My blueft veins to kiss? a hand, that Kings
Have lipt, and trembled kiffing.

Mef. Firft, Madam, he is well.

Cleo. Why, there's more gold. But, firrah, mark, we use

To say, the dead are well; bring it to that,
The gold, I give thee, will I melt and pour
Down thy ill-uttering throat.

Mef. Good Madam, hear me.
Cleo. Well, go to, I will:

But there's no goodness in thy face. If Antony
Be free and healthful; why fo tart a favour
To trumpet fuch good tidings? if not well,
Thou shouldft come like a fury crown'd with fnakes,
4 Not like a formal man.

Mef. Will't please you hear me?

Cleo. I have a mind to ftrike thee, ere thou speak'st; Yet, if thou fay Antony lives, 'tis well,

Or friends with Cafar, or not captive to him, s I'll fet thee in a fhower of gold, and hail Rich pearls upon thee.

Mef. Madam, he's well.

Cleo. Well faid.

Mef. And friends with Cafar.

Cleo. Thour't an honeft man.

Mef. Cæfar, and he, are greater friends than ever, Cleo. Make thee a fortune from me.

4 Not like a formal man.] Formal, for ordinary. WARB.

Rather decent, regular.
s I'll fet thee in a shower of
gold, and hail
Rich pearls upon thee.] That is,
I will give thee a kingdom; it
being the eastern ceremony, at
the coronation of their Kings, to
powder them with gold-duft and
feed-pearl: fo Milton,

the gorgeous Eaft with liberal
band

Showers on her Kings barbarie pearl and gold,

In the life of Timur-bec or Tamerlane, written by a Perfian contemporary author, are the following words, as tranflated by Monfieur Petit de la Croix, in the account there given of his coronation, Book ii. chap. 1. Les Princes du fang royal & les Emirs repandirent à pleines mains fur fa téte quantitè d'or & de pierreries felon la coûtume. WARB.

Mef.

Mef. But yet, Madam

Cleo. I do not like but yet; it does allay
The good precedence; fy upon but yet;
But yet is a jaylor to bring forth

Some monftrous Malefactor. Pr'ythee, friend,
Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear,

The good and bad together. He's friends with Cæfar,
In ftate of health, thou fay'ft; and thou fay'ft, free.
Mef. Free, Madam! no: I made no fuch report.
He's bound unto Octavia.

Cleo. For what good turn?

Mef. For the best turn i' th' bed.

Cleo. I am pale, Charmion.

Mef. Madam, he's married to Octavia.

Clea. The most infectious peftilence upon thee!

Mef. Good Madam, patience.

Cleo. What fay you?

[Strikes him down.

[Strikes him.

Hence, horrible villain, or I'll fpurn thine eyes

Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head;

[She bales bim up and down.

Thou shalt be whipt with wire, and stew'd in brine, Smarting in lingring pickle.

Mef. Gracious Madam,

I, that do bring the news, made, not the match.

Cleo. Say, 'tis not fo, a province I will give thee, And make thy fortunes proud; the blow, thou hadft, Shall make thy peace, for moving me to rage,

And I will boot thee with what gift befide

Thy modefty can beg.

Mef. He's married, Madam.

Cleo. Rogue, thou haft liv'd too long.

Mef. Nay, then I'll run:

[Draws a Kne.

What mean you, Madam? I have made no fault.

[Exit.

Char. Good Madam, keep yourself within yourself,

The

The man is innocent.

Cleo. Some innocents 'fcape not the thunderboltMelt Egypt into Nile; and kindly creatures Turn all to ferpents! Call the flave again, Though I am mad, I will not bite him. Call. Char. He is afraid to come.

Cleo, I will not hurt him.

These hands do lack nobility, that they strike
A meaner than myself, fince I myself
Have given myself the cause. Come hither, Sir.

Re-enter the Messenger.

Though it be honeft, it is never good

To bring bad news.

Give to a gracious meffage

An host of tongues, but let ill tidings tell

Themfelves, when they be felt.

Mef. I have done my duty.

Cleo. Is he married?

I cannot hate thee worfer than I do,

If you again fay, Yes.

Mef. He's married, Madam.

Cleo. The Gods confound thee! doft thou hold there ftill?

Mef. Should I lye, Madam?

Cleo. Oh, I would, thou didst ;

So half my Egypt were fubmerg'd, and made
A ciftern for fcal'd fnakes! go, get thee hence,
Hadft thou Narciffus in thy face, to me
Thou wouldst appear moft ugly he is married?
Mef. I crave your Highness" pardon.

Cleo. He is married?.

Mef. Take no offence, that I would not offend you To punish me for what you make me do, Seems much unequal. He's married to Octavia. Cleo. Oh, that his fault fhould make a knave of

thee,

That