David Reed
The Tragedie of Anthonie, and Cleopatra
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Demetrius and Philo.
Philo. Nay, but this dotage of our Generals
Ore-flowes the measure: those his goodly eyes
That o're the Files and Musters of the Warre,
Haue glow'd like plated Mars:
Now bend, now turne
The Office and Deuotion of their view
Vpon a Tawny Front. His Captaines heart,
Which in the scuffles of great Fights hath burst
The Buckles on his brest, reneages all temper,
And is become the Bellowes and the Fan
To coole a Gypsies Lust.
Flourish. Enter Anthony, Cleopatra, her Ladies, the Traine, withEunuchsfanning her.
Looke where they come:
Take but good note, and you shall see in him
(The triple Pillar of the world) transform'd
Into a Strumpets Foole. Behold and see
Cleo. If it be Loue indeed, tell me how much
Ant. There's beggery in the loue that can be reckon'd
Cleo. Ile set a bourne how farre to be belou'd
Ant. Then must thou needes finde out new Heauen,
new Earth.
Enter a Messenger.
Mes. Newes (my good Lord) from Rome
Ant. Grates me, the summe
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 commonLyar, who t