Cl. My eu'lls are wholy vsupportable, No humain force can them withstand, but death.

Eras. To him that striues nought is impossible.

Cl. In striuing lyes no hope of my mishapps.

Eras. All things do yeelde to force of louely face.

Cl. My face too louely caus'd my wretched case. My face hath so entrap'd, so cast vs downe, That for his conquest Caesar may it thanke, Causing that Antony one army lost The other wholy did to Caesar yeld. For not induring (so his amorouse sprite Was with my beautie fir'de) my shamefull flight, Soone as he saw from ranke wherein he stoode In hottest fight, my Gallies making saile: Forgetfull of his charge (as if his soule Vnto his Ladies soule had bene enchain'd) He left his men, who so couragiouslie Did leaue their liues to gaine him victorie. And carelesse both of fame and armies losse My oared Gallies follow'd with his Ships Companion of my flight, by this base parte Blasting his former flourishing renowne.

Eras. Are you therefore cause of his ouerthrowe?

Cl. I am sole cause: I did it, only I.

Er. Feare of a woman troubled so his sprite?

Cl. Fire of his loue was by my feare enflam'd.

Er. And should he then to warre haue ledd a Queene?

Cl. Alas! this was not his offence, but mine. Antony (ay me! who else so braue a chiefe!) Would not I should haue taken Seas with him: But would haue left me fearfull woman farre From common hazard of the doubtfull warre. O that I had beleu'd! now, now of Rome All the great Empire at our beck should bende. All should obey, the vagabonding Scythes, The feared Germains, back-shooting Parthians, Wandring Numidians, Brittons farre remoou'd, And tawny nations scorched with the Sunne. But I car'd not: so was my soule possest, (To my great harme) with burning iealousie: Fearing least in my absence Antony Should leauing me retake Octauia.

Char. Such was the rigour of your destinie.

Cl. Such was my errour and obstinacie.

Ch. But since Gods would not, could you doe withall?

Cl. Alwaies from Gods good happs, not harms, do fall.

Ch. And haue they not all power on mens affaires?

Cl. They neuer bow so lowe, as worldly cares. But leaue to mortall men to be dispos'd Freelie on earth what euer mortall is. If we therin sometimes some faultes commit, We may them not to their high maiesties, But to our selues impute; whose passions Plunge vs each day in all afflictions. Wherwith when we our soules do thorned feele, Flatt'ring our selues we say they dest'nies are: That Gods would haue it so, and that our care Could not empeach but that it must be so.

Char. Things here belowe are in the heau'ns begot, Before they be in this our worlde borne: And neuer can our weaknes turne awry The stailes course of powerfull destenie. Nought here force, reason, humaine prouidence, Holie deuotion, noble bloud preuailes: And Ioue himselfe whose hand doth heauens rule, Who both to Gods and men as King commaunds, Who earth (our firme support) with plenty stores, Moues aire and sea with twinckling of his eie, Who all can doe, yet neuer can vndoe What once hath been by their hard laws decreed. When Troian walles, great Neptunes workmanship, Enuiron'd were with Greekes, and Fortunes whele Doubtfull ten yeares now to the campe did turne, And now againe towards the towne return'd: How many times did force and fury swell In Hectors veines egging him to the spoile Of conquer'd foes, which at his blowes did flie, As fearfull shepe at feared wolues approche: To saue (in vaine: for why? it would not be) Pore walles of Troie from aduersaries rage, Who died them in bloud, and cast to ground Heap'd them with bloudie burning carcases. No, Madame, thinke, that if the ancient crowne Of your progenitors that Nilus rul'd, Force take from you; the Gods haue will'd it so, To whome oft times Princes are odiouse. They haue to euery thing an end ordain'd; All worldly greatnes by them bounded is; Some sooner, later some, as they think best: None their decree is able to infringe. But, which is more, to vs disastred men Which subiect are in all things to their will, Their will is hidd: nor while we liue, we know How, or how long we must in life remaine. Yet must we not for that feede on dispaire, And make vs wretched ere we wretched bee: But alwaies hope the best, euen to the last, That from our selues the mischief may not growe. Then, Madame, helpe your selfe, leaue of in time Antonies wracke, lest it your wracke procure: Retire you from him, saue frrom wrathfull rage Of angry Caesar both your Realme and you. You see him lost, so as your amitie Vnto his euills can yelde no more reliefe. You see him ruin'd, so as your support No more hencefourth can him with comfort raise. With-draw you from the storme: persist not still To loose your selfe: this royal diademe Regaine of Caesar.

Cl. Soner shining light Shall leaue the daie, and darknes leaue the night: Sooner moist currents of tempestuous seas Shall waue in heauen, and the nightlie troopes Of starres shall shine within the foming waues, Then I thee, Antonie, Leaue in depe distres. I am with thee, be it thy worthy soule Lodge in thy brest, or from that lodging parte Crossing the ioyles lake to take hir place In place prepared for men Demy-gods. Liue, if thee please, if life be lothsome die: Dead and aliue, Antonie, thou shalt see Thy princesse follow thee, folow, and lament, Thy wrack, no lesse her owne then was thy weale.

Char. What helps his wrack this euer-lasting loue?

Cl. Help, or help not, such must, such ought I proue.

Char. Ill done to loose your selfe, and to no ende.

Cl. How ill thinke you to follow such a frende?

Char. But this your loue nought mitigates his paine.

Cl. Without this loue I should be inhumaine.

Char. Inhumaine he, who his owne death pursues.

Cl. Not inhumaine who miseries eschues.

Ch. Liue for your sonnes.

Cl. Nay for their father die.

Cha. Hardhearted mother!

Cl. Wife kindhearted I.

Ch. Then will you them depriue of royall right?

Cl. Do I depriue them? no, it's dest'nies might.

Ch. Do you not them not depriue of heritage, That giue them vp to aduersaries handes, A man forsaken fearing to forsake, Whome such huge numbers hold enuironned? T' abandon one gainst whome the frowning world Banded with Caesar makes conspiring warre.

Cl. The lesse ought I to leaue him lest of all. A frend in most distresse should most assist. If that when Antonie great and glorious His legions led to drinke Euphrates streames, So many Kings in traine redoubting him; In triumph rais'd as high as highest heaun; Lord-like disposing as him pleased best, The wealth of Greece, the wealth ofAsia: In that faire fortune had I him exchaung'd For Caesar, then, men would haue counted me Faithles, vnconstant, light: but now the storme, And blustring tempest driuing on his face, Readie to drowne, Alas! what would they saie? What would himselfe in Plutos mansion saie? If I, whome alwaies more then life he lou'de, If I, who am his heart, who was his hope, Leaue him, forsake him (and perhaps in vaine) Weakly to please who him hath ouerthrowne? Not light, vnconstant, faithlesse should I be, But vile, forsworne, of treachrous crueltie.

Ch. Crueltie to shunne, you selfe-cruell are.

Cl. Selfe-cruell him from crueltie to spare.

Ch. Our first affection to our selfe is due.

Cl. He is my selfe.

Ch. Next it extendes vnto Our children, frends, and to our countrie soile. And you for some respect of wiuelie loue, (Albee scarce wiuelie) loose your natiue land, Your children, frends, and (which is more) your life, With so strong charmes doth loue bewitch our witts: So fast in vs this fire once kindled flames. Yet if his harme by yours redresse might haue,

Cl. With mine it may be clos'de in darksome graue.

Ch. And that, as Alcest to hir selfe vnkinde, You might exempt him from the lawes of death. But he is sure to die: and now his sworde Alreadie moisted is in his warme bloude, Helples for any succour you can bring Against deaths stinge, which he must shortlie feele. Then let your loue be like the loue of olde Which Carian Queene did nourish in hir heart Of hir Mausolus: builde for him a tombe Whose statelinesse a wonder new may make. Let him, let him haue sumtuouse funeralles: Let graue thereon the horror of his fights: Let earth be buri'd with vnburied heaps. Frame ther Pharsaly, and discoulour'd stream's Of depe Enipeus: frame the grassie plaine, Which lodg'd his campe at siege of Mutina. Make all his combats, and couragiouse acts: And yearly plaies to his praise institute: Honor his memorie: with doubled care Breed and bring vp the children of you both In Caesars grace: who as a noble Prince Will leaue them Lords of this most gloriouse realme.

Cl. What shame were that? ah Gods! what infamie! With Antonie in his good happs to share, And ouerliue him dead: deeming enough To shed some teares vpon a widdowe tombe? The after-liuers iustly might report That I him onlie for his empire lou'd, And high estate: and that in hard estate I for another did him lewdlie leaue? Like to those birds wafted with wandring wings From foraine lands in spring-time here arriue: And liue with vs so long as Somers heate, And their foode lasts, then seke another soile. And as we see with ceaslesse fluttering Flocking of seelly flies a brownish cloud To vintag'd wine yet working in the tonne, Not parting thence while they swete liquor taste: After, as smoke, all vanish in the aire, And of the swarme not one so much appeare.

Eras. By this sharp death what profit can you winne?

Cl. I neither gaine, nor profit seke therein.

Er. What praise shall you of after-ages gett?

Cl. Nor praise, nor glory in my cares are sett.

Er. What other end ought you respect, then this?

Cl. My only ende my onely dutie is.

Er. your dutie must vpon some good be founded.

Cl. On vertue it, the onlie good, is grounded.

Er. What is that vertue?

Cl. That which vs beseemes.

Er. Outrage our selues? who that beseeming deemes?

Cl. Finish I will my sorowes dieng thus.

Er. Minish you will your glories doing thus.

Cl. Good frends I praie you seeke not to reuoke My fix'd intent of folowing Antonie. I will die. I will die: must not his life, His life and death by mine be folowed? Meane while, deare sisters, liue: and while you liue, Doe often honor to our loued Tombes. Straw them with flowrs: and sometimes happelie The tender thought of Antonie your Lorde And me poore soule to teares shall you inuite, And our true loues your dolefull voice commend.

Ch. And thinke you Madame, we from you will part? Thinke you alone to feele deaths ougly darte? Thinke you to leaue vs? and that the same sunne Shall see at once you dead, and vs aliue? Weele die with you: and Clotho pittilesse Shall vs with you in hellish boate imbarque.

Cl. Ah liue, I praie you: this disastred woe Which racks my heart, alone to me belonges: My lott longs not to you: seruants to be No shame, no harme to you, as is to me. Liue sisters, liue, and seing his suspect Hath causlesse me in sea of sorowes drown'd, And that I can not liue, if so I would, Nor yet would leaue this life, if so I could, Without, his loue: procure me, Diomed, That gainst poore me he be no more incensd. Wrest out of his conceit that harmfull doubt, That since his wracke he hath of me conceiu'd Though wrong conceiu'd: witnesse you reuerent Gods, Barking Anubis, Apis bellowing. Tell him, my soule burning, impatient, Forlorne with loue of him, for certaine seale Of her true loialtie my corpse hath left, T' encrease of dead the number numberlesse. Go then, and if as yet he me bewaile, If yet for me his heart one sign fourth breathe Blest shall I be: and farre with more content Depart this world, where so I me torment. Meane season vs let this sadd tombe enclose, Attending here till death conclude our woes.

Diom. I will obey your will.

Cl. So the desert The Gods repay of thy true faithfull heart.

Diomed.

And is't not pittie, Gods, ah Gods of heau'n! To see from loue such hatefull frutes to spring? And is't not pittie that this firebrand so Laies waste the trophes of Philippi fieldes? Where are those swete allurements, those swete lookes, Which Gods themselues right hart-sicke would haue made? What doth that beautie, rarest guift of heau'n, Wonder of earth? Alas! what doe those eies? And that swete voice all Asia vnderstoode, And sunburnt Afrike wide in deserts spred? Is their force dead? haue they no further power? Can not by them Octauius be supriz'd? Alas! if Ioue in middst of all his ire, With thunderbolt in hand some land to plague, Had cast his eies on my Queene, out of hande His plaguing bolte had falne out of his hande: Fire of his wrathe into vaine smoke should turne, And other fire within his brest should burne. Nought liues so faire. Nature by such a worke Her selfe, should seme, in workmanship hath past. She is all heau'nlie: neuer any man But seing hir was rauish'd with her sight. The Allablaster couering of hir face, The corall coullor hir two lipps engraines, Her beamie eies, two Sunnes of this our world, Of hir faire haire the fine and flaming golde, Her braue streight stature, and hir winning partes Are nothing else but fiers, fetters, dartes. Yet this is nothing th'e'nchaunting skilles Of her celestiall Sp'rite, hir training speache, Her grace, hir Maiestie, and forcing voice, Whither she it with fingers speach consorte, Or hearing sceptred kings embassadors Answer to eache in his owne language make. Yet now at nede she aides hir not at all With all these beauties, so hir sorowe stings. Darkned with woe hir only studie is To wepe, to sigh, to seke for lonelines. Careles of all, hir haire disordred hangs: Hir charming eies whence murthring looks did flie, Now riuers grown', whose wellspring anguish is, Do trickling wash the marble of hir face. Hir faire discouer'd brest with sobbing swolne Selfe cruell she still martireth with blowes, Alas! It's our ill happ, for if hir teares She would conuert into hir louing charmes, To make a conquest of the conqueror, (As well shee might, would she hir force imploie) She should vs saftie from these ills procure, Hir crowne to hir, and to hir race assure. Vnhappy he, in whome selfe-succour lies, Yet self-forsaken wanting succour dies.

Chorus.

O swete fertile land, wherin Phaebus did with breath inspire Man who men did first begin, Formed first of Nilus mire. Whence of Artes the eldest kindes, Earthes most heauenly ornament, Were as from their fountaine sent, To enlight our mistie mindes. Whose grosse sprite from endles time, As in darkned prison pente, Neuer did to knowledg clime. Wher the Nile, our father good, Father-like doth neuer misse Yearely vs to bring such food, As to life required is: Visiting each yeare this plaine, And with fatt slime cou'ring it, Which his seauen mouthes do spitt, As the season comes againe. Making therby greatest growe Busie reapers ioyfull paine, When his flouds do highest flowe. Wandring Prince of riuers thou, Honor of the AEthiops lande, Of a Lord and master now Thou a slaue in awe must stand. Now of Tiber which is spred Lesse in force, and lesse in fame Reuerence thou must the name, Whome all other riuers dread, For his children swolne in pride, Who by conquest seeke to treade Round this earth on euery side. Now thou must begin to sende Tribute of thy watrie store, As Sea pathes thy stepps shall bende, Yearely presents more and more. Thy fatt skumme, our frutefull corne, Pill'd from hence with theeuish hands All vncloth'd shall leaue our lands Into foraine Countrie borne. Which puft vp with such a pray Shall therby the praise adorne Of that scepter Rome doth sway. Nought thee helps thy hornes to hide Farre from hence in vnknowne grounds, That thy waters wander wide, Yearely breaking bankes, and bounds. And that thy Skie-coullor'd brookes Through a hundred peoples passe, Drawing plots for trees and grasse With a thousand turn's and crookes. Whome all weary of their way Thy throats which in widenesse passe Powre into their Mother Sea. Nought so happie haplesse life "In this worlde as freedome findes: "Nought wherin more sparkes are rife "To inflame couragious mindes. "But if force must vs enforce "Nedes a yoke to vndergoe, "Vnder foraine yoke to goe "Still it proues a bondage worse. "And doubled subiection "See we shall, and feele, and knowe "Subiect to a stranger growne. From hence forward for a King, whose first being from this place Should his brest by nature bring Care of Countrie to embrace, We at surly face must quake Of some Romaine madly bent: Who, our terrour to augment, His Proconsuls axe will shake. Driuing with our Kings from hence Our establish'd gouerment, Iustice sworde, and Lawes defence. Nothing worldly of such might But more mightie Destinie, By swift Times vnbridled flight, Makes in ende his ende to see. Euery thing Time ouerthrowes, Nought to ende doth stedfast staie: His great sithe mowes all away As the stalke of tender rose. Onlie Immortalitie Of the Heau'ns doth it oppose Gainst his powerfull Deitie. One daie there will come a daie Which shall quaile thy fortunes flower, And thee ruinde low shall laie In some barbarous Princes power. When the pittie-wanting fire Shall, O Rome, thy beauties burne, And to humble ashes turne Thy proud wealth, and rich attire, Those guilt roofes which turretwise, Iustly making Enuie mourne, Threaten now to pearce Skies. As thy forces fill each land Haruests making here and there, Reaping all with rauening hand They finde growing any where: From each land so to thy fall Multitudes repaire shall make, From the common spoile to take What to each mans share maie fall. Fingred all thou shalt beholde: No iote left for tokens sake That thou wert so great of olde. Like vnto the auncient Troie Whence deriu'de thy founders be, Conqu'ring foe shall thee enioie, And a burning praie in thee. For within this turning ball This we see, and see each daie: All things fixed ends do staie, Ends to first beginnings fall. And that nought, how strong or strange, Chaungles doth endure alwaie, But endureth fatall change.

M. Antonius. Lucilius.

M. Ant.

Lucil, sole comfort of my bitter case, The only trust, the only hope I haue, In last despaire: Ah! is not this the daie That death should me of life and loue bereaue? What waite I for that haue no refuge left, But am sole remnant of my fortune left? All leaue me, flie me: none, no not of them Which of my greatnes greatest good receiu'd, Stands with my fall: they seeme as now asham'de That heretofore they did me ought regarde: They draw them back, shewing they folow'd me, Not to partake my harm's, but coozen me.

Lu. In this our world nothing is stedfast found, In vaine he hopes, who here his hopes doth gro[un]d.

Ant. Yet nought afflicts me, nothing killes me so, As that I so my Cleopatra see Practize with Caesar, and to him transport My flame, her loue, more deare then life to me.

Lu. Beleeue it not: Too high a heart she beares, Too Princelie thoughts.

Ant. Too wise a head she weare Too much enflam'd with greatnes, euermore Gaping for our great Empires gouerment.

Lu. So long time you her constant loue haue tri'de.

Ant. But still with me good fortune did abide.

Lu. Her changed loue what token makes you know?

An. Pelusium lost, and Actian ouerthrow, Both by her fraud: my well appointed fleet, And trustie Souldiors in my quarell arm'd, Whom she, false she, in stede of my defence, Came to persuade, to yelde them to my foe: Such honor Thyre done, such welcome giuen, Their long close talkes I neither knew, nor would, And treacherouse wrong Alexas hath me done, Witnes too well her periur'd loue to me. But you O Gods (if any faith regarde) With sharpe reuenge her faithles change reward.

Lu. The dole she made vpon our ouerthrow, Her Realme giuen vp for refuge to our men, Her poore attire when she deuoutly kept The solemne day of her natiuitie, Againe the cost, and prodigall expence Shew'd when she did your birth day celebrate, Do plaine enough her heart vnfained proue, Equally toucht, you louing, as you loue.

Ant. Well; be her loue to me or false, or true, Once in my soule a cureles wound I feele. I loue, nay burne in fire of her loue: Each day, each night her Image haunts my minde, Her selfe my dreams: and still I tired am, And still I am with burning pincers nipt. Extreame my harme: yet sweeter to my sence Then boiling Torch of iealouse torments fire: This grief, nay rage, in me such sturre doth kepe, And thornes me still, both when I wake and slepe. Take Caesar conquest, take my goods, take he Th'onor to be Lord of the earth alone, My Sonnes, my life bent headlong to mishapps: No force, so not my Cleopatra take. So foolish I, I can not her forget, Though better were I banisht her my thought. Like to the sicke, whose throte the feauers fire Hath vehemently with thirstie drouth enflam'd, Drinkes still, albee the drinke he still desires Be nothing else but fewell to his flame: He can not rule himselfe: his health's respect Yeldeth to his distempred stomackes heate.

Lu. Leaue of this loue, that thus renewes your woe.

Ant. I do my best, but ah! can not do so.

Lu. Thinke how you haue so braue a captaine bene, And now are by this vaine affection falne.

Ant. The ceasles thought of my felicitie Plunges me more in this aduersitie. For nothing so a man in ill torments, As who to him his good state represents. This makes my rack, my anguish, and my woe Equall vnto the hellish passions growe, When I to minde my happie puisance call Which erst I had by warlike conquest wonne, And that good fortune which me neuer left, Which hard disastre now hath me bereft. With terror tremble all the world I made At my sole worde, as Rushes in the streames At waters will: I conquer'd Italie, I conquer'd Rome, that Nations so redoubt. I bare (meane while besieging Mutina) Two Consuls armies for my ruine brought, Bath'd in their bloud, by their deaths witnessing My force and skill in matters Martiall. To wreake thy vnkle, vnkinde Caesar, I With bloud of enemies the bankes embru'd Of stain'd Enipeus, hindering his course Stopped with heapes of piled carcases: When Cassius and Brutus ill betide Marcht against vs, by vs twise put to flight, But by my sole conduct: for all the time Caesar heart-sicke with feare and feauer laie. Who knowes it not? and how by euery one Fame of the fact was giu'n to me alone. There sprang the loue, the neuer changing loue, Wherein my hart hath since to yours bene bound: There was it, my Lucil, you Brutus sau'de, And for your Brutus Antonie you found. Better my happ in gaining such a frende, Then in subduing such an enemie. Now former vertue dead doth me forsake, Fortune engulfes me in extreame distresse: She turnes from me her smiling countenance, Casting on me mishapp vpon mishapp, Left and betraide of thousand thousand frends, Once of my sute, but you Lucil are left, Remaining to me stedfast as a tower In holy loue, in spite of fortunes blastes. But if of any God my voice be heard, And be not vainely scatt'red in the heau'ns, Such goodnes shall not glorilesse be loste, But comming ages still therof shall boste.

Lu. Men in their frendship euer should be one, And neuer ought with fickle Fortune shake, Which still remoues, nor will, nor knowes the way, Her rowling bowle in one sure state to staie. Wherfore we ought as borrow'd things receiue The goods light she lends vs to pay againe: Not holde them sure, nor on them builde our hopes As one such goods as cannot faile, and fall: But thinke againe, nothing is dureable, Vertue except, our neuer failing hoste: So bearing saile when fauouring windes do blowe, As frowning Tempests may vs least dismaie When they on vs do fall: not ouer-glad With good estate, nor ouer-grieu'd with bad. Resist mishap.

Ant. Alas! it is too stronge. Mishappes oft times are by some comfort borne: But these, ay me! whose weights oppresse my hart, Too heauie lie, no hope can them relieue. There rests no more, but that with cruell blade For lingring death a hastie waie be made.

Lu. Caesar, as heire vnto his Fathers state: So will his Fathers goodnes imitate, To you warde: whome he know's allied in bloud, Allied in mariage, ruling equallie Th' Empire with him, and with him making warre Haue purg'd the earth of Caesars murtherers. You into portions parted haue the world Euen like coheir's their heritages parte: And now with one accord so many yeares In quiet peace both haue your charges rul'd.

Ant. Bloud and alliance nothing do preuaile To coole the thirst of hote ambitious breasts: The sonne his Father hardly can endure, Brother his brother, in one common Realme. So feruent this desier to commaund: Such iealousie it kindleth in our hearts. Sooner will men permit another should Loue her they loue, then weare the Crowne they weare. All lawes it breakes, turns all things vpside downe: Amitie, kindred, nought so holie is But it defiles. A monarchie to gaine None cares which way, so he maie it obtaine.

Lu. Suppose he Monarch be and that this world No more acknowledg sundrie Emperours. That Rome him onelie feare, and that he ioyne The East with west, and both at once do rule: Why should he not permitt you peaceablie Discharg'd of charge and Empires dignitie, Priuate to liue reading Philosophie, In learned Greece, Spaine, Asia, anie lande?

_Ant._ Neuer will he his Empire thinke assur'de While in this world _Marke Antonie_ shall liue._ Sleeples Suspicion, Pale distrust, colde feare Alwaies to princes companie do beare Bred of Reports: reports which night and day Perpetuall guests from Court go not away.

Lu. He hath not slaine your brother Lucius, Nor shortned hath the age of Lepidus, Albeit both into his hands were falne, And he with wrath against them both enflam'd. Yet one, as Lord in quiet rest doth beare The greatest sway in great Iberia. The other with his gentle Prince retaines Of highest Priest the sacred dignitie.

Ant. He feares not them, their feeble force he knowes.

Lu. He feares no vanquisht ouerfill'd with woes.

Ant. Fortune may chaunge againe,

L. A down-cast foe Can hardlie rise, which once is brought so lowe.

Ant. All that I can, is done: for last assay (When all means fail'd) I to entreatie fell, (Ah coward creature!) whence againe repulst Of combate I vnto him proffer made: Though he in prime, and I by feeble age Mightily weakned both in force and skill. Yet could not he his coward heart aduaunce Baselie affraid to trie so praisefull chaunce. This makes me plaine, makes me my selfe accuse, Fortune in this hir spitefull force doth vse 'Gainst my gray hayres: in this vnhappie I Repine at heau'ns in my happes pittiles. A man, a woman both in might and minde, In Marses schole who neuer lesson learn'd, Should me repulse, chase, ouerthrow, destroie, Me of such fame, bring to so lowe an ebbe? Alcides bloud, who from my infancie With happie prowesse crowned haue my praise. Witnesse thou Gaule vnus'd to seruile yoke, Thou valiant Spaine, you fields of Thessalie With millions of mourning cries bewail'd, Twise watred now with bloude of Italie.

Lu. witnesse may Afrique, and of conquer'd world All fower quarters witnesses may be. For in what part of earth inhabited, Hungrie of praise haue you not ensignes spredd?

An. Thou know'st rich AEgypt (AEgypt of my deeds Faire and foule subiect) AEgypt ah! thou know'st How I behau'd me fighting for thy kinge, When I regainde him his rebellious Realme. Against his foes in battaile shewing force, And after fight in victorie remorse. Yet if to bring my glorie to the ground, Fortune had made me ouerthrowne by one Of greater force, of better skill then I; One of those Captaines feared so of olde, Camill, Marcellus, worthy Scipio, This late great Caesar, honor of our state, Or that great Pompei aged growne in armes; That after haruest of a world of men Made in a hundred battailes, fights, assaults, My bodie thorow pearst with push of pike Had vomited my bloud, in bloud my life, In midd'st of millions felowes in my fall: The lesse hir wrong, the lesse should my woe: Nor she should paine, nor I complain me so. No, no, wheras I should haue died in armes, And vanquisht oft new armies should haue arm'd, New battailes giuen, and rather lost with me All this whole world submitted vnto me: A man who neuer saw enlaced pikes With bristled pointes against his stomake bent, Who feares the field, and hides him cowardly Dead at the verie noise the souldiors make. His vertue, fraude, deceit, malicious guile, His armes the arts that false Vlisses vs'de, Knowne at Modena, wher the Consuls both Death-wounded were, and wounded by his men To gett their armie, warre with it to make Against his faith, against his countrie soile. Of Lepidus, which to his succours came, To honor whome he was by dutie bounde; The Empire he vsurpt: corrupting first With baites and bribes the most part of his men. Yet me hath ouercome, and made his pray, And state of Rome, with me hath ouercome. Strange! one disordred act at Actium The earth subdu'de, my glorie hath obscur'd. For since, as one whome heauens wrath attaints, With furie caught, and more then furious Vex'd with my euills, I neuer more had care My armies lost, or lost name to repaire: I did no more resist.

Lu. All warres affaires, But battailes most, daily haue their successe Now good, now ill: and though that fortune haue Great force and power in euery worldlie thing, Rule all, do all, haue all things fast enchaind Vnto the circle of hir turning wheele: Yet seemes it more then any practise else She doth frequent Ballonas bloudie trade: And that hir fauour, wauering as the wind, Hir greatest power therin doth oftnest shewe. Whence growes, we dailie see, who in their youth Gatt honor ther, do loose it in their age, Vanquisht by some lesse warlike then themselues: Whome yet a meaner man shall ouerthrowe. Hir vse is not to lende vs still her hande, But sometimes headlong back a gaine to throwe, When by hir fauor she hath vs extolld Vnto the topp of highest happines.

Ant. well ought I curse within my grieued soule, Lamenting daie and night, this sencelesse loue, Whereby my faire entising foe entrap'd My hedelesse Reason, could no more escape. It was not fortunes euer chaunging face, It was not Dest'nies chaungles violence Forg'd my mishap. Alas! who doth not know They make, nor marre, nor any thing can doe. Fortune, which men so feare, adore, detest, Is but a chaunce whose cause vnknow'n doth rest. Although oft times the cause is well perceiu'd, But not th'effect the fame that was conceiu'd. Pleasure, nought else, the plague of this our life, Our life which still a thousand plagues pursue, Alone hath me this strange disastre spunne, Falne from a souldior to a Chamberer, Careles of vertue, careles of all praise. Nay, as the fatted swine in filthy mire With glutted heart I wallow'd in delights, All thoughts of honor troden vnder foote. So I me lost: for finding this swete cupp Pleasing my tast, vnwise I drunke my fill, And through the swetenes of that poisons power By stepps I draue my former witts astraie. I made my frends, offended me forsake, I holpe my foes against my selfe to rise. I robd my subiects, and for followers I saw my selfe besett with flatterers. Mine idle armes faire wrought with spiders worke, My scattred men without their ensignes strai'd: Caesar meane while who neuer would haue dar'de To cope with me, me sodainlie despis'de, Tooke hart to fight, and hop'de for victorie On one so gone, who glorie had forgone.

Lu. Enchaunting pleasure; Venus swete delights Weaken our bodies, ouer-cloud our sprights, Trouble our reason, from our harts out chase All holie vertues lodging in their place. Like as the cunning fisher takes the fishe By traitor baite wherby the hooke is hidde: So Pleasure serues to vice in steede of foode To baite our soules theron too licourishe. This poison deadlie is alike to all, But on great kings doth greatest outrage worke, Taking the Roiall scepters from their hands, Thenceforward to be by some straunger borne: While that their people charg'd with heauy loades Their flatt'rers pill, and suck their mary drie, Not ru'lde but left to great men as a pray, While this fonde Prince himselfe in pleasur's drowns: Who heares nought, sees nought, doth nought of a king, Seming himselfe against himselfe conspirde. Then equall Iustice wandreth banished, And in hir seat sitts greedie Tyrannie. Confus'd disorder troubleth all estates, Crimes without feare and outrages are done. Then mutinous Rebellion shewes hir face, Now hid with this, and now with that pretence, Prouoking enimies, which on each side Enter at ease, and make them Lords of all. The hurtfull workes of pleasure here behold.

An. The wolfe is not so hurtfull to the folde, Frost to the grapes, to ripened fruits the raine: As pleasure is to Princes full of paine.

Lu. Ther nedes no proofe, but by th' Assirian kinge, On whome that Monster woefull wrack did bring.

An. Ther nedes no proofe, but by vnhappie I, Who lost my empire, honor, life therby.

Lu. Yet hath this ill so much the greater force, As scarcelie anie do against it stand: No, not the Demy-gods the olde world knew, Who all subdu'de, could Pleasures power subdue. Great Hercules, Hercules once that was Wonder of earth and heau'n, matchles in might, Who Anteus, Lycus, Geryon ouercame, Who drew from hell the triple-headed dogg, Who Hydra kill'd, vanquishd Achelous, Who heauens weight on his strong shoulders bare: Did he not vnder Pleasures burthen bow? Did he not Captiue to this passion yelde, When by his Captiue, so he was enflam'de, As now your selfe in Cleopatra burne? Slept in hir lapp, hir bosome kist and kiste, With base vnsemelie seruice bought her loue, Spinning at distaffe, and with sinewy hand Winding on spindles threde, in maides attire? His conqu'ring clubbe at rest on wal did hang: His bow vnstringd he bent not as he vs'de: Vpon his shafts the weauing spiders spunne: And his hard cloake the freating mothes did pierce. The monsters free and fearles all the time Throughout the world the people did torment, And more and more encreasing daie by day Scorn'd his weake heart become a mistresse plaie.

An. In onelie this like Hercules am I, In this I proue me of his lignage right: In this himselfe, his deedes I shew in this, In this, nought else, my ancestor he is. But go we: die I must, and with braue ende Conclusion make of all foregoing harmes: Die, die I must: I must a noble death, A glorious death vnto my succor call: I must deface the shame of time abus'd, I must adorne the wanton loues I vs'de With some couragiouse act: that my last daie By mine owne hand my spotts may wash away. Come deare Lucill: alas! why wepe you thus! This mortall lot is common to vs all. We must all die, each doth in homage owe Vnto that God that shar'd the Realmes belowe. Ah sigh no more: alas: appeace your woes, For by your griefe my griefe more eager growes.

Chorus.

Alas, with what tormenting fire. Vs martireth this blinde desire To staie our life from flieng! How ceasleslie our minds doth rack, How heauie lies vpon our back This dastard feare of dieng! Death rather healthfull succor giues, Death rather all mishappes relieues That life vpon vs throweth: And euer to vs doth vnclose The doore, wherby from curelesse woes Our wearie soule out goeth. What Goddesse else more milde then shee To burie all our paine can be, What remedie more pleasing? Our pained hearts when dolor stings, And nothing rest, or respite brings, What help haue we more easing? Hope which to vs doth comfort giue, And doth or fainting hearts reuiue, Hath not such force in anguish: For promising a vaine reliefe She oft vs failes in midst of griefe, And helples letts vs languish. But Death who call on her at nede Doth neuer with vaine semblant feed, But when them sorow paineth, So riddes their soules of all distresse Whose heauie weight did them oppresse, That not one griefe remaineth. Who feareles and with courage bolde Can Acherons black face beholde, Which muddie water beareth: And crossing ouer, in the way Is not amaz'd at Perruque gray Olde rustie Charon weareth: Who voide of dread can looke vpon The dreadfull shades that rome alone, On bankes where sound no voices: Whom with her fire-brands and her Snakes No whit afraide Alecto makes, Nor triple-barking noyses: Who freely can himselfe dispose Of that last hower which all must close, And leaue this life at pleasure: This noble freedome more esteemes, And in his hart more precious deemes, Then Crowne and kingly treasure. The waues which Boreas blasts turmoile And cause with foaming furie boile, Make not his heart to tremble: Nor brutish broile, when with strong head A rebell people madly ledde Against their Lords assemble: Nor fearfull face of Tirant wood, Who breaths but threats, and drinks but bloud, No, nor the hand which thunder, The hand of Ioue which thunder beares, And ribbs of rocks in sunder teares, Teares mountains sides in sunder: Nor bloudie Marses butchering bands, Whose lightnings desert laie the lands whome dustie cloudes do couer: From of whose armour sun-beames flie, And vnder them make quaking lie The plaines wheron they houer: Nor yet the cruell murth'ring blade Warme in the moistie bowells made of people pell mell dieng In some great Cittie put to sack By sauage Tirant brought to wrack, At his colde mercie lieng. How abiect him, how base think I, Who wanting courage can not dye When need him therto calleth? From whom the dagger drawne to kill The curelesse griefes that vexe him still For feare and faintnes falleth? O Antonie with thy deare mate Both in misfortunes fortunate! Whose thoughts to death aspiring Shall you protect from victors rage, Who on each side doth you encage, To triumph much desiring. That Caesar may you not offend Nought else but Death can you defend, which his weake force derideth, And all in this round earth containd, Powr'les on them whom once enchaind Auernus prison hideth: Where great Psammetiques ghost doth rest, Not with infernall paine possest, But in swete fields detained: And olde Amasis soule likewise, And all our famous Ptolemies That whilome on vs raigned.



Act. 4.

Caesar. Agrippa. Dircetus the Messenger.

Caesar.

_You euer-liuing Gods which all things holde Within the power of your celestiall hands, By whom heate, colde, the thunder, and the winde, The properties of enterchaunging mon'ths Their course and being haue, which do set downe Of Empires by your destinied decree The force, age, time, and subiect to no chaunge Chaunge all, reseruing nothing in one state: You haue aduaunst, as high as thundring heau'n The _Romains_ greatnes by _Bellonas_ might: Mastring the world with fearfull violence, Making the world widow of libertie. Yet at this daie this proud exalted _Rome_ Despoil'd, captiu'd, at one mans will doth bende: Her Empire mine, her life is in my hand, As Monarch I both world and _Rome_ commaund; Do all, can all; fourth my commaund'ment cast Like thundring fire from one to other Pole Equall to Ioue: bestowing by my worde Happes and mishappes, as Fortunes King and Lord. No Towne there is, but vp my Image settes, But sacrifice to me doth dayly make: Whither where _Phaebus_ ioyne his morning steedes, Or where the night them weary entertaines, Or where the heat the _Garamants_ doth scorche, Or where the colde from _Boreas_ breast is blowne: All _Caesar_ do both awe and honor beare, And crowned Kings his verie name do feare. _Antonie_ knowes it well, for whom not one Of all the Princes all this earth do rule, Armes against me: for all redoubt the power Which heau'nly powers on earth haue made me beare. _Antonie_, he poore man with fire enflam'de A womans beauties kindled in his heart, Rose against me, who longer could not beare My sisters wrong he did so ill entreat: Seing her left while that his leud delights Her husband with his _Cleopatra_ tooke In _Alexandrie_, where both nights and daies Their time they pass'd in nought but loues and plaies. All _Asias_ forces into one he drewe, And forth he sett vpon the azur'd waues A thousand and a thousand Shipps, which fill'd With Souldiors, pikes, with targets, arrowes, darts, Made _Neptune_ quake, and all the watrie troupes Of _Glauques_, and _Tritons_ lodg'd at _Actium_. But mightie Gods, who still the force withstand Of him, who causles doth another wrong, In lesse then moments space redus'd to nought All that proud power by Sea or land he brought.

Agr. Presumptuouse pride of high and hawtie sprite, Voluptuouse care of fonde and foolish loue, Haue iustly wrought his wrack: who thought he helde (By ouerweening) Fortune in his hand. Of vs he made no count, but as to play, So fearles came our forces to assay. So sometimes fell to Sonnes of Mother Earth, Which crawl'd to heau'n warre on the Gods to make, Olymp on Pelion, Ossaon Olymp, Pindus on Ossa loading by degrees: That at hand strokes with mightie clubbes they might On mossie rocks the Gods make tumble downe: When mightie Ioue with burning anger chaf'd, Disbraind with him Gyges and Briareus, Blunting his darts vpon their brused bones. For no one thing the Gods can lesse abide In dedes of men, then Arrogance and Pride. And still the proud, which too much takes in hand, Shall fowlest fall, where best he thinks to stand.

Caes. Right as some Pallace, or some stately tower, Which ouer-lookes the neighbour buildings round In scorning wise, and to the Starres vp growes, Which in short time his owne weight ouerthrowes. What monstrous pride, nay what impietie Incen'st him onward to the Gods disgrace? When his two children, Cleopatras bratts, To Phaebe and her brother he compar'd, Latonas race, causing them to be call'd The Sunne and Moone? Is not this folie right? And is not this the Gods to make his foes? And is not this himself to worke his woes?

Agr. In like proud sort he caus'd his head to leese The Iewish king Antigonus, to haue His Realme for balme, that Cleopatra lou'd, As though on him he had some treason prou'd.

Caes. Lydia to her, and Siria he gaue, Cyprus of golde, Arabia rich of smelles: And to his children more Cilicia, Parth's, Medes, Armenia, Phaenicia: The kings of kings proclaiming them to be, By his owne worde, as by a sound decree.

Agr. What? Robbing his owne countrie of her due Triumph'd he not in Alexandria, Of Artabasus the Armenian King, Who yelded on his periur'd word to him?

Caes. Nay, neuer Rome more iniuries receiu'd, Since thou, o Romulus, by flight of birds with happy hand the Romain walles did'st build, Then Antonies fond loues to it hath done. Nor euer warre more holie, nor more iust, Nor vndertaken with more hard constraint, Then is this warre: which were it not, our state Within small time all dignitie should loose: Though I lament (thou Sunne my witnes art; And thou great Ioue) that it so deadly proues: That Romain bloud should in such plentie flowe, Watring the fields and pastures where we goe. What Carthage in olde hatred obstinate, What Gaule still barking at our rising state, What rebell Samnite, what fierce Pyrrhus power, What cruell Mithridate, what Parth hath wrought Such woe to Rome: whose common wealth he had, (Had he bene victor) into Egipt brought.

Agr. Surely the Gods, which haue this Cittie built Stedfast to stand as long as time endures, Which kepe the Capitoll, of vs take care, And care will take of those shall after come, Haue made you victor, that you might redresse Their honor growne by passed mischieues lesse.

Caes. The seelie man when all the Greekish Sea His fleete had hidd, in hope me sure to drowne, Me battaile gaue: where fortune, in my stede, Repulsing him his forces disaraied. Him selfe tooke flight, soone as his loue he saw All wanne through feare with full sailes flie away. His men, though lost, whome none did now direct, With courage fought fast grappled shipp with shipp, Charging, resisting, as their oares would serue, With darts, with swords, with Pikes, with fierie flames. So that the darkned night her starrie vaile Vpon the bloudie sea had ouer-spred, Whilst yet they held: and hardlie, hardlie then They fell to flieng on the wauie plaine. All full of Souldiors ouerwhelm'd with waues: The aire throughout with cries and grones did sound: The Sea did blush with bloud: the neighbor shores Groned, so they with shipwracks pestred were, And floting bodies left for pleasing foode To birds, and beasts, and fishes of the sea. You know it well Agrippa.

Ag. Mete it was The Romain Empire so should ruled be, As heau'n is rul'd: which turning ouer vs, All vnder things by his example turnes. Now as of heau'n one onely Lord we know: One onely Lord should rule this earth below. When one self pow're is common made to two, Their duties they nor suffer will, nor doe. In quarell still, in doubt, in hate, in feare; Meane while the people all the smart do beare.

Caes. Then to the ende none, while my daies endure, Seeking to raise himselfe may succours finde, We must with bloud marke this our victorie, For iust example to all memorie. Murther we must, vntill not one we leaue, Which may hereafter vs of rest bereaue.

Ag. Marke it with murthers? who of that can like?

Cae. Murthers must vse, who doth assurance seeke.

Ag. Assurance call you enemies to make?

Caes. I make no such, but such away I take.

Ag. Nothing so much as rigour doth displease.

Caes. Nothing so much doth make me liue at ease.

Ag. What ease to him that feared is of all?

Cae. Feared to be, and see his foes to fall.

Ag. Commonly feare doth brede and nourish hate.

Cae. Hate without pow'r comes comonly too late.

Ag. A feared Prince hath oft his death desir'd.

Cae. A Prince not fear'd hath oft his wrong conspir'de.

Ag. No guard so sure, no forte so strong doth proue, No such defence, as is the peoples loue.

Caes. Nought more vnsure more weak, more like the winde, Then Peoples fauor still to chaunge enclinde.

Ag. Good Gods! what loue to gracious Prince men beare!

Caes. What honor to the Prince that is seuere!

Ag. Nought more diuine then is Benignitie.

Cae. Nought likes the Gods as doth Seueritie.

Ag. Gods all forgiue.

Cae. On faults they paines do laie.

Ag. And giue their goods.

Cae. Oft times they take away.

Ag. They wreake them not, o Caesar, at each time That by our sinnes they are to wrathe prouok'd. Neither must you (beleue, I humblie praie) Your victorie with crueltie defile. The Gods it gaue, it must not be abus'd, But to the good of all men mildlie vs'd, And they be thank'd: that hauing giu'n you grace To raigne alone, and rule this earthlie masse, They may hence-forward hold it still in rest, All scattred power vnited in one brest.

Cae. But what is he, that breathles comes so fast, Approaching vs, and going in such hast?

Ag. He semes affraid: and vnder his arme I (But much I erre) a bloudie sworde espie.

Caes. I long to vnderstand what it may be.

Ag. He hither comes: it's best we stay and see.

Dirce. What good God now my voice will reenforce, That tell I may to rocks, and hilles, and woods, To waues of sea, which dash vpon the shore, To earth, to heau'n, the woefull newes I bring?

Ag. What sodaine chaunce thee towards vs hath brought?

Dir. A lamentable chance. O wrath of heau'ns! O Gods too pittiles!

Caes. What monstrous happ Wilt thou recount?

Dir. Alas too hard mishapp! When I but dreame of what mine eies beheld, My hart doth freeze, my limmes do quiuering quake, I senceles stand, my brest with tempest tost Killes in my throte my wordes, ere fully borne. Dead, dead he is: be sure of what I say, This murthering sword hath made the man away.

Caes. Alas my heart doth cleaue, pittie me rackes, My breast doth pant to heare this dolefull tale. Is Antonie then dead? To death, alas! I am the cause despaire him so compelld. But souldiour of his death the maner showe, And how he did this liuing light forgoe.

Dir. When Antonie no hope remaining saw How warre he might, or how agreement make, Saw him betraid by all his men of warre In euery fight as well by sea, as lande; That not content to yeld them to their foes They also came against himselfe to fight: Alone in Court he gan himself torment, Accuse the Queene, himselfe of hir lament, Call'd hir vntrue and traytresse, as who fought To yeld him vp she could no more defend: That in the harmes which for hir sake he bare, As in his blisfull state, she might not share. But she againe, who much his furie fear'd, Gatt to the Tombes, darke horrors dwelling place: Made lock the doores, and pull the hearses downe. Then fell shee wretched, with hir selfe to fight. A thousand plaints, a thousand sobbes she cast From hir weake brest which to the bones was torne, Of women hir the most vnhappie call'd, Who by hir loue, hir woefull loue, had lost Hir realme, hir life, and more, the loue of him, Who while he was, was all hir woes support. But that she faultles was she did inuoke For witnes heau'n, and aire, and earth, and sea. Then sent him worde, she was no more aliue, But lay inclosed dead within hir Tombe. This he beleeu'd; and fell to sigh and grone, And crost his armes, then thus began to mone.

Caes. Poore hopeles man!

Dir. What dost thou more attend? Ah Antonie! why dost thou death deferre? Since Fortune thy professed enimie, Hath made to die, who only made thee liue? Sone as with sighes he had these words vp clos'd, His armor he vnlaste, and cast it of, Then all disarm'd he thus againe did say: My Queene, my heart, the grief that now I feele, Is not that I your eies, my Sunne, do loose, For soone againe one Tombe shal vs conioyne: I grieue, whom men so valorouse did deeme, Should now, then you, of lesser valor seeme. So said, forthwith he Eros to him call'd, Eros his man; summond him on his faith To kill him at his nede. He tooke the sworde, And at that instant stab'd therwith his breast, And ending life fell dead before his fete. O Eros thankes (quoth Antonie) for this Most noble acte, who pow'rles me to kill, On thee hast done, what I on mee should doe. Of speaking thus he scarce had made an ende, And taken vp the bloudie sword from ground, But he his bodie piers'd; and of redd bloud A gushing fountaine all the chamber fill'd. He staggred at the blowe, his face grew pale, And on a couche all feeble downe he fell, Swounding with anguish: deadly cold him tooke, As if his soule had then his lodging left. But he reuiu'd, and marking all our eies Bathed in teares, and how our breasts we beatt For pittie, anguish, and for bitter griefe, To see him plong'd in extreame wretchednes: He prai'd vs all to haste his lingr'ing death: But no man willing, each himselfe withdrew. Then fell he new to crie and vexe himselfe, Vntill a man from Cleopatra came, Who said from hir he had commaundement To bring him to hir to the monument. The poore soule at these words euen rapt with Ioy Knowing she liu'd, prai'd vs him to conuey Vnto his Ladie. Then vpon our armes We bare him to the Tombe, but entred not. For she, who feared captiue to be made, And that she should to Rome in triumph goe, Kept close the gate: but from a window high Cast downe a corde, wherin he was impackt. Then by hir womens helpt the corps she rais'd, And by strong armes into hir windowe drew. So pittifull a sight was neuer sene. Little and little Antonie was pull'd, Now breathing death: his beard was all vnkempt, His face and brest all bathed in his bloud. So hideous yet, and dieng as he was, His eies half-clos'd vppon the Queene he cast: Held vp his hands, and holpe himself to raise, But still with weakenes back his bodie fell. The miserable ladie with moist eies, With haire which careles on hir forhead hong, With brest which blowes had bloudilie benumb'd, With stooping head, and bodie down-ward bent, Enlast hir in the corde, and with all force This life-dead man couragiously vprais'de. The bloud with paine into hir face did flowe, Hir sinewes stiff, her selfe did breathles growe. The people which beneath in flocks beheld, Assisted her with gesture, speech, desire: Cri'de and incourag'd her, and in their soules Did sweate, and labor, no white lesse then shee. Who neuer tir'd in labor, held so long Helpt by hir women, and hir constant heart, That Antonie was drawne into the tombe, And ther (I thinke) of dead augments the summe. The Cittie all to teares and sighes is turn'd, To plaints and outcries horrible to heare: Men, women, children, hoary-headed age Do all pell mell in house and strete lament, Scratching their faces, tearing of their haire, Wringing their hands, and martyring their brests. Extreame their dole: and greater misery In sacked townes can hardlie euer be. Not if the fire had scal'de the highest towers: That all things were of force and murther full; That in the streets the bloud in riuers stream'd; That sonne his sire saw in his bosome slaine, The sire his sonne: the husband reft of breath In his wiues armes, who furious runnes to death. Now my brest wounded with their piteouse plaints I left their towne, and tooke with me this sworde, Which I tooke vp at what time Antonie Was from his chamber caried to the tombe: And brought it you, to make his death more plaine, And that therby my words may credite gaine.

Caes. Ah Gods what cruell happ! poore Antonie, Alas hast thou this sword so long time borne Against thy foe, that in the ende it should Of thee his Lord the cursed murthr'er be? O Death how I bewaile thee! we (alas!) So many warres haue ended, brothers, frends, Companions, coozens, equalls in estate: And must it now to kill thee be my fate?

Ag. Why trouble you your selfe with bootles griefe? For Antonie why spend you teares in vaine? Why darken you with dole your victorie? Me seemes your self your glorie do enuie. Enter the towne, giue thankes vnto the Gods.

Caes. I cannot but his tearefull chaunce lament, Although not I, but his owne pride the cause, And vnchaste loue of this AEgyptian.

Agr. But best we sought into the tombe to gett, Lest shee consume in this amazed case So much rich treasure, with which happelie Despaire in death may make hir feed the fire: Suffring the flames hir Iewells to deface, You to defraud, hir funerall to grace. Sende then to hir, and let some meane be vs'd With some deuise so holde hir still aliue, Some faire large promises: and let them marke Whither they may by some fine conning slight Enter the tombes.

Caesar. Let Proculeius goe, And fede with hope hir soule disconsolate. Assure hir so, that we may wholie gett Into our hands hir treasure and hir selfe. For this of all things most I doe desire To kepe hir safe vntill our going hence: That by hir presence beautified may be The glorious triumph Rome prepares for me.

Chorus of Romaine Souldiors.

Shall euer ciuile hate gnaw and deuour our state? Shall neuer we this blade, Our bloud hath bloudie made, Lay downe? these armes downe lay As robes we weare alway? But as from age to age, So passe from rage to rage? Our hands shall we not rest To bath in our owne brest? And shall thick in each land Our wretched trophees stand, To tell posteritie, What madd Impietie Our stonie stomakes ledd Against the place vs bredd? Then still must heauen view The plagues that vs pursue: And euery where descrie Heaps of vs scattred lie, Making the straunger plaines Fatt with our bleeding raines, Proud that on them their graue So manie legions haue. And with our fleshes still Neptune his fishes fill And dronke with bloud from blue The sea take blushing hue: As iuice of Tyrian shell, When clarified well To wolle of finest fields A purple glosse it yelds. But since the rule of Rome, To one mans hand is come, Who gouernes without mate Hir now vnited state, Late iointlie rulde by three Enuieng mutuallie, Whose triple yoke much woe On Latines necks did throwe: I hope the cause of iarre, And of this bloudie warre, And deadlie discord gone By what we last haue done: Our banks shall cherish now The branchie pale-hew'd bow Of Oliue, Pallas praise, In stede of barraine bayes. And that his temple dore, Which bloudie Mars before Held open, now at last Olde Ianus shall make fast: And rust the sword consume, And spoild of wauing plume, The vseles morion shall On crooke hang by the wall. At least if warre returne It shall not here soiourne, To kill vs with those armes Were forg'd for others harmes: But haue their pointes addrest, Against the Germaines brest, The Parthians fayned flight, The Biscaines martiall might. Olde Memorie doth there Painted on forhead weare Our Fathers praise: thence torne Our triumphes baies haue worne: Therby our matchles Rome Whilome of Shepeheards come Rais'd to this greatnes stands, The Queene of forraine lands. Which now euen seemes to face The heau'ns, her glories place: Nought resting vnder Skies That dares affront her eies. So that she needes but feare The weapons Ioue doth beare, Who angrie at one blowe May her quite ouerthrowe.



Act. 5.

Cleopatra. Euphron. Children of Cleopatra. Charmion. Eras.

Cleop.

O cruell Fortune! o accursed lott! O plaguy loue! o most detested brand! O wretched ioyes! o beauties miserable! O deadlie state! o deadly roialtie! O hatefull life! o Queene most lamentable! O Antonie by my fault buriable! O hellish worke of heau'n! alas! the wrath Of all the Gods at once on vs is falne. Vnhappie Queene! o would I in this world The wandring light of day had neuer sene? Alas! of mine the plague and poison I The crowne haue lost my ancestors me left, This Realme I haue to straungers subiect made, And robd my children of their heritage. Yet this is nought (alas!) vnto the price Of you deare husband, whome my snares entrap'd: Of you, whom I haue plagu'd, whom I haue made With bloudie hand a guest of mouldie Tombe: Of you, whome I destroid, of you, deare Lord, Whome I of Empire, honor, life haue spoil'd. O hurtfull woman! and can I yet liue, Yet longer liue in this Ghost-haunted tombe? Can I yet breathe! can yet in such annoy, Yet can my Soule within this bodie dwell? O Sisters you that spinne the thredes of death! O Styx! o Phlegethon! you brookes of hell! O Impes of Night!

Euph. Liue for your childrens sake: Let not your death of kingdome them depriue. Alas what shall they do? who will haue care? Who will preserue this royall race of yours? Who pittie take? euen now me seemes I see These little soules to seruile bondage falne, And borne in triumph.

Cl. Ah most miserable!

Euph. Their tender armes with cursed corde fast bound At their weake backs.

Cl. Ah Gods what pittie more!

Eph. Their seelie necks to ground with weaknesse bend.

Cl. Neuer on vs, good Gods, such mischiefe sende.

Euph. And pointed at with fingers as they go.

Cl. Rather a thousand deaths.

Euph. Lastly his knife Some cruell caytiue in their bloud embrue.

Cl. Ah my heart breaks. By shadie bankes of hell, By fieldes wheron the lonely Ghosts do treade, By my soule, and the soule of Antonie I you beseche, Euphron, of them haue care. Be their good Father, let your wisedome lett That they fall not into this Tyrants handes. Rather conduct them where their freezed locks Black AEthiopes to neighbour Sunne do shewe; On wauie Ocean at the waters will; On barraine cliffes of snowie Caucasus; To Tigers swift, to Lions, and to Beares; And rather, rather vnto euery coaste, To eu'rie land and sea: for nought I feare As rage of him, whose thirst no bloud can quench. Adieu deare children, children deare adieu: Good Isis you to place of safetie guide, Farre from our foes, where you your liues may leade In free estate deuoid of seruile dread. Remember not, my children, you were borne Of such a Princelie race: remember not So manie braue Kings which haue Egipt rul'de In right descent your ancestors haue bene: That this great Antonie your Father was, Hercules bloud, and more then he in praise. For your high courage such remembrance will, Seing your fall with burning rages fill. Who knowes if that your hands false Destinie The Scepters promis'd of imperiouse Rome, In stede of them shall crooked shepehookes beare, Needles or forkes, or guide the carte, or plough? Ah learne t' endure: your birth and high estate Forget, my babes, and bend to force of fate. Farwell, my babes, farwell, my hart is clos'de With pitie and paine, my self with death enclos'de, My breath doth faile. Farwell for euermore, Your Sire and me you shall see neuer more. Farwell swete care, farwell.

Chil. Madame Adieu.

Cl. Ah this voice killes me. Ah good Gods! I swounde. I can no more, I die.

Eras. Madame, alas! And will you yeld to woe? Ah speake to vs.

Eup. Come children.

Chil. We come.

Eup. Follow we our chaunce. The Gods shall guide vs.

Char. O too cruell lott! O too hard chaunce! Sister what shall we do, What shall we do, alas! if murthring darte Of death arriue while that in slumbring swound Half dead she lie with anguish ouergone?

Er. Her face is frozen.

Ch. Madame for Gods loue Leaue vs not thus: bidd vs yet first farwell. Alas! wepe ouer Antonie: Let not His bodie be without due rites entomb'de.

Cl. Ah, ah.

Char. Madame.

Cle. Ay me!

Cl. How fainte she is?

Cl. My Sisters, holde me vp. How wretched I, How cursed am! and was ther euer one By Fortunes hate into more dolours throwne? Ah, weeping Niobe, although thy hart Beholdes itselfe enwrap'd in causefull woe For thy dead children, that a senceless rocke With griefe become, on Sipylus thou stand'st In endles teares: yet didst thou neuer feele The weights of griefe that on my heart do lie. Thy Children thou, mine I poore soule haue lost, And lost their Father, more then them I waile, Lost this faire realme; yet me the heauens wrathe Into a Stone not yet transformed hath. Phaetons sisters, daughters of the Sunne, Which waile your brother falne into the streames Of stately Po: the Gods vpon the bankes Your bodies to banke-louing Alders turn'd. For me, I sigh, I ceasles wepe, and waile, And heauen pittiles laughes at my woe, Reuiues, renewes it still: and in the ende (Oh crueltie!) doth death for comfort lende. Die Cleopatra then, no longer stay From Antonie, who thee at Styx attends: Goe ioine thy Ghost with his, and sobbe no more Without his loue within these tombes enclos'd.

Eras. Alas! yet let vs wepe, lest sodaine death From him our teares, and those last duties take Vnto his tombe we owe. Ch. Ah let vs wepe While moisture lasts, then die before his feete.

Cl. who furnish will mine eies with streaming teares My boiling anguish worthilie to waile, Waile thee Antonie, Antonie my heart? Alas, how much I weeping liquor want! Yet haue mine eies quite drawne their Conduits drie By long beweeping my disastred harmes. Now reason is that from my side they sucke First vitall moisture, then the vitall bloud. Then let the bloud from my sad eies out flowe, And smoking yet with thine in mixture growe. Moist it, and heate it newe, and neuer stopp, All watring thee, while yet remaines one dropp.

Cha. Antonie take our teares: this is the last Of all the duties we to thee can yelde, Before we die.

Er. These sacred obsequies Take Antony, and take them in good parte.

Cl. O Goddesse thou whom Cyprus doth adore, Venus of Paphos, bent to worke vs harme For olde Iulus broode, if thou take care Of Caesar, why of vs tak'st thou no care? Antonie did descend, as well as he, From thine own Sonne by long enchained line: And might haue rul'd by one and self same fate, True Troian bloud, the statelie Romain state. Antonie, poore Antonie, my deare soule, Now but a blocke, the bootie of a tombe, Thy life, thy heate is lost, thy coullor gone, And hideous palenes on thy face hath seaz'd. Thy eies, two Sunnes, the lodging place of loue, Which yet for tents to warlike Mars did serue, Lock'd vp in lidds (as faire daies cherefull light Which darknesse flies) do winking hide in night. Antonie by our true loues I thee beseche, And by our hearts swete sparks haue sett on fire, Our holy mariage, and the tender ruthe Of our deare babes, knot of our amitie: My dolefull voice thy eare let entertaine, And take me with thee to the hellish plaine, Thy wife, thy frend: heare Antonie, o heare My sobbing sighes, if here thou be, or there. Liued thus long, the winged race of yeares Ended I haue as Destinie decreed, Flourish'd and raign'd, and taken iust reuenge Of him who me both hated and despisde. Happie, alas too happie! if of Rome Only the fleete had hither neuer come. And now of me an Image great shall goe Vnder the earth to bury there my woe. What say I? where am I? o Cleopatra, Poore Cleopatra, griefe thy reason reaues. No, no, most happie in this happles case, To die with thee, and dieng thee embrace: My bodie ioynde with thine, my mouth with thine, My mouth, whose moisture burning sighes haue dried: To be in one selfe tombe, and one selfe chest, And wrapt with thee in one selfe sheete to rest. The sharpest torment in my heart I feele Is that I staie from thee, my heart, this while. Die will I straight now, now streight will I die, And streight with thee a wandring shade will be, Vnder the Cypres trees thou haunt'st alone, Where brookes of hell do falling seeme to mone. But yet I stay, and yet thee ouerliue, That ere I die due rites I may thee giue. A thousand sobbes I from my brest will teare, With thousand plaints thy funeralles adorne: My haire shall serue for thy oblations, My boiling teares for thy effusions, Mine eies thy fire: for out of them the flame (Which burnt thy heart on me enamour'd) came. Wepe my companions, wepe, and from your eies Raine downe on him of teares a brinish streame. Mine can no more, consumed by the coales Which from my breast, as from a furnace, rise. Martir your breasts with multiplied blowes, With violent hands teare of your hanging haire, Outrage your face: alas! why should we seeke (Since now we die) our beawties more to kepe? I spent in teares, not able more to spende, But kisse him now, what rests me more to doe? Then lett me kisse you, you faire eies, my light, Front seate of honor, face most fierce, most faire! O neck, o armes, o hands, o breast where death (Oh mischief) comes to choake vp vitall breath. A thousand kisses, thousand thousand more Let you my mouth for honors farewell giue: That in this office weake my limmes may growe, Fainting on you, and fourth my soule may flowe.



At Ramsburie. 26. of Nouember.

1590.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

ERRATA

Discourse

C2v so gredelie it seekes to murther them. _formatting ambiguous: short line, but following word not indented_ C3 not withdrawen _no space in printed text_ C3v We folow solitarines, to flie carefulnes. _text reads "carefulues"_ C4 applied to mans naturall disposition _text reads "to / to" at line break_ D and this feeles the euill present _text unchanged: error for "thus"?_ this great and incurable disease of olde age _text reads "iucurable"_ Dv what good I pray can hee haue but onlie _text reads "bnt"_ D2v of the paines we felt at our birth? _question mark printed upside-down)

Antonius

Spelling and capitalization are unchanged. Forms such as "Phaebus" and "Phaenician" (for "Phoebus" and "Phoenician") are used consistently; since names are in Roman type, there is no chance of error or ambiguity.

F2v Yelded _Pelusium_ on this Countries shore _text reads "_Pelusuim_"_ F3v To see at once so many Romanes there _text reads "Komanes"_ F4 Betraies thy loue, thy life alas! betraies _text reads "alas!)"_ Gv (As curse may blessing haue) _text reads ") As"_ G2v Fi'ring a brand _text unchanged_ H No humain force can them withstand, but death. _text reads "bnt"_ Hv _Er._ Feare of a woman troubled so his sprite? _comma for period_ H2 If we therin sometimes some faultes commit _no space in printed text_ Before they be in this our worlde borne: _text reads "wordle"_ H3 That giue them vp to aduersaries handes _text reads "adnersaries"_ H3v His legions led to drinke _Euphrates_ streames _text reads "legious"_ _Ch._ Our first affection to our selfe is due. _second "e" in "selfe" invisible_ H4 Yet if his harme by yours redresse might haue, _punctuation unchanged_ H4v And high st ate: _text unchanged: error for "high estate"?_ I2 The Allablaster couering of hir face _common variant spelling_ Yet this is nothing th'e'nchaunting skilles _text unchanged_ I4v Which of my greatnes greatest good receiu'd _text reads "Wbich"_ _Lu._ So long time you her constant loue haue tri'de. _text reads "Li."_ K3 Fortune may chaunge againe, _punctuation unchanged_ K4v She doth frequent _Ballonas_ bloudie trade: _text unchanged: normal spelling "Bellona" occurs later_ Mv _Agr._ What? Robbing his owne countrie of her due _flyspeck or ambiguous punctuation at end of line_ M3 _Ag._ What sodaine chaunce thee towards vs hath brought? _text reads "towar ds"_ M3v Accuse the Queene, himselfe of hir lament _text reads "Qneene"_ M4 [consecutive lines] _Dir._ What dost thou more attend? _punctuation at end of line unclear_ Ah _Antonie_! why dost thou death deferre? _question mark unclear_ Nv _Agr._ But best we sought into the tombe to gett _comma for period_ N2 The glorious triumph _Rome_ prepares for me._ _invisible period_ Shall ever civile hate _text reads "bate"_ N3 The _Parthians_ fayned flight, _text reads "fligbt"_ Therby our matchles _Rome_ _letter "m" in "Rome" italicized_ O2v That in this office weake my limmes may growe, _initial "T" in "that" not italicized_