University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Cleopatra and Thyræus enter, attended by Alexas, Charmian, Iras, &c.
Cleo.
Who are you, sir?

Thyr.
Thyræus, lady, a chief counsellor
And confident of Cæsar's—Cæsar prays you
To take no wakeful thought for what may fall,
In such conflictions. He himself hath taken
To his own breast the care of Cleopatra.

Cleo.
A courtesy unlook'd for!

Thyr.
For your high person, crown, and dignity,
He holds them as things holy, as a property
Pertaining to the gods.

Cleo.
Unwonted bounty!

Thyr.
To Egypt, and to all you have, elsewhere,
Of royal tenantry, 'tis Cæsar's will
To pile, and not to lessen by the gripe
Of mean deduction.

Cleo.
He speaks, and grants, like one, who is to be
The universal landlord.—Say to Cæsar,
That, in return for this rich world, which I
Took from my Antony and gave to him,
My sole petition is, that he inflict not
The heavy penance of his pique to me,
Upon my innocent people!

Thyr.
So please your highness,
Order for this already is announced
Throughout our hosts—Permit me the fair grace,
To seal the honours of my deputation
Upon this peerless wax!—

Cleo.
Sir—you mistake—this is your Cæsar's hand;
It turn'd the rudder for him!

[Kisses her right hand while Antony enters.
Ant.
Favours!—by Jove, that thunders!—
Who art thou fellow?

Thyr.
One, who does perform
The biddings of the fullest man on earth.

Ant.
Approach there!—
[To Servants without.
Ah, you kite!—Now, gods and dæmons!
Authority melts from me of late—When I cried, hoa!
Like racers to the goal, kings would start forth
And cry, your will?—Have ye no ears?—
I am Antony yet.—Take hence this jack, and whip him!

[Servants enter.
Thyr.
Whip me, my lord?

Ant.
Moon and stars!—whip him.
Were it twenty of the greatest tributaries
That do acknowledge Cæsar, should I find them
So saucy with the hand of—she there!—what's her name,
Since she was Cleopatra?—Whip him, fellows!
Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face,
And whine for mercy—Take him hence!

Thyr.
Sir, sir, you play with stings—I am patrician;
And, in my deputation, bear the person
And weight of Cæsar.

Ant.
Give the gods a sacrifice!
Whip the boy Cæsar in him!—being whipt,
Bring him again—This jack of Cæsar's shall
Bear us an errand to him.—Drag him away!—

[Exeunt Servants with Thyræus.
Cleo.
Now—what's the matter?—
A spice of the old humour?—

Ant.
Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Italy?
Forborn the getting of a Roman issue,
And by a gem of women; to be abused
By one, who looks on feeders?

Cleo.
O!—is it come to this?

Ant.
To let a fellow, that will take rewards,
And cry heaven quit you, be familiar with
My playfellow, your hand!—O, that I were
Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar
The horned herd—for I have savage cause!
Servant enters with Thyræus.
What, is he whipt?

Serv.
Soundly, my lord.

Ant.
Cried he, and begg'd a pardon?

Serv.
He did ask favour.

Ant.
Henceforth, fellow,
The white hand of a lady fever thee!
Shake to look on it!—
Hence with thy shame—Begone!—

[Exit Thyræus.
Cleo.
Have you done yet?

Ant.
To flatter Cæsar, would you mingle eyes,
With one who doffs his sandals?

Cleo.
Not know me, yet?

Ant.
Cold-hearted tow'rd me!

Cleo.
Ah, dear, if I be so,
Turn, ye stern ministers, my blood to hail,
And strike my heart with death!—This, this vile hand
Was that I gave him, as a thing unvalued,
For having turn'd the rudder from my Antony.

Alexas.
She told him so.

Ant.
No more than so?—I know not why, of late,
This yestiness of temper comes upon me,—
I have wrong'd you, love!—I shame to look upon you!
Withdraw a while—leave me—I pray you leave me,
Until I have admonish'd my wrought spirit,
To more of constancy!

[Exit Cleopatra, &c.