ANTONY & CLEOPATRA. Sidney Lee. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Sidney Lee
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isbn: 9788027236695
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CLEOPATRA.

       Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure

       In aught an eunuch has; ‘tis well for thee

       That, being unseminar’d, thy freer thoughts

       May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?

       MARDIAN.

       Yes, gracious madam.

       CLEOPATRA.

       Indeed!

       MARDIAN.

       Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing

       But what indeed is honest to be done:

       Yet have I fierce affections, and think

       What Venus did with Mars.

       CLEOPATRA.

       O Charmian,

       Where think’st thou he is now? Stands he or sits he?

       Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?

       O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!

       Do bravely, horse! for wott’st thou whom thou mov’st?

       The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm

       And burgonet of men.—He’s speaking now,

       Or murmuring ‘Where’s my serpent of old Nile?’

       For so he calls me.—Now I feed myself

       With most delicious poison:—think on me,

       That am with Phoebus’ amorous pinches black,

       And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar,

       When thou wast here above the ground I was

       A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey

       Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow;

       There would he anchor his aspect and die

       With looking on his life.

       [Enter ALEXAS.]

       ALEXAS.

       Sovereign of Egypt, hail!

       CLEOPATRA.

       How much unlike art thou Mark Antony!

       Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath

       With his tinct gilded thee.—

       How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?

       ALEXAS.

       Last thing he did, dear queen,

       He kiss’d,—the last of many doubled kisses,—

       This orient pearl: his speech sticks in my heart.

       CLEOPATRA.

       Mine ear must pluck it thence.

       ALEXAS.

       ‘Good friend,’ quoth he

       ‘Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends

       This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot,

       To mend the petty present, I will piece

       Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the east,

       Say thou, shall call her mistress.’ So he nodded,

       And soberly did mount an arm-girt steed,

       Who neigh’d so high that what I would have spoke

       Was beastly dumb’d by him.

       CLEOPATRA.

       What, was he sad or merry?

       ALEXAS.

       Like to the time o’ the year between the extremes

       Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry.

       CLEOPATRA.

       O well-divided disposition!—Note him,

       Note him, good Charmian; ‘tis the man; but note him:

       He was not sad,—for he would shine on those

       That make their looks by his; he was not merry,—

       Which seem’d to tell them his remembrance lay

       In Egypt with his joy; but between both:

       O heavenly mingle!—Be’st thou sad or merry,

       The violence of either thee becomes,

       So does it no man else.—Mett’st thou my posts?

       ALEXAS.

       Ay, madam, twenty several messengers.

       Why do you send so thick?

       CLEOPATRA.

       Who’s born that day

       When I forget to send to Antony

       Shall die a beggar.—Ink and paper, Charmian.—

       Welcome, my good Alexas.—Did I, Charmian,

       Ever love Caesar so?

       CHARMIAN.

       O that brave Caesar!

       CLEOPATRA.

       Be chok’d with such another emphasis!

       Say ‘the brave Antony.’

       CHARMIAN.

       The valiant Caesar!

       CLEOPATRA.

       By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth

       If thou with Caesar paragon again

       My man of men.

       CHARMIAN.

       By your most gracious pardon,

       I sing but after you.

       CLEOPATRA.

       My salad days,

       When I was green in judgment:—cold in blood,

       To say as I said then!—But come, away;

       Get me ink and paper: he shall have every day

       A several greeting,

       Or I’ll unpeople Egypt.

       [Exeunt.]

       Table of Contents

      SCENE I. Messina. A Room in POMPEY’S house.

       [Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS.]

       POMPEY.

       If the great gods be just, they shall assist

       The deeds of justest men.

       MENECRATES.

       Know, worthy Pompey,

       That what they do delay they not deny.

       POMPEY.

       Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays

       The thing we sue for.

       MENECRATES.

       We, ignorant of ourselves,

       Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers

       Deny us for our good; so find we profit

       By losing of our prayers.

       POMPEY.

       I shall do well;

       The people love me, and the sea is mine;

       My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope

       Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony

       In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make

       No wars without doors: Caesar gets money where

       He loses