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A NEW VARIORUM EDITION
OP
Shakespeare
EDITED BY
HORACE HOWARD FURNESS
The Tragedie of
Anthonie, and Cleopatra
PHILADELPHIA J. B. UPPINCOTT COMPANY
LONDON : s HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN
1907
498x79
Copyright, 1907, by H. H. Furnbss
.J'
ELICmOTYWD IV UPnN0OTT*« MEM
WCSTOOTT A THOMMN, PHILAOA. PHILAOA.
IN MEMORIAM
PREFACE
It must be a source of gratification to all lovers of Shakespeare that the discussion in regard to the superiority of this or that Text is gradually declining, and that what, in the time of our forebears, was a furious ebullition, is now subsiding into a gentle simmer, whereof the murmur is soothing rather than exciting. It must be acknowledged, however, that the flames burned about certain plays more fiercely than about others. And it was those 'stolne and surreptitious copies,' the Quartos, that supplied the fuel. Undoubtedly, the Quartos have at times yielded valuable assistance, — notably in Hamlet and in Richard the Third, — more emphatically, however, in supplying deficiencies than in elucidating the Text. As to the Text, it is doubtflil that any very pro- nounced superiority can be observed in those plays whereof we have Quartos over those whereof we have none. There have been times, I confess, in this present play, when I have been tempted to sigh for a Quarto ; but the sigh has been stifled by the reflection that, in all probability, instead of one point of discussion, we should then have sev- eral points, and that there would always be disputants ready to cast up to the Quarto the stigma of its birth and refuse to accept its testimony. Wherefore, in scanning the whole horizon, I have concluded that man- kind is, in general, happier under the grey authority of the Folio, and of the Folio alone, which is nearer to Shakespeare than a stolen Quarto, and that
' Calm pleasures there abide, majestic pains. '
In this present play of Anthony and Cleopatra it is the Folio that, I must say happily, furnishes our sole Text. There is, to be sure, an entry in the Stationers^ Registers which warrants the supposition that a Quarto, if it did not actually appear, was at least in contemplation. There are two entries on the 20th of May, 1608, and they are as follows : *
* Statumer^ Registers^ Arb€r*s Reprint, vol. iii, p. 378.
vi PREFACE
* Edward Blpunt Entred for his copie vnder the andes of Sir
George Buck knight and Master Warden Seton A booke called. The booke of Pericles prynce of Tyre yj<*
Edward Blunt Entred also for his copie by the lyke Aucthoritie.
A booke Called Anthony, and Cleopatra . . yj^*
Shakespeare's name is not mentioned ; these entries are supposed, however, to refer to \^% Plays. In neither case was the 'booke/ so far as we know, in print. Edward Blount did not publish Pericles by itself in that year, nor in any year; it was printed by Henry Gosson in 1609. And Anthony and Cleopatra was not printed sepa- rately, so &r as we know, by anybody in any year. There still remains the possibility that it was printed ; and it may even yet be discovered, imder dust and grime, to become the prize of unscholarly wealth.
For the present play the sole Text that is come down to us is, therefore, that of the Folio of 1623, which, in the following pages, is reproduced with all the fidelity which unwearied pains can bestow.
It is not generally realised, I think, to what an extent this First Folio survives in all our texts, and how little, how very little, it varies, save in spelling and in stage-directions, from the most popular texts of the present day. We have heard so much of the ' corruption of the old * texts,' of the labour expended, and of the eminent critical ability demanded, to render them intelligible, that these original texts are come to be regarded as sealed books to all but the most learned eyes ; and should they be divested of the emendations of the critics, it would be labour lost to attempt to understand them. It may be, perhap>s, worth the while to examine how far editors and critics have amended Shake- speare's language so as to fit it for our comprehension. The present is the longest of Shakespeare's Plays, — it lacks but thirty-six lines of four thousand.* Taking as a guide the Cambridge Shakespeare ^ edited by Dr W. Aldis Wright, which is accepted the world over as the standard modernised Text, and examining its Footnotes^ we shall find that, after omitting stage-directions, metrical divisions of lines, mere pimctuation, and immoment changes of spelling, the original text of this play in the Four Folios has been set aside and emendations by editors or critics adopted in sixty instances.f I am aware that there is not in this calculation the nice accuracy of an astronomical problem, in that the omission of punctuation, which at times makes the difference between sense and nonsense, may be censured as ill-advised ; yet, mak-
* The ntunber is given as 3964 on p. 354, Skakipere Society's Transactions for 1874. t This list is giren in the Appendix^ p. 598.
PREFACE vii
ing all allowances, nay, doubling sixty and calling it a hundred and twenty, there still remain three thousand eight hundred and odd lines of this play which come to us exactly as Shakespeare's printers have trans- mitted them, excepting a difference in spelling which would not trouble a school-boy withal. Furthermore, there is to be learned from this a second lesson, to be deeply conned by all who would airily undertake now-a-da)rs to * amend Shakespeare.' With the exception of a con- version by Dyce of a ' how ! ' into a ho / ; of a change by Steevens of
* was ' into wast; of a change by Malone of a long f into an f, — with the exception of these few alterations, I repeat, there has not been admitted into this standard Text of the Cambridge Edition a single emendation of a date later than Dr Johnson's edition in 1765. Be it noted, in passing, that of these sixty emendations that have taken their place in the Text, Theobald contributed sixteen, — nearly twice as many as those contributed by Rowe, who stands next in rank, with nine.
From what has just been said, it is, I think, manifest that the Text of the First Folio, with its three successors, is, in the present play, even better than we should expect, in view of the times and circumstances in which it was printed. Nay, it may be deemed especially good when we consider the terse, condensed style into which Shakespeare's thoughts seem to solidify at impassioned moments. Of course, there are here and there inexplicable words and phrases, mistakes of the eye and ear on the part of the compositors ; but then, is there a play of Shakespeare where these are not? They are to be expected when an author has never seen the proof-sheets. We should be grateful that there are not more. And inasmuch as these textual puzzles are, gener- ally, single words, such as * Arme-gaunt,* * 'ribaudred,' f etc., which hardly affect the sense, and would pass unheeded were they heard from the stage, we need not be greatly cast down when they occur. In sooth, I think that they supply a certain charm ; they give the imagination play. What an imposing grandeur is imparted to Anthony's deport- ment when we learn that ' he soberly did mount an arme-gaunt steede ' ! What image of panoplied gauntness is there here lacking ? And that Anthony could ' soberly ' mount this hippogriff betokens a serenity of mind that of itself ranks him with the gods. Ah, no ; give me Caliban's
* scammels,' and Anthony's * arme-gaunt steede. ' If arm-gaunt be not the true word, I think Shakespeare's Shade must be grateful to the printers for having supplied its place with one so suggestive.
In connection with the subject of the Text, I trust that I may be pardoned for here mentioning a matter that is, in the main, personal.
* Act I, sc V, line 56. f ^^^ 111» ^' *> ^i*** '7«
viii PREFACE
In the Preface to Lovers Labour* s Lost I set forth at some length the reasons for my belief that the compositors followed the voice of a reader, and closed my remarks with the assertion that ' if this surmise ' of mine be a fact, it is &tal to emendations founded on the ductus ' litterarum, ' For this assertion I was gently taken to task by a critic,* who remarked that I seemed * to forget that the compositor's reader,
* if not the compositor himself, must still have used his eyes, and so ' must have been liable to the same kind of mistake as was made at ' times by the compositor when he set directly from written copy.' I now wish to state that, in this particular regard, of the ductus litterarum^ my critic is entirely right, and that I was entirely wrong. Be it under- stood that my faith remains unshaken in the belief that certain misprints are due to the misapprehension by the compositor of the words uttered by his reader. That there are many of these misprints has long been recognized; Malone attributed them to transcribers, Steevens sur- mised that they were possibly due to transcriptions of the plays taken down by shorthand during a performance. All that I contend for is that they are due to the practice of reading the copy aloud to the compositor, — a practice which we now know obtained in early print- ing offices. The following is a List of some of these errors of the ear in the present play. The Text of the First Folio reads :
* To such whose places vnder vs.* for * To such whose ^/ace is imder us.'
I, ii, 219.
* Whose with him.* " *Who *s with him.' I, iii, 5.
* vouchsafe to think. ' " ^ vouchsafed to think,* I, iv, 10.
* The neere Lust-wearied. ' " * The ne* er lust- wearied. ' II, i, 48.
* shall well greet together. ' " * shall well^^^ together. ' II, i, 50.
* your proofe were well deserued. * *« ' your reproqfwere well deserved. '
II, ii, 141.
* The other wayes a Mars.* " 'The other way he*s a Mars.'
II, V, 148.
* your so branchlesse. ' " ^ yours so branchlesse. ' III, iv, 2 7. 'You reconciler.' " ' K7»r reconciler. * III, iv, 34.
* His Sonnes hither proclaimed. ' " * His sonnes he there proclaimed. '
III, vi, 14. 'Thantomad: " * The Antoniad: III, x, 6.
* thou should'st stowe me after. ' " 'thou should* st tow me after.'
Ill, xi, 64. 'Mine Nightingale.' " ^ My Nightingale.' IV, viii, 24.
' A toward Cittadell. ' " ' A towered CittadeU. ' IV, xiv, 6.
* The Atlantic Monthly^ February, 1905, p. 283.
PREFA CE IX
* Vnarme Eros.' for ^ Unarm me Eros.' IV, xiv, 45.
* No more but in a Woman.' " 'No more hut e^en a Woman.'
IV, XV, 93.
* I am sure mine Nailes.' " ' I am sure my Nailes.* V, ii, 268.
We are at times inclined to criticise our German brothers for trans- lating the names, occasionally historic, which Shakespeare has given to his characters. Thus, in German translations, ' Hotspur ' becomes Heissspom^ * Mistress Quickly ' appears as Frau Hurtig^ and * Juliet ' is styled Julia^ and so forth. But it appears that this criticism should cease, or at least be measurably abated. For do not we, ourselves, here in Anthony and Cleopatra, fall imder the same condemnation? In the Twelfth Scene of the Third Act Caesar addresses by name one of his followers, 'Thidias,' and bids him go to Cleopatra and try by bribery to win her from Anthony. In the next Scene the stage- direc- tion reads ^ Enter Thidias.' He has his interview, and, during it, Cleopatra asks him his name. 'My name,' he replies, 'is Thidias.' Anthony enters, and in his ungovernable fury at the sight of Caesar's ambassador kissing Cleopatra's hand, orders a servant to tug him away to be whipt, and the stage-direction follows, ^Exeunt with Thidius.' When, after the whipping, the servant brings back the ambassador, the stage-direction reads, * Enter a Servant with Thidias ' ; and at the conclusion of the interview we have ^ Exit Thid.' It is hardly possi- ble to have a name more clearly indicated ; there is no misspelling, but the name is consistently, and clearly, and uniformly spelt * Thidias,' with one trifling variation, Thidius, And yet Theobald as consist- ently, as clearly, and as uniformly changed it to Thyreusf and has been herein followed by every editor since his day. Shakespeare in his nomenclature was, as in all things else, exquisite ; the smoothness or the befitting harshness of his names is a quality which differentiates him from other dramatists of his time. For certain reasons (did he ever do anything without reason?) he chose the name 'Thidias.' For a certain reason Theobald, and every modem editor acquiescing, changes 'Thidias' to Thyreus. Theobald's reason, forsooth, was that he found in North's translation of Plutarch the name of Caesar's ambassador to be Thyreus, and, therefore, concluding that Shake- speare had blundered, incontinendy converted Shakespeare's own chosen name ' Thidias ' into Thyreus,
A similar treatment has been dealt to ' Camidius,' whose name has been changed to Canidius. Here, however, the liberty is not so fla- giant. The spelling in the Folio is not quite as uniform as it is in the case of ' Thidias ' ; it is in one instance spelt ' Camidias ' ^ and in
* Act III, sc. Tu, line 24.
X PREFACE
another * Camindios.' * * Camidius ' might possibly have been Camd- ius misread or misheard. But no such excuse can be urged for Thyreus. A moral to be drawn from such liberties with the Text is that possibly we may scrutinize too closely the sources whence Shake- speare drew his plots, especially in the Historical Flays, We learn too much, and bring our knowledge to the interpretation of the plays. It is possible that, thus biased, our judgement becomes warped, and we read into a character somewhat that Shakespeare may not, possibly, have intended. It seems to me that we should accept these plajTS with our mind the proverbial tabula rasa^ whence every previous record has been wiped away, and all the light we have comes, untinted, direct from Shakespeare. In the present play I think two characters, at least, have suffered from this extrinsic knowledge on our part : Caesar is one and Cleopatra, — ^yes, even Cleopatra, — is another. All that Caesar says or does we regard as said or done by the Caesar whom we have known aforetime. We shut our eyes to noble traits which Shakespeare offers us, and open them only on the crafty image of our school-days. Throughout the play, I believe Shakespeare intends us to accept Caesar's love for Anthony as perfectly sincere and very deep-seated. Witness the Scene where Caesar learns of Anthony's personal challenge and of his brutal conduct in having Caesar's own ambassador most disgracefully whipt. With justifiable heat Caesar breaks out, and calls Anthony ' that old RufEan ' ; but as he leaves, after giving instructions for the disposition of his army, a flood of mem- ories of old days comes over him, recalling the echoes of Anthony's sole voice which drove Julius Caesar's murderers in a mad gallop from Rome, and when Anthony had been to him as a protecting elder brother, — and with ineffable pity he sighs forth ' Poor Anthony ! ' That man is not to be envied who can read this without emotion. From no cold, calculating heart did that bitter sigh break forth. Even Caesar's affec- tion for his ' dearest sister,' as he names her, has been questioned ; and the very fervour of his expressions of love, as she stands pitifully before him after she has been deserted by Anthony, has been cast up to him as a proof of his insincerity. When, as Anthony's bride, Octavia bade farewell to her brother, all the number of the stars had been invoked to give light to her &ir way. She returns a solitary, unattended, deserted wife. If ever there were a time when a brother should lavish on a sister all the treasure of his fondest love, surely it was then. What end could be gained in such an hour by * insincerity * ? Would not Octavia have detected an insincere ring in her brother's words instantly ?
♦ Act IV, sc. vi, line 2a
PRE FA CE xi
On Cassar's first appearance, when Shakespeare so frequently gives us the key to a character, he rehearses with bitterness all Anthony's misdoings in Egypt, and yet before the Scene closes, as though to show how genuinely he loved Anthony, and how true he was to his own fine nature, he recalls with fervour what a grand, noble soldier Anthony was, what bitter hardships he had borne upon the march, and while sharing the lowest lot of the commonest of the host, had even drank the gilded puddle that beasts would cough at. And with what anguish wrung from his heart of heart does Caesar hear of Anthony's death ! His first words are almost of self-reproach, as if he himself had partly been the cause, * Oh, Anthony, I have followed thee to this ! ' and then, with * tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,' he calls him
* my Brother, my Competitor ' In top of all design, my mate in empire,
* Friend and Companion in the front of War,
* The Arm of mine own Body, and the Heart ' Where mine his thoughts did kindle.'
And yet we are told that this man was cold, crafty, and self-seeking, and that these words were uttered for effect ! Much learning has made us mad !
Moreover, does it not injure the tragedy as a work of art that the Power, representing Justice, which is to crush Anthony should be of a character no more elevated than Anthony's own ? Anthony deserved to be crushed ; he was false to what he knew to be right. But should not the Power that punishes him be more exalted than he ? * He who *the sword of Heaven would bear Should be as holy as severe.' A man who is pure craft and selfishness ought not to be entrusted with the sword of Heaven.
Even with more reason than in Caesar's character, is it necessary that we should accept Cleopatra, at Shakespeare's hands, with minds unbiased by history. We should know no more of her than what we hear on the stage. Of her past, of her salad days, we should know nothing but what we are told. The first words that she and Anthony utter tell of boundless, illimitable love, and this love is maintained to the last throb of life in each of them. Although Cleopatra then says that she'll set a bourne how far to be beloved, and Anthony replies that then she must needs find out a new heaven and a new earth, yet it is not Anthony, but Cleopatra, who sets no bourne to it. Twice Anthony touches this bourne, and twice Cleopatra surmounts and spurns it. Never does Cleopatra waver in her wild and passionate love for Anthony. Even in the Scene with Caesar's ambassador, Thidias, who comes to Cleo- patra with overtures of peace and favour on condition that she will give
xii PREFA CE
up Anthony, we knowing ones, crammed with history as pigeons are with peas, tip each other the wink and lay our fingers on our shrewd noses at Cleopatra's evident treachery when she sends word that she kisses Csesar's conquering hand, and kneels, with her crown, at his feet. But those who read the Queen only by the light thrown by Shakespeare, see clearly enough that at this lowest ebb of Anthony's fortunes this was the only course she could prudently take ; to gain time for him she must temporise with Caesar. And when Anthony surprises Thidias kissing her hand and rages ' like a thousand hurricanes,' she patiently waits imtil the tumult of the earth and skies abates, and then calmly asks,
* Not know me yet ? ' Are we blind that we do not see that Shake- speare here means to show that Cleopatra has been throughout as true as steel to Anthony, ' her mailed Captain,' and that her protest that, if she be cold-hearted toward him, let heaven * the next Caesarion smite,' is as sincere as it is tender and pathetic. From this deep, enduring, passionate love she never swerves, and in the very last moments of life she calls to Anthony, * Husband^ I come,' thus sanctifying her love by the holiest of bonds. In accepting her right to claim this relationship our hearts bow down before Shakespeare, not Plutarch. In this expression I find the lofliest note in the tragedy. Amid the * infinite variety ' which was hers, the love for Anthony burned with the unflick- ering flame of wifely devotion.
It is not until nigh the close that we are shown, in the * dream ' which Cleopatra told to Dolabella, the qualities of the god-like Anthony which had won and kept the Eg)rptian Queen's heart. On the other hand, the fascination wherewith Cleopatra enslaved Anthony is revealed to us early in the play, and is the key-note of her character. Enobarbus (who herein fulfills the office of a Greek Chorus, like the Fool in Lear, and, to a lesser degree, Feste in Twelfth Night) says of Cleopatra, in words that are become imbedded in the language,
* Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale *Her infinite variety.'
It is the irresistible potency of this infinite variety which, in the very first Scene, Anthony avows, when he exclaims,
* Fie wrangling queen ;
* Whom everything becomes, to chide, to laugh,
* To weep ; whose every passion fully strives *To make itself, in thee, fair and admired.'
When Mrs Jameson remarks that Anthony's love for Cleopatra is that * of a man declined in years for a woman very much younger than
* himself,' was it necessary to restrict the in&tuation to declining years ? Does manhood, however long its span, hold a single year when subjec-
PREFACE xiii
tion to the highest earthly ideal is not most welcome, and when the privilege would not be eagerly claimed, of echoing Anthony's
' O'er my spirit ' The full supremacy thou knew'st ; and that ' Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods ' Command me ' ?
One Scene there is, however, which must, I think, severely grate every reader. It is the Scene, — the last of all, — where Cleopatra ^Is into a towering rage with her Treasurer, Seleucus, for his honesty in refusing to countenance the dishonesty of her brief of all she is possessed of, in money, plate, and jewels. That she should descend to low, unqueenly dishonesty is sordid enough, but that she should attempt, while showering opprobrious epithets on her Treasiurer, to scratch out his very eyes with her nails is a lower depth to which no admiration, however ardent, can follow her. Of course, ingenuity has been taxed to find excuses for her. We accept her own feeble attempts at apology, and sadly acknowledge, the while, that it is the last flickering of her tempestuous, ungovemed temper which once more flames up, through the 'ashes of her chance,' before it dies down for ever, — and the excuse is inadequate enough.
It was reserved to Adolf Stahr, the learned German historian of Cleopatra, so to interpret this Scene as to convert our humiliation into approval. Be it remembered that Cleopatra's last words, as Anthony's dead body is borne away, are
* Ah, women, women ! Come we have no friend ' But resolution, and the briefest end ! *
And from this resolution to compass the briefest end, she never for one minute departs. Before she could even begin her plans she was taken prisoner, and her scheme for procuring an asp demanded the closest secrecy. What she had most to fear was that Caesar should get some inkling of her design. It was, therefore, of the very highest importance that Caesar's mind should be utterly disabused of any suspicion of her suicidal intent, and that, instead thereof, he should be firmly con- vinced, not only that she intended to live, but that she was becom- ing reconciled to the thought of going to Rome. To give Caesar a list of her possessions was obligatory ; but what proof that she intended to live could Caesar have greater than the withholding, from her list, treasure sufficient to maintain her hereafler in regal state ? This whole Scene, then, with Seleucus was pre-arranged in order to deceive Caesar. The rage, the fury, the virago were all assumed. One exquisite touch there is which must have extinguished, in Caesar's mind, the last spark
xiv PREFACE
of suspicion that she intended to destroy herself. In pleading her excuse for thus retaining some of her treasiure, she slights to the utter- most its value, calling it ' immoment toys,* * lady trifles,* etc., and then with infinite cunning she refers to * some nobler token ' which she had kept apart ' for Livia and Octavia ' as a friendly greeting, — in Rome, of course. In this last of all her encoimters Cleopatra triumphed, and Caesar was the ass unpolicied.
Of course, as is known to every one who has studied the play, Shakespeare derived this Scene with Seleucus from North's translation of Plutarch, and has here and there used North's very words and phrases, even to the gifls which Cleopatra intended to give Octavia and Livia, and, moreover, Plutarch says that Caesar was ' glad to hear her ^ say so, persuading himself thereby that she yet had a desire to save *her life.* All that is claimed for Stahr's interpretation is the sug- gestion that the display of honesty by Seleucus, and Cleopatra's violent behavioiu:, had been pre-arranged between the two for effect. If Caesar was deceived by it, the guile becomes finer by its having deceived even Plutarch. »
Coleridge says that this play should be perused in mental contrast with Romeo andjuliety — as the love of passion and appetite opposed to the love of affection and instinct. It is with unfeigned regret that I dis- sent from our finest Shakespeare critic, — not on the score of the contrast between these two tragedies, but that this play is one involving the love of passion and appetite. Where in the play is there any proof of it ? Where is there any scene of passion ? Where is there a word which, had it been addressed by a husband to a wife, we should not approve? And because they were not married is that love to be changed at once into sensuality ? Has there not been, in our own day, a well-known union, unblessed by the Church, which was founded solely on the intellect? Is wandering through the streets and noting the quality of the people sensual? Is fishing sensual? Is teasing past endurance sensual ? Such are the glimpses that we get into the com- mon life of this 'sensual' pair. If these pastimes be sensual, then are tennis and cricket sensual. All the extravagant terms of love, such as the demi -Atlas of the world, the paragon of men, the great Fairy, and so forth, cannot turn love into passion and appetite. When Cleopatra asks for 'music, moody food of us that trade in love,' * she has no thought of trafficking, mercenary love ; such love demands no music to sustain it. She and Orsino, in Twelfth Nighty were fellow- traders in love. With them. Love was the sole thought, the business
* Act II, sc. V, line I.
PREFACE XV
of their lives, as it is with all true lovers. Was it not Cleopatra's ' infinite variety ' that enthralled and held Anthony's heart? His love for her was not of the senses ; for, be it remembered, Cleopatra was not beautiful j she had no physical allurements \ but she could laugh Anthony out of patience and then laugh him into patience, and dress him up in women's clothes and laugh consumedly at him. And he never knew at what instant her mood would change from imperial scorn to humble, irresistible tenderness. These are some of the charms of infinite variety which are attractive to a man whose grey hairs do something mingle with the brown.
If we read it aright, the whole of the Fifth Act is a vindication of Cleopatra. The very first words in it from her lips reveal the change which Anthony's death had wrought :
' My desolation does begin to make *A better life.' And this better life reveals to her that greatness is merely relative, — that true greatness consists in rising so superior to life that life can be cast off with indifference, —
* To do that thing that ends all other deeds, 'Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change.'
From now on, to her last hour, her resolution never falters. Of course, she wishes to make the best terms for her children, and it is of impor- tance to know how Csesar proposes to treat her. If he is to leave her in Egypt her plans can be completed at will after his departure, but if he is to send her to Rome immediately, no time is to be lost. But before she has any interview with Caesar, she describes to Dolabella, under the guise of a dream, the proportions and qualities of the man she worshipped as Anthony. Every word springs to her lips, hot from the heart. We see her rapt, upturned gaze, and mark the sensitive, quivering mouth as she describes the man whom she adored : ' His face was as the heavens ; and therein stuck ' A sun and moon, which kept their course, and lighted
* The little O, the earth.
' His legs bestrid the ocean ; his rear'd arm ' Crested the world ; his voice was propertied ' As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends ; ' But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
* He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty
* There was no winter in't ; an Anthony it was 'That grew the more by reaping.'
Where in this description is there a trace of ' passion or appetite ' or ' sensuality ' ? It is cruel to ask the question. But to those who ascribe
xvi PREFACE
to her love these debasing qualities it is right that the question should be brought home.
That the student may have close at hand every facility for the study of this play, there is reprinted in the Appendix Drvden's All far Lave^ the only tragedy with the loves of Anthony and Cleopatra as its theme that deserves to stand in the neighborhood of Shakespeare. None of Drvden's other plays attained a popularity as great as this ; for full eighty years, from 1678 to 1759, it usurped Shakespeare's tragedy on the stage ; and, indeed, in these latter days came perilously and incom- prehensibly near to shaking the allegiance of Sir Walter Scott. It is an admirable play, and is decried only by those who have never read it as attentively as it deserves. Drvden's own opinion of it, or at least of one Scene, and his aim throughout, in its composition, are contained in its Preface, It is followed, in the Appendix^ by certain criticisms of it by those whose opinions are worthy of all respect. Drvden has been censiured for bringing together Octavia and Cleopatra, and their interview has been characterised, — imworthily, it seems to me, — as a * scolding match.' Octavia is, perhaps, a little less queenly than Cleo- patra, but both are as dignified as were, probably, any high-bom women whom Drvden had ever seen. One retort there is of Cleopatra which would hardly discredit Shakespeare. In the Third Act Octavia enters, and coldly addresses Cleopatra :
' I need not ask if you are Cleopatra,
Your haughty carriage
Cleopatra, Shows I am a queen.
Nor need I ask who you are.
Octavia, A Roman.
A name that makes and can unmake a queen.
Cleopatra. Your Lord, the man who serves me, is a Roman.' It would not be easy, I think, to parallel the neatness of this stab. It is almost incomprehensible that Drvden should have brought himself to depict a Cleopatra so utterly unlike the Cleopatra of him, whom, in his Prefcue^ he styled divine. He failed, apparently com- pletely, to understand or appreciate Shakespeare's Egyptian Queen. Had he caught but a glimpse of that Queen he could not, one would think, present a Cleopatra, who describes herself as
' a silly harmless household dove, ' Fond without art, and kind without deceit. '
There is no department within the scope of these volumes which is to me more unsatis&ctory and more unremunerative than that which
PREFACE xvii
deals with Actors. If the fame of Actors be transitory, rarely surviving the living presence, the fault lies in the lack of befitting memorials ; the details of their acting are not adequately recorded. Emotional impres- sions we have in abundance. But these are worthless as far as trans- mitting any definite conception of the actor's art is concerned. Possi- bly, during the actor's lifetime and while still before the public, these effusions may serve as advertisements ; when a man, learned and liter- ary, acknowledges publicly, in print, that he has been thrilled, of course we all wish to experience the same emotion and flock to the theatre for that purpose. But the future fame of the actor has been no whit advanced. What definite idea is conveyed to us when we read that in such or such a part Garrick was ' most impressive,' or that Kean was 'superbly grand,' or that Mrs Siddons was * ineffably tragic ' ? What we want to know are the emphasis, and the accent of words and phrases, the pauses, the gesticulation, the expression, and, in addition, what is technically known as 'stage business.' Without explicit information on such points, honest old Downes's descriptions are as satisfactory as the most elaborate of impressions, when he observes that * Mr Dogget 'was very aspectabund,' or that Mr Booth was 'of form venust,* or that Mr Estcourt could ' laetificate his audience.' When Gardiner in his Music of Nature * gives, in musical notation, the fluctuations and emphasis of Kean's voice in certain sentences, he does more to transmit the great actor, as a living presence, to succeeding generations than folios of emotional impressions. When Lady Martin in her Female Characters in Shakespeare (the finest interpretations that have ever been written, in my humble opinion) confides to us her own feelings at every moment, when she herself was the veritable Hermione, or Portia^ or Rosalinda she places on record, not alone the scope of her own trans- cendant gifts, but also an illuminating guide for all time to both actors and public.
Of all the stories that History has transmitted, none possesses, it would appear, such imiversal interest as a theme for dramatic tragedy as the loves of Anthony and Cleopatra. In proof of this pre-eminence it is noteworthy that in the Dramatic Literatures of both France antf Germany, this story is the subject of the earliest tragedy. Cleopatre Captive by Estienne Jodelle, in 1552, is chronologically the first French tragedy, and Cleopatra by Daniel Casper, in 1661, is the first German. And in each coimtry there have been successive versions, down to Mad. de Girardin's, in 1847, ^^nd Dingelstedt's, in 1878.
* See Merchant of Venue ^ p. 380, of this edition.
xviii PRE FA CE
In the belief that a comparison of the varied treatment of this theme would prove to others as interesting as it has proved to myself, I have given, in the Appendix^ brief abstracts of about twenty Versions ; not, be it understood, adaptations to the stage of Shakespeare's play, but distinct treatments of the same tragic fable. I have not included those dramas which portray Cleopatra's life before she met Anthony, such as Corneille's Pompie, Gibber's Casar in Egypt^ etc. I have made an exception, however, in favour of The False One, by Beau- mont and Fletcher. This drama is referred to so constantly in con- nection with Shakespeare's play, that, in an edition like the present, it could not well be passed over in silence. A glance at the following list of Versions, whereof abstracts are given in the Appendix, will show how ever present in the minds of men have been these immortal loves of Anthony and Cleopatra: Jodelle, 1552; Garnier, 1578; CiNTHio, 1583; Daniel, 1594; May, 1654; Delfino, 1660; Casper, 1661 ; Sedley, 1677 ; Dryden, 1678 ; de la Chapelle, 1683 ; Boistel, 1743 ; Marmontel, 1750; Alfieri, 1775 ; Brooke, 1778 ; Ayrenhoff, 1783; voN SoDEN, 1793 '> KoTZEBUE, 1801 ; Le Citoyen, S. D. M. An. XI. — 1803; SouMET, 1825; Mad. DE GiRARDiN, 1847 ; G. Conrad (Prince George of Prussia), 1868; and Dingelstedt, 1878.
These are not all. There are several others, described by Dr Georg Hermann Moeller,* but I have been unable to procure them, and have deemed the foregoing assuredly sufficient.
None of these Versions reveals any decided influence of Shake- speare ; occasionally, there are similarities or parallelisms, which may be traced, however, to Plutarch, the source common to all. This assertion should be qualified, perhaps, in two instances where Shake- speare is openly followed up to a certain point, and then there occurs a wide divergence ; one is by Henry Brooke, the author of The Fool of Quality, who introduces the two children of Anthony, and Rolemy, Cleopatra's brother ; and the other is by Dingelstedt, who represents Qeopatra's love for Anthony as turned into fiendish hate by the whip- ping of *Thyreus.*
In describing these Versions my aim has been to set forth the dramatist's conception of the character of Cleopatra, and I have, there- fore, translated chiefly what relates to her. In Anthony's character there is little variety ; his vacillation has been interpreted as weak- ness, and this weakness has been converted into tameness, wherein there is nothing respectable or lovable. In Boistel, however, we And an exception. His Anthony is aware of his own vacillation, and, to pre-
* Auffassumg der KUoptUra in der TyagoedienHteratur, etc., Ulm. 1888, — to which I am glad to acknowledge my indebtedness in obtaining a list of the Versions.
PREFACE xi:t
dude all chance of change, openly proclaims before his army that he repudiates Octavia, and that Cleopatra is his wife and their sovereign queen.
The ' infinite variety ' which lies in Shakespeare's Cleopatra seems to have invaded the conception of her character by the various dram- atists. This conception ranges from a beatification, with a benig- nity which enfolds even Octavia, to a blood-thirsty ferocity, which, in one instance, attempts to assassinate Antony, and, in another, does actually kill Octavia. Sufficient praise is not, I think, awarded to JODELLE, whose Cleopatra is really touching in her simple misery, and in the plaintive confessions of her many sins. In one regard his Version is certainly noteworthy; although he was trammeled by the necessity of following Seneca, he was, nevertheless, sufficiently keen-sighted to appreciate the characteristic treatment of Seleucus by his heroine and, in defiance of all staid Senecan rule, dared to repro- duce her transports of fiuy in the Scene with him, and to portray her attempts to wreak personal vengeance. Herein, for boldness and breadth, he transcends all his long line of successors except poor Citoyen S. D. M[orgues], who, after the First Act^ follows Plutarch so slavishly, with one or two noteworthy exceptions, that he seems to have inserted this Scene with Seleucus by mere force of habit. When we recall the year in which Jodelle*s Cleopatra was written, — ^in the earliest infancy of the modern drama, — our admiration must be kindled afresh for a work so worthy of a French PUiade,
As much cannot be said, it is to be feared, of the earliest offspring of the German tragic Muse, the prodigious bantling of Daniel Casper VON LoHENSTEiN, which extcnds to over four thousand lines of rhymed Alexandrines. Casper's knowledge of the Egyptian religion, with its elaborate burial rites, was, for his day, profound, and, in Cleopatra's zealous and business-like preparations for embalming the deceased Anthony, Casper found a truly delightful field for its display. Cleo- patra's minute instructions to Iras as to the extraction of the hero's brains shall not be repeated here, — ^it is enough that it has been printed once, and for all, in the Appendix. For Marmontel's extremely weak and juvenile version, it is said that the celebrated Vaucanson made an automatic aspic which imitated the movements and the hissing of a living one. It was forbidden, at that time, to hiss in the theatre, and soldiers were actually placed on guard to see that the order was rigidly obeyed. When the aspic darted at Cleopatra's breast it hissed loudly. As the curtain fell, a man in the audience asked his neighbour what he thought of the play, and received in reply, ' Je suis de I'avis de 1' aspic ! * The mot spread and did much to kill the play.
XX PREFACE
In reviewing these Versions there rise in my memory three that possess a surpassing charm: Delfino's, wherein the cold-blooded, austere Octavius is converted into a warm-blooded Italian lover and the timid, repentant Cleopatra basks for a few short hours in the warmth of his love; secondly, Madame de Girardin's, which is pervaded by an Egyptian atmosphere, and where the intellectual side of Cleopatra's character is emphasised, and where the sight of Octavia awakens in the Egyptian Queen, for the first time, a recog- nition of the nobleness of virtue ; and, lastly, Conrad's, where the poetry of life and of art and of love, personified in Cleopatra, comes into collision with the harsh, granitic prose of common life, as repre- sented in Octavius, — ^where poesy is crushed, and youth with its enthu- siasms, represented in Dolabella, expires on her lifeless body.
Apart from the interest awakened on their own account by these Versions^ may there not spring from reading them a delight, keener and more triumphant, in seeing how immeasurably Shakespeare has siupassed them all ? In other lands and in other tongues tragedy afler tragedy on this theme has been written, and may still be written, but, for those whose mother-tongue is English, the tragedy of Anthony and Cleopatra has been written once and for all time.
H. H. F. August, 1907.
Anthony and Cleopatra
Dramatis Perfona
TVyT Antony.
^^^ • Odlavius Caelar.
Lepidus. 4
1. First given by Rowe. Persons et seq. (sobs.)
represented. Cap. 4. LepidusJ\ jEmilius Lepidus^
2. 3, 4. Marked as Triumtnrs, Cap. Theob. et seq.
3. O^tavius Cesar] L. Schmitz (Smith, Dictionary, s. ▼.) : Augustus, the first Emperor of the Roman Empire, was bom B.C 63 ; his grandmother was Julia, Julius Caesar's sister; he was, therefore, Caesar's grandnephew. He was most carefully educated and became very early a great favourite of his grandnncle who, being child- less, is said to have made his will in favour of Octavius, as Augustus was then called. The name Augustus, by which he is best known, was conferred upon him later by the Senate. After the death of Caesar, Augustus joined Antonius in prosecuting a war against Caesar's murderers. In the course of it, the first Triumvirate was formed, con- sisting of Antonius, Augustus, and Lepidus, and in the proscriptions of the adherents of Brutus and Cassius which followed, Augustus was no less cruel than Antonius. After the battle of Philippi where Brutus and Cassius in despair committed suicide, and where the victory was mainly gained by Antonius, a new division of the world was made by the Triumvirs, and Augustus returned to Italy. Here Fulvia, Antonius' wife, fomented quarrels and insurrections in order to draw her husband away from Qeopatra. Augustus, however, succeeded in defeating these garboils and Fulvia' s death at Sicyon accelerated a peace between him and Antonius, which was further cemented by the marriage of the latter to Octavia, the sister of Augustus. Peace seemed to be now restored everywhere, but Augustus was anxious to find some pre- text whereby he could deprive Sextus Pompeius of his provinces which more or less controlled the supplies of food for Rome. This pretext was found in an accusation that Pompeius upheld piracy, and in a war which followed Augustus was victorious and Pompeius fled to Asia, and Lepidus who wanted Sicily from which Pompeius had just been driven was deprived of his army and sent to Rome where he ended his days as Pontifex Maximus. Having thus disposed of two of his rivals, Augustus felt himself strong enough to cope with the third, Antonius, whose arrogant proceedings in the East, coupled with his repudiation of Octavia, afforded ample grounds to Augustus for representing him as an enemy to Rome. War was now declared against Cleopatra, for Antonius was looked upon as merely her infatuated slave. After the battle of Actlum in September, B.C. 31, and the deaths of Antonius and Cleopatra, Egypt was made a Roman province. [His subsequent career has no bearing on this play, and is, therefore, omitted. ]
4. Lepidus] M. iEmil. Lepidus, the Triumvir, is first mentioned in the year B.a 52, when the Senate appointed him Interrex. In the civil war between Caesar and
X z
DRAMATIS PERSONS Sex. Pompeius.
5. Sextus Pompeius] Om. Kemble.
Pompey, Lepidus, who was then Praetor, joined Caesar. On the evening before the fatal 15th of March, Caesar had supped with Lepidus who was present on the follow- ing day in the Curia of Pompey, in the Campus Martius, and saw Caesar fall by the hands of the assassins ; Lepidus stole hastily away, and repaired to his troops which he was then collecting for his province. In the turbulent times which followed, Lepidus endeavoured to remain neutral but was at last compelled again to espouse Antony's side and toward the end of the year the celebrated conference took place at Bononia between Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus, which resulted in the Trium- virate. In the proscription-lists which followed this conference, Lepidus placed the name of his own brother, Paullus, who, to be sure, had been one of the Senators who had proclaimed his brother iSmilius a public enemy for having joined Antonius ; the soldiers, however, who were appointed to kill him allowed him to escape, possibly with the connivance of his brother. In B.C. 36, Octavius summoned him to Sicily to assist in a war against Sextus Pompeius. Lepidus obeyed, but tired of being treated as a subordinate, he resolved to acquire Sicily for himself, and regain his lost power. But he did not possess the confidence of his army ; and Octavius found means on his arrival to seduce it from its allegiance. Detachment after detachment deserted Lepidus, who was at last forced to surrender. All his courage forsook him. He put on mourning, and threw himself before the knees of Octavius, begging for life. This was granted to him; Octavius then deprived him of his Triumvirate, his army, and his provinces, but allowed him to retain his private fortune. Still, insults and the loss of honour and rank did not shorten bis life; he survived till B.C. 13. Lepidus had no decided character and was as incapable of committing great crimes as of performing Doble acts. He possessed great wealth and was little scrupulous as to the means of gaining it. Neither in war, nor in peace did he show any distinguished ability. His wife was Junia, a sister of the Brutus who killed Caesar. (Much condensed from an unsigned article in Smith's Dictionary.)
5. Sextus Pompeius] E. H. Bunbury (Smith, Dictionary ^ s. v.) : Sextus Pom- peius, the younger son of the Triumvir, was bom B.C. 75, since he was forty at the time of his death in B.C. 35. He did not possess any great abilities. He took arms from necessity, as he was first deprived of everything by Caesar, and then proscribed by the Triumvirs. His success was owing more to circumstances than to his own merits ; the war between the Triumvirs and the republicans, and subsequently the misunderstandings between Octavius and Antonius enabled him to obtain and keep possession of Sicily. He seems never to have aspired to supreme power. He was personally brave, but deficient in refinement, with hardly any knowledge of literature. Paterculus says that he could not speak correctly, but this is doubtless an exaggeration. In B.C. 38 he sustained a severe loss in the desertion of one of his principal legates, Menas, who surrendered to Octavius Sardinia and Corsica together with a large naval and military force. After varying fortune in his contests with Octavius, Pompeius was at last disastrously defeated by Agrippa, Octovius's legate, B.c 36. In the fol- lowing year Antonius gathered a large force by land and sea which threatened to crush Pompeius; whereupon his friends, among them his father-in-law, and his soldiers deserted him ; he was obliged to surrender and was put to death, B.C. 35.
DRAMATIS PERSONS . ,. ' \ Friends and Followers of Antony.
Enobarbus Ventidius
6. Enobarbus^ Domiiius Enobarbus^ 7. Ventidius\ Om. Gar. Kemble.
Theob. et seq. (subs.)
6. Domitius Enobarbus] Smith {Dictionary ^ s. ▼. ) : Cn. Domitius Ahenobarbus [i. e. Red-beard "^ had probably no share in the murder of Caesar ; but followed Brutus into Macedonia after Caesar's death, and was condemned by the Lex Pedia in B.c. 43 as one of the murderers. A year or two later Ahenobarbus became reconcile to Antony which gave great offence to Octavius. When the open rupture took place between Antony and OcUvius, Ahenobarbus fled from Rome to Antony, at Ephesus, where he found Cleopatra with him, and endeavoured, in vain, to obtain her removal from the army. Many of the soldiers, disgusted with the conduct of Antony, offered the command to him ; but he preferred deserting the party altogether, and accordingly went over to Octavius shortly before the battle of Actium. He was not, however, present at the battle ; he died a few days after joining Octavius. [Walker ( Vers, 186) remarks that this name * is frequently used as if it were a trisyllable, in whatever way the anomaly is to be explained,' — ^a remark which reveals Walker's strength and his weakness ; his strength, in that it is a proof of his extraordinary observation, and his weakness, in that it makes no allowance for the position of a word in a line, or for the liberty permissible in dramatic colloquies. In all the five examples which Walker quotes, the name occurs either in a broken line or at the end of a line, — where there is always for proper names a certain freedom in rhythm, and where in this par- ticular case, the name can be without harshness pronounced as a quadrisyllable ; and that it was intended to be so pronounced we can almost positively conclude, because when Shakespeare wished it to be a trisyllable it was so spelled, namely : * You see we hane burnt our cheekes. Strong Enobarbe' II, vii, 144. — an instance which Walker seems to have overlooked. For those who may be interested in this question, I subjoin the places where the name occurs : — I, ii, 153 ; II, ii, i ; II, ii, 283 ; II, vii, 144; III, ii, 64; III, xiii, I ; IV, v. lo; IV, v, 23 ; IV, vi, 26; IV, vii, 32; IV, ix, 12 (bis). It may be possibly worthy of note as a proof of Shakespeare's exclusive dependence on North's translation, that in Latin the name is not Enobarbus, bat Ahiobarbus or Ahenobarbus^ which the Domitian clan bore in memory of the appearance, to their founder, of Castor and Pollux who bade him carry the news of a victory to Rome and confirmed his faith in their divinity by gently stroking his black beard which turned immediately to a red or bronxe hue, hence Ahenobarbus, See Snetonios at the beginning of his Life of Nero, who was of this family. — Ed.]
7. Ventidius] Georgb Long (Smith's Dictionary, s. v.) : <P. Ventidius Bassus was a native of Picenum, and having fought against the Romans, he was made prisoner by Pompeius Strabo, and appeared in his triumphal procession in chains ; after this, being manumitted, he was admitted into the Senate in the course of time, and was then made Praetor in the time of Caesar, and attained such honour as to con- quer the Parthians and to enjoy a triumph for his victory.' — Dion Cass, xliii, 51. We most infer that he was quite a 3routh when he was captured by the Romans. When he grew up to man's estate, he got a poor living by furnishing mules and vehicles for those magistrates who went from Rome to administer a province. In this humble employment he became known to Julius Caesar, whom he accompanied into Gaul. After Caesar's death, Ventidius sided with Antonius in the war of Mutina, B.C. 43. In
CanidiuSy
Eros,
Scarus,
Decretas,
Demetrius,
DRAMATIS PERSONjE
8
> Friends and Followers of Antony.
12
8. Canidms,'\ Canidius^ Leeutenani- lo. Friends... ^iii/<Mi^]Antonimos,Ci^.
Getura/ /o Antony, MaX, €i seq. il, Decretas\ Rowc, Pope, Warb.
lo. Scarus'\ Om. Gar. TUius. Dercetas, Theob. et cet Om. Kemble.
Kemble. I2. Dem€irius\ Om. Kemble.
B.C 39, Antonius sent Ventidlus into Asia to oppose the Parthians under Labienus, whom Ventidius defeated and in the following year attacked Pacorus, king of the Parthians, whom also he defeated. Pacorus fell in battle and his head was sent round to the Syrian cities, thereby inducing them to keep quiet In the meantime Antonius arrived, and so far from being pleased with the success of Ventidius, he showed great jealousy of him, and treated him in an unworthy manner. It is said that Antiochus had ofiered Ventidius a thousand talents as the price of peace, and that Antonius, who undertook the siege of Samosata, was obliged to be content with three hundred. The Senate decreed to Antonius. a triumph for the victories of Ventidius; and Antonius rewarded his general by dismissing him from his employment. Yet the services of Ventidius were too great to be overlooked, and on coming to Rome, he had a triumph, B.C. 38. Nothing more is known of him.
8. Canidius] L. Schmitz (Smith's Diet.) : L. Canidius Crassus was with Lepidus in Gaul, in B.C. 43, when Antonius was compelled to seek refuge there and was the main instrument in bringing about the union between Lepidus and Antony. In B.C 32, when Antonius resolved upon the war with Octavius, Canidius was com- missioned to lead the army stationed in Armenia to the coast. On the outbreak of the war, many of Antonius' s friends advised him to remove Cleopatra from the army, but Canidius who was bribed by the queen, opposed this plan, and she accordingly accompanied her lover to the fatal war. Shortly afterward, however, Canidius also advised Antonius to send her back to Egypt, and to fight the decisive battle on land and not on sea. This time his advice was disregarded. During the battle of Actium, Canidius who had conunand of Antonius's land forces, could act the part only of a spectator. After the unfortunate issue of tlie sea-fight, Canidius and his army still held out for seven days in the hope that Antonius would return ; but in the end Canidius in despair took to flight, and followed his master to Alexandria, where he informed him of the issue of the contest and of the fate of his army. After the fall of Antonius, Canidius was put to death by the command of Octavius. He died as a coward, although in times of prosperity he had been in the habit of boasting that death had no terrors for him.
10. Scams] William Ramsay (Smith's Diciionary) : M. iCmilius Scaurus was the son of M. i^milius Scaurus and Muda, the former wife of Pompey, the Triumvir, and consequently the half-brother of Sextus Pompeius. He accompanied the latter into Asia after the defeat of his fleet in Sicily, but betrayed him into the hands of the generals of Antonius, in B.C. 35. After the batde of Actium, he fell into the power of Octavius, and escaped death, to which he had been sentenced, only through the intercession of his mother, Mucia. [See CapelPs note, IV, vii, 7.]
DRAMATIS PERSONAL
5
Philo, Friend and Follower of Antony. 1 3
Mecsenas, 1
A > Friends to Caefar.
Agnppa, J 15
13. PkiIo„.'\ Om. Gar. Kemble. latfu. (i. e. Antonians), Cap. [Att^ndantSf five ; Messengers^ 14. Mecana5\ Macenas Cam. Rife.
six; Soldiers (or Guards), nine; the
14. Mecsenas] Thomas Dyer (Smith's Dictionary , greatly condensed) : It is most probable that Maecenas (it seems to be agreed that this spelling is right) was bom between B.C. 73 and 63 ; his family was of high antiquity and traced its descent from an Etruscan source. All that we know of his life is to be gathered from scattered notices of him in poets and historians of Rome. Shortly after the appearance of Octarius on the political stage, we find the name of Maecenas in frequent association with his ; and there can be no doubt that he was of great use to him in assisting him to consolidate and establish the empire. In the year B.C. 40, Maecenas took part in the negotiations with Antonius which led to the peace of Brundusium, confirmed by the marriage of Antonius with Octavia, the sister of Octavius. About two years afterward Maecenas seems to have been employed in negotiating with Antonius, and it was probably on this occasion that Horace accompanied him to Bnindusium, a journey which he has described in the Satire, i, 5. In B.C. 36 we find Maecenas in Sicily with Octavius, then engaged in an expedition against Sextus Pompeius. From this time till the battle of Actium, B.C. 31, history is silent concerning him ; but at that period we find him again intrusted with the administration of the civil affairs of Italy. It has indeed been maintained by many critics that Maecenas was present at the sea- fight of Actium ; but the best modern scholars who have discussed the subject have shown that this could not have been the case and that he remained in Rome during this time. [His subsequent life, familiar to us all as the munificent patron of learn- ing and of poets, has no connection with the present play, and is, therefore, omitted.]
15. Agrippa] WiLUAM Plate (Smith, Diet, s.v,)i M. Vipsanius Agrippa was bom B.C. 63, and was descended from a very obscure family. At the age of twenty he studied at Apollonia in Illyria, together with young Octavius, afterwards Augustus. After the murder of Caesar, Agrippa advised Octavius to proceed immediately to Rome. Octavius took Agrippa with him, and in B.C. 43 gave him the delicate com- mission of prosecuting Cassius, one of the murderers of Caesar At the outbreak of the Perusinian war between Octavius and L. Antonius, Agrippa commanded part of the forces of Octavius, and finally besieged L. Antonius in Perusia, and took the town. In B.C. 38, Agrippa obtained fresh success in Gaul and contributed much to securing the power of Octavius, who recalled him to command the war against Sex. Pompeius, and promoted him to the consulship. After this promotion, Agrippa was charged by Octavius with the construction of a fleet, inasmuch as Sex. Pompeius was master of the sea. This order Agrippa executed with prompt energy. The Lucrine lake was transformed into a safe harbour and there he exercised his sailors till they were able to encounter the experienced sailors of Pompey. In two naval battles he gained such victories that he broke the naval supremacy of Pompey. In B.c. ^2* although he had been consul, he voluntarily accepted the aedileship, and expended immense sums of money on great public works. He restored the aqueducts, and constructed a new one, fifteen miles in length. His various splendid buildings were adorned with statues by the first artists in Rome, among these buildings was the
6 DRAMATIS PERSONS
Dolabella^ ^ i6
ProculeiuSj
Th'd* I ^^^^ ^^ Caefar.*
Gall us, J
' \ Friends to Pompey.
Menecrates, J
16. Dolabeiia] Om. Kemble. 19. GaZ/us] Om. Gar.
17. Procuieius] Om. Kemble. \^MessengerSf three ; Soldiers^ six ; * Friends...] Caesarians, Cap. M^ ja/«^. (i. e. Caesarians), Cap.
18. Thidias,'] Rowe, Pope. TTtyrius, 20. iWJrwflj] Om. Kemble.
Han. Tli^r^ttf, Tbeob.etseq. Thyrsus. 21. J/^ni^rrtf/^j] Om. Gar. Kemble.
Dion Cassius.
Fhmtbeon on which his name as the builder may still be read. When the war broke out between Octavius and Anthony, Agrippa was aj^inted commander-in-chief, and in the battle of Actium, where he conmianded, the victory was mainly owing to his ikill. [With this event our present interest in him ceases. He was one of the most distinguished men of the age of Augustus, and to him, as we all know, Horace addressed one of his Odes,'\
16. Dolabeiia] P. Cornelius Dolabeiia was the son of a profligate father of th« tame name and of his first wife, Fabia. (The father's second wife was Tullia, Cicero's daughter.) Very litde is known of him beyond what is given in Plutarch's Life of Antonius,
17. Procuieius] Concerning the life of Procuieius there is litde to add to that which Plutarch (who calls him Procleius) has given in his Life of Antony, Smith (Dictionary) SBys that * the great intimacy of Procuieius with Augustus is attested by many writers. Dion Cassius speaks of him and Maecenas as the principal friends of the emperor. Procuieius put an end to his own life by taking gypsum, when suffer- ing from a disease of the stomach. '
20. Menas] Edward Elder (Smith's Dictionary ^ s, v. — much condensed) : Menas, a freedman of Pompey the Great and of Sextus Pompeius, seems to have been of a thoroughly mercenary character, and, in looking after the main chance, assumed and threw off allegiance with as much indifference * as a huntsman, his pack.' In B.C. 39, when Antony and Octavius were feasting on board a ship of Pompeius, Menas made to the latter the treacherous proposal given in H, vii, 70-98. When Pompeius refused to become an accomplice to the treachery, Shakespeare represents Menas as saying aside < I'll never follow thy pall'd fortunes more,' which was true only for a while. When not long after Pompey sent for Menas, the latter put all the messengers to death, and agreed to surrender the island of Sardinia with all its garri- sons to Octavius, who treated him with great distinction and placed him in command of his ships. Just before a re-commencement of hostilities between Pompey and Octavius, Menas again played the deserter and went back to his old master. In the operations which followed, Menas gained some advantages ; but in obedience to what he believed to be his interest, he again deserted to Octavius, who received him gladly, but very naturally regarded him with distrust. In B.C. 35 Menas was slain at the siege of Siscia.
21. Menecrates] Edward Elder (Smith's Dictionary^ s,v.) : Menecntes, a
DRAMA TIS PERSONS
7
Varrius, Friend to Pompey. 22
Alexas, ^
-^. J > Servants to ClQopzXTdu
Diomedes, I ^ 2$
Seleucus, J
Silius, an Officer in Ventidius*^ Army.
Taurus, Lieutenant-General to Caesar.
Euphronius.
A foothfayer. 30
CloTvn,
Cleopatra, Queen of Mgyigt. 32
22. Varrius] Om. Gar. Om. Gar.
24. Mardiapi] Mardian, an Eunuch, 28. Taurus] Added by Theob. et Cap. Om. Kemble. seq. Om. Gar.
25. Diomedes] Om. Kemble. 29. Euphronius] Added to Friends
26. SeUtuus] Added by Han. et seq. of Antony, Cap. An Ambassador from (subs.) Antony to Caesar. Mai. et seq. Om.
27. Silius] Added by Theob. et seq. Gar.
freedman of Sextus Pompeius, was sent by him as commander of a large squadron of ships, in B.C. 38, to act against Octavius's admiral and Menas, the renegade. The fleets came to an engagement off Cumae, and Menecrates had the advantage over the enemy in manoeuvring ; but burning with hatred against Menas, he attacked and grapfded with the ship in which Menas sailed, and though disabled by a severe wound, continued to encourage his men until he saw that the enemy was on the point of capturing his vessel ; he then threw himself overboard and perished.
22. Varrius] Walker {Crit, ii, 323) suggests that this is perhaps L. Varius Cotyla, an officer and companion of Antony's, and that Shakespeare found him in North's Plutarch (p. 919, eds. 1603 and 1612) and perhaps by a slip of memory took him for a friend of Pompey's. 'The possibility,' Walker adds, *is, however, so slight, that it is only just worth mentioning.'
28. Taurus] W. Smith {Diet, s.v,\, Statilius Taurus was one of the most dis- tinguished of Octavius's generals. At the battle of Actium, in B.c. 31, Taurus com- manded the land-force of Octavius, which was drawn up on the shore.
32. Cleopatra] W. Smfth {JXct, s,v.): Cleopatra, the third child and eldest sur- ^iwvDg daughter of Ptolemy Auletes, [the Fluteplayer^ was bom towards the end of B.C. 69, and was consequently seventeen at the death of her father, who in his will appointed her heir of his kingdom in conjunction with her younger brother, Ptolemy, whom she was to marry. The personal charms, for which she was so famed, shewed themselves in early youth, as we are told by Appian that she made an impression on the heart of Antony in her fifteenth year, when he was at Alexandria with Gabinius. Her joint reign did not last long, as Ptolemy, or rather Pothinus and Achillas, his diief advisers, expelled her from the throne, about B.c 49. In the following year Caesar arrived in Egypt in pursuit of Pompey, and took upon himself to arrange mat- teis between Qeopatra and her brother. According to Plutarch, she made her entry
8 DRAMATIS PERSON2E
[32. Cleopatra] into Caesar's apiartment io a bale of cloth, which was brought by Apollodorus, her attendant, as a present to Caesar. However this may be, her plan fully succeeded, and we find her replaced on the throne, much to the indignation of her brother and the Egyptians, who involved Caesar in a war in which he ran great personal risk, but which ended in his favour. In the course of it, young Ptolemy was killed, probably drowned in the Nile, and Cleopatra obtained the undivided rule. She was, however, associated by Caesar with another brother of the same name, and still quite a child, with a view to conciliate the Egyptians, with whom she appears to have been very unpopular, and she was also nominally married to him. While Caesar was in Egypt Qeopatra lived openly with him, and would have detained him there longer, but for the war with Phamaces, which tore him from her arms. She however joined him in Rome, in company with her nominal husband, and there continued the same open intercourse with him, living in apartments in his house, much to the offense of the Romans. She was loaded with honours and presents by Caesar, and seems to have stayed at Rome till his death, B.C. 44. She bad a son by him named Caesarion, who was afterwards put to death by Octavius. After the death of Csesar, she fled to Egypt, and in the troubles which ensued she took the side of the Triumvirate, and assisted Dolabella both by sea and land, resisting the threats of Cassius, who was preparing to attack her when he was called away by the entreaties of Brutus. She also sailed in person with a considerable fleet to assist Antony after the defeat of Dolabella, but was prevented from joining him by a storm and the bad state of her health. She had however done suflicient to prove her attachment to Caesar* s memory (which seems to have been sincere), and also to furnish her with arguments to use to Antony, who in the end of the year 41 came into Asia Minor, and there summoned Cleopatra to attend, on the charge of having failed to co-operate with the Triumvirate against Caesar's murderers. She was now in her twenty-eighth year, and in the perfection of matured beauty, which in conjunction with her talents and eloquence, and perhaps the early impression which we have mentioned, completely won the heart of Antony. The first use Cleopatra made of her influence was to procure the death of her younger sister, Arsino€, who had once set up a claim to the kingdom. Her brother, Ptolemy, she seems to have made away with before, by poison. Her connexion with Antony was interrupted for a short time by his marriage with Octavia, but was renewed on his return from Italy, and again on his return from his Parthian expedition, when she went to meet him in Syria with money and provisions for his army. According to Josephus, Cleopatra during Antony's expedition went into Judaea, part of which Antony had assigned to her and Herod had necessarily ceded, and there attempted to win Herod by her charms, probably with a view to his ruin, but failed, and was in danger of being put to death by him. The report, however, of Octavia' s having left Rome to join Antony, made Qeopatra tremble for her influence, and she therefore exerted all her powers of pleasing to endeavour to retain it. From this time Antony appears quite infatuated by his attachment, and willing to humour every caprice of Cleopatra. We find her assuming the title of Isis, and giving audience in that dress to ambassadors, that of Osiris being adopted by Antony, and their children called by the title of the Sun and the Moon, and declared heirs of unbounded territories. One can hardly wonder that Octavius should represent Antony to the Romans as * bewitched by that accursed Egyptian ' ; and he was not slow in availing himself of the disgust, which Antony's conduct occasioned, to make a determined effort to crush him. War, however, was declared against Geopatra, and not against Antony, as a less invidious
DRAMATIS PERSONS g
Octavia, Sisier to Caefar, and Wife to Antony. 33
way. Qeopatra, indeed, persuaded Antony to retreat to Egypt, but the attack of Octavitts frustrated this intention, and the famous battle took place (b.c. 31), in the midst of which, when fortune was wavering between the two parties, Cleopatra gave a signal of retreat to her fleet, and herself led the way. Cleopatra died B.C. 30, in the thirty-ninth year of her age, and with her ended the dynasty of the Ptolemies in Egypt. She had three children by Antony : Alexander and Qeopatra, who were twins, and Ptolemy Philadelphus.
33. Octavia] W. Smith (Z>iV/. s. v.) : Octavia, the younger daughter of C. Octavius, by his second wife, Atia, and own sister * of the emperor, Augustus, was married first to C Marcellus, Consul B.C. 50, and subsequently to the Triumvir, M. Antonius. She lost her husband towards the latter end of B.C. 41 ; and as Fulvia, the wife of Antony, died about the same time, Octavius and Antony, who had lately been at variance, cemented their reconciliation by the marriage of Octavia to Antony. This marriage caused the greatest joy among all classes, and especially in the army, and was regarded as a harbinger of a lasting peace. Octavius was warmly attached to his sister, and she possessed all the charms, accomplishments and virtues likely to fascinate the affections and secure a lasting influence over the mind of a husband. Her beauty was universally allowed to be superior to that of CleopMitra, and her virtue was such as to excite even admiration in an age of growing licentiousness and cor- ruption. Nor at first did this union disappoint public expectation. By the side of' Octavia, Antony for a time forgot Cleopatra, and the misunderstandings and jealousies which had again arisen between her brother and husband, and which threatened an open rupture in the year 36, were removed by her influence and intervention. But Antony had by this time become tired of his wife ; and longed to rejoin Cleopatra. The war with the Parthians summoned him to the East. Octavia accompanied him from Italy as far as Corcyra, but upon arriving at that island he sent her back to her brother, under the pretext of not exposing her to the perils and hardships of the war. On arriving in Asia, Antony soon forgot, in the society of Cleopatra, both bis wife and the Parthians. Octavia, however, resolved to make an eflbrt to regain her husband. In the following year, B.C. 35, she set out from Italy with reinforcements of men and money to assist Antony in his war against Artavasdes, king of Armenia ; but Antony resolved not to meet her and sent her a message, when she had arrived as far as Athens, requesting her to return home. Octavia obeyed ; she was great-minded enough to send him the money and troops, and he mean enough to accept them. On her return to Rome, Octavius ordered her to leave her husband's house and come and reside with him, but she refused to do so, and would not appear as one of the causes of the war ; she remained in her husband's abode, where she educated Antony's younger son, by Fulvia, with her own children. But this noble conduct had no efiect upon the hard- ened heart of Antony, who had become the complete slave of Cleopatra ; and when the war broke out in B.C. 32, he sent his faithful wife a bill of divorce. After the death of Antony she still remained true to the interests of his children, notwithstanding the wrongs she had received from their father. For Julius, the younger son of Antony, by Fulvia, she obtained the special favour of Augustus, and she even brought up with maternal care his children by Cleopatra. She died in B.C. 11.
* At II, ii, 139, Shakespeare follows Plutarch, who speaks of Octavia as Caesar's half-sister. — Ed.
lO DRAMATIS PERSONS
Charmian, | ^^^^ attending on Cleopatra.
Iras, J 35
Ambajfadors from Antony to Caefar, Captains j
Soldiers J MeJJfengerSj and other Attendants. The Scene lyes infeveral Parts of the
Roman Empire. 39
34, 35. Charmian, Iras] And Casar sayed furthermore, that Antonuts was not Maister of himselfe, but that Cleopatra had brought him beside himselfe, by bei charmes and amarous poysons : aod that they that shoulde make warre with them, should be Mardian the Eunuch, Photinus, and Iras^ a woman of Cieopatraes bed- chamber, that frizeled her haire, and dressed her head, and CAarmion, the which were those that ruled all the affaires of Anionius Empire. — Plutarch. See Appendix,
[In the foregoing brief accounts, no attempt is made to show where Shakespeare has deserted history.
Collier : * The Tragedie of Anthonie and Cleopatra * occupies twenty-nine pages of the Folio of 1623; viz., from p. 340 to p. 368 inclusive, in the division of 'Trag- edies.' Although at the beginning it has Actus Primus^ Scana Prima^ it is not divided into acts and scenes, nor is the defect cured in any of the subsequent folio impressions of 1632, 1664, and 1685. They are all without any list of characters. —Ed.]
THE TRAGEDIE OF
Anthonie, and Cleopatra.
A6lus Primus. Sccena Prima.
Enter Demetrius and Philo :
PhUo. 5
y, but this dotage of our Grenerals
Ore-flowes the meafure : thofe his goodly eyes
That o're the Files and Mufters of the Warre, 8
1. TragedU\ Tragedy Y{, 4. Enter...] Enter Thyreus and Dolla-
2. Anikcnie,'] Anthony, F,. Anthony bella ; sent from Caesar. Gar. FjF^. Antony Rowe ct scq. 5. Philo.] Thy. Gar.
3. Scaena] Scena F^F^. 6-22. Marked as mnemonic, Warb. [Alexandria in Egypt. Rowe. The 6. Generals'] Generall F,. General
Palace at Alexandria in Egypt. Theob. ^^^t Rowe, + . General* s Cap. et seq. Cleopatra's Palace at Alexandria. Steer. 7. Ore,,. eyes] Two lines, F^.
I. Coleridge (p. 315) : Shakespeare can be complimented only by comparison with himself : all other eulogies are either heterogeneous, as when they are in refer- ence to Spenser or Milton ; or they are flat truisms, as when he is gravely preferred to Comeille, Racine, or even his own immediate successors, Beaumont and Fletcher, Massinger and the rest The highest praise, or rather form of praise, of this play, which I can offer in my own mind, is the doubt which the perusal always occasions in me, whether the * Antony and Cleopatra * is not, in all exhibitions of a giant power in its strength and vigour of maturity, a formidable rival of 'Macbeth,* 'Lear,* * Hamlet/ and • Othello.' Felidter audax is the motto for its style comparatively with that of Shakespeare's other works, even as it is the general motto of all his works compared with those of other poets. Be it remembered, too, that this happy valiancy of style is but the representative and result of all the material excellencies so expressed. This play should be perused in mental contrast with * Romeo and Jnliet ; * — as the love of passion and appetite opposed to the love of affection and instinct But the art displayed in the character of Cleopatra is profound ; in this, e^>ecially, that the sense of criminality in her passion is lessened by our insight into its depth and energy, at the very moment that we cannot but perceive that the passion itself springs out of the habitual craving of a licentious nature, and that it is supported and reinforced by voluntary stimulus and sought-for associations, instead of blossom- ing oat of spontaneous emotion. Of all Shakespeare*s historical plays, * Antony and
zx
12 THE TRACED IE OF [act i. sc. L
[i. The Tragedie, etc.] Cleopatra ' is by far the most wooderfiil. There is not one in which he has followed history so minutely, and yet there are few in which he impresses the notion of angelic strength so much ; — perhaps none in which he impresses it more strongly. This is greatly owing to the manner in which the fiery force is sustained throughout, and to the numerous momentary flashes of nature counteracting the historic abstraction. As a wonderful specimen of the way in which Shakespeare lives up to the very end of this play, read the last part of the concluding scene. And if you would feel the judgement as well as the genius of Shakespeare in your heart's core, compare this astonishing drama with Dryden's ' All for Love.' A. W. Schlbgel (iii, 173) : Antony and Cleopatra may be, in some measure, considered as a con- tinuation of Julius Casar: the two principal characters, Antony and Augustus, are in both pieces equally sustained. Antony and Cleopatra is a play of great compass, its progress is less simple than in Julius Casar, The fullness and variety of the political and warlike events, which ultimately brought about the union of the threefold division of the Roman empire under one master, were perhaps too vast to be combined for a distinct survey in one dramatic picture. This it is wherein precisely lies the great difficulty of the historical drama, it must be at the same time a condensed epitome of history and a vivid expansion of it ; this difficulty Shakespeare has for the most part successfully overcome. Here, however, many things, which occur in the background, are intimated only in such a way as to presuppose an intimate knowledge of history, and the comprehension of a work of art should never depend on any extrinsic information. Many persons of historical importance appear and dis- appear in passing ; the preparatory and co-operating circumstances are not adequately massed so as not to distract our view. The principal personages emerge, neverthe- less, in outline and colour most forcibly, and arrest the imagination. In Antony we observe a combination of great qualities, weaknesses, and vices ; powerful ambition and magnanimous emotions ; we see his degradation in luxurious enjoyment and his noble shame at his own lapses, — inspirited to follow noble resolutions which are in turn shattered by the seductions of a woman. It is Hercules in the chains of Omphale, transferred from the fabulous heroic age to authentic history, and clad in the Roman toga. The seductive arts of Cleopatra are displayed without a veil ; she is also an ambiguous creature composed of royal pride, feminine vanity, luxury, incon- stancy, and genuine attachment. Although the reciprocal passion of herself and Antony is morally worthless, it still excites our sympathy as an insurmountable fas- cination ; they seem formed for each other, inasmuch as Qeopatra stands quite as much alone for her seductive charm as Antony for his splendid deeds. As they die for each other, we forgive them for having lived for each other. The open-hearted and lavish character of Antony is excellently contrasted with the heartless littleness of Octavius Caesar, whom Shakespeare completely saw through, without allowing himself to be led astray by the fortune and fame of Augustus. HAZLirr (p. 102) : Shakespeare's genius has spread over the whole play a richness like the overflowing of the Nile.
6. Nay, but, etc.] Shakespeare's art in beginning his plays in the midst of a dia- logue is so skilful that there is a certain feeling of loss, as though we had been de- prived of some pleasing conversation ; and that if we had come only a minute sooner, we should have heard something entertaining. Thus Othello begins : — * Tush ! never tell me.' * You do not meet a man but frowns.' — Cymbeline, • My lord, I'll tell you.' — Henry V, etc. — Ed.
ACT I. sc. L] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 1 3
Haue glow'd like plated Mars :
Now bend, now tume 10
The Office and Deuotion of their view
Vpon a Tawny Front, His Captaines heart,
Which in the fcuffles of great Fights hath burft
The Buckles on his breft, reneages all temper, 14
9. Hke\ like a Jones ap. Hal. 14. reneages\ F,Fj. reneaguis or
9, 10. Hau€^„tume\ One line, Rowe reniegues Coleridge, Knt, Hal. reneags
et seq. Wh. reneyes Boswell. reneges F^ et cet.
9. Mars .*] F,, Sing. Mars, F^F^, rejects Wray ap. Cam. Rowe et cet stars Gould. temper y\ temper ; Theob. + , Cap.
12. Capiaines'\ CaptaifCs Rowe. Varr. Ran. Mai. Steev. Varr. Knt.
14. breft^'\ breft F^.
6. Generals] Malons calls attention to this needless genitive, which, he says, was < the common phraseology of Shakespeare's time.' It is not obsolete at this day, among writers who are as careless as were Shakespeare's printers. The latter ignored apostrophes in genitives. It would be rash to say they never used them, but I doabt that a single one will be found in the present play. So trivial a matter hardly needs verifying on the part of the Ed.
9. Mars] Shakespeare seems to have been guided only by the rhythm in the use of this genitive. Elsewhere he uses Marses and Mars his, — Ed.
12. Tawny] Rolfe: Tennyson refers to Qeopatra in A Dream of Fair fVomen, as a ' queen, with swarthy cheeks/ and some critics have supposed that he forgot she was^f pure Greek blood, being the daughter of Ptolemy Auletes and a lady of Pontus; but in a letter to me he called attention to * the polished argent of her breast ' in an- other stanza of the same poem. He says that he described her, as Shakespeare does in I, V, 33, as * with Phoebus amorous pinches black,' not as a half-African.
12. Captaines] Anthony has just been called a 'General.' I suppose that that title was here avoided lest the ear might confound it with tlie adjective, ' his general heart.' Moreover, although a General is higher in rank than a Captain, has not the latter a more martial sound here, implying hand to hand fighting ? A General would hardly mingle in the ' scuffles of great fights.' — Ed.
14. reneages] Craigie {N, £, D. s. v. Renegue) : An adaptation of mediaeval Latin, reneg are, formed on re-KK' + negare, to deny. [Under f 2, where it is used intransitively or absolutely, Craigie quotes, Lear, II, ii, 73, « Renegue, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks,' etc., where the Qq read *reneag.' See note a/ /oc. in this edition, where, as an additional proof that the g was pronounced hard a quota- tion from Sylvester's I>u Bartas is given, *All Europe nigh (all sorts of Rights reneg'd) Against the Truth and Thee, un-holy Leagued.' It is still common in this country (noted by Craigie, under 4. a) among whist-players, in the sense of revoke, and sometimes pronounced renig. It affords another instance of the survival in this coantry of words which are archaic in England. — Eo.
14. temper] This may be possibly explained as another of the many instances where * temp>er * means temperament, constitution. Schmidt {Lex. s. v.) gives it, how- ever, a separate section, as meaning, *■ wonted disposition, freedom from excess or extravagance, equanimity,' to which the only parallel that he finds is Lear's ' Keep
14 THE TRACED IE OF [act i. sc L
And is become the Bellowes and the Fan 15
To coole a Gypfies Luft.
Flaurijh. Enter Anthony^ Cleopatra her Ladies ^ the Traineywith Eunuchs fanning her. Looke where they come :
Take but good note, and you (hall fee in him 20
(The triple Pillar of the world) transformed
16-19. To cooU..Jhey come :'\ One 17. Anthony,] Anthony, and F^F^.
line, Rowe et seq. 17, 18. her...Traine, with] her ladiet
17, 18. After line 19, Rowe, + , Cap. in the train, Pope, with their Trains,
Varr. Ran. Mai. Stecv. Varr. Knt, Hal. Knt.
After line 22, Dyce, Sta. 17. Ladies,] Ladies; Ff.
17. Flourifh.] Om. Ff, Rowe, Pope. 20. in him\ him F F^, Rowe.
Flourish within (after Lufi) Dyce. 21. ( The ... world)] The ... worU^
Flourish without (after come:) Sta. Rowe. The. ..world Yi^ Pope et cet.
me in temper ; I would not be mad.' I, v, 51. May there not be here, where fighting is the theme, a suggestion of the hardening of steel such as Othello refers to when he speaks of ' a Sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper ' ? — Ed.
16. To coole] Johnson : Something seems to be wanting. The bellows and fan, being commonly used for contrary purposes, were probably opposed by the author, who might perhaps have written, * To kindle and to cool.' M. Mason: Johnson's amendment is unnecessary. The bellows and the fan have the same effects. When applied to the fire, they increase it ; but when applied to any warm substance, they cool it. Malonk : The text is undoubtedly right. The following lines in Spenser's Faerie Queene at once support and explain it, * But to delay the heat, least by mis- chaunce It might breake out, and set the whole on fire, There added was by goodly ordinaunce, An huge great paire of bellowes, which did styre Continually, and cool- ing breath inspyre.'— II, Cant, ix, 267. Staunton {Athen. 12 Apr. 1873) : Some- thing appears to have been lost ; but Johnson's remedy stretches out the line beyond all measure. We might better read, * To heat and cool,' — citing in confirmation, * To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool.^ — II, ii, 239.
16. Gypsies Lust] Johnson : < Gipsy' is here used both in the original meaning for an j^gyptian^ and in its accidental sense for a bad woman, Irving's Ed. : No metaphor, as all who know anything of the gipsies know well, could be less exact than that which takes their women as a symbol of lust. They might much more correctly stand as a symbol of chastity.
17. Flourish] Bradley (A^. E. D. s. v.) : 7. Mttsic a. A fanfare (of horns, trum- pets, etc.), especially to announce the approach of a person of distinction.
21. triple Pillar] Warbihiton : * Triple' is here used improperly for third ox one of three. One of the Triumvirs^ one of the three masters of the world. Steevens : Compare, * The earth and all the inhabitants thereof are dissolved : I bear up the pil- 3ars of it' —Psalm 75, 3. [* Triple ' in the sense of third is used again where Helena tells the king that her father gave her many receipts, < chiefly one, which . . . He bade me store up, as a triple eye, Safer than mine own two, more dear.' — AW s Well, II, i.
ACT I. sc. i.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA \ 5
Into a Strumpets Foole. Behold and fee. 22
Cleo. If it be Loue indeed, tell me how much. ^«/.There's beggery in the loue that can be reckoned 24
23. much.'\ muchf F^F^, Rowe, + .
171. In Notts and Queries^ I, iii, 498, A. E. Brae contended that in both instances Shakespeare osed the word as the Latins, or at least Ovid, used tripUxy and herein lay A proof of Shakespeare's learning. But when Ovid represents i^IbU^ 76) the Fates as spinning (only Lacbesis spun) triplUi poUice^ it is to be feared that he is in the same condemnation with Shakespeare. Walker (Crit. i, 62) devotes a section to instances of an * inaccurate use of words in Shakespeare, some of them owing to his imperfect scholarship (imperfect, I say, for he was not an ig^norant man even in this point), and others common to him with his contemporaries.' Some of these instances are * eternal * for infemaly * imperious ' for imperial^ * ceremonies * for 9mens^ • temporary * for temporal^ the present * triple ' for thirds and again in this play 'competitor' for colleague (I, iv, 5; V, i, 52), 'important' for importunate^ etc. The effect of this list is cumulative, and possibly it is therefore wisest to acknowledge at once that Shakespeare has here blundered. At the same time, might we not admit that after Shakespeare has used a word twice in an intelligible though illogical sense, the word might as well be adopted into the language for daily use ? It would have a paternity which many a perfectly legitimate word might be content to own. -Ed.]
22. Strumpets Foole] Douce (ii, 73) : Many ancient prints conduce to show that women of this description were attended by buffoons ; and there is good reason for supposing, partly from the same kind of evidence, that in their houses such characters were maintained to amuse the guests by their broad jokes and seasonable iDtics. [Warburton, in the belief that the metaphor, introduced by * Pillar,' needed an antithesis, asserted that we should here, for < Foole,' read j/W, because < women of this description ' sometimes sat * in the laps of their lovers.' Strangely enough. Walker {Crit. i, 63) had 'no doubt' that Warburton was right, and believes < that "pillar" requires it' To Walker's editor, Lettsom, the emendation 'appears ▼ery doubtful.' Grey (ii, 190) suggested a change, which he * imagines would be as proper,' namely : strumpet"* 5 tool. It was reserved to Coleridge to put the question at rest at once and for ever. * Warburton' s conjecture is ingenious,' he says (p. 317), 'and would be a probable reading, if the scene opening had discovered Antony with Qeopatra on his lap. But, represented as he is walking and jesting with her, " fool " must be the word. Warburton's objection is shallow, and implies that he confounded the dramatic with the epic style. The ** pillar" of a state is so common a metaphor as to have lost the image in the thing meant to be imaged.' — Ed.]
23. Cleo. If it be, etc.] Hazutt (p. 97) : The character of Cleopatra is a master- piece. What an extreme contrast it affords to Imogen ! One would think it almost impossible for the same person to have drawn both. She is voluptuous, ostentatious, conscious, boastful of her charms, haughty, tyrannical, fickle. The luxurious pomp and gorgeous extravagance of the Eg3rptian queen are displayed in all their force and lustre, as well as the irregular grandeur of the soul of Mark Antony. Take only the first four lines that they speak as an example of the regal style of love-making.
24. Ant. There's beggery, etc.] Mrs Jameson (ii, 150) : The character of
l6 THE TRAGEDJE OF [act I, sc L
Cleo. He fet a bourne how farre to be belou'd. 25
AfU. Then mud thou needes finde out new Heauen^ new Earth. 27
Mark Antony, as delineated by Shakespeare, reminds me of the Famese Hercules. There is an ostentatious display of power, an exaggerated grandeur, a colossal effect in the whole conception, sustained throughout in the pomp of the language, which seems, as it flows along, to resound with the clang of arms and the music of the revel. The coarseness and violence of the historic portrait are a little kept down ; but every word which Antony utters is characteristic of the arrogant but magnani- mous Roman, who * with half the bulk o' the world played as he pleased,' and was himself the sport of a host of mad (and bad) passions, and the ^ve of a woman. [Everyone will recall Romeo's impassioned, ' They are but beggars that can count their worth ' (II, vi, 32), and Claudio's, « I were but little happy, if I could say how much ' (Much Ado, II, i, 292). Steevens gives, from Theobald, without acknowl- edgement, a quotation from Ovid {Meta. xiii, 824) which is possibly parallel. It is where Polyphemus is boasting to Galatea of his wealth in flocks and herds ; — * All this flock is my own ; many others are roaming the valleys \ Many are hid in the forest, and many are stabled in caverns. Should 3rou ask how many there are, I should not be able to tell you. To number the tale of his flock is ever the mark of a poor man.' < Hoc pecus omne meum est : multae quoque vallibus errant ; Multas silva tegit : multae stabulantur in antris : Nee, si forte roges, possim tibi dicere, quot sint. Pauperis est numerare pecus.' Golding's translation (p. 170 verso)^ more vigorous than mine, is as follows: — *This Cattell heere is all mjme owne. And many mo besyde Doo eyther in the bottoms feede, or in the woodes them hyde. And many standing at tbeyr stall es doo in my Caue abyde. The number of them (if a man should ask) I cannot showe. Tush beggars of theyr Cattell vse the number for too knowe.' Steevens quotes also from an Epigram, wholly apposite, where Martial (Bk. vi, No. 34) begs for kisses, and in answer to the question * how many ? * answers, * bid me number ocean's waves, or the shells scattered on the .^ean shore, or the number of bees wandering on the Cecropian mount, or the number of voices and applauding hands when the people catch sight of Caesar's face in the crowded theatre. I do not want as many as the clever Catullus begged from Lesbia, that is, any definite number, however vast, because 'pauca cupit, qui numerare potest' — Ed.]
25. He, etc.] Hartley Coleridge (ii, 183) : If Antony owed to Cleopatra the loss of empire, he is indebted to her for less hateful renown than would else have clung to him. Shakespeare and Dryden make the Philippics forgotten, and the murderer of Cicero is lost in the lover of Cleopatra.
25. bourne] Murray {N.E.D.): Eariy modem English borne, apparently equiv- alent to Old Fr. bodne, bone, boune. In English in Lord Bemers, and in Shakespeare (seven times), then apparendy not till the 1 8th century ; the modem use being due to Shakespeare, and in a large number of cases directly alluding to the passage in HamUt. 2. A bound, a limit [as in the present line]. 3. In Shakespeare's famous passage, Hamlet, III, i, 79, * Borne' (Qq), probably meant the ' frontier or pale' of a country ; but has been associated contextually with the goal of a traveller's course.
26. Then must thou, etc.] Johnson : Thou must set the boundary of my love mt a greater distance than the present visible universe affords.
ACT I, sc i.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 17
Enter a MeJJenger. 28
Mef. Newes( my good Lord )from Rome. Ant. Grates me, the fumme. 30
Cleo. Nay heare them Anthony. Fuluia perchance is angry : Or who knowes, 32
28. Enter...] Enter an Attendant. F^. JRate me the sum ^owt. It grates Cap. me. Tell the sum Pope, Theob. Han.
29. Mef.] Att. Cap. Warb. ' T grates me : — the sum Cap. Rome.'\ Rome — Ktly. ' Grates me : — The sum Sta. Grates me^
ja Grates me, the fumme"] Rate me. The sum Johns, et cet. (subs.) the fumme F,Fj. Rate me, the fumm 31. them] i/Pope,+ .
30. Grates me, the summe] Johnson : Be brief, sum thy business in a few words. A. £. Thisslton (p. 7) believes that here is an instance where a comma indicates merdy a grammatical inversion of the sentence and that the phrase is, in fact, ' The sum grates me.* The meaning is the same, whatever the punctuation, namely, that the sam, and not the particulars, of the news is to be delivered. If there be, how- ever, an inversion, as Mr Thiselton contends, it is used for dramatic effect, and, it seems to me, that this effect will be heightened in proportion as the punctuation is emphatic, even to the conversion, as in the majority of modem texts, of the comma into a full stop. Time should be given to Anthony at least to stamp his foot with vexation. He is too impatient to care for granmiar, and any addition, such as < It ' or * T * weakens the rasping harshness of ' Grates,' which is a relief and a satisfaction to his vexed soul. — Ed.
31. them] Malone interprets this as referring to the 'newes,* and he may be right ; as he says, ' news * may be plural. But Cleopatra, in lines 42 and 45, speaks of the * messengers,' and, in line 62, of the 'Ambassadors.' Although only * a^ messenger enters, it is not impossible that others were seen approaching ; or, what is more likely, by exaggerating the number, Cleopatra magnifies the importance of the news, and veils her jealousy of any control over Anthony greater than her own, in stinging taunts at his subordination to a shrill-tongued woman and a beardless boy. — Ed.
31. Anthony] This spelling is as invariable in this play as the spelling < Antony ' is in Julius Ccesar.
32. Fuluia] Leonhard Schmitz (Smith's Diet,) : Fulvia was first married to P. Clodius, by whom she had a daughter, Claudia, afterwards the wife of Caesar Octavius. When Clodius was murdered, she married C. Scribonius Curio ; and after his fall in Africa, she lived for some years as a widow, until about b.c. 44 she mar- ried M. Antony, by whom she became the mother of two sons. Up to the time of her marrying Antony, she had been a woman of most dissolute conduct, but hence- forth she clung to Antony with the most passionate attachment, and her only ambition was to see her husband occupy the first place in the republic, at whatever cost that position might be purchased. When Antony was declared a public enemy, she addressed the most humble entreaties to the Senate, praying that they might alter their resolution. Her brutal conduct during the fearful proscriptions of B.C. 43 is well known ; she gazed with delight upon the head of Cicero, the victim of het husband. In B.C. 40, while Antony was revelling with Geopatra in all the luxuries of the East, Fulvia, stimulated partly by jealousy and the desire of drawing Antony
l8 THB TRAGEDIE OF [act i, sc L
If the Icarfe-bearded Ca/dtr hane not fient 33
His powTcfall Mandate toyoiLDo tlitSyOr this; Take in that Kingdoaie,aiid Infinanchiie that: 35
Perform'ty or elie we damne thee.
Ant. How^my Loue?
Geo. Perchance? Nay, and moft Uke : You mud not (lay heere longer, your difiniflioa Is come from QE/ar^ therefore heare it AniJumy. 40
34^36. jrauJ>c..JM€£,'\ jom. " £h... Perckmut ! Dyce.
tkUr Tbeob. Johns, et scq. (sob*.) 38. A>7»-JEfc .-] (Nmy, Mulm^Hie,)
38. PtrcMofur/] Perchance ^ Rowe,+, Theoh. Han. Warh.
llaL Steer. Var. Percluuut^-' CoU. i^uir.] &lr, Rowe.
back to Italy, and partly by her hostility towards Odarnis, resolved upon raising a oommotion in Italy. She induced L. Antonins, her hn^iand^s brother, to come for- ward as the protector of those who were oppressed and reduced to poverty by the colo- nies of Octari as. He took his post at Praencste whither he was followed by Folyia. She afterwards followed him to Perusia, and endeaToured to rouse the inhabitants of the north of Italy to assist him, while he was besieged at Perusia by Octavius. When Perusia fell into the hands of Octarius, by the treachery of L. Antonius, Fulvia was permitted to escape, and went to Brundusium, where she embarked for Greece. Her husband, who had in the meantime been informed of the war of Perusia and its result, was on his way to Italy. He met Fulvia at Athens, and censored her severely for having caused the disturbance. It is said that, from grief at his rough treatment, she was taken ill, and in this state he left her at Sicyon while he went to Brundusium. Her feelings were so deeply wounded by her husband's conduct, that she took no care of herself, and soon after died at Sicyon, B.c 40. The news of her death came very opportunely for the Triumvirs, who now formed a reconciliation, which was cemented by Antony marrying the noble-minded Octavia.
33. icarcc -bearded] Caesar was at this time twenty -three years old.
35. Take in] Reed : That is, subdue, conquer. Haluwell (SeUct, NoUs, 7) : In 1610 a tract appeared which was entitled,—* Newes out of Clcave-land, being the true relation of the taking in of the towne and castle of Gulicke in Germanie.* [See « cut the Ionian Sea, And take in Troine.*— Ill, vii, 28. Merely the antithesis involved in • Infranchisc ' would of itself supply the meaning of *take in.*— Ed.]
36. damne] Collier (ed. ii)': The MS alters 'damne' to doom; and although 'damne' certainly sounds rather coarsely in the mouth of Cleopatra, and would have done io even in the time of Shakespeare, yet we make no change, recollecting that the heroine, in other places, sometimes errs on the score of delicacy, and that * damn ' is the more expressive word, which the poet, on that very account, may have preferred. Still *damn' and tioom would be spelt with the same letters in short- hand, and the transcriber may have misread his note.
38. Perchance?] The interrogation is to be preferred, I think. Qeopatra is questioning the propriety of her * perchance * in line 32. — Ed.
39. mutt] The emphatic word.
40. therefore] Even in this word, there is a taunt.— Ed.
ACT I. sc L] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
Where's Ftduias Proceffe? {Ccefars I would fay) both ? Call in the Meffengers : As I am Egypts Queene, Thou bluflieft Anthony y and that blood of thine Is Casfars homager : elfe fo thy cheeke payes (hame, When (hrill-tonguM Fuluia fcolds. The Meffengers. Ant. Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide Arch Of the raing'd Empire fall 2 Heere is my fpace, Kingdomes are clay : Our dungie earth alike Feeds Bead as Man ; the Nobleneffe of life Is to do thus : when fuch a mutuall paire,
19 41
45
SO
41. (Caefars / would /ay)'\ Ff. C^sar'Sf I Vfould say^ Rowc. Casar's? Pd say Pope, Theob. Warb. Otsar's ? I would say Han. Casar's^ Pd say — JcJins. Otsar's I would say ? Cap. et cet
42. / am\ Fm Pope, + , Dycc ii, iii.
43. bloody bloud F^F^.
44. cheeke payes'\ cheeks payes F .
cheeks pay F^, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
45. Meffengers^ Messengers — Theob. Warb. Johns.
47. rain^d'\ F,. raign'dY^^, rais'd Rowe, Pope,Theob. Han. Warb. reigned Blumhoff. ranged Johns et seq.
/pace"] span Gould.
48. dungie"] dungy Ff.
41. Processe] The writ or judicial means by which a defendant is brought into court, to answer the charge preferred against him. So called because it proceeds or issues forth from the court. — Bouvier's Law, Diet.
47. raing'd] Warburton : Taken from the Roman custom of raising triumphal ardies to perpetuate their victories. — [Hereupon Warburton cannot refrain from a stroke of smug self-praise by exclaiming, * extremely noble ! * — Ed.] — Johnson: I am in doubt whether Shakespeare had any idea but of a fabric standing on pillars. It is not easy to guess how Dr Warburton missed this opportunity of inserting a French word, by reading deranged. Which, if deranged were an English word, would be preferable both to raised and ran^d, — [This conjecture was not re- peated in the Var. of 1 7 73, where Johnson was associated as an editor with Steepens. It is, therefore, to be assumed that it was charitably withdrawn. — Ed.] — Capelx (i, 26) : That is, orderly ranged ; whose parts are now entire and dis- tinct, like a number of well-built edifices. — [Capell, followed by Malone, quotes as parallel * bury all, which yet distinctly ranges, in heaps and piles of ruins.' — Cor. Ill, i, ao6. But Schmidt (^Lex,) differentiates both this use in Cor. and also, < whatso- ercr comes athwart his affection ranges evenly with mine,* in Much Ado, II, ii, 7, quoted by Steevens, from the use of the word in the present line, — and, I think, properly. Capell' s interpretation seems to be just. Compare * whose several ranges,' III, xiii, 7, that is, whose several ranks of war. — Ed.]
48. Kingdomes are clay : Our dungie earth] Have we not here the same con- temptuous scorn for the merely physical, animal life that lies in Hamlet's words where he speaks of being * spacious in the possession of dirt * ? See V, ii, 8. — Ed.
5a Is to do thus:] I can recall but one solitary passage in all Shakespeare where there is the need, within the scene, of a stage-direction, namely : in Hamlet's interview with Ophelia when Polonius and the King are concealed behind the arras, — and there the lack is indeed deplorable. But elsewhere the context, together
20 THE TRACED IE OF [act i. sc. i.
And fuch a twaine can doo't, in which I binde 5 1
One paine of punifliment, the world to weete We (land vp Peereleffe.
Cleo. Excellent faUhood : Why did he marry Ftduiay and not loue her? 55
52. One] On Ff. 54. [Aside. Johns.
with that wherewith Northcote said he mixed his colours : ' brains,' will supply an actor with the appropriate *■ business.' In the present line, after ' thus,' Pope inserted the stage-direction ' embracing^* and has been followed by every editor, I think, from that day to this. I do not forget how much more childlike than at present were the men and women of aforetime, whether in the days of the Caesars or in the dajrs of Elizabeth, in the outward expression of their emotion, by embracing, by kissing, or by the enviable gift, at command, of profuse and prolonged tears. But even with this in mind, is it to be considered likely that Anthony would here publicly kiss, embrace, or even touch Cleopatra ? She was wrangling with him, — teasing him almost past endurance, determined to obtain from him some assurance that, whatever the mes- sage from Rome, he would not leave her; and is it in character that she should tamely submit to be 'embraced?' and then, when released from Anthony's arms, where she had lain like an unresisting dove, renew the wrangling which this ' embrace ' had interrupted ? All wrangling thereafter would be absolutely stingless. They were not standing side by side. Quarrels are not so conducted. They were facing each other, and, I imagine, by some such gesture as an obeisance and a sweep- ing wave of both hands toward her, — a not uncommon mode of illustrating ' thus,' — ^he showed that his whole existence with her, day by day and hour by hour, was the true nobleness of life, compared to which kingdoms are clay. In speaking above of stage-directions, I refer to situations where a key is urgently needed. There are, in the Ff and Qq, many insertions, such as *They all start. ^ — Hick. Ill: II, i, 79, etc., which are good, but not essential ; experienced actors do not need to be thus instructed. — Ed.
51. And such a twaine] Staunton {AihauEum^ 12 April, 1873) : Here the words, ' such a mutual pair And such a twain ' are tautologous and feeble. Besides which, they fail to account for the Queen's rejoinder, * Excellent falsehood!' I cannot but think Shakespeare wrote, < And such a constant twain,' or * such a faith- ful twain.' Some epithet implying an indefeasible affection seems imperatively called for. — [The addition of a disyllabic mars the metre, but this would be venial, if the need were beyond question. Does not, however, any epithet weaken < such ?' which, in its full force, may imply constant^ faithftd^ loyal^ steadfast^ and all other appropriate epithets? — Ed.]
52. to weete] Skeat (N, dx* Qu. VII, ii, 385) : * We do you to wit ' is a per- fectly well-known phrase ; literally, it means we cause you to know ; practically, it means we request you to take notice. Antony says, * We bind the world to weet,' I. f, we compel the world to take notice. * Weet ' is a late spelling of wiV, verb, to know.
54. falshood] Deighton : The abstract for the concrete, as in Kin^ John, III, ivi 36, *0 fair affliction, peace!'; Tempest^ V, i, 218, *Now, blasphemy, That swear' St grace overboard.'
ACT I, sc. L] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 2 1
lie feeme the Foole I am not. Anthony will be himfelfe. 56
Ant. But ftirr'd by Cleopatra. Now for the loue of Loue^and her foft houres, 58
56. /!>... Anthony] One line, Pope et 57. B%U'\ Buts i. e. But is Anon. MS
seq. ap. Hal.
Jlel /Cap. Cleopatra.] dtopatra^ Rowe ii,
Anthony... ^iOT/>(^] As Aside, Pope. CleoptUra: Han. Cleopatra, —
Ktly. Cap.
kimfelfe.'\ him/elf, F,F,. 58. her\ his Rowe, + , Cap. Var. Ran.
56. He seeme the Foole I am not, etc.] Heyss : The world will deem me a fool because I give myself up to one who is faithless ; but I am not a fool because I know how faithless he is. Antony will be himself, if he again becomes faithless to me.
57. But stirr'd] Upton (p. 261) continues this to Qeopatra : * Antony Will be himself, but stirr'd by Cleopatra,* and marks it as Aside. Heath (p. 448) thinks this emendation of Upton < can admit of no dispute.' Capell (i, 26) : Cleopatra diecks herself for asking so idle a question as that about Fulvia, knowing as she (forsooth) did, that Antony would be Antony ; and is there stopped by a reply of most exquisite delicacy, — * But, stirr'd by Qeopatra,* — who can say what he will be ? for that is left to be indicated by the tone in which the words are delivered, and the action and look that accompanies them. Johnson : < But,* in this passage, seems to have the old Saxon signification of withouty unless, except, Antony, says the Queen, will recollect his thoughts. Unless kept, he replies, in conunotipn by Cleo- patra, [Emphatically, this is to me 'obscurum per obscurius.* — Ed.] M. Mason seems as wide of the mark as Dr Johnson. He observes that ' by *< Antony will be himself,** Cleopatra means to say, *<that Antony will act like the joint sovereign of the world, and follow his own inclinations, without regard to the mandates of Cxsar, or the anger of Fulvia.** To which he replies, " If but stirr'd by Qeopatra ;" that is, *«if moved to it in the slightest degree by her." * Singer 'believes Mason*s exfdanation to be nearly correct; Antony will be himself without regard to Csesar or Fulvia. Add if mooed to it by Qeopatra.* Nares (j. v. But) : Antony's reply may either mean, • but Qeopatra will have the merit of moving him to be so ; ' or 'moved oniy by Qeopatra.* Knight, after giving the explanations of Johnson and M. Mason, justly says, « Surely the meaning is more obvious ; ' he then gives what seems to me to be the true interpreUtion : * Antony accepts Qeopatra*s belief of what he will be. He will be himself ; but still under the influence of Qeopatra ; and to show what that influence is, he continues, "Now for the love of Love," etc.* Abbott quotes this passage under { 128, and gives the meaning of * but' as equiv- alent to *not except stirr'd,* ^ only if stirr*d,'— a meaning which is to me more than doubtful. The whole diflficulty arises, I think, from failing to apprehend the meaning of Qeopatra' s last words. < 1*11 seem the fool I am not,' she says, and then adds contemptuously, * Antony will be the fool he really is.' He parries the sUb, and tries, unsuccessfully, to propitiate her by acknowledging that he will be that same ibol, but stirr'd to his very soul by love for Qeopatra. Then follows the exquisite music of the next four lines, to which there came in reply only the exasper- ating parxot-cry, ' Hear the ambassadors ! ' — Ed.
58. Loae] Malone : That is, the queen of love. Compare < Let Love, being
22 THE TRACE DIE OF [act i, sc L
Ix^t^M not confound the time with Conference harih;
I'hcre'tf not a minute of our liues fliould (Iretch 60
Without fome pleafure now. What fport to night?
Cleo. Heare the Ambafladors.
Anl, Fye wrangling Queene : Whom euery thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, To wccpe : who euery pafTion fully ftriues 65
To make it felfe (in Thce)faire, and admir'd. No Meflenger but thine, and all alone, to night 67
61. pleafure now, What^ pleasure. 67. Mejfenger but thitu^ Yi, Rowc,
Naw^ what Johns. Pope. Messenger^ but thine ; Thcob.
65. who euery] wkofe every Yiy Rowe Han. Warb. Cap. Ran. Sia. Glo. Cam. et icq. Messenger but thine — Johns. Messenger ;
fully] fitly Coll. MS. but thine. Ktly. Messenger; but thine
66. (ill Thee) ] Ff. in thee Rowc Mai. ct cet.
et seq. 67, 68. to night... and note] One line,
Rowc ct seq.
light, be drowned if she sink.' — Com. of Err. Ill, i, 52. [Dyce apparently agrees with Malonc ; he refers to the same line in the Com. of Err, But Capell was not of this opinion; he followed Rowe in substituting *• his soft hours' for 'her soft hours.* I cannot believe that there lies herein the faintest reference to the queen of love or to her boy. The expression * love of love ' means, I think, the love of love in the abstract, the very soul of love ; just as Hamlet, by < heart of heart,* means the innermost shrine of his heart, ' his heart*s core.* If its had been in common use, Shakespeare might possibly have said * for the love of love and its soft hours,' — but then the exquisite feminine touch of the * her ' would have been lost Tennyson uses this very phrase, with others exactly parallel, where he describes « The Poet' as * Dower* d with the hate of hale, the scorn of scorn. The love of love.' — Ed.]
59. confound] M alone : That is, consume. So in Cor. I, vi, 17, * How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour.' [Both here and in I, iv, 31, * confound the time* has, I think, a meaning wider than merely to consume ; it means to lose^ to waste^ to ruin. — En.]
61. now] Warburton : We should read new; a sentiment much in character of the luxurious and debauched Antony. Thiselton (p. 8) proposes the same emendation, for the reason that Plutarch represents Cleopatra as ever devising * sun- dry new delights' for Antony. Capell (p. 28) : ♦Now' is here a word of great force, for the reasonableness of what is then spoken is all wrapped up in it : by * now ' is insinnated the speaker's own advanced age, and that of the lady addressed 10; whidi, in the opinion of persons like them, makes it proper that no time be lost in the parsoing of what they call— pleasures. Johnson adopted an original punc- taation, without comment.
65. faUy] CoLUER (ed. ii) : This may be understood as entirely, and successfully
67. No Messenger hot thine, and] That the punctnatioQ here is impoitant b Baniiest by the changes recorded in the Text. Xotes. There can be hardly a qnes- tkat tbe p-ntT*!^^ of the Folios is wrong. Qeopatra had neither received
ACT I, sc. i.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 23
Wee'l wander through the ftreets,and note 68
The qualities of people. Come my Queene, Laft night you did defire it. Speake not to vs. 70
Exeunt with the Traine.
Dem. Is Ccefar with Anthonius priz'd fo flight ?
Philo. Sir fometimes when he is not Antfionyy He comes too (hort of that great Property Which ftill fhould go with Anthony. 75
Dem. I am full forry, that hee approues the common Lyar,who thus fpeakes of him at Rome ; but I will hope of better deeds to morrow. Reft you happy. Exeunt 78
70. [As they are going out Enobarbus Knt, Sing. Ktly, Dyce ii, iii.
polls Antony's robe. Kemble. 76-78. that hee,., happy, "^Thj^tWnt&t
71. the] their Rowe et seq. ending Fame ... hope ... happy. Pope, 72-75. Om. and II, ii, 218-277 »o- Theob. Han. Warb. Three lines, end-
serted. Gar. ing who.,. hope, „happy ! Cap. et seq.
T2. flight'^ light Grty/u, 190. 77. Lyar,„of him'\ liar Fame, fVho
76, I,.. forry'] Pm sorry "Po^yThtoh, speaks him thus Pope, Theob. Han.
Han. Warb. I'm/uU sorty Sieey.yar, Warb.
nor sent a messenger. Malone's punctuation gives, I think, the true interpretation. In Anthony's complete surrender and acknowledgement that he belongs to Cleo- patra, the latter's victory is gained and her wrangling ceases. — Ed. 68. Wee'l wander, etc] See North's Plutarch, in the Appendix,
72. Cjesar with Anthonius] Abbott (§ 193) : < With ' is, perhaps, here used for as regards, in relation to, as in our modem, < this has not much weight with me,' though, perhaps, * with ' may here mean by. At all events the passage illustrates the connexion between 'with' and 'by.' Compare, 'His taints and honours, waged equal with him.* — V, i, 39.
76. approues] Murray {N. E, D,) i f 2. To attest (a thing) with some au- thority, to corroborate, to affirm. Compare, ' What damned error, but some sober blow Will bless it and approve it with a text.' — Mer, of Ven, III, ii, 79. M ALONE : That he proves the common liar, fame, in his case to be a true reporter.
77, 78. hope of better deeds] Abbott ({ 177) : 'Of is sometimes used to separate an object from the direct action of a verb : (r) when the verb is not always or often used as a transitive verb, as ' hope ' or ' like.' [As in the present instance.]
24 THE TRACED IE OF [act i. sc. ii,
[Scene //.]
Enter EnobarbuSy LampriuSy a Southfayety RanniuSy LuciUi- uSy Chamtiatty IraSy Mardian the Eunuchy
and Alexas.
Char. L. AlexaSy fweet AlexaSy moft any thing AlexaSy almoft moft abfolute AlexaSy where's the Soothfayer 5
that you prais'd fo to'th'Queene ? Oh that I knewe this Husband, which you fay, muft change his Homes with 7
Scene II. Pope et seq. 5. wheres\ whtres F,.
The Same. Another Room. Cap. Sootk/ayer] Southfayer F .
1-3. Enler...] Enter Enobarbus,Char- 6. /o tt^tfC] to th' F^F^, Rowe, P6pe,
mian, Iras, Alexas, and a soothsayer. Han.
Rowe,+. Enter Alexas, Giarmian, Iras, Oh'\ Oh! Y »
a Soothsayer and others. Cap. et seq. 6-8. Oh... Garlands] Two Unes, end-
(s»»bs. ) mg/ay, ... Garlands, Walker ( Crit, i, i8).
4-8. Five lines, ending sweet Alexas 7. change] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Johns.
.„ almost „, soothsayer ,„ say. ..garlands. Var. Steev. Var. '03, '13, Knt, Sta.
Cap. charge Theob. et cct.
4. Z.] Om. Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. change... tm/h] change for horns Cap. Lord Johns, et seq. his Han. change his garlcmds with
5. almoJT] nay^ almost Cap. horns Schmidt conj.
Scene ii] Dsuus {Sh. Jahrbuch^ V, 267) : The frivolous conversation of Cleo- patra's court, expressive of the thoughtless life there, is carried on in prose. The sooth- sayer, in expounding the value of his prophecies, is the only one who uses blank verse. On the appearance of the impassioned Cleopatra language assumes a higher strain and blank verse is then used by the others. In the dialogue, at the con- clusion of the Scene, between Antony and his trusty Enobarbus, the latter as the representative of the more elevated humour of the play, speaks in prose, in which his satirical remarks on Cleopatra and Fulvia are certainly appropriate. Antony himself barely req)onds to this mood and style of his friend.
I. Lmmpriut, . . . Rannius, Lucillius] Steevens : It is not impossible, indeed, that < Lamprius, Rannius, Lucillius,' might have been speakers in this scene as it was first written down by Shakespeare, who afterwards thought proper to omit their speeches, though at the same time he forgot to erase their names as originally announced at their collective entrance. [In Much Ado^ there is a character, Inno- gen, who is set down in the Dramatis Personae, and enumerated among those who enter at the beginning of the Second Act, and yet she speaks no word throughout the play. See Appendix ^ Wyndham, p. 487. — Ed.]
4. sweet Alexas] Collier (ed. ii) reads *most sweet Alexas,' in accordance with a marginal note in his Second Folio ; *• by what follows,' he says, * *< most " is clearly required, and we may be sure that it had, in some way, escaped in the press.' [It cannot be denied that the addition, most^ is an improvement ; not absolutely necessary, but still an improvement. The next words *most anything Alexas' seem almost to demand it To improve Shakespeare, however, is no more justifiable than to deface him. — Ed.]
7. which you say, must change his Homes with QarUnds] Theobald : We
ACT I, sc. ii] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 25
[7. which you say, must change his Homes with Garlands.] must restore, ' must charge his horns,' that is, must be an honourable cuckold, must have his horns hung with garlands. Charge and ' change ' frequently usurp each other's place in our Author's old editions. [Theobald hereupon adds, with his charac- teristic scrupulous honesty, — an honesty Warburton knew not, — *I ought to take notice, that Mr Warburton likewise started this emendation.' In Warburton' s own edition, no such scruples harassed him. He gave the emendation as wholly his own.] Upton (p. 304) quotes this passage as an instance where Shakespeare uses 'change' in its secondary sense of new dress and adorn, Capell (i, 27, adopting charge) : That is, dress them up *■ with garlands,' set them forth gayly ; a wanton thought, that suits perfectly the person it comes from, and is expressed in words equally wanton. [Theobald's] very slight change is necessary. Johnson : I am in doabt whether to < change ' is not merely to dress^ or to dress with changes of gar- lands. M ALONE : I think the reading, originally introduced by Theobald \charge'\^ is the true one, because it affords a clear sense ; whilst, on the other hand, the read- ing of the old copy affords none : for supposing change with to mean exchange for^ what idea is conveyed by this passage ? and what other sense can these words bear ? The substantive change being formerly used to signify variety (as change of clothes, of honours, etc.) proves nothing : change of clothes or linen necessarily imports more than one ; but the thing sought for is the meaning of the verb to ' change,' and no proof is produced to show that it signified to dress ; or that it had any other meaning than to exchange, Charmian is talking of her future husband, who certainly could Dot change his horns, at present^ for garlands, or any thing else, having not yet obtained them ; nor could she mean, that when he did get them, he should ' change' or part with them, for garlands : but he might charge his horns, when he should marry Charmian, with garlands : for having once got them, she intended, we may suppose, that he should wear them contentedly for life. The same mistake happened in Cor, V, iii, 152, where the same correction was made by Warburton, and adopted bj all subsequent editors : ' And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt.' Steevens : 'To change his horns with (i. e. for) garlands' signifies, to be a triumphant cuck- old ; a cuckold who will consider his state as an honourable one. We are not to look for serious argument in such a < skipping dialogue ' as that before us. Knight stands loyally by the Fu-st Folio, and interprets * change ' by * vary— give a different appearance to.'' STAUNTON follows Knight, and suggests that *■ change ' ' may mean to vary or garnish. Charge is certainly very plausible.' W. W[illiams] {^Parth- enon^ 17 May, 1862) : It seems to me that when Warburton offered an explanation of Shakespeare's meaning, he also well-nigh restored, unconsciously, the very words of the dramatist He says the horns of Charmian' s husband must be *■ hung about' with garlands. Now hang was anciently spelt hange, and, although this orthography was djring out at the date of this tragedy, the omission or insertion of the final e depended pretty much on the caprice of the compositor. It can scarcely then be deemed unreasonable to conclude that the play-house copy from which this tragedy was probably printed would have shown Shakespeare's words to have been * must hange his Horns with Garlands.' . . . The insertion of a superfluous initial letter was equally likely as a source of error . . . We find in the old copies of this play, * '/is well,' where Shakespeare must have written * is well,' and * jtow me after' for * tow me after.' Staunton (Athenceum^ 12 April, 1873) • 'Change' is unquestionably a misprint for chain — of old spelt chayne. The allusion is to the sacrificial ox, whose horns were wreathed with flowers. [It is to be regretted that Staunton did not know
26 THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sc. u.
Garlands. g
Alex. Soothfayer.
Sooth. Your will ? lO
Char. Is this the Man ? Is't you fir that know things ?
Sooth. In Natures infinite booke of Secrecie, a little I can read.
Alex. Shew him your hand.
Enob. Bring in the Banket quickly : Wine enough, 15
CUopatrds health to drinke.
Char. Good fir, giue me good Fortune.
Sooth. I make not, but forefee.
Char. Pray then, forefee me one.
Sooth. You fhall be yet farre fairer then you are. 20
Char. He meanes in flefh.
Iras. No, you fhall paint when you are old.
Char. Wrinkles forbid.
Alex. Vex not his prefcience, be attentiue. 24
9. Sootkfayer.'\ Soothsayer ^ — Thcob. 16. [to some within. Cap.
Warb. Johns. Cap. 17. Good,,.fne'\ Separate line, Han.
11. tkings\ aU things Lloyd {N. <5r* 18. /] Mcuiam, /Han. Qu, VII, xi, 82). 20-29. Om, Gar.
12. In,,, secrecie^ One line, Theob. et 20. Ycu..,yet'\ Separate line, Han. seq. 21. fle/h'\ face Gould.
14. [Enter Enobarbos. Cap. et seq. 22. you are"] Om. Han.
15. Banhet'] Banquet F^F^. 24. prefcience'] patience F^F^, Rowe.
that he was herein anticipated by Zachary Jackson ; else, rather than be seen in such company, he would have withheld his hand. Inasmuch as two editors, as eminently respectable as Knight and Staunton, have decided that ' change * is mtelligible, the obscurity cannot be so desperate as to demand the substitution of another word, nor is there a sufficient reason to disregard the wholesome rule that the more difficult read- ing is to be preferred. We must remember that the thought, whatever may be the words, is not that of Charmian, but of Alexas, who has evidently taunted the giddy girls with indulging in frivolity to its extrcmest limit, — even to the unparalleled limit of indifferently changing the symbols of disgrace with the chaplets of marriage. I cannot see any reason for adopting Theobald's emendation, which, moreover, seems to make the husband an active agent in loading his horns with flowere, — a task which is not generally supposed to fall to his share. — Ed.]
15. Enob. Bring in the Banket, etc.] Wilhelm Koenig (Sh. Jhrb, x, 381) calls attention to the fact that no one pays any heed either to the entrance or to the command of Enobarbus, and that we hear nothing further from him for more than thirty lines, — until he says that it will be his fortune to go drunk to bed. Koenig suggests, therefore, that the entrance of Enobarbus be transposed to follow Charmian*s exclamation, * Wrinkles forbid,' line 23, and that Alexas's command, *Vex not his prescience,' etc. is addressed to him.
ACT I, sc. iL] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 27
Char. Hu(h. 25
Sooth. You Ihall be more belouing, then beloued.
Char. I had rather heate my Liuer with drinking.
Alex. Nay, heare him.
Char. Good now fome excellent Fortune : Let mee be married to three Kings in a forenoone, and Widdow • 30 them all : Let me haue a Childe at fifty, to whom Herode of lewry may do Homage. Finde me to marrie me with 32
25. [to Iras. Cap. 29. Good now"} Good now^ F^.
27. Tvi/A,'] with much Han. 32. me t6\ me, to Pope, + .
27. my Liner] M. Mason : The liver was considered as the seat of desire. In answer to the Soothsayer, who tells her she shall be very loving, she says, 'she had lather heat her liver by drinking, if it was to be heated.*
29-33. Let mee be married . . . 0<5tauiu8 Caesar] Th. Zielinski {^Philologus, p. 19) : Shakespeare imagined Charmion as younger ihan her mistress ; the age of fifty, then, would bring her to the birth of Christ. Is it clear who that child is ' to vhom Herode of lewry may do homage * ? In Matthew, ii, 8, Herod himself says 'Go and search diligently for the young child ; and when ye have found him, bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also.' And to whom does he say this ? To the < Holy Three Kings.' Are not these the same that are included in the list of Charmion*8 wishes ? The fancy deserves a Mystery : — wife to the Holy Three Kings, the mother of God, and, withal. Empress of Rome. [It is by no means easy to disprove this interpretation, which at first decidedly shocks us. It is unavailing to appeal to the text of the Scriptures, where, in the Bishop's Bible of 1568, — the Version used by Shakespeare, — the Magi are termed, not King^ but * Wise men * ; these Wise men had been called ' Kings ' centuries before Shakespeare was bom, and as such had been familiar characters in Christmas carols throughout England, and, possibly, are so, to this day. It is also possible that any allusion whatever to 'Three Kings' would at once have suggested to Shakespeare* s audience the ' three wise men.' Furthermore, the * Three Kings ' must here be considered as a unit or as a single group ; Charmian was to be married to them all at once or in one forenoon. This play opens in B.C. 40 and extends to B.c. 32 ; if Charmian be now eighteen or twenty, she will be fifty in the jrear when Christ was bom. The refer- ences to Herod and the verse in Matthew are a little staggering. I do not like this interpretation ; it more than grates me. It imparts to Charmian' s words an air of frivolous irreverence, which is to me un -Shakespearian. But there is never anything uttered at random by any of Shakespeare's characters, and the chances are many against this wish of Charmian's being spoken at haphazard and tallying at the same time so exactly with dates. Whenever an allusion is thrown out, we must catch it of ourselves ; Shakespeare will not point it out to us. It is to be feared that there is many an allusion in his plays, less pointed than this, which critics have accepted and approved. — Ed.]
31, 32. Herode of Jewry] Steevens : Herod paid homage to the Romans, to procure the grant of the kingdom of Judea : I believe there is an allusion here to the theatrical character of this monarch, and to a proverbial expression founded on it Heiod was always one of the personages in the Mysteries of our early stage, on which
28 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act i. sc ii.
Oilauius Cce/ary and companion me with my Miftris. 33
Sooth. You (hall out-liue the Lady whom you ferue. Char. Oh excellent, I loue long life better then Figs. 35
Sooth. You haue feene and proued a fairer former for- tune, then that which is to approach.
Char. Then belike my Children (hall haue no names : Prythee how many Boyes and Wenches muft I haue.
Sooth. If euery of your wifties had a wombe, & fore- 40
tell euery wifli, a Million.
33. marrie me witk\ marry me^ with 39~44- Om. Gar.
Han. 40, 41. fore-tell'\ F,F,. fore-Ul F^.
35. excellent,'] excellent ! Thtoh. y^r^/^/ Rowe, Johns. Var. Rann. foretM
yj. tAen,,,appro€uh'] Separate line. Pope, /ertil or fertile Theoh, et cet.
Cap. ct seq. ^...Milium'] Ff, Johns. One
38, 39. Prose Cap. et seq. line, Rowe et cet
he was constantly represented as a fierce, haughty, blustering tyrant, so that ' Herod of Jewry ' became a common proverb, expressive of turbulence and rage. Thus, Hamlet says of a ranting player, that he * out-Aerods Herod.* And, in this tragedy, Alexas tells Cleopatra [III, iii, 6] that 'not even Herod of Jewry dare look upon her when she is angry ; ' i. e. not even a man as fierce as Herod. According to this explanation, the sense of the present passage will be — Charmian wishes for a son who may arrive at such power and dominion that the proudest and fiercest monarchs of the earth may be brought under bis yoke. [That this is the specific, theatrical Herod to whom Charmian refers has been universally accepted, and will probably so remain, in spite of the preceding ingenious note. — Ed.]
33. 0<5tauiu8 Csesar] She could not aspire to Anthony without being a rival to her mistress. She, therefore, elects the next highest potentate. — Ed.
35. Oh excellent] Capell (p. 27) : It has been observed by a gentleman, — that this is < one of those ominous speeches, in which the ancients were so super- stitious,' and the observation is just ; for the Poet deals largely in them. [Very doubtful.]
35. I loue long life better than Figs] Stsevens says that this is a proverbial expression.
38. my Children shall haue no names] Johnson : If I have already had the best of my fortune, then I suppose * I shall never name children,' that is, I am never to be married. However, tell me the truth, tell me, * how many boys and wenches ? ' Steevens : A * fairer fortune,* I believe, means — a more reputable one. Her answer then implies, that belike all her children will be bastards, who have no right to the name of their father's family. Thus says Launce: 'That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no names.' — 7W Gent, III, i, 321. Malone: Compare R, of L. *Thy issue blurr'd with nameless bastardy, "^ — line 522.
40. euery] For other examples of * every ' equivalent to every one, see FRANZ, I 219, c. ; or Abbott, {12.
40, 41. fore- tell] Theobald : The poet certainly wrote * And fertil every wish.'
ACT I, sc. u.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 29
Char. Out Foole, I forgiue thee for a Witch. 42
Alex. You thinke none but your fheets are priuie to your wifties.
Char. Nay come^ tell Iras hers. 45
Alex. WeeU know all our Fortunes.
Enob. Mine, and mofl of our Fortunes to night, ihall be drunke to bed. 48
43. Out"} Ou/f ou/f Han. 48. ^^] ^^ /<> j"^ Rowe, + . ^e — Cap.
44. your wijhes] Separate line, Han. et seq. (subs.)
45. come] come, and Han.
[I make no question that this is Theobald's own emendation, albeit that Warburton repeated it in his edition and made no allusion whatever to him. Consequently, to Warburton has the credit pretty generally been given.] Johnson : The emendation of Dr Warburton is made with great acuteness; yet the original reading may, I think, stand. * If you had as many wombs as you will have wishes, and I should foretel all those wishes, I should foretel a million of children.' < And ' is for and if, which was anciently, and is still provincially, used for if. [Thiselton (p. 8) says that ' and ' is here illative, — a somewhat unusual function, but the topic is unusual. — Ed.] Malone will not listen to untold millions of ' wishes ' unless accompanied by fer- tility. Collier (ed. ii) adopts fruitful^ the emendation of his MS corrector, and Dtce (Strictures, p. 20Z) tells him that the ductus literarum is not favourable bit
42. for a Witch] For an analysis of shades of meaning of this ' for,' meaning in the quality of in the capacity of as, which is far more common in Shakespeare than in modem usage, see Franz, { 329.
42. Witch] Walker {Crit. ii, 88) : 'Witch' in the sense of a male sorcerer, or without any specific reference to sex, frequently occurs in the old writers [whereof many examples follow. In Wint. Tale, Leontes calls Paulina a 'witch' and to add to it an especial roughness, calls her a * mankind witch.' Walker concludes his article with a quotation from Minsheu's Guide into the tongues, 16 17 (s. v. Con- inration) where the difference is set forth 'betueene Conjuration, Witchcraft, and Inchantment ; ' — * the Coniurer seemeth by praiers and inuocation of Gods powerfuU names, to compell the Diuell to say or doe what he commandeth him : The Witch dealeth rather by a friendly and voluntarie conference or agreement betweene him or her and the Diuell or Familiar, to haue his or her tume serued in lieu or stead of blood, or other gift offered vnto him, especially of his or her soule : So that a Con- iurer compacts for curiositie to know secrets, and worke maruels ; and the Witch of meere malice to doe mischiefe : And both these differ from Inchauntcrs or Sorcerers, because the former two haue personall conference with the Diuell, and the other meddles but with Medicines and ceremoniall formes of words called Chamies, with- out apparition.' Walker quotes only a portion of the foregoing, but the whole of it seems interesting. J. Churton Coluns (Note in The Pinner of Wakefield, HI, "» 703) quotes from Latimer: «We run hither and thither to witches or sorcerers whom we call wise men.' — Sermons preached in Lincolnshire, V. (ed. not given). In the edition of 1572, however, this passage runs, * we runnc hither and thither to wyssaides, or sorcerers, whome we call wyse men.' — Fol. 98, verso, — Ed.]
30 THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sc iL
i'Tras. There's a Palme prefages Chaftity^ if nothing els.
Char. E'ne as the o're-flowing Nylus prefageth Fa- 50
mine.
Iras. Go you wilde Bedfellow^ you cannot Soothfay.
Char. Nay, if an oyly Palme bee not a fruitfull Prog- noftication, I cannot fcratch mine eare. Prythee tel her but a worky day Fortune. 55
Sooth. Your Fortunes are alike*
Iras. But how, but how, giue me particulars.
Sooth. I haue faid.
Iras. Am I not an inch of Fortune better then flie ?
Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better 60
then I : where would you choofe it.
Iras. Not in my Husbands nofe.
Char. Our worfer thoughts Heauens mend.
Alexas. Come, his Fortune, his Fortune. Oh let him 64
49. ^if^Mtff^ //j] Separate line, Han. et seq. (sabs.)
50. E^ne] E*en Rowe, + , Cap. Dyce, 57. ^<w,^W] A^io— ^^ Rowc, Pope. Sta. Cam. Even Var. '73 et cet howf^gvve Theob. ct seq. (subs.)
Nylus\ Nile Han. 64. Alexas.] Ff, Rowe, Pope i. Om.
55. worky day] F,. workyday F,. and continuing to Char. Pope ii. Con- Workyday F^, Rowe,+. worky-day Cti^, tinuing to Char. Theob. et seq.
49-51. There's . . . Soothsay] Walker {Crit. i, 18) reads 'There is' and divides the lines thus : — « chastity/ * Nilus ' — * bedfellow.* * Nil us,* he obserres, * surely indicates verse.' But why does he begin and end with these two or three lines ?— -an oasis of verse in a desert of prose. Is it to be imagined that Shakespeare would have contemplated with pleasure such patchwork ? Especially, since, in order to be appreciated, it must be seen on the printed page, a pleasure, which, in this play, Shakespeare probably never enjoyed. And in the meantime what becomes of Delius's fine-spun theory in regard to prose and verse? Every line of this portion of the scene must be stark prose, or for poor Delius, ' nought's had, all's spent.* We have read our Shakespeare to little advantage unless we have acquired from him a liberality as free as the air, that chartered libertine, and these theories (the very word becomes repulsive !) are sent to put that liberality to the test. — Ed.
53. oyly Palme] There is a parallel thought in 0th. HI, iv, 36-38.
54. I . . . scratch mine eare] F. Bradnack (Medical Record, N. Y., i Feb., '879* p. >l6) in an amusing list of proofs, drawn from the plays, that Shakespeare was at home in matters of physic, quotes the present phrase as evidence that he was familiar with * Brachial Paralysis.'
64. Alexas. Come, etc.] This sophistication of the compositor, after having been adopted in the Folios, by Rowe, and Pope, Theobald was the first to detect and expose in his Shakespeare Restored, whereof the full title reads : — or, A Specimen of the Many Errors, cu well Committed, as Unamended, by Mr. Pope in his late Edition of this Poet, Designed Not only to correct the said Edition, but to restore
ACT I, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 3 1
mary a woman that cannot go, fweet IJis^ I befeech thee, 65
and let her dye too, and giue him a worfe, and let worfe follow worfe, till the word of all follow him laughing to his graue, fifty-fold a Cuckold. Good IJis heare me this Prayer, though thou denie me a matter of more waight : good IJis I befeech thee. 70
Iras. Amen,deere Goddeffe, heare that prayer of the people. For, as it is a heart-breaking to fee a handfome man loofe-WiuM, fo it is a deadly forrow, to beholde a foule Knaue vncuqkolded 2 Therefore deere IJis keep de- corunij and Fortune him accordingly. 75
67. worfe\ worst Warb. (Corrected 71. the] thy Daniel.
N. 6f* Qu. VIII, iii, 262.) 74, 75- decomm] Ff, Rowe,+. de-
71. Iras.] Char. Ff, Rowe. contm Cap. et seq. AmuHy'\ Amen, Cap.
/At True Heading 0/ Shakespeare in all the Editions ever yet publish'' d. The ▼olume which followed did not belie this unfortunate title-page ; it achieved Pope's undying enmity, and, for its author, a chief place in The Dunciad, In reference to the pres- ent passage Theobald says (p. 157) in substance: — *The fact is evidently this: Alexas brings a fortune-teller to Iras and Charmian, and says himself, '* We'll know all our fortunes." Well ; the Soothsayer begins with the women ; and some jokes pass upon the subject of husbands and chastity : after which, the women hoping for the satisfaction of having something to laugh at in Alexas' s fortune, call him to hold out his hand, and wish heartily that he may have the prognostication of cuckoldom upon him. The whole speech, therefore, must be placed to Charmian. There needs no stronger proof of this being a true correction, than the observations which Alexas immediately subjoins on their wishes and zeal to hear him abused.' Theobald's Shakespeare Restored was published in 1726 ; two years afterward appeared Pope's Second Edition wherein the Editor was forced to adopt many, very many of Theo- bald's corrections. It looks, in the present passage, as though Pope, smarting under the judicious slashes which Theobald administered, was determined to adopt as little of Theobald's emendation as possible. He therefore omitted the name 'Alexas* altogether, and by Italics tried to make Charmian' s speech apply to him, thus: « Char. Our worser thoughts heav'ns mend. Come, his fortune, his fortune.'— Ed.
65. that cannot go] That is, that cannot have children. Sec N, E. D. s. v. 7.
71, 72. prayer of the people] Thiselton (p. 9) : This seems to mean *that universal prayer.'
74. 75- decorum] Both here and in V, ii, 21, the compositors give this word in Italics, as an indication that it had not yet been adopted into the language. Herein they seem to have followed the prevailing fashion. In a majority of the examples, gathered by the N, E. D. extending from Ascham's Scholemasier, in 1568, down to Shakespeare's time, the word is similarly italicised ; and the Text. Notes above, show that the practice was kept up in all the early editions down to, and including, John- son's.— Ed.
32 THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sc. u.
Char. Amen. 76
Alex. Lo now^ if it lay in their hands to make mee a
Cuckold, they would make themfelues Whores, but
the/ld doo't.
Enter Cleopatra. 80
Enob. Hufti, heere comes Anthony.
CItar. Not he, the Queene.
Cleo. Saue you, my Lord.
Enob. No Lady.
Cleo. Was he not heere? 85
Char. No Madam.
Cleo. He was difposM to mirth, but on the fodaine A Romane thought hath ftrooke him. Enobarbus ?
Enob. Madam. 90
Cleo. Seeke him, and bring him hither: wher's Alexias'^
Alex. Heere at your feruice. My Lord approaches.
Enter Anthony^ with a Meffenger.
Cleo. We will not looke vpon him 2 95
Go with vs. Exeunt.
MeJJen. Fuluia thy Wife, Firft came into the Field. 98
76. Char.] Iras. Rowe ii. Enobarbus! Han. Glo.
Amen] Amen F^, Rowe, Pope. 90. AfadamJ] Meuiaml Dyce, Glo.
77. now^] mw/Cap. 91. Alexias?] F,.
80. [Scene III. Pope, + . 92, 93. One line, Rowe ct seq.
Enter...] Enter... attended (After 92. Heere] Here, lady. Cap. Here,
line 82) Cap. et seq. madam, Steev.
83. Saue you, my] Saw you my Ff et 92, f^"^. feruice. My] service ; see, my
seq. Han.
%T . fodaine] fudden Y ^ ^. 94. Enter...] Enter... and Attendants.
88, 89. -r4... Enobarbus?] One line, Rowe. Enter... and Titius. Kemble.
Rowe et seq. 95, 96. lVe..,vs] One line, Rowe ct
88. Romane] roaming Grey (ii, 191). seq.
AafA] Aad F^, Rowe, Fope^Hzxi, 96. Exeunt.] Exeunt Geop. Eno.
firooke]flruck F^F^. strook Cap. Alex. Iras, Charm. Soothsayer and the
89. Enobarbus?] Enobarbus. Rowe. rest. Cap.
Enobarbus, — Theob. Cap. Knt, Dyce. 97, 98. One line, Rowe et seq.
81. heere comes Anthony] A veiled sneer. Enobarbus knew well enough that it was Cleopatra. — Ed.
95. We will not looke vpon him] Possibly, because he was 'disposed to mirth;' moreover, she was jealous of every thought that he gave to Rome. — Ed.
ACT I, sc. iL] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
33
Ant. Againfl my Brother Lucius ?
Mejfen. I .- but foone that Warre had end^ And the times ftate
Bfade friends of them, ioynting their force 'gainft Cafar^ Whofe better iffue in the warre from Italy, Vpon the firil encounter draue them.
Ant. Well, what word.
Mejf. The Nature of bad newes infefts the Teller.
Ant. When it concemes the Foole or Coward : On. Things that are paft, are done, with me. 'Tis thus. Who tels me true, though in his Tale lye death, I heare him as he flattered.
Me/. Labienus (this is (lifie-newes) Hath with his Parthian Force Extended Afia : from Euphrates his conquering
100
105
no
113
99. Lucius?] Lucius. Ff.
too. /.•] Ay. (separate line), Johns. Ran. Mai. Steev. Knt, Coll. Dyce, Glo.
100-102. Two lines, ending state.,, Otsar Rowe, + , Rau. Mai. Steev. Knt, Coll. Dyce, Glo. Three lines, ending seen... friends... Qesar. Han. Cap.
102. iayniiMg'\ joining Coll. MS ap. Cam.
force 'gain/i'] forces against Han. Gap.
103. ijfue'\ Isse Rowe i (misprint). warre from Italy ^"^ warre of
Italy, FJP^, Rowe, Pope, war, from Italy Han. et seq. (subs. )
105. WeU,'\ Separate line, Han. Cap. StecT.
worft.'\ Ff. worse? Han. Ran. worst ? Rowe et cet
109. his'\ the Rowe ii,+. no. him <m] asifVoi^, Thcob. Han. Warb.
111. this is fliffe-newes] Cm. Han. Gar. Separate line. Cap.
111-115. (this...whil/f\ Lines end force ... Euphrates ... Syria ... Ionia ... whilft Steev. Var. Knt, Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. Lines end force... Euphrates.., Syria, „whilst Coll. Sing. Wh. Ktly.
112. 113. Hath,„Afia'\ One line, Rowe, + , Cap. Var. '73, ^78, Ran. Mai.
113. Extended^ thrd extended Han. Cap.
113, 11^. from, „fhooke'\ His conquer- ing banner from Euphrates shook Han.
1 1 3-1 15. from...whiVff\ Lines end shook . . . Ionia . . . Whilst Pope, + , Cap. Ran. Mai.
loi. the times state] This phrase, when expressed as ' the state of the times,' is familiar enough. — Ed.
103. warre from Italy,] This comma after * Italy ' Hanmer was the first to place properly after * warre.*
III. (this is stiffe-newes)] Capell (i, 27) : If this be meant of the style in which the Messenger couches his news, — and no other meaning presents itself, — there was never a greater truth : The words are expunged in [Hanmer's] edition ; and had been so in this, had they appeared in the light which they now do ; which is that of — a gloss on the other words, put by heedlessness into the manuscript, and creeping thence into print.
113. Extended] Bradley {N. E, D. s. y.) : 11. Law. To take possession of
3
34 THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sc. iL
Banner fhooke^ from Syria to Lydia,
And to lonia^ whil'ft 1 15
Ant. Anthony thou would^ft fay.
Mef. Oh my Lord.
Ant. Speake to me home. Mince not the generall tongue, name
Cleopatra as fhe is call'd in Rome : 120
Raile thou in FtUnids phrafe, and taunt my faults With fuch full Licenfe, as both Truth and Malice Haue power to vtter. Oh then we bring forth weeds. When our quicke windes lye ftill, and our illes told vs 124
1 14, 1 15. from,„I<mia^'\ And Syria^ 12a JJU is] sk^s Rowe ii,+,Cap. Ran. to Lydia and Ionia ; Han. Mai. Steev. Var. Knt, Dyce ii, iii.
115. to Ionia] Ionia Pope, + , Cap. 121. phrafe) praise Gould. 116, /ay.] say^ Theob. et seq. my fmtlts] thy faults YJP^.
(subs.) 124. vnndes]¥^. winds F^F^. mi$tds
117. Oh] Oh, no Ktly. Warb. Han. Ran. MaL Var. '21, Sing.
11^120. Speahe,„Rome] Two lines, Hal. Dyce, Wh. Ktly, Glo. Cam. Coll.
ending tongue, „Rome Rowe et seq. iii, Marshall, Dtn, Hnds. Rife.
(subs.) illes] m Vo^,-\^ .
by a writ of extent ; to seize upon (land, etc. ) in satisfaction for a debt ; to levy upon. b. transferred sense. To seize upon, take possession of, by force. [As in the present line.]
113. Euphrates] The Text. Notes give Keightle3r's division of these lines, but it is not easy to understand from them that it is in order to avoid the pronunciation 'Euphrates* that he reads 'Euphrates and.* Walker (Vers. 172) shows by examples from Drayton, Spenser, Fairfax, and Sylvester that Euphrates, with the accent on the first syllable, was the common Elizabethan pronunciation. [See Ap- pendix, Plutarch.]
124. our quicke windes] Warburton : We should read minds. The m was accidentally turned the wrong way at the press. The sense is this : While the active principle within us lies immerged in sloth and luxury, we bring forth vices instead of virtues, weeds instead of flowers and fruits : But the laying before us our ill condition plainly and honestly is, as it were, the first culture of the mind, which gives hope of a future harvest. This he says to encourage the messenger to hide nothing from him. Capell (i, 27): By 'winds' are meant — friends; persons so truly such, as to remind those they love of their faults ; the observation is certainly just ; and the metaphor in which it is wrap'd, a physical truth ; and that this is a true interpretation, is clear from what immediately follows, — ' and our ills told us, Is as our earing ; ' i. e. — and the telling us our ills or ill actions, is a kind of culture to minds that lie waste ; — still pursuing the image he had borrowed from husbandry. Johnson [reading ' winds'] : The sense is, that roan, not agitated by censure, like soil not ventilated by quick winds, produces more evil than good. Blackstone : I suspect tbnt quick winds is, or is a corruption of, some provincial word, signifying either arabit lands, or the instruments 0/ husbandry used in tilling them. Steevens :
ACT I, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 35
[124. our quicke windes] This conjecture is well foanded. The ridges left in lands turned up by the plough, that thej may sweeten during their fallow state, are still called wind-rows. Quick windSf I suppose to be the same as iteming- /a/laws ; for such fallcws are always fnaifid in weeds, Henlky : When the * quick winds lie still,* that is, m tf mild winter, those weeds which * the tyrannous breathings of the north ' would have cut off, will continue to grow and seed, to the no small detriment of the crop to follow. M. Mason : The words He sHU^ are opposed to earing; quick means pregnant ; and the sense of the passage is : * When our pregnant minds lie idle and untilled, they bring forth weeds; but the telling us of our faults is a kind of culture to them.' The ptonoun our before quiek^ shows that the substantive to which it refers must be some- thing belonging to us, not merely an external object, as the wind is. To talk of quick winds lying stiiit is little better than nonsense. Malonk: Dr Johnson's explanation is certainly true of sail^ but where did Dr Johnson find the word soil in this passage ? He found only winds^ and was forced to substitute soil ventilated hy mnds in the room of the word in the old copy ; as Mr Steevens, in order to extract a meamng finom it, supposes winds to mean to fallows^ because ' the ridges left in lands turned up by the plough, are termed wind-rows ; ' though surely the obvious explication of the latter word, rotos exposed to the windy is the true one. Hence the rows of new-mown grass laid in heaps to dry, are also called wind-rows. Our quick misdsy means, our lively, apprehensive minds. So, in 2 Hen, IV: IV, iii, 107 : ' It ascends me into the brain; — makes it apprehensive, quick^ foigetive.' Again, in this play : ' The quick comedians,* etc. The same error is found in King John, V, vii, 16 where we have, in the only authentick copy : < Death, having prey*d upon the outward parts. Leaves them invisible ; and his siege is now Against the wind,^ Agaix^ in Tro. and Cress. FJF^F^ : < Let it be call' d the mild and wand'ring flood.' Knight [reading * winds '] : When do we ' bring forth weeds ' ? In a heavy and moist season, when there are no * quick winds ' to mellow the earth, to dry up the exuberant moisture, to fit it for the plough. The poet knew the old proverb of the worth of a bushel of March dust ; but * the winds of March,' rough and unpleasant as they are, he knew also produced this good. The quick winds then are the voices which bring us true reports to put an end to our inaction. When these winds lie still we bring forth weeds. But the metaphor is carried farther : the winds have rendered the sofl fit for the plough ; but the knowledge of our own faults,— ills, — is as the ploughing itself, — ^the 'earing.' Coluer [reading 'winds']: Perhaps * winds' ought to be qpelt wints, which in Kent and Sussex is an agricultural term (in other parts of the country called a bout), meaning ' two furrows ploughed by the horses going to one end oi the field and back again.' See Cooper's Sussex Glossary, 1836 ; also Holloway's General Provincial Dictionary, 1838. * Our quick winds,' therefore, is to be understood as our productive soil. * Earing ' is ploughing ; and its use shows that Anthony had agriculture in his thoughts, with reference to ' winds ' or wints. Staunton [reading ' winds '] : Warburton's change is, perhaps, without necessity. ' Quick winds ' may mean quickening winds, and Johnson's explanation of the passage is possibly the true one. Dbighton [reading winds'] : It is when our active minds are allowed to lie untilled by wholesome truths that they shoot up noxious growths, and the telling us of our faults is as the ploughing of the soil which roots up such growths. [To roe an insuperable difficulty in accepting * winds ' is the possessive pronoun 'our.' I do not know what these winds are, which we possess and, if quiescent, suffer us to bring forth weeds. The agency of our reformation comes
36
THE TR AG ED IE OF
[act I, sc it
Is as our earing : iare thee well awhile. 125
Mef. At your Noble pleafure. Exit Meffenger.
Enter another Mejfenger.
Ant. From Scicion how the newes ? Speake there.
I . Mef. The man from Scicion^ Is there fuch an one ? 130
2.Me/. He ftayes vpon your will.
Ant. Let him appeare : Thefe ftrong Eg)rptian Fetters I muft breake. Or loofe my felfe in dotage.
Enter another Mejfenger with a Letter.
What are you ?
I. Me/. Fuluia thy wife is dead. Ant. Where dyed flie.
13s
138
125. earing"] ear-ring ¥y Ear-ring are F^.
awhiW] F,. awhile F,. a while FjF^, Rowe,+, Cap.
126. N<^U] gooilVfords.
Exit...] Om. Rowe. Exit first Messenger. Theob.
127. Enter...] Om. Rowe, Cap. 12S. Scicion] Sicyon Pope.
Scicion how /he] Sicyon, hew the Theob, Warb. Johns. Coll. ii. Sicyon, ho, the Dyce, Wh. Sta. Glo. Sicyon ho / the ColL iii. Scicion now the Coll. MS.
128. Speake"] Speak to him Words.
129. I. Mef.] Mes. Rowe. i. A. Cap.
Z29, 130. The man,. .an onef] One line, Rowe et seq.
130. an one"] a one Cap.
131. 2.Mef.] Attend. Rowe. 2. A. Cap.
your] you F^.
134. loo/e] lo/e F^.
135. Enter...] After line 136, Rowe. After line 133, Coll.
137- 3. Mef.] 2.Mes. Rowe.
to us from without, and even then not by arousing these still winds, but by husbandry. Could Shakespeare, could any one, suppose that weeds were killed by the wind ? more especially by a quick wind, one that is full of life ? And can a wind dis- criminate between weeds and wheat, kill the one and foster the other? Whereas by accepting minds instead of < windes,' all is intelligible : when our active minds are still, conscience sleeps and evil practices abound. — Ed.]
125. Is] Abbott (§ 337): The real nominative is not the noun 'ills,' but the whole noun clause. Thus, * The telling us of our faults is like ploughing us.'
128. From Scicion how the newes ?] Possibly, the reason why Capell did not change this 'how' into ho, as be wisely converted the 'How' of line 153 (thereby anticipating Dyce), was because the sense may here be, 'how is the news from Sicyon ? ' — Ed.
131. vpon] For other examples of the use of ' upon ' involving the idea of waiting on, attending to, etc. see Franz { 344, a. See also II, i, $2, post. Steevens quotes ' Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.' — ^I, iii, 148.
ACT 1, sc ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 37
Mef. In ScicioHj her length of ficknefle. With what elfe more ferious, 140
Importeth thee to know, this beares.
Antho. Forbeare me There's a great Spirit gone, thu s did I defire it : What our contempts doth often hurle from vs, We wifh it ours ag^ne. The prefent pleafure, 145
1 39- 14 1. In „, bears] Lines end, l^^, did Idefire'\I(Urif'dVo^it^li8Ji.
SuyoH„jeriaus.,*bears, Pope et seq. 144. contempts doth"] comtempt doth
141. ImporUth] Importe to F,. Im- Sta. Glo. Rife, Dtn. contempts do Ff port to F^. et cet.
142. [Exit second Messenger. Theob. 145. ours\ out's Coll. il.
143. Spirit] Walkkr {Crit. i, aoi) includes this * Spirit' in his list of numerous passages * in which the disyllabic pronunciation of spirit renders a line positively unmetiical or inharmonious to a degree beyond what the poet's ear could possibly have tolerated.' [From childhood we have been so accustomed to regard sprite as the name of a goblin, that its introduction in a solemn line like the present could hardly fail to have a jarring effect, for which metrical smoothness would be hardly a sufficient compensation. — Ed.]
144. from vs] Walker {Crit. ill, 294) : I suspect a word has dropt out :— < do often hurl from 's, gone We wish it ours again.' [Walker does not quote the pre- ceding line ; had he done so, he would have seen at once that his repetition of ' gone ' rendeis his proposed change extremely doubtful. — Ed.
145. we wish it ours again] Theobald refers to < Virtutem incolumen odimus, Soblatam ex oculis quaerimus invidi.' — Horace, Odes^ III, xxiv, 31. Steevens: Compare, 'We mone that lost, which had we did bemone.' — Sidney's Arcadia^ ii. [p. 148, closing line of chant of Basilius ; ed. 1598. Compare, for the sentiment, 209-211, sfff^rir.— Ed.]
145. The present pleasure, etc] Warburton: The alludon is to the sun's dinmal course ; which rising in the east, and by revolution loztfering, or setting in the west, becomes the opposite of itself, [Rolfe thinks that there is an allusion rather to the turning of a wheel, probably suggested by the familiar * wheel of Fortune.'] Johnson : This is an obscure passage. The explanation which Dr Warburton has ofiered is such, that I can add nothing to it ; yet, perhaps, Shakespeare, who was less learned than his commentator, meant only, that our pleasures, as they are revolved in the mind, turn to pain. Capell (i, 28) : The sentiment contained in the passage that begins with these words is, in the main, no other than that con- tain'd in the general maxim preceding it, and in the reflections with which it is fol- lowed. TOLLET : I rather understand the passage thus : ' What we often cast from us in contempt we wish again for, and what is at present our greatest pleasure, lowers in our estimation by the revolution of time ; or by a frequent return of possession becomes undesirable and disagreeable.' Steevens: I believe revolution means change of circumstances. This sense appears to remove every difHculty from the passage. — * The pleasure of to-day, by revolution of events and change of circum- stances, often loses all its value to us, and becomes to-morrow a pain.' [Knight and Deighton adopt this interpretation of Steevens.]
38 THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sc. ii.
By reuolution lowring^ does become 146
The oppofite of it felfe : (he's good being gon,
The hand could plucke her backe^ that fliouM her on.
I muft from this enchanting Queene breake off,
Ten thou(and harmes, more then the illes I know i^o
My idleneffe doth hatch.
Enter Enobarbus.
How now Enobarbus. Eno. What's your pleafure, Sir?
Anth. I muft with hafte from hence. 155
Eno. Why then we kill all our Women. We fee how
146. ^ttrrMif] Ff, Rowe,-!-. lowering Rowe et seq.
Cap. et cet. 153. How now] How now, F^, Theob.
148. could'\ would Gould. +, Sta. Ho! Cap. Dyce, Hal. Coll. u,
149. onchanting] Om.Ff. Egyptian Wh. i. HownowISHtv. Glo. Wh. ii. Rowe, Fbpe. Ho now ! Coll. ill.
151-153. ^...Enobarbus] One line, 155. hafie\ kafi F^F^.
Z46. By reuolution lowring] Colukr (ed. ii. Reading < By repetition sour- ing ' ) : Our text has been furnished here by the MS and we cannot doubt that it is what the poet wrote. The meaning of course is, that pleasure, souring by repetition, becomes the reverse of itself. The old compositor misread ' repetition * rtvoUUian^ and ' sowering ' (as the word was then often ^pelt) lowering, and thus made almost nonsense of the whole passage. The restoration by the old annotator can hardly have been a mere guess. [We are willing, all of us, upon a compelling occasion, to listen with condescending benignity to almost any emendation of the text of Shake- speare, but — we must draw the line at souring, — a repuUive word, and worse than a wilderness of flies in the apothecary's ointment In his Third Edition Collier returned to the received text, but remarked in a footnote diat the reading of the MS < is perhaps right.' See note on Daniel's Cleopatra, Appendix, p. 515. — Ed.]
148. could plucke] Heath : The verb could hath a peculiar signification in this place ; it doth not denote power but inclination. The sense is, * the hand that drove her off would now willingly pluck her back again.'
150. hannes, more] I doubt the propriety of this comma, which has been uni- formly adopted, I believe. I think the sense is : My idleness hatches ten thousand more unknown harms than the ills I see at hand. — Ed.
153. How now] Dyce {Notes, p. 150): It would be impossible, I presume, to point out, in any old writer, an instance of < How now 1 ' used as the exclamation of a person summoning another into his presence. Here the right reading is indubitably, — * Ho, Enobarbus ! ' I have already shewn [in a note on Love's Lab. Lost, V, ii, 45, quoted ad loc, in this edition — Ed.] that * ho^ was very frequently spelt * how :^ and the probability is that in the present passage the author's manuscript had *hcw ; ' to which either some transcriber or the original compositor, who did not understand what was meant, added 'now' (making the line over-measure). [Dyce in his edition, printed four years after his Notes, acknowledged that he was unaware, when he wrote the foregoing note, that he had been therein anticipated by Capell.]
ACT I, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 39
mortall an vnkindnefle is to them, if they fuffer our de- 157 parture death's the word.
Ant. I muft be gone.
Eno. Vnder a compelling an occafion, let women die. 160 It were pitty to call them away for nothing, though be- tweene them and a great caufe, they fhould be eileemed nothing. Cleopatra catching but the lead noyfe of this, dies inftantly : I haue feene her dye twenty times vppon iarre poorer moment : I do think there is mettle in death, 165 which commits fome louing a6le vpon her, (he hath fuch a celerity in dying.
Ant. She is cunning pad mans thought.
Eno. Alacke Sir no, her paflions are made of nothing but the fineft part of pure Loue. We cannot cal her winds 170 and waters, fighes and teares : They are greater ilormes and Tempeils then Almanackes can report. This cannot 172
160. a compelling an\ a compelling Nicholson ap. Ctm. Rowe et seq. as compelling an Anon. 167. celerity] alacrity Han.
ap. Cam. Thiselton. so compelling an 169. no^"] no; Theob.
15S. the word] Dkighton: That is, the watch- word on erery lip. Compare Jul, Qts, V, ▼, 4; — 'slaying is the word;' Cor, III, ii, 142: *The word is "mildly." * [See also, 'you were the word of warre,* II, ii, 57.]
165. poorer moment] Johnson : For less reason ; upon meaner motives.
165. mettle] Tuisklton (p* 9) : The metaphor is probably taken from the load- itone. ' Aimant ' is the French word for magnet
170, 171. her winds and waters, sighes and teares] Malone: I once idly supposed that Shakespeare wrote — * We cannot call her sighs and tears, winds and waters ; ' — which is certainly the phraseology we should now use. . . . The passage, however, may be understood without any inversion. ' We cannot call the damoiur- oos heavings of her breast, and the copious streams which flow from her eyes, by the ordinary name of sighs and tears ; they are greater storms,' etc. [It is doubtful that Zachary Jackson, or his copesmate Andrew Becket, or Lord Chedworth, who makes a good third, ever wrote a more trying note than this of Malone. In supposing this sentence of Enobarbus to be inverted, Malone betrayed his misapprehension of its meaning, and I think that he made his feeble conjecture before he had read the rest of the speech. If, in speaking of Mont Blanc we should say ' we cannot call Mont Blanc a molehill ' is there any phraseology of any time or of any people in which this expression would be termed an inversion? However, before he finished his comment Malone discovered his error, but he should have cancelled the first por- tion of his note. — Ed.]
172. Almanackes can report] Halliwell quotes at length Sordido*s consul- tation of a ' prognostication ' wherein the wind and rain and blustering storms are duly foretold for each day of the month, in Jonson's Every man out of his Humour ^ I, i.
40 THE TRACE DIE OF [act i, sc. iL
be cunning in her ; if it be, fhe makes a fhowre of Raine 173 as well as loue.
Ant. Would I had neuer feene her. 175
Eno. Oh fir, you had then left vnfeene a wonderful! peece of worke, which not to haue beene bleft withall, would haue difcredited your Trauaile.
Ant. Fuluia is dead.
Eno. Sir. 180
Ant. Fuluia is dead.
Eno. Fuluia ?
Ant, Dead.
Eno. Why fir, giue the Gods a thankefull Sacrifice : when it pleafeth their Deities to take the wife of a man 185 from him, it fhewes to man the Tailors of the earth: com-
175. IVould^ ' IVmld Theob. + , Mai. Glo. Cam.
Steev. Klly. 186. iijhewes] they shew Han.
178. TraMaiU\ Travel Y^^. TaiUrs} tailor Pope, Theob.
180. 5fV.] Sir! F^, Rowe,+. SirJ Han.
Cap. et seq. (subs.) i86, 187. comforting] comforting him
182. Fuluia ?] Fuhia ! Dyce, Coll. Rowe, Pope, Han. Warb.
177. peece of worke] Note the critical eye which appreciates Cleopatra as a piece of mechanism to be classed with other wonders. — Ed.
186. it shewes, etc.] Johnson: I have printed this after the original, which, though harsh and obscure, I know not how to amend. I think the passage, with less alteration [than Hanmer's], for alteration is always dangerous, may stand thus — ' It shows to men the tailors of the earth, comforting them,' etc. Capell (i, 28) : • It ' stands for — this action of theirs : His * tailors * are women, the artificers of other women ; and in that lies the comfort he speaks of ; for * when old robes are worn out,* that is — when an old wife is carried to her grave, * there are members' {videlicet^ of the community) still left * to make * newer and fresher. Malone : When the deities are pleased to take a man's wife from him, this act of theirs makes them appear to man like the tailors of the earth : affording this comfortable reflection, that the deities have made other women to supply the place of his fonner wife ; as the tailor, when one robe is worn out, supplies him with another. Anon. [Kir. '21] : The meaning is this — *As the gods have been pleased to take away your wife Fulvia, so they have provided you with a new one in Cleopatra ; in like manner as the tailors of the earth, when your old garments are worn out, accommodate you with new ones. Hudson : * Shews * them to him in the sense, probably, of sending him to them, or putting him upon using their service. The shrewd humourist means to insinuate, I take it, that a wife of long standing is something like an out-worn dress ; and that a change every little while in that behalf is as pleasant as having a new suit of clothes. Was the naughty wag an advocate of free-love ? Antony winces under the cutting irony of his talk. Deighton detects in * there are members * a 'probable allusion to the scriptural narrative of Eve being made out of one of
ACT I, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA 41
forting therein, that when olde Robes are wome out, 187
there are members to make new. If there were no more
Women but Ftdtdaj then had you indeede a cut, and the
cafe to be lamented: This greefe is crownM with Confo- 190
lation, your old Smocke brings foorth a new Petticoate,
and indeed the teares liue in an Onion, that fhould water
this forrow.
Ant. The bufineflfe fhe hath broached in the State, Cannot endure my abfence. 195
Eno. And the bufineffe you haue broachM heere can- not be without you, efpecially that of Cleopatra^Sy which wholly depends on your abode.
AnL No more light Anfweres : Let our Officers 200
Haue notice what we purpofe. I fhall breake The caufe of our Expedience to the Queene, 202
188. memb<rs\ rmmbers Han. 197. you,"] you; Theob. et seq.
190. ca/g] case were Rowe, +. Cleopatra* j] Cleopatra Han.
191. foorth'\ fourth F,. forth FJF , 198. abode"] aboad F^F^, Rowe, Pope, 194. broached] broached Rowe li, Theob. Han. Warb.
Pope, brocuhid Dyce. 199. light] like Ff, Rowe.
196. broached] broached Knt^ Coll. 199, 200. One line, Rowe et seq.
197. be] be done Anon. ap. Cam. 201. purpofe] propofe F^F^.
Adam's ribs. Orger (p. 96) : Enobarbos, I fancy, is alluding to the Destinies or Fates with their shears and thread, and grotesquely calls them the * Tailors of the Earth,' whose business it is to mend old clothes, or make new. This, I think, is foither supported by words following, *Then had you a cut indeed.' I would acoofdingly propose menders for 'members.*
189. a cut] Thisklton (p. 9) : This word has here a double meaning: (i) stroke or blow; (2) shape or fashion,
192. teares liue] Walker in his Article, xa, on * Lie and live confounded * (Crit. ii, 209) quotes this line, and adds, « Surely lie* [Can there be detected an improvement in lie over * live * ? Indeed, lie lacks the active vitality which seems inherent in * live.' Enobarbus seems to be unusually familiar with the effect of an onioo on the lachrymal glands. He refers to it again in IV, ii, 47. — Ed.]
202. Expedience] Schmidt {Lex.) gives to this word the two meanings of i) haste and 2) expedition, enterprise, campaign and under each meaning gives two examples, namely, under l) : *are making hither with all due expedience.' — Rich. II: II, iy 287; and 'will with all expedience charge on us.' — Hen, V: IV, iii, 70. Under 2) : 'what our council did decree in forwarding this dear expedience.' — / ffem, IV: I, i, 33 ; and the present line. So nice is the distinction between these two meanings that it is not easy to decide that the present instance does not come voder the head of hcute. — Ed.
42 THE TRACED IE OF [act i. sc. iL
And get her loue to part. For not alone 203
The death of Ftduia^ with more vrgent touches
Do ftrongly fpeake to vs : but the Letters too 205
Of many our contriuing Friends in Rome^
Petition vs at home. Sextus Pampems TOJ
203. loue\ love Ff, Rowe, Cap. Var. 205. Do] Doth Han. Dtfs Heath. Ran. Mai. Steev. Var. Knt, Coll. i. leave to vs] fui Pope, +.
Pope,+, Dyce, Hal. Wh.Coll. ii, iii(MS), 206. contriuing] continuing Gould. Glo. Sta. Ktly, Rife.
203. loue] Capkll (i, 28) : Thej who alter* d ' love ' into leave had not reflected sufficiently, who the person is that they gave it to : the person is Antony ; Antony coming to himself, and beginning to think rather seriously ; who, in that disposition, must be supposed to consider his own dignity, of which the word leave is an evident breach ; it seems indeed to have been avoided with some study ; and * love,* a less natural expression, substituted for it : the sense we must take the words in, is as fol- lows : — and get her, whose love is so great for me, to consent to my parting. Malonk : If the old copy be right, the words must mean, I will get her love to permit and endure our separation. But the word get connects much more naturally with the word Uave than with love. The same error has happened in TU, And. and there- fore I have no longer any doubt that Uave was Shakespeare's word. In that play we find : * He loves his pledges dearer than his life,* instead of — * He leaves^ — [Hit i, 292. Dyce adopts this conclusion of Malone.] Stekvkns : The old reading may mean : — ' And prevail on her love to consent to our separation.' [Thus Knight substantially. The original text is not, to me, sufficiently obscure to justify a change. Capell's reason is weighty, and, in addition, it seems somewhat absurd in Anthony to send notice to his officers of his intention, and to all his subordinates of his * quicke remoue from hence,* and then to say that he would get Qeopatra*8 leave to depart. * Durior lectio preferenda est' — Ed.]
204. more vrgent touches] Johnson : Things that touch me more sensiUy, more pressing motives.
206. our contriuing Friends] Walker (Crit, i, 163) : 'Contriving* here is not managing or plotting^ but sojourning: conterentes tempus. See Tarn, Skr, I, iL Murray (A''. E, D. s. v. Contrive, v». obs.) : Apparently irregularly formed on Latin contrivif pret of conterere to wear away ; cf. contrite^ contrition ; perhaps associated by translators with • contrive* to invent, etc. Transitive, To wear down, wear away, consume, spend ; to pass, employ (time). Cf. * Please ye we may contrive this afternoon.*— Tbm. Skr, I, ii, 276. [The context is not, I think, in Walker's favour. It was not for the sake of Anthony's company that his friends, who happened to be sojourning in Rome, petitioned him at home, but much was breeding that might endanger the sides of the world, and Anthony's presence was needed to encourage those friends, who were looking after his interests. This seems, I think, to favour the usual meaning of 'contriving.' — Ed.]
206. Rome] Walker (Crit, i, 163): Pkonounce *Rome,' as usual, Room; this removes the jingle between * Rome * and * home.*
207. Petition vs at home] Johnson : Wish us at home ; call for us to reside at home.
ACT I. sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 43
Haue giuen the dare to Ca/arj and commands 208
The Empire of the Sea. Our flippery people,
Whofe Loue is neuer linked to the deferuer, 210
Till his deferts are paft, begin to throw
Pampey the great, and all his Dignities
Vpon his Sonne, who high in Name and Power,
Higher then both in Blood and Life, flands vp
For the maine Souldier. Whofe quality going on, 215
The fides oWworld may danger. Much is breeding,
Which like the Couriers heire, hath yet but life.
And not a Serpents poyfon. Say our pleafure.
To fuch whofe places vnder vs, require
Our quicke remoue from hence. 220
ao8. Haue\ Hath Ff et seq. Pope, Theob. i, Han. Waib. Say our
the dare] thee dare Y^^, pleasure Johns. Say^ our pleasure Vwc,
209. JUppery] s&pfry Rowe, + . '73. Say^ our pleasure, Theob. ii et cct.
213. Scmu,'\ Ff, Rife, son; Rowe 219. who/e places] whdve places VL, «t cet. Mason.
315. puUity'] quality^ Cap. et seq. places. ..require] Ff, Johns, places
116. dth*] oth* Ff. ...requires Var.'72. place is.. .requires
tlj. heire] hare F^F^. hair Rowe. Ff, Rowe et cet
218. Say our plea/ure,] Ff, Rowe,
210, 211. Whose Loue . . . deserts are past] See line 145, above.
214, 215. stands vp For the maine Souldier] < Stands up ' is here used as in 'We stand op peerless,' I, i, 53. For other instances of < main,' in the sense o{ first iu iw^ortance, chief, see Schmidt, Lex.
216. sides o'th'world] This same phrase is used in Cymb. Ill, i, 51, also, to dpress the Tastness of the Roman empire.
217. Coursers heire] Theobald : Holinshed in his Description of England, [Third booke, Chap, iii, p. 224, ed. 1587] has this remark : 'yet it is beleeued with no lease assurance of some, than that an horse haire laid in a pale full of the like water will in short time stirre and become a lining creature. But sith the certeintie of these things is rather prooued by few than the certeintie of them knowne vnto nanie, I let it passe at this time.' Coleridge (p. 317) : This is so far true to appearance, that a horse-hair. Maid,' as Holinshed says, Mn a pail of water,' will become the supporter of seemingly one worm, though probably of an immense num- ber of small shiny water-lice. The hair will twirl round a finger, and sensibly com- press it It is a common experiment with school boys in Cumberland and West- moreland. Hudson (p. 20) : I remember very well when the same thing was believed by children in Vermont
219. places] An error of the ear, not of the eye.— Ed.
22a Our quicke remoue] Johnson : I believe we should read : • Their quick remove.' Tell our design of going away to those, who, being by their places obliged to attend ns, must remove in haste.
44
THE TRACED IE OF
[act I, sc. iii.
Enob, I fhall doo't.
\Scene III.\
Enter Cleopatra^ Charnuan^ AlexaSy and Iras.
Cleo. Where is he ?
Char. I did not fee him fince.
Cleo. See where he is, Whofe with him, what he does : I did not fend you. If you finde him fad, Say I am dauncing : if in Myrth, report That I am fodaine ficke. Quicke, and retume.
Char. Madam, me thinkes if you did loue him deerly. You do not hold the method, to enforce The like from him.
Cleo. What fhould I do, I do not ?
221
5
lO
12
221. IJkatt^ rn Pope, + . Sir, I Mtf// Words.
dodt^ doct F,. do it, sir Ktly. do ii Nicholson ap. Cam.
Scene IV. Pope, + . Scene III. Cap. etseq.
The same. Another Room. Cap.
[Tripods, Vases for perfumes. Grecian Statue of Antonywith attributes of Her- odes, Egyptian Sofas, Tables, Chairs, Musical Instruments, Books in Rolls, Kemble.
1. Enter... Alexas, and Iras.] Enter ...Iras, and Alexas. Cap.
2. he ?"] he now? Sleev. conj. he, Charmian f Anon. ap. Cam.
3. /] Madam, /Walker.
4. 5. One line, Rowe et seq.
4. [To Alexas. Sta.
5. Whofe'\ WhdsYi,
7. dauncing'\ dancing F^F^.
8. fodaine"] fudden F,F^.
Quicke] Quickly Ff, Rowe. [Exit Alexas. Cap.
3. since] Abbott ({ 62) : < Since ' when used adverbially as well as conjunction- ally, frequently takes the verb in the simple past where we use the complete present, [as in the present phrase]. This is in accordance with an original meaning of the word, later {* sith * ). We should still say, ' I never saw him afier that ; * and • since ' has the meaning of after. [See also { 347, for examples of the simple past, * did * for complete present with < since,' etc.]
4-8. See . . . sicke] Mrs Jameson (ii, 126) : The whole secret of her absolute dominion over the facile Antony may be found in this one little speech. [I think that this assertion is a little too sweeping. In mere opposition there can hardly be 'infinite variety.*— Ed.]
6. I did not send jrou] Johnson : You must go as if you came without my order or knowledge.
9, 10. if you did . . . You do not] Deighton : The irregular sequence of tenses here is due to the stress which Charmian wishes to lay upon the fact that Cleopatra could not possibly love Anthony ; * if you do love him * would have meant * if you love, which is possible, though doubtful * ; • if you did love * means * if you loved, which is evidently not the case.'
ACT 1. sc. iiL] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 45
C%.In each thing giue him way^crofTe him in nothing.
Cleo. Thou teacheft like a foolerthe way to lofe him.
Char. Tempt him not fo too farre. I wifli forbeare, 15
In time we hate that which we often feare.
Enter Anthony. But heere comes Anthony.
Cleo. I am ficke^ and fuUen.
An. I am fony to giue breathing to my purpofe. 20
Cleo. Helpe me away deere Channian^ I fliall fall,
14. teacheft, .,fooU:^ teachest, like a 17. Enter...] After line 1 9, DjrcCjSta. fM^ Johns. Coll. i,ii, Hal. Sing. Ktly. 19. I am\ Pm Popc, + . ieackest,..foal, — Dyce, Sta. 2a purpofe, '\ purpose^ — Cap. Coll.
15. wifli\ F(, Johns, /wis Anon. ap. et seq. Cam. wisAf Rowe et cet.
14. teachest like a foole:the way, etc.] Collier (ed. ii) claims for his ponc- tnation (also that of his MS) a priority over all editions ; the Text, Nates show that it had been adopted by Johnson. Collier, with pardonable zeal, pronounces the panctoation of his MS a decided improvement on that of the Folio, of which, he says, ' there can be no dispute that [its] mode of pointing the passage is wrong,' — an assertion, on the port of a veteran editor, so strange, that though it stands off as gross as black and white, my eye will scarcely see it. As if there were a phrase, a word, a comma in Shakespeare about which ' there can be no dispute ' ! And, moreover. Collier was unfortunate in making so extravagant a claim for his MS in this passage, of all passages, where the majority of editors in favour of the original punctuation is so very heavy. The majority has not erred, I think. Never would Cleopatra have uttered so tame, so dispassionate a sentence as that which Collier and his MS offer to us: * thou teachest, like a fool, the way to lose him.' If the Folio eiT in punctuation, it errs on the side of moderation. Instead of a colon after ' foole/ I think a period would be better. — Ed.
15. too farre] Abbott ({ 434) holds this to be a compound epithet: too-far. 15. wish forbeare] Staunton : That is, I commend forbearance. Keightlky
(Exp. 31 1): 'Wish' here signifies recommend^ adi/ise. I think we should read 'wish^'tfM* [so reads Keightley's text], as it is always followed by its object when used in this sense. John Hunter : Forbear is my wish. The verb 'forbear' is here in the imperative mood. Deighton : An elliptical expression for ' I should like to see yon forbear to tiy him so far.' [The paraphrases just given are all of them obyious, but none of them supplies the strength, which the weak expression, 'I wish, forbear' lacks. It is this weakness, this childishness, almost infantile, which renders the words suspicious, so it seems to me. Nicholson's conjecture, recorded in the Cam. Ed,^ 'the wish forbear' is plausible, and is certainly stronger than the weak 'I wish.' It is better than his alternative conjecture, 'your wish, forbear.' Weakness is, however, no sufficient ground for disturbing the text. — Ed.] 19. sullen] Into this word we may read all the moods most unlovely in woman, from waspishness to gloomy malignity. ' O ! ' exclaims Coleridge, ' the instinctive propriety of Shakespeare in the choice of words.' — Ed.
46 THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sc. iiL
It cannot be thus long^ the fides of Nature 22
Will not fuftaine it.
Ant. Now my deereft Queene.
Cleo. Pray you ftand farther from mee. 25
Ant. What's the matter ?
Cleo.Y know by that fame eye therms fome good news. What fayes the married woman you may goe ? Would fhe had neuer giuen you leaue to come. 29
22. [Seeming to fiuQt Rowe,+. 26. maiUr] marter ¥ ^,
24. deereft'\dearefiY^. dereftY^, 28. What^ What I Y^
Queene, ] Queen, — Theob. et seq. woman . . .goe /] Ff. woman /. . .
25. farther] furtherStt^,VBx, Dyce. go; Rowe et seq.
27. that same eye ther's some good news] This is a wiliiil and highly irritating misinterpretation of Anthony's expression. His looks had been, of coarse, downcast, as befitted words which he was * sorry to breathe.' Qeopatra had instantly divined his * porpose/ and conjectured the purport of his message from Rome ; she resolved, therefore, that before Anthony could declare it, he should be ' chafed * almost beyond endurance ; then, by tenderly yielding, she knew that she could bind him to her more strongly than ever. She begins, accordingly, by wilfully misinterpreting his looks. — Ed.
28. What sayes the married woman you may goe ?] Thiselton (p. 9) : To punctuate this line as it is done both in the Globe and Oxford editions is to spoO the antithesis between it and the next. ' What ' is exclamatory and expresses surprise : (you don't mean to tell me.' It is to be observed that Qeopatra as yet knows nothing of the nature of the news from Rome which had aroused Anthony. She had only concluded < A Romane thought hath strooke him ' from a sudden subsidence of his mirth, and she infers that the news probably involves his speedy departure, and is really welcome to him as importing reconciliation with Csesar. Fulvia and Lucius had been at war with the latter, and Qeq>atra believes or pretends to believe that it has been Fulvia's wish that Anthony should keep out of the way, and that it was merely owing to this that he was able to dance attendance on herself. [Rowe's division of the line seems to me to be right ; but the interrogation mark of the Folios at the end should have been retained. The line contains the two questions : < What says the married woman ? ' and, in effect, * Does she give you leave to go ? ' Then follows the antithesis, * Would she had never given you leave to come 1 ' — Ed.]
28, 29. What sayes the married woman . . . leaue to come] Th. Zieunski (Philologust 1905, Bd. Ixiv, Hft. i, p. 17): In this farewell scene between Anthony and Clec^tra Shakespeare had in mind Ovid's Epistle of Dido to ASneas, First of all, the situations are exactly analogous, as every one may see at once ; even the Poet himself acknowledges it, where he says : ' Dido and her MatAS shall want troops,' etc. IV, xiv, 64. Shakespeare's Qeopatra is developed psychologically, not from the Vergilian, but from the Ovidian Dido ; from the latter she derives her nervousness, although she derives from the English poet, — or rather from Plutarch, — that fatal admixture of instinctive, foxlike slyness, which Ovid's heroine lacks. Special points of resemblance the student will find for himself; the most noteworthy
ACT I, sc. iu.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA 47
Let her not fay 'tis I that keepe you heere. 30
I haue no power vpon you : Hers you are.
Ant. The Gods bell know.
CUo. Oh neuer was there Queene So mightily betrayed : yet at the fitfl , I CeIw the Treafons planted. 35
Ant. Cleopatra.
Cleo. Why fhould I thinke you can be mine, & true^ (Though you in fwearing fhake the Throaned Gods) Who haue beene (alfe to Fuluia ? 39
32. know,"] knawi — Theob. et seq. 36. Cleopatra] Cleopatra^ — Theob.
(sobs.) et seq.
34. betrayed'\ betray dYo^^\,vtx\, 38. in /wearing] /wearing ¥1, rviih fitjf\ F,. swearing Rowe, 4 .
35. Trea/om\ treason Walker (Crii, Throa$ud] F,. Throned Yf^, i, 146). 39, 40. One line, Rowe et seq.
planted) planned Warb. (N, 6* 39. heene'] bin F,.
Qn. Vni, iii, 262).
oocitrs in line 139 of Grid's Epistola VII: Dido jEnea: — *Sed jubet ire deus. Vellcm vetnisset adiie.' [Undoubtedly, in this one solitary line there is foond a notable parallelism between Dido's words and Cleopatra's; but the antithesis be- tween going and coming is in itself so marked that it might almost be said to be one of dail J use. As to the ' special points of resemblance which the student will 6nd for himself,' I can merely humbly acknowledge that I have scmtinized closely every line of Ovid's Epistle, and if there be another parallelism there, it has escaped me. Not so, however, Zielinski ; one passage there is whereto he detects a second parallel in this present scene. The passage is, I suppose, for he does not specify it : — ' Forsttan et gravidam Dido, scelerate, relinquas, Parsque tui lateat cor- poie clansa meo.' — 123, 124. This * clausa pars' Zielinski finds in the 'one word,' which Cleopatra is at a loss to pronounce, in lines 108-1x3, until at last Zielinski leveols it for her in ' Oh, my oblivion is a very Anthony, ' Thereupon, after a little gentle derision of the commentators for their obtuseness, he finds further confirmation where Qeopatra says, ' 'Tis sweating labour To bear such idleness so near the heart , As Cleopatra this, ' ' This,^ Zielinski suggests, was accompanied by <a discreet sig- nificant gesture ; ' deucriiui^f as Aristotle has it. * Verily,' he says, in conclusion, ' a poet understands a poet better than the critics understand him ; I refer to Puschkin, who has openly imitated these words of Cleopatra in a passage in his lovely ** Nixe " (Rnaalka) : **Flirst, Leb' wohl — Mddchen. Nein, wart . . . ich muss dir etwas sagen . . . Weiss nimmer, was. FUrst, So denke nach 1 Mddchen, FQr dich Wftr ich bereit . . . Nein, das ist's nicht ... So wart doch. Ich kann's nicht glauben, dass du mich auf ewig Verlassen willst . . . Nein, dass ist's immer nicht . . . Jetzt hab' ich's : heut war's, dass mm ersten Mai Dein Kind sich unter'm Herzen mir bewegte . . . '" I leave this untranslated. For those who read German, a translation is needless, and for those who do not, the loss is less than trifling. I think I ought to add that Warburton appears to have had the same idea as Zielinski. See note 1 14-1 16 in/ra, — Ed.] 31. vpon] For the various uses of 'upon,' see Abbott, { Z91.
48 THE TR AGED IE OF [act i, sc iii.
Riotous madnefle, 40
To be entangled with thofe mouth-made vowes. Which breake themfelues in fwearing.
Ant. Moft fweet Queene.
CUo. Nay pray you feeke no colour for your going, But bid farewell, and goe : 45
When you fued flaying, Then was the time for words : No going then. Eternity was in our Lippes, and Eyes, Blifle in our browes bent : none our parts fo poore. But was a race of Heauen. They are fo ftill, 50
Or thou the greateft Souldier of the world. Art tumM the greateft Lyar.
Ant. How now Lady ?
Cleo. I would I had thy inches, thou (hould'ft know There were a heart in Egypt. 55
40. madnejjfe^ nuidness I Rowe, Pope, ^3^4* ^^^^-^ ^^^ Rowe, -H . brows^ Han.
Han. bnnv^ bent^ Johns, brows* bent; Cap.
43. Qtuem."] Queen. ¥^^, Queen, — et cet
Theob. et seq. 49. none our\ none of our Han. Ktly.
45, 46. One line, Rowe et seq. 50. race^ ray Han.
49. browes bent :'\ F,. brows bent: $2. g^reatefi"] greater Ff, Jiowc, "Popt.
40. Riotous madnesse] This is her own self-reproach.
49. browes bent] Steevens : That is, the arch of the eye-brows. So, in ITing' John : * Why do you bend such solemn brows on me ? * — IV, ii, 90. Schmidt (Z^x. 5. V, Bent. 3) interprets it as meaning the whole forehead.
49. none our parts] For other instances of the use of certain adjectives, like 'none,' as * pronouns, in a manner different from modem usage,* see Abbott, § 12.
50. race of Heauen] Warburton : That is, had a smack or flavour of heaven. Johnson : < Race ' is well explained by Warburton ; the * race ' of wine is the taste of the soil. M ALONE : I am not sure the poet did not mean, ' was of heavenly origin.' John Hunter : ' Race ' is a suspicious word here, for which I would venture to sub- stitute trace, ... It should be remarked, however, that * race ' had for one of its meanings smack or relish. [Between the two interpretations of Warburton and Malone subsequent editors have been pretty evenly divided. Warburton carelessly wrote * had a smack ' instead of < was a smack ; * possibly, this weakened his general acceptance, but needlessly, I think. < Race ' was undoubtedly applied, in Shake- speare's day, to the flavour of wine. Craigie (iV. E. D. s. v. Race, sb.* 10) gives among others a quotation from Massinger: 'A pipe of rich Canary ... Is it of the right race.' — Niew fVay, I, iii. This justifies Warburton's interpretation oi flavour. Geopatra says, in effect, there was no single feature, however insignificant, but was of a flavour, or, was the very flavour of heaven. The objection to Malone' s inter- pretation seems to me to lie in the difficulty of accepting any one single feature as a * race ' whether of heaven or of earth. — Ed.]
ACT I, sc. ill] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 49
Ant. Heare me Queene .• 56
The ftrong neceflity of Time, commands Our Seruides a-while : but my full heart Remaines in vfe with you. Our I taly,
Shines o're with ciuill Swords ; Sextus Pompeius 60
Makes his approaches to the Port of Rome, Equality of two Domefticke powers, Breed fcrupulous faction : The hated growne to ftrength Are newly growne to Loue 2 The condemned Pompey^ Rich in his Fathers Honor, creepes apace 65
Into the hearts of fuch, as haue not thriued Vpon the prefent flate,whofe Numbers threaten, 67
5S. StruuUs\ services Ff. 63. Breed^ Ff, Var. *2i, Dyce, Glo.
a'wkiU\ Tbeob. ii, Warb. Johns. Cam. Whi ii. Breeds Pope et ceL
a wkiU Ff, Cap. Ran. Mai. Wh. i. awhile hated, „^rengtk] hated, . . ^strength,
Rowe, Pope, Theob. i, Han. Steev. CoIL Rowe et seq.
et seq. 65. Honorl hommr Yl,
61. approeuhes\ approches F,. apace'\ a pace F^F^.
Rome^ Rome, Rowe et seq. 66. thriued 1 thrh^n Rowe, + .
59. in vse] Johnson : The poet seems to allude to the legal distinction between ' lue ' and absolute possession, 60 cioiU Swords] That is, swords drawn in civil war.
61. Port of Rome] Dyce ( Gloss.) That is, the gate of Rome.
62. 63. Equality . . . powers, Breed] ' Breed ' is here plural by attraction from 'powers.' Abbott ({ 4x2) calls it 'confusion by proximity* and gives many examples to which more could be added. Compare, ' the voyce of all the Gods, Make heauen drowsie,' etc. — Lov^s Lab, Lost, of this edition, where the subject is discussed. — Ed.
63. Bcmpolous] Schmidt (Lex, ) That is, prying too nicely into the merits of either cause. Century Dictionary (s, v. 2 f ; where the only example is the present passage) : Given to making objections ; captious. Hudson : The opposing parties were rigidly sifting each other's claims,
66. as] The / in this word, which is distinct in the almost perfect Reprint of F,, published by Booth, is reduced to a mere scratch in Staunton's Photolithography and, in my copy of the original, has disappeared altogether. — Ed.
67. present state, whose Numbers threaten] Staunton {Athen, 12 April, 1873) : Should we not read (placing a period after ' present state,*) ' War's numbers threaten' ? ' Numbers ' was a term commonly used to express an armed force ; and the next line, — * quietness grown sick of rest/ — bespeaks an antithesis between Peace and War. Compare the whole speech, where the sentences are framed short and magniloquent, to imitate the ' Asiatic ' style, which, as Shakespeare learned from Plutarch, Antony affected. [See Appendix, Plutarch.')^
67. whose Numbers] For a grammatically interesting discussion of the Shake- spearian usage of relative pronouns, with a special reference to the use of that and who, which, with numerous examples, see Franz, { 206.
4
50 THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sc. iu.
And quietneffe growne ficke of reft, would purge 68
By any defperate change : My more particular, And that which moft with you (hould fafe my going, 70
Is Fuluias death.
CZf^.Though age from folly could not giue me freedom It does from childifhnefTe. Can Fultda dye?
Ant She's dead my Queene. Looke heere, and at thy Soueraigne leyfure read 75
The Garboyles (he awak'd : at the laft, beft,
70. /tf/r]/tft;^F^,Rowe. jaA/^Theob. 76. bgfi^'] Ff, Johns. Var. '73, Coll.
Pope ii, Han. Warb. Sta. Ktly, Wh. i, Rife, best, Rowe,+.
75* Soturaigne\ Souerarpu Sta. Pho- best: Cap. Var. '78, '85, Mai. Ran. Steev. tolitk. Var. Knt, Sing. Dycc, Glo. Cam. Wh.
ii, Irv. Dtn. Huds.
68. purge] Schmidt (Lex.) : That is (thus used intransitively), to be cured, to be restored to health.
69. more particular] That is, what is more especially my own personal, private reason. This is an unusual use of the comparative. Murray {N. E. D, s. v. Ill, B, t 6) quotes from the 6rst line of Heminge and CondelPs Epistle DediccUorit in the First Folio : ' Whilst we studie to be thankful in our particular,' etc. Schmidt (Lex.) gives ' who loved him in a most dear particular, — Ccr. V, i, 3, where it is • dear' that is compared, not * particular.' See IV, iz, 24, < in thine own particular,' where it means, < in thine own special person.' — Ed.
70. should safe my goixig] Abbott (§ 290) : It may be said that any noun or adjective could be converted into a verb by the Elizabethan authors, generally in an active signification [as * safe ' in this present line, where the meaning is], * make my departure unsuspected by you of dangerous consequences.'
73. Can Fuluia dye?] Steevens : That Fulvia was mortal, Cleopatra could have no reason to doubt ; the meaning therefore of her question seems to be : * Will there ever be an end of your excuses ? As often as you want to leave me, will not some Fulvia, some new pretext be found for your departure ? ' She has already said that though age could not exempt her from follies, at least it freed her from a childish belief in all he says. Ritson : I am inclined to think, that Cleopatra means no more than — Is it possible that Fulvia should die ? I will not believe it Malone : Though age has not exempted me from folly, I am not so childish, as to have appre- hensions from a rival that is no more. And is Fulvia dead indeed ? Such, I think, is the meaning. Mrs Jameson (ii, 128) : Cleopatra recovers her dignity for a moment at the news of Fulvia' s death, as if roused by a blow. And then follows the artful mockery with which she tempts and provokes him, in order to discover whether he regrets his wife. [It is extremely difficult to decide on which one of these three words the emphasis should be laid ; each can appropriately bear it. It 18 even more difficult than Lady Macbeth* s, * We fail ! * Possibly, none should be emphasized, but each uttered slowly, after a pause, as though the speaker were revolving many things in her mind. — Ed.]
76. Qarboyles] Bradley (M E. D. s. v.) : (An adaptation of Old French gar-
ACT I, sc. iii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 5 1
See when^and where ihee died. 77
Cleo. O mod ialfe Loue I Where be the Sacred VioUes thou (hould'ft fill 79
79. ViolUs\ viols Ff. vials Pope.
houil^ garlnmUU ( » Spanish garbuUo)^ adaptation of Italian garbuglio connected with Latin bulHre^ to boil ; the origin of the prefixed element is disputed.) Confusion, disturbance, tumult ; an instance of this, a brawl, hubbub, hurly-burly.
76. at the last, best,] Steevens : This conjugal tribute to the memory of Fulvia may be illustrated by Malcolm's eulogium on the Thane of Cawdor : < nothing in his life Became him, like the leaving it/ — I, iv, 7. Boswell : Surely it means her death was the best thing I have known of her, as it checked her garboils. Irving Edition : Antony evidently means either, < in the last part of the letter is the best news,' or 'the best thing she ever did was her last act, that is, her leaving me.* RoLFE: These words probably refer to the last part of the letter, or that giving the good news of Fulvia's death. Staunton : The commentators will have the word 'best' to relate to the *good end' made by Fulvia. But It is no more than an epithet of endearment which Anthony applies to Qeopatra ; — ^read at 3rour leisure the trouble she awakened ; and then at the last, my best aue^ see when and where she died. [Of course, after ' best ' Staunton's text has the comma, of the Folio.] Staun- TOH {Athen, 12 April, 1873): Very many years ago I protested against the error modem editors had conmiitted in altering the punctuation of the old copy by pladng a colon or semi-colon after ' best,' and interpreting it to mean that Fulvia's death was the most becoming act of her life ; or that the intelligence of her decease was the best part of the news. I showed conclusively, as it appeared to me, that ' best ' in this place was simply a term of endearment, like ' sweet,' or ' love,* or ' dear ; ' the constraction being, — * read in these letters all the turmoils she provoked, and, at the last, my best one, read when and where she died.' It seemed to me incredible that there could be any question as to this, the obvious meaning, being accepted as the true one, when it was once explained. I did not then know that young ignorance and old prejudice were not the only or the worst foes a modem restoration of Shake- speare's language had to overcome. I had to leam that the most implacable opponents of an improvements in Shakespeare's text in these days were to be found among Shakespeare's editors. This use of ' best,' or of analc^us epithets, is very common with our early poets. Compare — « but that I love thee, best, O most best! believe it' — HamUt^ III, ii ; ' Gallus, Tibullus, and the best-best Caesar.' — ^Jonson's Poetaster, y, i ; « Believe me, Philomuse, i' faith thou must, The best-best scale of wit is wit's distrust.' — Introd. to Marston's What you Will; 'Be she with that goodness blest Which may merit name of best,* — George Wither' s song, ^ Shall /wasting in despair; * — kind, forgive me: Make me not sick in health.' — The Revenger's Tragedy; • — But, last, good, thy humour.' — Induct, to Marston's Antonio and Mellida, where the tnm of expression is precisely the same as — ' at the last, best, see when,' etc. [Staunton overlooked Florizel's enamoured words * When you do speak, sweet, I'ld have you do it ever ' ? Had we only dutifully followed the Folio, and disregarded Capell's unfortunate colon, there would never have been, I think, any doubt as to the comprehension of Anthony's epithet ' best,' which hannonizes with his eagerness to propitiate her whom he had already called his ' Queen.' — Ed.]
79. Sacred Violles] Johnson: Alluding to the lachrymatory vials, or bottles of
52 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act i. sc. iii.
With forrowfull water ? Now I fee, I fee, 80
In Fuluias death, how mine receiu'd (hall be.
Ant Quarrell no more, but bee prepared to know The purpofes I beare : which are, or ceafe, As you (hall giue th'aduice. By the fire
That quickens Nylus flime, I go from hence 85
Thy Souldier, Seruant, making Peace or Warre, As thou affefls.
Cleo. Cut my Lace, Channian come. But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well, So Anthony loues. 90
81. receU^ d Jhall be\ shaU be recM d 86. Souldier^ Seruant'] soldier-servant
RowCy + y Cap. Sta. Coll. iii.
84. M' <«/«««] M'«/ot<:« Pope, + , Cap. 87. affeifls"] affectft F,. affecfjl F^F^ tkem aidance Anon. ap. Cam. et seq.
By\ Now by Stecv. Var. '73, '78. 89, 90. well^ So'\ well^—So Theob.
85. ^tm^] xifff^ Rowe ii (misprint). well : So^'Vfzib, well, — 5^9, Johns, toell:
So Var. '78, 85, Mai. Steev. Var.
tears, which the Romans sometimes p«t into the urn of a friend. Halliwell : These vials are now known to be unguent bottles.
80, 81. I see, . . . shaU be] This rhyme grates. One cannot but admire Rowe's courage in evading it
84. th'aduice. By] Abbott ({ 508) in order to complete the metre, suggests, what is most true, that < a pause, perhaps, may be expected before an oath,' but immediately ruinates the good suggestion by adding : ' but ** vice " or *< by " may be prolonged.' It were better far, brazenly to insert, like Steevens, a superfluous Now, or even a whole Dictionary, than weakly to quaver out < vice ' or ' By.' — Ed.
87. affedts] Walker {Crit. ii, 128) in his Article to show that * j is not infre- quently substituted for st in the second person singular of the verb ' has the follow- ing: < Qfutre, therefore, in cases where st would produce extreme harshness, and where at the same time the old copies have s, whether we ought not to write the latter. (In the north of England, and in Scodand (see, for example. Bums passim), s for st in the second person seeBis to be the rule.)* [The propriety of Walker's suggestion can hardly be questioned, I think. There are instances where it is almost impossible to pronounce the full form in st and at the same time impart any smooth- ness whatever to the verse. In the well-known line where Hamlet asks the Ghost why * thou dead corse again in complete steel J^evisitest thus the glimpses of the moon,' can cacophony further go ? Thus to pronounce these two words is to pay too dear a price for grammar. Again in Lear, where the old demented king sajrs ' thou body lustest to use.' In both cases we are forced to use the forms in the Folio and say ' Revisits thus ' and * lusts to.' Thus, too, in the present line, an ear that would shrink under < affects ' for affectest is too grammatical to be of use to anybody, much less to its owner. When Heine said that to his ears the English language sounded like the harsh notes of sea-mews, I think he must have had in memory some of the second person singulars of verbs ending in t, — Ed.]
89, 90. and well, So Anthony loues] Capell (p. 29) : Meaning — such is
ACT I, sc. iu.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 53
Ant. My precious Queene forbeare, 91
And giue true euidence to his Loue, which flands An honourable Triall.
Cleo. So Fuluia told me. 94
92. euiiUnce] credence Coll. ii, iii (MS), Wh. L audience L. Campbell ap. Cam.
Antony's lore ; fluctuating and subject to sudden turns, like my health. [Of recent editors, Staunton and Hudson are the only ones who adopt this interpretation.} Malonk : [At one time] I thought this to be — ' My fears quickly render me ill ; and I am as quickly well again, when I am convinced that Antony has an affection for me.' 'So' for so thai. If this be the true sense of the passage, it ought to be r^[alated thus : — ' I am quickly ill, — and well again, so Antony loves.' [The inter- I^etation which Malone rejected is that which has been generally adopted. Knight accepts it ; CoLUKR also, adding : * First Cleopatra tells Charmian to cut her lace, then ** to let it be," the necessity being at an end, in consequence, perhaps, of receiv- ing some indication of love from Antony.' Irving's Ed., Driguton, and Rolfe all adopt Malone' s discarded interpretation. In the use of the indicative ' loves,' instead of the subjunctive, Abbott (§ 363) discerns such complete assurance on Cleopatra's part, that he is inclined to consider * So ' as ' almost ' equivalent to since. Had we only closed our eyes to Warburton's colon, Steevens's semi-colon, and John- son's full stop, and opened them on the comma of the Folio, no doubts would have ever beclouded our minds. To me, the simple meaning is that whether she is ill or well depends entirely on Anthony's love. — Ed.]
92. euidence] Coluer (ed. ii) : There can be no hesitation in adopting here the excellent emendation of the MS, viz.: credence for ' evidence ' ; it suits both measure and meaning admirably ; for the sake of the metre * evidence ' [must be pronounced] etfdenee, Cleopatra was not to give evidence, but belief, to the affection of Antony. S1N6E& (SA. Vind. 289) : The substitution of credence would be specious, but that the occurrence of < trial,' in the next line, shows that the old text is right Cleopatra had just cast a doubt on Antony's love ; he bids her give < true evidence ' in favour of it, not bear false witness against it, as she had done, Dyce (Strict. 201) quotes with approval this note of Singer, and adds: Compare •Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gk>ster Than from frue evidence,' etc— ^ I/en, VI: III, ii. * Give true evidence ' is « Bear true witness ; ' but what is « Give true credence ' ? Staunton : Mr Collier's annotator . . . would poorly read credence, which, like many of his sug- gestions, is very specious and quite wrong. The meaning of Antony is this, — « For- bear these taunts, and demonstrate to the world your confidence in my love by sub- mitting it freely to the trial of absence.'
92. to his] Walker ( Vers. 77) recommends that these two words should be written, ids. Could Walker have vainly imagined that by writing these words thus the rhythmical flow of the line would be promoted ? If tds represents one sound, why should it not be written honesdy tos f Does not the apostrophe by indicating an omission equally indicate a pause long enough to show that tds is not tos f And if there is to be a pause, however brief, it is a pause long enough to give a breathing and say to his. No flow of rhythm can compensate, to my ear at least, for such slip- shod pronunciation of English as tds. —Ed.
94. So Fuluia told me] It is not, of course, to be supposed that Fulvia ever told
54 ^^^ TRACED IE OF [act i. sc. iii.
I piythee tume afide, and weepe for her, 95
Then bid adiew to me, and fay the teares Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one Scene Of excellent diflembling, and let it looke Like perfeft Honor.
AnL You'l heat my blood no more? lOO
Cleo. You can do better yet : but this is meetly.
AnL Now by Sword.
Cleo. And Target. Still he mends. But this is not the beft. Looke prythee Chamdatij How this Herculean Roman do's become 105
The carriage of his chafe.
100. blood no moreK^ blood; no more, Johns. Cap. Var. Mai. Steev. Var. Knt,
Rowe et seq. (subs.) Sing.
102. by Sword,'\bymy Sword. Ft by io6, 107. The,..Lady'\ As one line, my sword — Rowe et seq. Steev. Var. Knt.
103. Target,^ largely Theoh, Warb. 106. cAa/e} chief SAjbl. Hunter.
Cleopatra this, or anything else. It was Cleopatra's cutting and cruel way of telling Anthony at how high a rate his treatment of Fulvia had led her to prize his love. Fulvia had experienced Anthony's < honourable trial ;' and Fulvia' s experience pro- claimed Cleopatra's; tears shed for Fulvia should be Qeopatra's 'true evidence to his love.' — Ed.
97. to Egypt] Johnson : To me, the Queen of Egypt
98. let it] Abbott (§ 472) : So strong was the dislike to pronouncing two dental syllables together, that ' it ' seems nearly or quite lost after ' let' [in the present line. To the same effect Walker, Vers. 77.]
103. Still he mends] This speaking of Anthony in the third person implies the calm critical eye of a disinterested spectator, pronouncing on the excellence of the performance with judicial coolness, — unspeakably irritating when the victim's blood is seething. — Ed.
104. Looke prythee Charmian] This appeal to Charmian is virtually turning Anthony into a public exhibition ; and proves the limit of his endurance. — Ed.
105. Herculean Roman] Steevet^ : Anthony traced his descent from Anton, a son of Hercules. [See Appendix ^ Plutarch. "]
106. chafe] Staunton : Can any one who considers the epithet * Herculean,' which Cleopatra applies to Antony, and reads the following extract from Shake- speare's authority, hesitate for an instant to pronounce < chafe' a silly blunder of the transcriber or compositor for chief meaning Hercules, the head or principal of the house of the Antonii ? [Here follows the passage from Plutarch, referred to in the pre- ceding note. Twenty years later, Staunton {Alhen. 12 April, 1873) upheld his emen- dation, and closed his remarks, in substance the same as in his note just given, with the assertion that Shakespeare * puts into the mouth of Cleopatra the stinging taunt, — " How this Herculean Roman does become the carriage of his chief." A sarcasm which is rendered absolutely pointless by the fatuous reading of the old text. '] HUD- SON : This is obscure. But Cleopatra here assumes that Anthony is but playing a
ACT I, sa iiL] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 5 5
Ant. He leaue you Lady. 107
Cleo. Courteous Lord, one word : Sir, you and I mud part, but that's not it : Sir, you and I haue lou'd, but there's not it : no
That you know well, fomething it is I would : Oh, my Obliuion is a very Anthony ^ And I am all forgotten. 113
no, III. but„.W€ll^ {ha.„weUf) 113. all forgotten\ aU-forgotten Cap.
Theob. Warb. Johns. Var. '78, Ran. all forgetting Theob.
III. Iwould:'\ would^ — Cap. et seq. conj. (withdrawn).
part ; that his passion is pat on for effect So, if the text be right, the meaning, I think, must be, ' look how well he carries out the resemblance or make-believe of keing chafed at my words.' Deighton : That is, see what full justice he does to the part he has to play of being in a rage ; how well he carries out his assumed rOle. Mrs Jameson (ii, 130) : This is, indeed, most * excellent dissembling ; ' but when she has fooled and chafed the Herculean Roman to the verge of danger, then comes that retam of tenderness which secures the power she has tried to the utmost, and we have all the elegant, the poetical Qeopatra in her beautiful farewelL [Although these words are a part of the irritating appeal to Charmian, yet they give in one par- ticular word the first hint that Cleopatra is relenting and that her mood is changing. In her very next speech she is utterly subdued and is the gentle, caressing, heart- broken queen, whose very soul is lost and forgotten in Anthony. It would be unnatu- ral to represent this change as taking place as swift as the lightning in the collied night, as it would be were it preceded by a * stinging taunt' and 'sarcasm.* The indication of a change, which though swift, is still gradual, lies in the word * chafe,' — ^it is Qeopatra' s confession that she has been merely teasing ; when she speaks in earnest she lacks words to tell her love, but hitherto it has been mere fun — < Look, Charmian,' she says, in effect, 'how becoming it is to this Herculean Roman to have to bear a little teasing;' or, in modem slang (perilously near 'chafe') 'to bear a little chaff. ^ Qi course, it is not to be supposed that, however bewitching the smile which accompanies these words, Anthony is at once appeased. No man likes to be told that he has been teased, although teasing is better than venom. So Anthony is dignified and calls Cleopatra ' lady ' and is almost ludicrously sarcastic in his next speech. But, — he is limed. The 'infinite variety' has triumphed. — Ed.]
1x2, 113. Oh, my Obliuion . . . forgotten] Hanmer : 'All forgotten' is an old way of speaking for, apt to forget everything, Capell (i, 29) : Intimating by this expression, — that Anton3r's oblivion was something more than even oblivion itself; the hemistich that follows may be explain' d in these words ; — and the memory I once had is all a blot. Johnson : It was her memory, not her oblivion, that like Antony was deserting her. I think a slight change will restore the passage. The Queen, having something to say, which she is not able, or would seem not able to recollect, cries out, ' O my oblivion I — ' Tis a very Antony.* The thought of which I was in quest is a very Antony, is treacherous and fugitive, and has irrevocably left me. ' And I am all forgotten.' If this reading stand, I think the explanation of Hanmer must be received. But I will venture another change, by reading, ' And I am ally^- gene^ I am all deserted and undone. Steevens : Cleopatra has something to say,
56 THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sc. iii.
Ant. But that your Royalty Holds IdlenefTe your fubiefl^ I (hould take you 115
For IdlenefTe it felfe.
which seems to be suppressed by sorrow ; and after many attempts to produce her meaning, she cries out : * O, this oblivious memory of mine is as false and treacherous to me as Antony is, and I forget everything.' Oblivum^ I believe, is boldly used for a memory apt to be deceitful, . . . Mr Edwards has proposed in his MS notes : ' Oh me ! oblivion is a very Antony,' etc. Henley : Perhaps nothing is more necessary here than a change of punctuation ; O my ! being still an exclamation frequently used in the west of England. M. Mason : The sense of the passage appears to me to be this : * O, my oblivion 1 as if it were another Antony, possesses me so entirely, that I quite forget m3rself.' [Steevens's paraphrase of < my oblivion is a very Antony ' is possibly just ; but may it not be that Qeopatra means that she is so utterly lost, heart and soul and mind and strength, in Anthony, that even her forgetfulness is become a part of him, and that her own individual self is all forgotten ? See V, ii, io6. — Ed.] 114-116. But that ... it selfe] Warburton : That is. But that jrour charms hold me, who am the greatest fool on earth, in chains, I should have adjudged you to be the greatest. That this is the sense is shown by her answer : < 'Tis sweating labour. To bear such idleness so near the heart. As Cleopatra this — .' Heath (p. 450) : I apprehend the sense is this ; Ant, If I were not sufficiently acquainted with you to know, that you have so perfect a command of your own disposition, as to be able to put on or dismiss idleness, or childish frowardness, at pleasure, I should take you, from your present behaviour, for childishness itself. Cleo. As much idleness as you are pleased to call my present disposition, it is sweating labour to bear such idle- ness so near the heart, as I do this which you reproach me with. Capsll (i, 29) : Did I not know, says Antony, what a mistress 3rou are in the arts of dissembling, and of counterfeiting any idle humour 3rou please, I should take the wantonness of 3roQr present behaviour for real wantonness, and accuse you of little feeling ; and with this interpretation, the answer of Cleopatra quadrates perfecdy ; for it amounts to an avowal — that she had indeed been acting a part, and that with the greatest con- straint, and most painfully to herself ; her motive, as she would have it thought, — to keep up Antony's spirits, and her own, in such a trying juncture as this of their parting. Steevkns : Warburton' s explanation is a very coarse one. The sense may be : — But that your queenship chooses idleness for the subject of your conver- sation, I should take you for idleness itself. Or an antithesis may be designed between royalty and subject. But that I know you to be a queen, and that your royalty holds idleness in subjection to you, exalting you far above its influence, I should suppose you to be the very genius of idleness itself. M alone : But perhaps your subject rather means, whom being in subjection to you, you can command at pleasure, * to do your bidding,' to assume the airs of coquetry, etc. Were not this coquet one of your attendants, I should suppose you yourself were this capricious being. Hud- son : ' Idleness' here means idle or sportive and unmeaning talk. And there is an antithesis between ' royalty ' and ' subject.* So the sense is, ' But that you are queen over your passion for idle discourse, and can command it as your subject, assuming it and laying it aside when you choose, I should think you the very genius of idleness itself.' RoLFE : But that your sovereignty can make frivolousness subservient to your purpose, I should take you for frivolousness itself.
ACT I, sc. iii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA 57
CUo. *Tis fweating Labour, 117
To beare fuch Idlenefle fo neere the heart As Cleopatra this. But Sir, forgiue me,
Since my becommings kill me, when they do not 120
Eye well to you. Your Honor calles you hence, Therefore be deafe to my vnpittied Folly, And all the Gods go with you. Vpon your Sword Sit Lawrell vi6lory, and fmooth fuccefle Be ftreVd before your feete. 125
AnL Let vs go. G>me : Our feparation fo abides and flies, That thou reciding heere, goes yet with mee ; And I hence fleeting, heere remaine with thee. Away. Exeunt. 130
123. Vpam] On Pope,+. 126, 127. Lef„.Cofm:'} As one line,
124. LawreW] Mai. Var. '21, Knt, Pope et seq.
Djce, Gla Hal. Sta. KUj. LxrwreWd 128. reciding] refiding ¥t
Ff elect goes] gtfe/i FffRowc,-^, go^st
Cap. et seq.
120. my becommings] The things which become me, befit me, 124. Lawrell vidtory] Both Collier and Dyce think that * LawrelPd' of F, is to be preferred. The former suggests that a d has dropt out at the press ; and the latter ' suspects that [thus] Shakespeare wrote here.' But they overlooked certain examples which Abbott (§ 430) fiimishes: — 'The honey of his music vows' — Hamiet III» i, 164 ; 'The venom clamours of a jealous woman.' — Com. of Err, V, i, 69 ; < Or toads infect fair founts with venom mud.' — R, of L, 850. * The Carthage <{iieen.' — Mid, N.D, I, i, 173. M alone was assuredly correct when he said that this use of a noun for a past participle or an adjective * was the language of Shake- ipeare's time.'
128, 129. That thou . . . remaine with thee] Steevens : Compare * She went, they staid; or rightly for to say, She staid in them, they went in thought with h3nr.' — Sidney, Arcadia, lib. i, [p. 87, ed. 1598.] Thus abo in Plautus, Mercator : *Si domi som, foris est animus : sin foris sum, animus domi 'st.' [HI, iv, 2.]
58 THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sc. iv.
[Scene IK]
Enter OSlauius reading a Letter^ LepiduSj
and their Traine.
Caf. You may fee Lepidus^dSid henceforth know, It is not Ccefars Naturall vice, to hate
One great Competitor. From Alexandria 5
This is the newes : He fifties, drinkes, and wades
Scene II. Rowe. Scene V. Pope, + . i. OdUuius] Ociavius Casar^Row^.
Scene IV. Cap. et seq. 3. [giving him a Letter to read. Cap.
[Rome. Rowe. Caesar's Palace at 4. vice] voice F^, Rowe, Pope.
Rome. Theob. The House of Caesar as 5. One] A Han. Our Heath. Sing,
modest as possible. Statues of Julius et seq.
Caesar, Venus, Apollo. Kemble. grecU] geecU F .
5. One great] Heath (p. 450) : I have little doubt but Shakespeare wrote. Our grecU competitor. That is, that he doth not naturally bear a personal hatred to Antony. The whole scope of this scene confirms the emendation, as containing the justifying motives of Octavius his present resentment [Johnson, of course inde- pendently, made this same conjecture ; and as his Edition and Heath's Revisal were both issued in 1765, it would be diflBcult to decide the priority, were it not that John- son in his Preface refers to Heath's attack on Warburton. — Ed.] Capell (i, 30) : From the first of these words may be gather'd — that the party who utters it had been engag'd in conversation with Lepidus before their entry ; and that a topick of that conversation had been, — a charge brought against him by the other, of designing to get rid of his partners, and govern singly : The passage being seen in this view, there can be no occasion for changing * One ' into— ^, or into — our^ as has been done by different gentlemen. Boswkll : • One * competitor is any one of his great com- petitors. [It is difficult, if not impossible, to uphold the Folio here. By retaining 'One' the inference becomes not unfair that it is Caesar's natural vice to hate many competitors. The whole sentence seems cither carelessly written or else dependent on the contents of the letter which Caesar has just read. • Vice ' and * hate * both seem stronger than the occasion demands. It is not a ' vice ' to disapprove of immo- rality ; nor is it natural that the misdemeanours which Caesar rehearses should inspire
* hate,' however severely they may be condcnmed. The unanimity with which all modem editors have adopted our cannot be here lighdy disregarded. — Ed.]
5. Competitor] Murray {N,E,D,5,v,\^)\ One associated with another in seeking the same common object ; an associate, a partner. [Thus again Caesar calls Anthony in that touching lament, when word is brought to him of Anthony's death :
* thou my Brother, my Competitor In top of all designe ; my Mate in Empire,* etc. — V, i, 52. See also note on I, i, 21. — Ed.]
6. He flthet] That Fishing should be here found in a list of heinous £udts, can- not fail to give a profound shock to all gentle and refined natures. It is cheering to note, however, that the sympathetic author of Shakespeare as an Angler has had the itrength to quote (p. I a) the present passage, and manfully foibear all comment — ^Eo.
ACT I, sc. iv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA
59
The Lampes of night in reuell : Is not more manlike Then Cleopatra : nor the Queene of Ptolamy More Womanly then he. Hardly gaue audience Or vouchfafe to thinke he had Partners. You Shall finde there, a man^ who is th'abflra6ls of all faults^
lo
7. reuell'\ revells Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han.
Is\ Om. Pope, Han. matdike\ manly Rowe ii, + .
8. Ptolomy] Ptolemy Thcob.
9-12. Mare,.. follow. "] Lines end, a«M/f- ence. . .partners,. . abstract. . .follow. Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. he... think., .man ...follow. Johns, he... or.,. there., faults ... follow. Var. '73. audience... there... faults... follow. Knt, Sta. or... there,,, faults,,. follow. Cap. et cet.
ID. vouchfafe'] did vouchfafe¥ifKoYrt^ Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. vouchsafed Johns, et seq.
he had"] that h' had Pope, thai he had Theob. + .
II. finde there"] there find Thtoh. ii, Warb. Johns.
th'abfl rails] th'abfiract F,F^, Rowe. th^ abflract F^. the abstract Pope et seq.
faults,] faults; Rowe. faults Pope et seq.
7. reuell] Walker (Crit. iii, 285), having found a line in Toumeur's Revenger's Tragedy where revels is to be pronounced as a monosyllable, asks, * Is revels thus pro- nounced in a passage in Shakespeare ? ' To which his editor, Lettsom, answers, ' I think not except in [the present line]. And even this example is ambiguous.' (Perhaps, because the word occurs in the third foot, where extra syllables are at times tolerated and perhaps because ' reels ' may refer to a drunken gait.) Lettsom might have been, however, a little more bold. The word occurs again in <Our Alexandrian Reueb : ' — ^V, ii, 262, where also it may be pronounced as a monosylla- ble, if 'Our' be a disyllable. And in II, vii, iii, Revels has been spelt outright, as I think, * Reeles.' It is to be remembered that even to this day how easy is the con- traction of words containing a v between two vowels, such as ne'er, e'er, etc. In Wiuter's Tale, IV, iv, 511, (of this ed.) in a note on 'shovels,* a quotation from The Antiquary is given, where Sir Walter spells the word shoots. In Ben Jonson,
• mar'le * for marvel is not infrequent, see Every Man out of his Humour, II, i. — Ed.
8. Queene of Ptolomy] Knight : All the modem editions omit ' of,' reading
* Queen Ptolemy.' [The omission is due to a misprint in the Variorum of 1803, which was continued in those of 1813, and 1821. These are Knight's 'all.' — Ed.]
10. vouchsafe to] A convincing proof, as it seems to me, that the compositor obeyed his ear when taking the words from the mouth of his reader. The dental d in ' vouchsafed ' was lost in the dental / of ' to.' Johnson very properly restored the d, but it is sufficiently heard when the line is spoken. Steevens believed that he had restored metre to the line by omitting * to.' If what I have said, about the absorption of d in the / of ' to,' be correct, the present is not to be classed among the instances given by Walker ( Crit. ii, 62) of * final d and final e confounded.' See 'dumbe,' I, v, 58 ; 'Tawny fine,' II, v, 16; 'Or looke on thine,' V, i, 49 (although this last is doubtful). — Ed.
11. abfltradts] One of the most valuable of Walker's chapters, as has been re- marked in almost every volume of this edition, is that ' on the frequent interpolation, and frequent omission, of the final j,' in the 6rst Folio. * The interpolation of an s at the end of a word,' says Walker {^Crit, i, 234), ' — generally, but not always, a
6o THE TRACED IE OF [act i. sc. iv.
That all men follow. 12
Lep. I muft not thinke There are, euils enow to darken all his goodnefle: His faults in him, feeme as the Spots of Heauen, 15
12-14. That,,,are\ As one line, Ci^. There are F^, Cap. et seq.
et seq. 14. enaw'\ enough Rowe, + , Qxp, Var.
12. That'\ Om. Pope, Theob, Han. Mai. Steev. Ran. Var. Sing.
Warb. 15, 16. of Heauen, More fierie'\ of
14. There are,"} They re Popc, + . ermine, or Jires Hani.
noun substantive, — is lemarkably frequent in the Folio. Those who are conversant with the MS of the Elizabethan age may perhaps be able to explain its origin. Were it not for the different degree of frequency with which it occurs in different parts of the Folio, — being comparatively rare in the Comedies (except perhaps in The IVtm- ter's Tale)^ appearing more frequently in the Histories, and becoming quite common in the Tragedies, — I should be inclined to think it originated in some peculiarity of Shakespeare's handwriting.' This possible * peculiarity ' of Shakespeare's handwrit- ing does not interfere with the suggestion that the compositors composed by the ear. Any 'peculiarity' in the MS would mislead the reader, whether or not he was at the same time the compositor. Other instances of this superfluous s in the present play are : — * Packt Cards with Caesars,' IV, xiv, 24 ; * Will . . . Ballads vs out a Tune' — V, ii, 260; and, possibly, * She leuell'd at our purposes' — Ibid. 401. — Ed. 12. all men follow] ' All men ' is here the object, not the subject of * follow.' — Ed.
14. enow] Bradley (A^. E. D. s. v. Enough) : ... In many dialects, thongli not in all, the word enough (or its local equivalent), is employed in the singular and in the adverbial uses, while Enow serves for the plural. In the i8th century this distinction was recognized (e.g. by Johnson) as standard English; now, however, enow is in literary use entirely superseded, except as an intentional archaism, by enough, [Ibid, [s, v. Enow, Johnson's definition is adopted.) : *The plural of Enough.' Wherefore, by the standard usage of their own century those earlier edi- tors, who deserted the Folio, were wrong. — Ed.]
15. His faults in him, etc.] Capkll (i, 30) : The propriety of this similitude has been question' d ; and, indeed, some reflection is necessary, ere it can be seen : The night in which Antony's faults were set, and by which they were render' d more glaring, is — the turbulent state of affairs, and the storm that was then arisen from Pompey. Johnson : If by spots are meant stars, as night has no other fiery spots, the comparison is forced and harsh, stars having been always supposed to beautilj the night ; nor do I comprehend what there is in the counterpart of this simile, which answeis to night's blackness. M alone : The meaning seems to be — ' As the stars or spots of heaven are not obscured, but rather rendered more bright, by the black- ness of the night, so neither is the goodness of Antony eclipsed by his evil qualities, but, on the contrary, his faults seem enlarged and aggravated by his virtues. That which answers to the blackness of the night, in the counterpart of the simile, is Antonys goodness. His goodness is a ground which gives a relief to his faults, and makes them stand out more prominent and conspicuous. It is objected, that stars rather beautify than deform the night But the poet considers them here only with rei^iect to their prominence and splendomr. It is sufficient fcnr him that their sdntil-
ACT I, sc. iv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 6 1
More fierie by nights Blacknefle ; Hereditarie, i6
Rather then purchafle : what he cannot change^ Then what he choofes.
Qjdf. You are too indulgent. Let's graunt it is not Amiffe to tumble on the bed oi Ptolomy^ 20
To giue a Kingdome for a Mirth, to fit And keepe the tume of Tipling with a Slaue, To reele the ftreets at noone, and ftand the Buffet With knaues that fmels of fweate : Say this becoms him (As his compofure mud be rare indeed, 25
18. Then\ Than F^. LeU F,. Let us Pope et cet.
19. YoM areJl Yot^re Pope, +, Dyce 19. not^ Om. Ff, Rowe. ii, iii. 20. Ptolomy] Ptolemy F^.
Let'i\ F,F^, Rowe, Knt, Sing. 2^. /mels]/mell ¥i ei stf\.
latioiis appear stronger in consequence of darkness, as jewels are more resplendent on a black groond than on any other. — Compare / Hen. IV: I, ii, 236 : — ' And like bright metal on a sullen ground. My reformation, glittering o'er my fault. Shall show more goodly, and attract more eyes. Than that which hath no foil to set it off.' [Capell, for all his gnarled English, is often our surest guide. His present inter- pretation is, to me, by much the most poetical. It was the blackness of the rising tenqpest that gave an unusual brilliance to Anthon]r's misdeeds. — Ed.]
15. Spots] QuiNCY (p. 48) : The Corrector reads * stars oi Heaven,' — thus doing his best to destroy the felicity of the comparison, and render a striking line tame and prosaic.
16, 17. Hereditarie, Rather than purchaste] Lord Campbell (p. 117) : That is to say, they are taken by descent^ not by purchase. Lay gents (viz., all except lawyers) understand by < purchase ' buying for a sum of money, called the price ; but lawyers consider that ' purchase ' is opposed to descent^ — that all things come to the owner either by descent or by purchase^ and that whatever does not come through operation of law by descent \s purchased, although it may be the free gift of a donor. Thus, if land be devised to A. in fee, he takes by purchase, or to B. for life, remainder Id a. and his heirs, B. being a stranger to A., A. takes by purchase; but upon the death of A., his eldest son would take by descent. So in ^ Hen, IV: IV, iv, the King, who had usurped the crown, says to the Prince of Wales : — * For what in me was purchased Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort.' t. e, I took by purchase, you will take by descent,
19, 20. You are . . . Ptolomy] Walker ( Crit, iii, 295 ) : Arrange, perhaps, — ' Yon are too indulgent : Let's grant 'tis not amiss | To tumble on the bed of Ptolemy.'
21. a Mirth] For a merry joke. Deighton : It seems doubtful whether ' To give a kingdom ' means to bestow a kingdom on his entertainer, or to squander the wealth of a kingdom in a single feast.
22. tume of Tipling, etc.] See North's Plutarch, Appendix.
23. To reele the streets] For other instances of the omission of prepositions after verbs of motion, see Abbott § 198.
25. As his composure, etc.] Johnson: This seems inconsequent. I read:
62 THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sc. iv.
Whom thefe things cannot blemifli) yet mufl AtUhany 26
No way excufe his foyles, when we do beare
So great waight in his lightnefTe. If he fillM
His vacancie with his Voluptuoufneffe,
Full furfets, and the drineffe of his bones, 30
Call on him fort. But to confound fuch time,
ri,foyle5\ F,. foyU FjF^. foils 28. ///V] ///' Stecv. (misprint).
Rowe, + , Cap. Var. Coll. Sing. Ktly. 31. Ctf//] /tfi/ Sing. Coll. ii.iii (MS),
soils Mai. et cet. Ktly.
' And his composure/ etc Grant that this becomes him, and if it can become him, he must have in him something very uncommon, yet^ etc Malone : Compare As You Like II, * what though you Aave beauty, (As by my faith I see no more in you Than without candle may go dark to bed,*) — III, v, 41. Abbott (§ iii) : 'ASf equivalent to as regards which^ thought for^ was sometimes used parenthetically in a sense oscillating between the relative which^ as regards which, and the con- junction^^, though, since, [Thus Abbott explains the 'as' here and in II, ii, 66. In both places, as well as in Malone's quotation from As You Like It, * as ' appears to me to introduce a clause which expresses a reason, and is equivalent to tnas- much as, since ; of which use examples may be found in the N. E, D, s, v, IV, 18.— Ed.]
27. his foyles] Malone : For the emendation now made [^soils'] I am answer- able. In the MSS of our author' s time, / and / are often undistinguishable, and no two letters are so often confounded at the press. Shakespeare has so regularly used this word in the sense required here, that there cannot, I imagine, be the smallest doubt of the justness of this emendation. So, in Hamlet : [Hereupon Malone gives examples of soil from Hamlet, Love's Lab, Z., Meas, for Meas., 2 Hen, IV, and, doubtless, a Concordance would furnish many more.] Steevens : If ' foils ' be inad- missible (which I question), we might Te&d— fails. In The Winter'' s Tale, we meet with this substantive, which signifies omission, or non-performance : ' Mark, and per- form it. See'st thou? for the fail Of any point in't, shall not only be Death to thy- self,' etc Yet, on the whole, I prefer Malone's conjecture. Collier (ed. ii) : Malone and modem editors have altered < foils' to soils, without sufficient necessity ; the ' foils' of Anthony are his vices, his foibles (possibly Shakespeare's word, though, according to our dictionaries, not so old), which foil, or defeat, the exercise of our virtues. [I fail to perceive any gain in substituting soils for * foils.' ' Foils ' is a synonym of soils, and has all its strength. Bradley (N. E. D, s. v. Foil, sb?, 2. f b) gives as its definition * A disgrace, stigma. With mixture of the sense of Foil, v,^, 6. which means To foul, defile, pollute. In material and immaterial sense.' Schmidt (Lex.) also gives a definition of 'foil' as 'blemish, shortcoming' and quotes the present passage as an example. With such evidence before us, is there any sufficient reason why we should discard Shakespeare*s word and adopt Malone's? — Ed.]
28. So great waight in his lightnesse] Johnson : The word light is one of Shakespeare's favourite playthings. The sense is — His triffing levity throws so much burden upon us.
31. Call on him for't] Johnson : * Call on him,' is visit him. Says Cajsar — If Antony followed his debaucheries at a time of leisure, I should leave him to be
ACT I. sa iv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 63
That drummes him from his fport, and fpeakes as lowd 32
As his owne State^ and ours^ 'tis to be chid :
As we rate Boyes, who being mature in knowledge,
Pawne their experience to their prefent pleafure, 35
And fo rebell to iudgement.
33. <mrs^ '/w] ours ; *tis Pope, + . 34. ra//] rare F^.
^] Ae FjF^. deing- mature] immature Han.
eAui:"] ckuf, Han. Warb. Johns. Warb. being immature Ktly. ekid Cap. et scq.
punished by their natural consequences, by surfeits , and dry bones. Collier (ed. ii) : Here Mr Singer, with some apparent unscrupolousness, adopts the emendation of the corrected Folio, 1632 (Notes and Emendations^ p. 4S7) yiz. Fall for 'Call.' The alteration is trifling, but it never, that we are aware of, was hinted at before 1853, and all editors, until Mr Singer's time, printed < Gi//,' etc. He was quite right to use FeUl^ but surely not right to leave it to be supposed that it was his own unprompted emendation. Staunton: Call him to account for it [An interpre- tation more Shakespearian, I think, than Dr Johnson's. — Ed.]
31. confound] See note on * confound ' I, i, 59.
33-36. 'tia to be chid: As we, etc.] Heath (p. 451) : As we rate boys, who, when they have attained a sufficient maturity of knowledge to regulate their own conduct, sacrifice to their present pleasure, the experience they have had of the ill consequences which will certainly follow from such indulgence, and thus rebel against their own judgment. According to Hanmer's reading, the fault of the boy is said to proceed from the immaturity of his knowledge, that is, want of sufficient experience to teach him that knowledge, at the same time that he is said to have that experience, and to act in contradiction to it, and to his judgment founded upon it Capell (i, 30) : ' Being mature ' has been chang'd mXxk—imme^re : but < boys ' are not usually < rated ' for faults before they are of years to know better ; nor can they * rebel to judgment,' till such time as they have some. Johnson : By < boys mature in knowledge ' are meant, boys old enough to know their duty. R. G. White (ed. i) : Hanmer's reading, < immature in knowledge ' is most plausible. For boys are not mature in anything, and least in knowledge ; and were they mature they would not pawn their experience to their present pleasure ; or at least their so doing would not be chosen as an illustration here. Without an equivalent to Hanmer's too great change, the passage appears to be inexplicable. Daniel (p. 80) : Read these four
lines thus : ' ^^j to be chid As we rate boys, who, being mature in knowledge.
Pawns his experience to his present pleasure. And so rebels to judgment.' Boys are not mature in knowledge, and cannot pawn experience nor rebel against judgment they do not possess ; but Antony being so, and doing thus, is to be chidden as a boy. J[oseph] C[rosby] (iV. <Sr» Qu, V, vii, 464, 1877) : The only objection to Daniel's emendation is that it makes no less than five changes in the original text. But the same sense and construction may be obtained by only one alteration, and that a very slight one, — viz. by reading They're for ' 'tis,' — placing the parenthetical clause between dashes, and closing the first sentence with a note of exclamation after ' ours,' thus : — * As his own state and ours ! They're to be chid — As we rate boys — who, being mature in knowledge,' etc. By this arrangement and pointing, it will be seen
64 THE TRACED JE OF [act i, sc iv.
Enter a Mejfenger. 37
Lep. Heere's more newes .
Me/. Thy biddings haue beene done, & euerie houre Mod Noble CtBfary ftialt thou haue report 40
How 'tis abroad. Pompey is ftrong at Sea, And it appeares, he is belouM of thofe That only haue feard Ccefar : to the Ports The difcontents repaire, and mens reports Giue him much wrong'd. 45
C(Ef, I fhould haue knowne no leffe, It hath bin taught vs from the primall (late 47
47. hin\ been F^.
at once that < As we rate boys ' is to be construed as a parenthesis, and that * who ' has for its antecedent < they ' of the previous line, viz. persons generally who do so- and-so, and does not in any way refer to *■ boys.' [Hudson adopted this emendation of Crosby in his text I cannot but believe that recent editors would have found less difficulty in these lines had they only followed the punctuation of the Folio, with a colon after ' chid/ instead of adopting Capell's text where is no punctuation after <chid.' With <chid' the sense is complete, — Anthony's conduct deserves to be chidden. Then the simile begins. It seems to me idle to discuss whether or not boys in general are mature or immature. The ' boys ' that Shakespeare had in mind in this passage were ' mature in knowledge ' and (/id ' pawn their experience.' * Boys ' is an elastic term. Later on, Anthony calls Caesar a 'boy.' Compared with Anthony's fifty-two years thirty-two years may well be a boy's span, and can any one say that such a * boy ' might not be mature enough to recognize the folly of pawn- ing experience to present pleasure ? The old shepherd in TAe Winter's Tale thought that youths of three-and-twenty knew too much. — Ed.]
43. haue feard Cflesar] Johnson : Those whom not love but fear made ad- herents to Caesar, now show their affection for Pompey.
43. to the Ports] Collier (ed. ii) : 'To \}[i<t fleets^ in the MS with some plausi- bility ; but though we may believe ' ports ' to have been caught from the line below, we refrain from alteration, inasmuch as ' ports ' may be right We are previously told that 'Pompey is strong at sea,' and to say that the 'discontents' repair 'to the fleets ' is what might have been expected. [CoLLiEk adopted fleets in his Third Edition^ Dyce (ed. ii) : I do not mean to say that the old text is wrong ; but theie is something disagreeable in the two lines [43 and 44] ending with the same sylla- ble. [This adds a shade of plausibility to the emendation of Collier's MS. — Ed.]
44. discontents] For examples of participles or adjectives, when used as nouns, with the inflection of the plural, see, if need be, Abbott, § 433.
45. Giue him] That is, represent him.
47. primall state] Wordsworth (p. 337) : I am inclined to think there b a reference here to the meaning of Cain's name, ' a man gotten from the Lord,' at hb mother's wish. See Gen. iv, I and margin. Compare the use of the word ' primal ' in Hamlet III, iii, 37 ; also with reference to Cain : ' It hath the primal eldest cuise upon 't, A brother's murder ! *
ACT I, sc. iv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 6$
That he which is was wifht, vntill he were: 48
And the ebbM man,
Ne're louM, till ne're worth loue, 50
Comes feared, by being lacked. This common bodie,
49. 50. One line, Rowe et scq. 51. feaf'd'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Knt,
50. n^re wcr/A"] not worth Mai. conj. Coll. i. dearKWy, dear' dTheoh, etcet Rjuin. TAtsI The Han.
51. Comes fear'd, by being lack'd] Warburton : Let us examine the sense of this in plain prose : ' The earliest histories inform us, that the man in supreme com- mand was alwa^rs wish'd to gain that command, till he had obtain*d it. And he, vbom the multitude has contentedly seen in a low condition, when he begins to be wanted by them, becomes to be "fear'd'' by them.' But do the multitude fear a man because they want him? Certainly, we must read : 'Comes deat'd, by being lacked,' t. /. endear* d, a favourite to them. Besides, the context requires this read- ily ; for it was not fear, but love, that made the people flock to young Pompey and what occasioned this reflection. So in Coriolanus .* ' I shall be lon^d^ when I am lack'd.' Malone : Something, however, is yet wanting. What is the meaning of — * ne'er lov'd till n^er worth love ? ' I suppose that the second * ne'er' was inad- 'vertently repeated at the press, and that we should read *till not worth love.' Kmight [who follows the Folio] : The general reading is dear'd. But it must be lemembered that Caesar is speaking ; and that, in the notions of one who aims at supreme authority, to be feared and to be loved are pretty s3monymous. Collier (ed. i, also following the Folio) : Warburton' s alteration is plausible, but does not seem necessary. Caesar may mean, that Pompey, by being so much backed by the people, has become powerful, and is therefore < fear'd.' 3id, (ed. ii, adopting lot^d finom his MS) : We accept the emendation of the MS with confidence, not lessened by the Shakespearian alliteration thus afibrded. The meaning is too plain to need ex- planation. [In his TTiird Edition Collier adopted Warburton's deat^dJ] J. Crosby (ShaJkespeariana^ Dec 1 883, p. 46) suggests that 'fear'd' should be 'spelt ^feer'dy abbreviated from affeet'd, i. ^., estimated at its true worth, appraised, valued,* [This si^gestion would be almost conclusive, were it possible to find a single instance where affeer is abbreviated to *feer, or where even any of the word's modifications is so abbreviated. Not an instance is to be found, I think, in the N. E. D, nor in Wright's English Dialect Dictionary, where such an abbreviation could not £ul to be given, if it had been ever used in any English dialect Caesar is in a bitter mood. To his vexation over Anthony's misdoings is now added the morti- fying news that those whose love for him had changed to fear were flocking to Pcxmpey. Whereupon he begins to moralize and sa3rs that he ought to have known that this would be so, because from time immemorial he who is in power was loved up to the very moment when he attained that power. Then he became feared and people deserted him (just as they had deserted him for Pompey). Next, through this desertion, he becomes an ebb'd man. And this ebb'd man (again a victim of popular caprice, and now loved when all his power is gone and there is no longer profit in loving him), by being missed and wanted again by the people, comes again to be feared. Thus the common people go to and back, hither and yon, like a vaga- bond flag on the stream. If this interpretation be just, Warburton's emendation, deaf'd, is needless, and the text of the Folio may be vindicated. — Ed.]
5
66
THE TRACE DIE OF
[act I, sc. iv.
Like to a Vagabond Flagge vpon the Streame, Goes too, and backe, lacking the vanying tyde To rot it felfe with motion.
Mef. Ccefar I bring thee word, Menacraies and Menas famous Fyrates Makes the Sea ferue them, which they eare and wound With keeles of euery kinde. Many hot inrodes They make in Italy, the Borders Maritime Lacke blood to think e on't, and flufh youth reuolt, No Veflell can peepe forth : but 'tis as foone Taken as feene : for Pompeyes name ftrikes more
52
55
6o
62
52. to\ Om. Ran. Var. '03, '13, '21. VagtUf(md'\ VagobondY^
53. to6\ to F^. backe'\ fro Ktly.
lackiHg\ Yi^ Rowe. laskingYG^, kuquying Theob. Han. Warb. lacquing Johns, lackying Cap. lackeying Steev. et seq. tacking Gould.
varrying'\ F,.
54. [Enter another Messenger. Cap. Ran.
56. Menacrates] Menecrates F^.
57. Makes'\ Make Y^ et seq. eare'\ tear Grey (ii, 197).
58. keeU5\ kneels Fj. knells F^. inrodes^ Rowe, Pope, 'Hieob.
Warb. Johns, inroads Han.
59. Italy ^"l Italy: Cap. et seq. (iO.Jlu/h youth reuolt\/le/kyoutk revolt
Y^ flejh youth to revolt FjF^, Rowe. fresh youth revolt Anon. ap. Hal. 61. frrth .] frrthy Ff et seq.
53. lacking] Theobald: The addition of a single letter [to the word in the Folio] will not only give us good sense, but the genuine word of our author into the bargain : — ' Lackeying the varying Tide/ t. /. floating backwards and forwards with the variation of the tide, like a page, or lacquey, at his master's heels. Strevens : Compare Chapman's Iliad \ * My guide to Argos, either shipped, or lackeying by thy side,' Bk. 24tb, [line 392.] Again, * — who would willingly Lackey along so vast a lake of brine.' — Odyssey^ Bk. 5, [line I30.] Again in Marston's Antonio and Mel- Hda^ 1602 : ' O that our power Could lackie or keep wing with our desires.* — Second Part^ Prologue, CoLUER (ed. i) : Southern in his Folio, 1685, altered Macking' to backing, Haluwell (Notes^ etc. p. 13) : ' Lacking ' is rather a variation of form than an error. The same orthography occurs in a MS dated 1615, quoted by Haw- kins, in his edition of Ruggle's Ignoramus^ 17S7, Appendix, p. 120. J. Churton Collins (p. 299) : Theobald gave us back one of the finest onomatopoeic lines in Shakespeare :— GOH fo aHd bSCk iRkllyiffg thl$ ySf^ Ede.
55. Mes.] Stbevens : Perhaps another Messenger should be noted here, as enter- ing with fresh news. Heyss (p. 146) makes the same suggestion, ' inasmuch as Cassar had been assured that he should *' every hour have report How 'tis abroad." That this second messenger brings nothing absolutdy new is no more than is to be expected from reports every hour.*
57. eare] Johnson : To *ear' is \xypl9ugk\ a conunon metaphor.
6a Lacke blood to think e on't] Johnson : Turn pale at die thought of it.
60. flush youth] Steevens : That is, youth ripened to manhood ; youth whose blood is at the flow.
ACT I. sc. iv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 67
Then could his Warre refifted. 63
Ca/ar. Anthonyy Leaue thy lafciuious Vaffailes* When thou once 65
Was beaten from Medena^ where thou flew'ft HirfiuSy and Paufa Confuls, at thy heele Did Famine follow, whom thou fought'fl againft, (Though daintily brought vp) with patience more Then Sauages could fuffer. Thou did'ft drinke 70
65. VafaUes] F,. Vaffaiis F,. Vaffals dma North's Plat Johns, et seq. F^, Rowe, Knt. wassails Pope et cet. 67. Hirfius] Hirtias F^ et seq. (subs.) Paufa] Panfa Ff.
66. Was'\ Wert Ff, Rowe, + , Cap. (A. foll(nVy'\ folkw ; Qk^ e, wt^ Wast Var. '78 et seq. whom\ which Han.
fKu...Medena] FromMtUinawas fought'Jl'\ /a$ight*Jt F,.
healen Han. 69. with'] bore with Wray ap. Cam.
Medena] Mutina Rowe,+ . Mo- 7a Then] Than F^.
65. Vassailes] Steevens : Wassel is here put for intemperance in general. Hen- IXT: * Vassals' is, without question, the true reading. Knight: Wassal is em- ployed by Shakspere in the strict meaning of drunken revelry; and that could acaicely be called * lascivious.' On the contrary, 'leave thy lascivious vassals* expresses Caesar's contempt for Qeopatra and her minions, who were strictly the vas- sals of Antony, the queen being one of his tributaries. Dycs (ed. ii): Knight prints ' vassals,' though the rest of the speech so distinctly shows that here wassails and not * vassals ' sure in question. Collier : Either reading may be right ; but vassal was not usually, though sometimes, spelt vassaile, and nothing is more likely than that the old compositor should use v for w, Caesar has previously accused Antony of * tippling with a slave,' and ' reeling the streets at noon,' which counte- nances wassails as an old drinking term ; and, in addition, we may state that ' vas- sailes' is amended to wassails in the MS. [According to Bartlett's Concordance, * vassal ' or * vassals ' occurs twenty times elsewhere in Shakespeare, which added to the present instance make twenty-one ; of this number three occur in the present play; in a third of the instances it is spelt in the Folio vassaile or vassailes; it is also so spelt in Sonnet j8. In none of these instances, except in the present, has there been any suggestion of wassail; nor can I see any necessity for such a sugges- tion here, in spite of the dogmatic assertion of Dyce, whose note, to my regret, I do not comprehend. It is really not clear to me that Anthony ought to leave his revelry in Egypt, because * the rest of the speech so distinctly shows ' that some time pre- viously, at Modena, he drank gilded puddles and browsed on bark. The adjective which qualifies ' vassailes,' seems to me to be far more appropriate to humankind than to drinking bouts. In the present play, it is spelt < vassaile,' II, vi, 71, and ' vassal,' V, ii, 35. It b to be borne in mind that the spelling of the compositors of the Folio is so lawless, that any appeal to its uniformity is generally useless. — Ed.]
67. Hirsius, and Pausa] See Appendix^ Plutarch,
69, 7a more Then Sauages could suffer, etc.] HAzuin^ (p. 99) : It is worth while to observe that Shakespear has contrasted the extreme magnificence of the descriptions in this play with pictures of extreme suffering and physical horror, not
68
THE TRACED IE OF
[act I, sc. iv.
The dale of Horfes, and the gilded Puddle
Which Beafls would cough at Thy pallat th^ did daine
The rougheft Berry, on the rudeft Hedge.
Yea, like the Stagge, when Snow the Pafture (heets.
The barkes of Trees thou brows'd. On the Alpes,
It is reported thou did'ft eate ftrange flefh.
Which fome did dye to looke on : And all this
( It wounds thine Honor that I fpeake it now )
Was borne fo like a Soldiour, that thy cheeke
So much as lank'd not
Lep. 'Tis pitty of him.
C(Bf. Let his (hames quickely Driue him to Rome, 'tis time we twaine Did (hew our felues iWField, and to that end Affemble me immediate counfell, Potnpey
71
75
80
85
72. dMfu\ dain F^^. deign Pope.
75. br(rufj^d'\ brow/edft Ff.
76. reported'\ repoted Fj.
79. bom/\ bom Pope, Cap. bore Theob. ii, Warb. Johns. Var. '73.
Soldiour] Souldiour F,. Souldier Fj. Souldiers F^. Soldier Rowe.
80. as lank'd] as I lanJ^d F^F^. as lanJked Anon. ap. Cam.
81. ' 7«] // is Han. Johns. Var. Ran. Steev. Ay, *lis Anon. ap. Cam.
82-84. Lei.., end] Lines end, lime... endKtlj.
83. Rome,'] Rome disgrae'd Mai. conj. *lis lime] time is it, that Pope, + »
Cap. Var. ^tis time indeed Steev. conj. V&r time at least Words.
84. Vth'] itk F,. ith' FjF^.
85. me] we Ff, Rowe, + , Cap. Ran. Steev. Var. Coll. Sing. Dyce, Wh. Glo. Sta.
immediate] immediately Fy im- mediatly F^.
counfell,] F,. councei, F^F^. cou$uil; Rowe.
less striking — partly perhi4>s to excuse the effeminacy of Mark Antony of whom they are rdated as having happened, but more to preserve a certain balance of feel- ing in the mind. [See Appendix, Plutarch.]
71. The stale of Horses] Steevens: All these circumstances of Antony's dis- tress are taken literally from Plutarch. [The present item is not in Plutarch. — Ed.]
71. gilded Puddle] Henley : There is frequently observable on the surface of stagnant pools, that have remained long undisturbed, a reddish gold-coloured slime.
81. 'Tis pitty of him] Abbott (§ 174): 'Of passes easily from meaning as regards to to concerning, about. [This half-line and the preceding, * So much as lank'd not,' Abbott (§510) combines into one metrical line by * giving the full pro- nunciation to ' ' lank^d.' But b not thereby the evident intention of throwing the emphasis on **Tis* defeated? For 'of,' see Franz, § 364; V, i, 81. — Ed.]
85. Assemble me immediate coonsell] M alone: I do not recollect any instance where Shakespeare has introduced this [ethical dative] in solemn dialogue, where one equal is speaking to another. Perhaps the second Folio is right So * Haste we' II, ii, 194 [* dispatch we,' II, ii, 195]. Knight: The modem read-
ACT I, sc. v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA
69
Thriues in our IdlenefTe.
Lep. To morrow Ccefary I (hall be fumifht to informe you rightly Both what by Sea and Land I can be able To front this prefent time.
Qe/niiX which encounter, it is my bufmes too. Farwell.
Z^/.Farwell my Lord, what you fhal know mean time Of ftirres abroad, I (hall befeech you Sir To let me be partaker.
CiB/ar. Doubt not fir, I knew it for my Bond. Exeunt
86
90
95
\Scene K]
Enter CleopatrUy CharmtaHy IraSy & Mardian. Cleo. Charmian. Char. Madam.
S9. Boihwhat'\WithwhatybothYi'CLy, With what Anon. ap. Cam.
be able\ assemble Anon. ap. Cam.
90, 91. Tc.eHcomUer^ As one line Pope et seq.
90. fromt'\ ^ front Cap. Var. Ran. Steer. Var. Sing. Ktly.
91. it f j] * Tis Pope. Farwell'] Om. Han.
99-94. Farwell.,, partaker] Lines end, Lord., Mbroad.,. partaker. Popey + . 93f ^ Sir To\ Om. Pope, +.
94. partaker] partaker o/YjXy.
95. Doubt] Doubt it Tbeob. + , Var. Rftn.
/ir] Om. Pope.
95. /... Bond] Separate line, Cap. Steev. Var. Knt, Coll. ii. Sing. Djrce, Glo. Sta. KUy.
knew] know Walker, Dyce ii, iii. Bond] bond. Farewell Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
Scene III. Rowe. Scene VI. Pope. Scene V. Cap. ct seq.
Alexandria. Rowe. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. Theob.
1. Enter...] Enter Qeopatra, support- ing herself on Iras ; Charmian and Mar- dian following. Cap.
2. Charmian.] Charmian^ — Theob. et seq.
ing is * Assemble we; * and it is justified by the assertion that one equal is speaking to another. The commentators forget the contempt Csesar had for Lepidus ; they forget, too, the crouching humility of Lepidus himself [as shown in lines 93, 94. What Knight says about the slight estimation in which Csesar held Lepidus is true enough and ingenious enough, but it may be doubted that Csesar would thus give Lepi- dus ordeis as though he were a servant, especially since Lepidus would be himself of the council when assembled. I prefer we of F^ — Ed.].
95. I knew it for my Bond] M. Mason : That is, to be bounden duty. [I do not see the force of the past tense, ' knew.' Walker ( Crit. iii, 295 ) says * Of course, kncWf* and one is inclined to acquiesce. Of the foregoing scene, Vischrr (p. 88) remarks that it might be dispensed with altogether or combined with a later one. — Ed.]
yo THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sc. t.
CUo. Ha^ ha, giue itie to drinke Mandragoru. 4
4. Ha^ ha^'\ Hoy ha — Rowe,+. As 4. Mandrmgoru] Mandngoims Ff,
separate line. Steer, et seq. (subs.) Rowe, Pope, Tbeob. Han. Warb. Mam-
dragora Johns, et seq.
4. Ha, ha,] It is not easj to decide how this exclamation should be, spelt, expres- sive as it is of mingled weariness and impatience. What is, ponibly, the modem equivalent was spelt by Shake^are's compositors five times < heigh ho ' and once ' hey ho.' I say * modem equivalent ' because Shakespeare does not always employ it to express weariness, for example, in the song in As You Like It^ * Then heigh ho, the kolly, This life is most jolly.* In the present instance, howsoever it be spelt, it is not laughter, any more than is Othello's agonized, < Ha, ha, false to me ? ' — Ed.
4. giue me to drinke] Deighton : Not ' give me mandragora to drink,' but ' enable me, put it in my power, to drink mandragora,' as in Othello^ II, Hi, 209, *■ Give me to knew How this foul rout began.' [I think these two instances are hardly parallel. Othello demands certain information and follows up this demand with direct ques- tions. Qeopatra gives a command which she does not expect to be obeyed ; and would probably have refused the smallest sip, had mandragora been really brought to her. — Ed.]
4. Mandragoru] In the Text, Notes of the Cam, Ed, < Mandragora ' is given as the word in F,. This is possibly an instance, among many, of a variation in copies of the same edition. It is clearly * Mandragoru ' in my copy of F, ; it is so also in Yernor and Hood's Reprint oi 1807 ; in Booth's Reprint, and in Staunton's Phot^- Kihograpk. It is a matter of very small importance, and serves only as a warning against a reliance, too implicit, on the spelling of Shakespeare's compositors. — Ed.
4. Mandragoru] * Mandragora hath that name, for it beareth apples with great savour of the greatnesse of the apples of Madan, and is called Malum terre among Latines. And Poets call it Antropomoros^ for the root thereof is some deale shapen as a man : the rinde thereof medled with Wine is giuen to them to drinke that shall be cut in the body, for they shuld sleepe and not feele the sore cutting. . . . And Di&sco, saith, that Mandragora is a sleeping hearbe. . . . For the rindes thereof sod in Wine, cause sleepe, &* abateth all manner sorenesse : and so that time a man feeleth vnneth, though he bee cut.* — Batman vppon Bartholomew 1582, Liber XVII, Chap. 104, p. 304. Page after page could be quoted of the superstitions which have clustered about this plant. All that Cleopatra cared for here and now was its nar- cotic power, and that quality is all that a note need set forth. Therefore it is, that only the forgoing extract from Bartholome is given, — a book probably less accessible to the general reader than many another. Should a student wish, however, to pur- sue the subject further, he is referred to : — Lyte's trans, of Dodoens, ed. 1578, p. 437; Holland's Plinie, tome II, bk. zxv, ch. 13, ed. 1634; Gerarde's Herhall, p. 351, ed. 1633; Lupton's Thousand Notable things of sundrie sortes^ Third Booke, 43, ed. 1627 (where directions may be found < to make a counterfet Mandrage, which hath been sold by deceiuers, for much money ' ) ; Nares, s, v. ; EUacombe, Plant Lore^ p. 117 ; Grindon, Shakspere Flora , p. 290 ; Seager, Natural History in Shake- speares Time, p. 195 ; or Othello, III, iii, 384 ; Rom, 6r» Jul. IV, iii, 47 of this Edition. Finally, there is an exhaustive discussion of it, historically and botanically, by Prof. Ferd. Cohn in the FUnfundsechzigster Jahres-Beficht der Schlesuehem Gesellschaft f, vaterldndische Cultur, Breslau, 1888, p. 285.~£d.
ACT I, sc, v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
n
Char. Why Madam ?
CUo. That I might fleepe out this great gap of time : My Anthony is away.
Char. You thinke of him too much.
Cleo. O 'tis Treafon.
Char. Madam, I trafl not fo.
Cleo. Thou, Eunuch Mardianl
Mar. What's your Highnefle pleafure ?
Cleo. Not now to heare thee fmg. I take no pleafure In ought an Eunuch ha's : Tis well for thee, That being vnfeminar'd, thy freer thoughts May not flye forth of Egypt. Haft thou Affeftions ?
Mar. Yes gracious Madam.
Cleo. Indeed ?
Mar. Not in deed Madam, for I can do nothing But what in deede is honeft to be done : Yet hauc I fierce Afre£lions,and thinke
5
ID
IS
20
6. Hme/\ Ff. time Knt, Dyce, Wh. Glo. Cam. Hnu^ Rowe et cet. (sabs.)
8. /^iRMM-A] Separate line, Cap. Steev.
9. O '/w] O, that is Han. O /— Cap. O^ Steer. Oh I it is Ktlj.
II. 7%ou, Eunuch'] Thou, Eunuch, Rowe, Theob. Warb. Johns. Cap. Coll. Wh. TkMi eunuch, Pope, Han. Thou ! Eunuch I Var. '73. Thou, eunuch ! Var. '78^ Mai. Steer. Knt.
II. Mardian/] Mardian— Theob.
14. ought] aught Theob. ii, Warb. Johns. Var. '73 et scq.
15. vn/eminar^ d] unfeminaried Yi, Rowe.
19. in deed] indeed Y^^,
20. in deede] indeed Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. Warb. Cap. Var. ♦Ss, Knt, Sing. Dyce, SU. Glo. Cam. Ktly, Wh. ii.
Mrs Jamsson (p. 130) : Finer still are the workings of her variable mind and lirely imagination, after Antony's departure ; her fond repining at his absence, her violent spirit, her right royal wilfulness and impatience, as if it were a wrong to her majerty, an insult to her sceptre, that there should exist in her despite such things as space and time ; and high treason to her sovereign power, to dare to remember what she chooses to forget
6, 7. this great gap of time : My Anthony is away] The modem punctuation, either with or without a comma aAer < time,' is, I think, much to be prefened to the colon of the Folio, and yet it does not convey exactly the meaning of the Folio. According to the Folio, Cleopatra seems to say in effect, < That I might sleep out this great gap of time. Cannot you understand ? My Anthony is away.' — Ed.
9. O 'tis Treason] Stbbvens deemed this phrase 'cold and unmetrical,' he, therefore omitted < 'tis.' Walker ( Crit, iii, 295) agreed with him in the omission. And both were anticipated by Capkll.
16. May not flye forth of Egypt] For several other examples of this somewhat unusual form, ' forth of,' see Franz, § 388, /) : Compare also, IV, z, 9, < They have put foith the Hauen,' where * forth ' is a true preposition.
72 THE TRACED IE OF [act I. sc. v.
What Venus did with Mars. 22
Cleo. Oh Charmion : Where think'ft thou he is now? Stands he, or fits he ? Or does he walke? Or is he on his Horfe ? 25
Oh happy horfe to beare the weight of Anthony ! Do brauely Horfe, for wot'ft thou whom thou moou'ft, The demy Atlas of this Earth, the Arme And Burganet of men. Hee's fpeaking now. Or murmuring, where's my Serpent of old Nyle, 30
( For fo he cals me:) Now I feede my felfe With moft delicious poyfon. Thinke on me 32
23. Charmion.-] Chaimian ; F,F^. 29. m^it] »wif Ff, Rowe,+, Cap. Var. Charmain ; F . Charmian I Rowe. Ran.
24. Stands he\ Stands F^F^. 29-34. Mnemonic lines, Warb.
28. demy Atlas] demi- Atlas Steev. et 3'* 32* me :').,. poy/on^ Thinke'\ m* — seq. ,,. poison — thinks Ktly.
29. Burganet ] Burgonet Ff.
28. the Arme] Coluer : By * arm ' is probably to be understood weapon.
29. Burganet] Murray {^N, E. D,)\ An adaptation of Old French bourgutg- notte, apparently formed on Bourgogne, Burgundy, b. A helmet with a visor, so fitted to the gorget or neck-piece, that the head could be turned without exposing the neck.
29. men] Although the reading of the First Folio should not be disturbed, the reading of the Folios, * man,' with its all-embracing scope seems the finer ; Anthony is the demi-Atlas of the earth, the arm and burgonet of all the inhabitants thereof. — Ed.
29. Hee's speaking now, etc.] Hazlitt (p. 97) : Few things in Shakespear (and we know of nothing in any other author like them) have more of that local truth of imagination and character than the passage in which Cleopatra is represented conjecturing what were the employments of Antony in his absence. * He's speaking now, or murmuring — Where's my serpent of old Nile f^ Or again, when she says to Antony, after the defeat at Actium, and his summoning up resolution to risk another fight — ' It is my birth-day ; I had thought to have held it poor ; but since my lord is Antony again, I will be Qeopatra.' [This 'birthday,* Shakespeare fotmd in Plutarch.]
31, 32. cals me:) . . . Thinke] Keightley (Exp. 312) : * For so he calls me — Now I feed myself With most delicious poison — thinks on me,* etc. It is thus I would give force to the passage. The appeal to those present is feeble. [In considering * Now I feed myself With most delicious poison * as parenthetical, Keightley is anticipated by Capell. What Keighdey may gain in force by continuing in thinks the nominative of ' calls,* does he not lose in elegance by adopting a commercial style in omitting ^/— Ed.]
31. Now I feede my selfe] Seward (Preface to Beaumont &» Fletcher, p. Ixvi) : The editions which distinguish Antony* s speech, either by Italics or commas, make him only say, * where's my serpent of old Nile?* and the rest is Cleopatra's own. But surely it is a strange compliment only to call her a < serpent of Nile.' And whj
ACT I. sc. v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 73
That am with Phcebus amorous pinches blacke, 33
And wrinkled deepe in time. Broad-fronted Ccefar^
When thou was^t heere aboue the ground, I was 35
A morfell for a Monarke : and great Pompey
Would fland and make his ^y^s grow in my brow,
There would he anchor his Afpeft, and dye 38
34. /r«^.] Ff, Pope, + , Wh. i. time! 36. Pompey] Pompey s son Anon.
Var. '73, Ktly. time t Rowe et cet. (MS in Editor's copy of FJ.
36. for a] of a F^F^, Rowe.
then does she mention it as a wonder that he should say such rapturous things of her in her decline of life ? No, Antony's speech should be continued as the metaphor is: * Where's my serpent of old Nile? — Now I feed myself With most delicious poison. — ' Both parts belong to him; and then she goes on, ' Think,' says she, ' that he utters such raptures as these on me, tho' now wrinkled deep in Time/ [It is almost needless to remark that no one has ever adopted this arrangement. — Ed.]
32. most delicious poyson] It is poison because the reminiscence < works like madness in her veins.*
32-34. Tbinke on me . . . wrinkled deepe in time] Theobald, in his first edition included these lines in quotation marks, for which he has nowhere, that I can find, offered any explanation. It is not his custom so to mark mnemonic lines ; only Pope and Warburton thus mark them. They were not repeated in his Second £di£ion,
33. with Phcebus amorous pinches blacke] Hazlitt (EliMobethan Literature, p. 52, ed. 1S69) sajTS that this line of Qeopatra is the same as the following exclam- ation of Eleazer, the Moor, in Lusfs Dominion : — * Now by the proud complexion of my cheeks, Ta'en from the kisses of the amorous sun.' — III, iv, p. 140, ed. Haz. Dodsley. Collier thinks that Lusfs Dominion was probably written in 1599 — i6co. There is, however, but little parallelism between the two passages. It is only by a flight of fancy that ' kisses' can tura a fair cheek black (they generally turn it red)^ bat an * amorous pinch ' is a * feeling disputation ' which is sure to be followed by black traces. — Ed.
34. wrinkled deepe in time.] It is almost impossible to accept the interrogation mark which a large majority of editors have followed Rowe in placing at the end of this sentence. Cleopatra is wrapt out of herself by the delicious poison, and apostro- phises the absent Anthony, just as, in the next line, she apostrophises the dead Caesar. — Ed.
34. Broad-fronted Csesar] Seward ( Preface to Beaumont &» Fletcher, p. Ixvi) : Is there the least ground from Medals, Statues, or History for this description of Caesar ? No, but the very reverse. . Look on his medals, and particularly on the fine bronze at Dr Mead's, and you'll find that he has a remarkably sharp for ehecui. But there is a peculiarity in Caesar's forehead mentioned by all Historians, and con- firmed by medals and statues. He was bald, and boasted that he would cover his temples with laurels instead of hair ; and, for that purpose, af^er he was Dictator, con- stantly wore his laurel -crown. I read therefore, * ^aAZ-fronted Caesar.' Henley sees in ' broad-fronted ' the very allusion to baldness which Seward denies.
38. AspecSt] For a list of other words * in which the accent is nearer the end than with us,' see Abbott, § 490.
74 THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sa v.
With looking on his life. 39
Enter Alexasfrom Cce/ar. 40
Alex, Soueraigne of Egypt, haile.
Cleo. How much vnlike art thou Marke Anthony ? Yet comming from him, that great Medicine hath With his Tinft gilded thee. How goes it with my braue Marke Anthonie ? 45
Alex. Laft thing he did (deere Qu ene) He kifl the lafl of many doubled kifTes 47
40. Enter...] Enter Alexas. Rowe, + . 46. Laft thing\ The very last tkimg
42. vnlike art thou\ art thou like that Words.
FjF^. art thou unlike Rowe, + . Qu ene] F,.
Anthony?] Ff, Rowe, + . An- ^T. kiJl„.kiJ[fes\kift.,Mffes^Yi. kist,
tony ; CoW, Antony / CBp. et cci, ...kisses, Theob.
43, 44. that great Med'cine hath With his Tin A gilded thee] There seems to have been, of old, some nicety observed in the spelling of Medicine. Hanmer here spells it < Med'cin/ and Capell, who in his text spells it, ' Med' cine/ as it is in the Folio, says in his Notes that it should have been spelt MetTcin^ because ' the appellation is given to Antony, as being the curer of all her sorrows.' On the other hand, Hanmer in Airs IVell, II, i, 74, *l have seen a medicine That's able to breathe life into a stone,' spells the word in question, Afedecine, and, in a note, says it is ' here put for a She-physician.* So that according to Hanmer, we have MecTcin, masculine, Medecine, feminine. Walker ( Crit. iii, 295 ) also thinks that ' medi- cine ' in the present passage means physician. Johnson comes nearer the truth, I think, when he says that there is here an allusion < to the philosophers stone, which, by its touch, converts base metal into gold. The Alchemists call the matter, what- ever it may be, by which they perform transmutation, a medicine.^ The particular < medicine ' Qeopatra refers to, is, I think, the elixir vitae, which is what Anthony certainly was to her, and into this elixir, gold enters as an essential ingredient, hence the word * gilded.' There would have been no thought that Anthony was himself the physician, I think, had the use of its been so common that Cleopatra could have said * that great medicine hath With its tinct gilded thee.' As to any distinction between Med^cin and Medicine, if there be a reference to it in the N, E. Z>., it has escaped me. — Ed.
47. doubled kisses] Capell (i, 30) : Should a man be so hardy, as to say — that <the last of many doubl'd kisses' is predicated of the < pearl,' might he expect pardon ? Grammar is on his side, and the truth of construction ; But where find a reason why a pearl should be called so ? The pearl is met with in oisters that are found in some particular seas ; and naturalists tell us, — it is at first a small seed, that has a kind of growth in the shell it adheres to ; which growth is effected by the accession of coat after coat, one enclosing other in the manner of onions : Now, is it too great a liberty for a poet to say of it, — that the fish it's mother forms those coats by a repetition of touchings, which he calls — * kisses? ' if this will not be allow' d of, a better solution must be sought for ; and no such offers itself at present This dr- cmnstance of the pearl is not in Plutarch : but there is mention in Pliny — of a peari
ACT I. sc v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 75
This Orient Pearle. His fpeech flickes in my heart 48
CUo. Mine eare muft plucke it thence.
Alex. Good Friend, quoth he : S^
Say the firme Roman to great Egypt fends This treafure of an Oyfter : at whofe foote To mend the petty prefent, I will peece Her opulent Throne, with Kingdomes. All the Eaft, ( Say thou ) (hall call her Miftris. So he nodded, 55
And foberly did mount an Arme-gaunt Steede,
50. Friend^ Friends Rowe ii, Pope. M. Mason, Steev. Var. '03, *I3, Hazlitt
51. firm€\ firm F F^. an arrosrant Boaden, Sing. Ktly, Dtn.
53. peece\ piece F^F^. pace Warb. a merchant Bulloch, an ardent Kin- Han, space Gtej, near, an amte-^* raunt Gould, a darM
56. an Arme-gaunt ] Ff. an arm-girt Word*, an arm-zoned Joictj (N 6* Qu, Han. Coll. ii, Wh. Huds. a termagant VII, xii, 342).
of incredible value, belonging to Cleopatra ; and this, it is probable, was Antony's * petty present.' [Anthony showed the wild warmth of his love and longing by donUed and redoubled kisses. — Ed.]
48. Orient] Staunton : That is, pellucid, lustrous. [Thus, Milton : < His orient liquor in a crystal glass.' — Comus, ^j.]
51. the finne Roman] Walker (Crit. iii, 295) : What can 'firm' mean here? Read *ihit first Roman.' *But,' asks Dyce (ed. ii) 'does not "firm" mean con- stanif'
52. at whose foote] Theobald (ed. i) : This has relation neither to Qeopatra, nor her throne ; but means, that in sequel of the present sent, he would second it with a richer. We have a similar expression in II, ii, 184, < At heele of that, defie him.'
55. peece] Warburton: This expression of 'piecing her throne' is indeed tolerable ; but barely so. No bungling carpenter could have expressed his labour worse. I suspect that Shakespeare wrote, ' I will pace Her opulent throne,' 1. e. I will erect an imperial throne for her, and every step up to it shall be a kingdom. The expression is noble, and the idea vastly magnificent. Seward {Preface, p. Izvii) : To piece, to this day signifies to join two pieces together, or to fasten new parts to anything, as to piece a rope, to piece a beam, I will join new kingdoms to her Dominions, and make her Queen of Asia as well as Egypt. Schmidt {Lex. s. v. Piece, vb. 3) to the same effect furnishes the following : — < all of it with our dis- pleasure pieced.' — Lear, I, i, 203 ; ' I twice five hundred and their friends to piece 'em.' — Cor. II, iii, 220 ; and two or three other examples.
54. opalent] Deighton: It is perhaps doubtful whether this means 'already opulent,' or ' which shall thereby be made opulent.'
56. an Arme-gaunt Steede] Warburton : That is, his steed worn lean and thin by much service in war. So Fairfax, ' His stall-worn steed the champion stout bestrode.' Seward (Preface, p. Ixvii) : Why must Antony . . . have nothing to ride on bat an old battered lean war-horse? ... By 'arm' we all understand the shoulder, in Latin armus ; 'gaunt' is lean or thin. . . . 'Arm-gaunt' therefore sig- nifies thin-shouldered, which we know to be one of the principal beauties of a horse. Edwards (p. 131, where he proposes, independently, the same meaning as Seward) :
76 THE TRACED IE OF [act i, sc. v.
[56. an Anne-gaunt Steede] Mr Warburton here seems to have stolen Don Quixote's Rosinante, to mount the demi- Atlas of this earth. . . . However, he seems to have matched him well, with one from Fairfax who is UcUl-worn, , . . But Mr Warburton, who made this match, has played us a Yorkshire trick ; and the odds are prodigiously on old FairCiuc's side ; for when I come to look upon him in his stable, he is really not a stcUl-wam^ but a stahoortk steed; now stalworth or stalwart, signifies bold, ctmrageous, strong, Heath (p. 452) : < Arm-gaunt' is in my apprehension, a steed whose annour fitted him, and set close about him. Johnson : Arm is the Teutonick word for want, or poverty, 'Arm-gaunt' may be therefore an old word, signifying lean for want, ill fed. Edwards's observation, that a worn-out horse is not proper for Atlas to mount in battle, is impertinent ; the horse here mentioned seems to be a post-horse, rather than a war-horse. Yet as < arm-gaunt ' seems not intended to imply any defect, it perhaps means, a horse so slender that a man might clsLsp him, and therefore formed for expedition. Malone: On this passage, which I believe to be corrupt, I have nothing satisfactory to propose. It is clear that whatever epithet was used, it was intended as descriptive of a beautiful horse, such (we may presume) as our author has described in his Venus and Adonis. M. Mason : I should amend by reading : ' a termagant steed. That neigh'd,' etc. Termagant means furious. So Douglas, in Henry IV, is called the termagant Scot, an epithet that agrees well with the steed's neighing so high. Besides, by saying that Antony mounted composedly a horse of such metde, Alexas presents Cleopatra with a flattering image of her hero, which his mounting slowly a jaded post-horse, would not have done. Stkevens : When I first met with Mason's conjecture, I own I was startled at his boldness ; but that I have since been reconciled to it, its appearance in the present text of Shak- speare will sufficiendy prove. The sobriety displayed by Antony in mounting a steed of temper so opposite, reminds us of a similar contrast in Addison's celebrated com- parison of the Angel : ' Calm and serene he drives the furious blast' Boswkll : May I be permitted to throw out a conjecture, as to which I myself have no great con- fidence. Gaunt is certainly thin ; but as it is generally used in speaking of animals made savage by hunger, such as 2l gaunt wolf, % gaunt mastiff, it is possible that it may derivatively have acquired the sense of fierce, and an arm-gaunt steed may signify a steed looking fierce in armour. Nares ( Gloss. s,v,)\ It seems to me that Warburton though he failed in his proof, gave the interpretation best suited to the text, worn by military service. This implies the military activity of the master; all the rest of the senses are reproachful, and are therefore inconsistent with the speech which is made to display the gallantry of a lover to his mistress. Dycs (Notes, p. 151) quotes Nares with approval, and adds that he has not the slightest doubt that Collier' s MS and Hanmer were right in their ' ^roi-girt, ' Knight : * Arm-gaunt ' con- veys the notion of a steed fierce and terrible in armour ; and the epithet therefore is not to be lightly replaced by any other. Collier (ed. i) : ' That is, a horse which had perhaps become gaunt by bearing arms. However this is doubtful.' Collier in his Second Edition adopted the change of his MS, arm-girt, ' which accords with Han- mer's suggestion : arm-girt is, of course, girded with armour.' In his Third Edition, he discarded arm-girt and returned to * arm-gaunt ' which, he says, • is very intelli- gible, and not less forcible.' W. N. L[ettsom?] (N, 6* Qu, I, vii, 378, 1853) : This appears to me a mere misprint for rampaunt, but whether rampaunt was Shake* speare's word or a transcriber's sophistication for ramping is more than I can under- take to determine. ... At one period to ramp and \q prance seem to have been
ACT I, sc. v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 77
[56. an Anne-gaunt Steede] ayiHiujmons. Spenser makes the horses of night * fiercely ramp/ and Surrey exhibits m. prancing lion. R. G. White {^Sh.^s Scholar^ 1854, p. 448) made the same emen- dation. PERRING (p. 436) also approTes, and, on the suppositioQ that the phrase oiiginally stood on a rampaunt^ furnishes an imaginary genealogy of the word as we BOW hare it, thus : — arampaunt, aramgauni^ amigauni. Singer : The epithet, arrogant [adopted in Singer's text], is the happy suggestion of Mr fioaden, and is to be preferred, both on account of its more striking propriety and because it admits of the original article, < an ' retaining its place before it. R. G. White : Being able to disooTer no meaning in * arme-gaunt,' I hardly hesitate to substitute Hanmer's arm- girt, Haluwell: 'Arm-gaunt,' that is, a steed as thin as one's arm, one worn lean and thin by excessive service in war. Chaucer hsLS a similar compound, arm- greity as large as the arm, — * His lange heer y-kempt byh)md his bak, As eny raven lether it schon for blak. A wrethe of gold arm-gret, and huge of wigbte, upon his lieed,' etc.— [ The Knightes Tale, line 1285, ed. Morris.] Staunton : If the original lection be genuine, which we doubt, ' gaunt ' must be understood to mean fierce^ eager. Walker ( Crit, iii, 297) adopts Mason's * termaganty of course,' and adds, * Terma- gmmi nuij have been written iearmagani^ as cieargie, and some other old forms, among the rest tearme. . . . But I rather think it was written tarmagaunt, Hamlet of 1603, — ^I would have such a fellow whipt, for o'redoing tarmagant." . . . The old qwllings, ** Anne-gaunt " and tarmagaunt render the mistake easily intelligible.' Lxttsom (Walker's editor) in a footnote to the foregoing, ' confesses that he cannot agree with Walker in his approbation of Mason,' and justly says that, ' Termagant in the sense of violent is essentially a comic word.' Dyce rehearses various emendations, without expressing any opinion other than that Mason's termagant is 'very bad.' Krightley [^Exp, 312) : The best correction seems to be that of Boaden and myself, arrogant; we might also read ardent; or angry, I had, like M. Mason, conjectured termagant; but that term is never applied to an animal. John Hunter: We think * arm-gatmt ' refers to the angular parts of the horse's armour, as resembling the projecting bones of a lean or gaunt animal. Schmidt {Lex,) : There is in old English another ' gaunt,' the German ganz, signifying whole^ healthful^ lusty ^ and ' arm-gaunt ' may mean completely armed, harnessed, or rather : lusty in arms, full of life and spirits even under the weight of arms. R. M. Spence (N, &* Qu. 1878, V, X, 244) ! Of the one adjective I make two, * arm'd gaunt' I regard it as an error not of sight but of hearing. Let any one pronounce the two words, and, unless his utterance be more than ordinarily distinct, ten to one his arm* d gaunt will reach the car of his auditor as arm-gaunt. In this case the printer has only too faithfully fol- kmed the amanuensis. J. D. (iV. 6r* Qu, 1879, V, xii, 163) on the authority of Tke Gentleman's Dictionary, 1705, accepts arm as denoting in Shakespeare's time, • the fore- thigh, or upper part of the fore-leg of a horse. ** Arm-gaunt " means, there- fore,' he says, 'slender in the fore-thigh, or fore-leg, and is equivalent to high-bred,* B. Nicholson (N, <Sr* Qu. 1892, VIII, i, 182) suggests that ^tf«/»/ might have been the perfect participle gauntedy where the final -ed had been absorbed in the final / of gaunt, and inasmuch as this, * as shown by gauntlet, is derived from the French gant, "arm-gaunt" is armour-gloved. A poetic metaphor, and one which beautifully expresses how the armourer so metal-gloved his steed as not to impede any of his natural actions.' Rolfe : I have no doubt that it is a misprint The poet's word was not improbably rampaunt, though the article * an ' favours arrogant. MURRAY (N, E, D, s, V, Arm. sb *, III) : Meaning not certainly known. ? with gaunt limbs.
78 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act i, sc. t.
Who neigh'd fo hye, that what I would haue fpoke, 57
Was beaftly dumbe by him.
CUo. What was he fad, or merry ?
Alex. Like to the time oWyeare, between y extremes 60
57. kye\ high F^F^. sad,,, between ,.,iad„,du^cnHm ... note
58. beaftly\ beastlike Han. Om. Words. him, Han.
dumbe'\ F,. dumb F,F^, Rowe, 59. Whai^ Ff. What! Coll Wh.
Pope, Johns. Var. '73, Sing, drowned What^ Rowe ct cet
Bailey, dumb'd Theob. et cet /ad,'\ F,. fad F^F^.
59-62. What,,, note him.'] Lines end, 60. dth*] oth* Ff.
[If < Arme-gaunt ' be not a misprint, it is so near it that it might as well be one oat- right, and live up to its character. Some of the best editors and critics have so deemed it In view of the formidable, not to say appalling combination of equine qualities and armourer's art which has been detected in this adjective, Anthony would have been more than mortal had he not approached his steed with extreme caution, and mounted it * soberly.' — Ed.]
58. Was beastly dumbe by him] Theobald : Alexas means, the horse made such a neighing, that if he had spoke he could not have been heard. I suspect the poet wrote, « Was beastly dumb'd by him,' i. e, put to silence. Thus in Perieles, V, Prologue 5, * Deep clerks she dumbs.' Warburton : Shakespeare wrote : * Who neigh'd so Iinui, that what I would have spoke Was beastly done by him,' t. e. the sense of what I would have spoke the horse declared, tho' in inarticulate sounds. [No space on any page can be so precious that room should not be found on it for this Warburtonian gem.] Coluer {Emend, p. 488) : The MS gives, * Was boast- fully dumb'd by him.' One slight objection to this change is that boastfully must be read as a disyllable, and such is the case with various words. . . . Boastfully might be, and probably was, mbprinted * beastly.* Dyce (Notes ^ p. 152) : But why did the MS alter < beastly ' to boastfully (which I should have thought nobody could * read as a disyllabic,' had not Mr Collier declared that it ' must be read as such ' ) ? Merely because he happened not to perceive the meaning which Shakespeare evidently intended * beastly ' to convey, viz. in the manner of a becut, — i. e. by inarticulate sounds which rendered vain all attempts at speaking on the part of Alexas. Singer : < Dumbe' was altered by Theobald without necessity. The arrogant steed, says Alexas, would let no sound be heard but his own, he neighed so loud that what I would have spoke was made unintelligible, no better than the sound of a dumb animal. Walker (Crit, ii, 61) gives the present * dumbe* as the first example under his • Article, Ixii,' which treats of * final d and final e confounded.* He con- cludes, of course, that the true word is dumb'd. This confusion he attributes mainly (and his editor, Lettsom, agrees with him) to some peculiarity in the old method of writing the final e or d. This may be so, but in a number of cases, this cbnfusion is due, I think, either to the imperfect pronunciation of the reader who read aloud the copy to the compositor, or else to the failure of the compositor to catch the reader's full pronunciation. See * vouchsafe,' I, iv, 10 ; * Tawny fine,' II, v, 16, and * Or looke on thine,' V, i, 49. — Ed.
59. What was he sad, or merry ?] Neither the punctuation of the Folio nor that of Rowe, which has been almost uniformly followed, seems to me quite correct. I should prefer, as more natural, * What was he, sad or merry ? ' — Ed.
ACT I, sc. v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 79
CX hot and cold^ he was nor fad nor merrie. 61
Cleo. Oh well diuided difpofition: Note him^ Note him good Charmiauj 'tis the man ; but note him. He was not fad; for he would fhine on thofe That make their lookes by his. He was not merrie, 6$
Which feemM to tell them, his remembrance lay In Egypt with his ioy, but betweene both. Oh heauenly mingle ! Bee'ft thou fad, or merrie, The violence of either thee becomes. So do's it no mans elfe. Met'ft thou my Ports ? 70
Alex. I Madam, twenty feuerall Meflengers. Why do you fend fo thicke?
Qeo. Who's borne that day, when I forget to fend to AnthonUy fhall dye a Begger. Inke and paper Char- mian. Welcome my good Alexas, Did I Charmiany e- 75
uer loue Ca/ar fo ?
Char. Oh that braue Ccefar !
Cleo. Be choak'd with fuch another Emphafis, Say the braue Anthony.
Char. The valiant Ccefar. 80
Qeo. By I/&, I will giue thee bloody teeth, If thou with CcBfar Parago nagaine : 82
61. nor fad^ not fad F^F^, Rowe, 72-76. Why..,for\ F(. Lines end, Pope, Han. day, ... Anthonie, ... Charmtan. ... Cbar-
62. Note Aim,"] Om. Pope, +. mian, .../<?/ Rowe et seq.
63. Chaimian] Charmain F^. 82. Parago nagaine\ F,. 7a mans'] man Ff et seq.
68b mingle] For many other words sunilarly used as nouns, see Abbott, {451.
68. Bee'st thou] Abbott ({ 298) : Be, Beest, etc. were used in Anglo-Saxon generally in a fntore sense. Hence, since the future and subjunctive are closely connected in meaning, be assumed an exclusively subjunctiye use ; and this was so common, that we not only find < if it ^^ ' (which might represent the proper inflected iabjuDCtiye of ^^), but also ' if thou beest^ where the indicative is used subjunctively.
70. 80 do's it no mans else] That is, ' So does it as no man else.' For other examples of the omission of as, see Abbott, § 281. ' Mans ' is here one of the very many instances gathered by Walker ( Crit, i, 240) of *■ the final s interpolated and omitted in the First Folio,' see I, iv, 11.
73, 74. Who's borne that day, . . . shall dye a Begger] There is no hidden meaning here, I think ; it is simply that the day shall be ill-omened, or as Constance says in King John, * This day all things begun, come to ill end.' — Ed.
82. Parago nagaine :] Thiselton (p. 10) : The colon after ' againe ' was prob- ably deliberately placed there to indicate by a pause a special emphasis on the suc- ceeding * My man of men.'
8o THE TRACE DIE OF [act i. sc. v.
My man of men. 83
Char. By your moft gracious pardon, I fmg but after you. 85
Cleo. My Sallad dayes, When I was greene in iudgement, cold in blood, To fay, as I faide then. But come, away. Get me Inke and Paper,
he fhall haue eueiy day a feuerall greeting, or He vnpeo- 90
pie Egypt. Exeunt
87-88. iudgement, . . Moifd, . . .M«i.] Ff, 89-91 . Get. ^.Egypt ] Ff, Rowe, Pbpc,
Rowe. judgement^, „blaod ! ,,Jhtn. Pope. Theob. Warb. Lines end,/a/^/...^^rf-
judgement^ ... blood! ... thtn^ — Theob. ing.,. Egypt Johns. Var. '21, Coll. Sing.
judgement. ... blood! ... then^ — Warb. Dyce, Wh. Glo. Cam. Hal. day... Egypt
Johns. Var. '73. judgemerU^ ...blood;... Han. et cet.
then !Csi^. Hunter, Sta. judgementy — 90. a feuerall greeting'] /everall greet-
...blood, ...then ! yf\i. \. judgement!... ing YJPy several greetings F^, Rowe,
blood, ...then! Ktly. judgement :... blood. Pope, Theob. Waib. ...then I Var. '78 et cet
86-88. My Sallad dayes, When I was greene in iudgement, cold in blood* To say, as I saide then.] Theobald questions the propriety of ' sallad,' and calcu- lates the age of Cleopatra, when she was in love with Caesar, to be twenty years. He then goes on to say that, ' If an ^Egyptian could at those years have reason to complain of coldness of blood, she must have a very particular constitution.' But he concludes by upholding Shakespeare, who found his authority in Plutarch's report that Cleopatra was < but a young thing ' when she knew Caesar and Pompey, and that she fell in love with Anthony in the prime of her beauty. (See Appendix, Plutarch. ) War- burton inflicts what it is difficult to regard as other than an injury to the text, by giving what he calls, ' Shakespear's best justification ' in ' restoring his own sense, which is done merely by a different pointing : — « My sallad days : When I was green in judgment Cold in blood I To say as I said then." Cold in blood, is an upbraid- ing expostulation to her maid. Those, says she, were my sallad days, when I was green in judgment; but your blood is as cold as my judgment, if you have the same opinion of things now as I had then.^ This punctuation, and interpretation have been substantially followed down to this very hour. Boswell remarks that * cold and green seem to be suggested by the metaphor sallad days.' Wherein he is right ; what he should have added is that both apply, not to Charmian, but to Cleopatra. What to her was the temperature of Charmian's blood ? The coldness had been her own, and she was finding excuses for having * ever loved Caesar so.' If those were her sallad days they were as inevitably both g^reen and cold. The abruptness of the phrase, * To say, as I said then ! ' intensifies its scorn. It is parallel to her reply in a previous scene, * Thou teachest like a fool ! The way to lose him I ' and in a succeeding scene, * so tart a favour To trumpet such good tidings.' — II, v, 48 ; and in Enobar- bus's speech, * That he should dreame ... the full Caesar will answer his emptinesse.' — Ill, xiii, 39. Hanmer*s punctuation seems to me exactly right : * My sallad days! When I was green in judgment, cold in blood ! To say, as I said then ! * — Ed.
90, 91. He vnpeople Egypt] Johnson : By sending out messengers.
ACT II. sc. i.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 8 1
\A6lus Secunda. Scene /.]
Enter Pompeyj Menecrates, and Menus ^ in
warlike manner. Pom. If the great Gods be iuft, they fhall aflift 3
Act II. Scene i. Rowe. The scene In Sicily. Rowe. Messina. A Room
omitted, Gar. Kemble. in Pompey's Hoose. Cap.
I, 2. in warlike manner.] Om. Rowe.
I. Menecrates, and Menas] Johnson : The persons are so named in the first edition. I know not why Menecrates appears ; Menas can do all without him. [In the following note, CapeH endeavours to prove that a judicious discrimination will distinguish Menas from Menecrates; that ^ Mene^ in line 5, should be Menas; and that, furthermore, Warburton's emendation, delays for 'decayes' is just.] Capell (i, 31 ) : All the speeches in this scene, except one by Varrius, are given by the Folios to Pompey and Menecrates only ; this was such a palpable error with respect to one of them [line 49] that it stands corrected in all the modems, and of that speech Menas is made the S|>eaker, and so he should be of [that in line 5]. A little reflec- tion upon the characters of the parties in question, will set the whole of this scene in the clearest light; and shew, withal, the propriety of both these corrections [namely, Menas for Mene, in line 5, and Warburton's delays'] : The character of Pompey is mark'd by — a high sense of honour ; and by a natural honesty, join'd with irresolution and a backwardness to engage in great actions : that of Menas has nothing particular, but that he is Pompey's fast friend : Menecrates is also his friend ; but not in favour, like Menas, from being discontented, and disapproving his patron's conduct : Thus stated, the characters themselves will point out who the speeches belong to : he who speaks in the second agrees with Pompey, in thinking — that the gods would befriend them at last ; but, delivering his opinion in the form of a maxim, 'what' they do delay, they not deny,' the other takes occasion from one of those words to tell him — that there was a delay which he should make his chief petition to heaven, meaning — a delay of the preparations against him : this is taken up by Menecrates, whose dissent is worded also in maxims, a respectful way of expressing dissent; intimating by them, — that his opinion was rather, that Pompey himself should prepare, and attack the triumvirs before their whole strength was gathered together : and this speech of Menecrates is a most unanswerable argument in favour of the latter amendment [delays'], and no small one in that of the first [Menas for Men^.] ; for, unless delays be admitted, no reason can be assigned for making the reflections contain' d in it ; and, if he be the maker of them, he could not be so of that in the other speech, their tendencies being so contrary. Malone : I have given the first two speeches to Menecrates, and the rest to Menas. It is a matter of little consequence. [For Johnson's suggestion that this Scene might be included in the First Act, see the beginning of the next Scene.]
3. they shall assist] Staunton : The precision now observable in the employ- ment of shall and 'unll in the best writers was not regarded in Shakespeare's day. He conomonly follows the old custom of using the former for the latter to denote futur- 6
82 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sa L
The deeds of iufteft men.
Mene. Know worthy Pampey^ that what they do de- 5
lay, they not deny.
Pont. Whiles we are Tutors to their Throne, decayes the thing we fue for.
Mene. We ignorant of our felues, Begge often our owne harmes, which the wife Powres 10
Deny vs for our good : fo finde we profit By loofing of our Prayers. 12
5. Mene.] Menas. Cap. conj. 7, 8. decayes,,, for] One line, Rowe.
5, 6. that,,, deny] One line, Rowe et 7. decayes] delays Warb. Cap.
seq. 8. the] The Pope et seq.
5. what] which Tf, Rowe. 9. IVe] IVe, Rowe.
7. Whiles] While ¥^^f Rowe, + . 12. loofing] lofing¥^^,
ity, whether in the second and third persons or in the first [There is more than sim- ple futurity in the present ' shall ; ' there is a futurity so inevitable that it is equivalent to must, Abbott ({ 315) has gathered several similar uses oi shall, — Ed.]
7. decayes] Warburton ; Thisnonsenseshouldreadthus: </ir/nyx. Menecrates had said, ' The Gods do not deny that which they delay.' Theother turns his words to a different meaning, and replies, ' Delay is the very thing we beg of them,' t. e. the delay of our enemies in making preparations against us ; which he explains afier- wards, by saying Mark Antony was tied up by lust in Egypt ; Caesar by avarice at Rome ; and Lepidus employed in keeping well with both. [This emendation of Warburton would have been relegated to the Text, Notes, had it not beguiled as sensible an editor as Capell.] Heath : (p. 453) : This emendation of Mr War- burton's is certainly nonsense, whatever becomes of the common text which he is pleased to call so. Who ever prayed for success in any enterprize, and at the same time prayed that that success might be delayed as long as he should pray for it? Besides the reply of Menecrates plainly implies that delay was not the thing sued for ; but something else which was for the present denied ; which could not be delay, since Pompey was already in possession of that, but must be the attainment of the empire. The ancient reading is undoubtedly the true one. The sense is, While we are wearying the Gods with prayers, the very thing we are praying for, that is the empire, is falling into decay and ruin by the ill conduct of my comf>etitors, by the luxurious indolence of Antony, the avaricious extortions of Caesar, and by the msincerity and private views of all the three triumvirs. Johnson : The meaning is, ' While we are praying, the thing for which we pray is losing its value, '
9-12. We ignorant of our selues, . • . By loosing of our Prayers] Theobald lefers to the parallelism between these lines and the following from Juvenal's Tenth Satire, * Quid enim ratione timemus, Aut cupimus ? quid tam dextro pede concipb, nt te Conatds non poeniteat, votique peracli ? Evert^re domos tolas, optantibus ipsis, Dl faciles. [lines 4-8]. ... Si consilium vis, Permittes ipsis expendere numinibus, quid Conveniat nobis, rebusque sit utile nostris. Nam, pro jucundis, aptissima quseque dabunt Dl. Carior est illis homo, quam sibi.' [Lines 346-350.] Walker ( Crit, i, 153) also calls attention to these lines of Juvenal ; and J. Churton Coluns {Studies^
ACT 11, sc i.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 83
Pom. I (hall do well .* 13
The people loue me, and the Sea is mine ;
My powers are Creffent, and my Auguring hope 15
Sayes it will come to'thYuU. Marke Anthony In Egypt fits at dinner^ and will make No warres without doores. CcBfar gets money where He loofes hearts : Lepidus flatters both^
Of both is flatter'd : but he neither loues^ 20
Nor either cares for him.
Mene. Ca/ar and Lepidus are in the field, A mighty ftrength they carry.
Pom, Where haue you this ? 'Tis falfe.
Mene, From St/uius, Sir. 25
Pom.Hc dreames : I know they are in Rome together
15. /oners art"] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Coll. 22, 23. are,„carry] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Dyce, Wh. Glo. Cam. Su. Ktly. poufr^s Theob. Warb. Johns. Var. Mai. Sta. 4 Theob. et ceC. Separate line, Han. et cet
CreffnWl Crefcent F,F^. 25. Siluius] SUvia F^.
16. ii'\ they Gould. 26, 27. ffe,„Looking'\ Separate line, /a*M'] to tk? FjF^. to the Coll. Han.
19. ioo/es] lo/es F^. 26. / hnoui] Om. Han.
etc., p. 29) says that we cannot * attribute to mere coincidence the terse translation * pTen of the foregoing lines in the present passage. * Again * observes Collins, p. 28, ' Jnyenal was not translated into English until after Shakespeare's death, but that be had read him seems certain.'
12. By loosing of our Prayers] See Abbott ({ 178) for other examples of the nie of 0/ after verbal nouns, and especially where there is a preposition before the verbal noan rendering the substantive use of the latter evident.
15, 16. My powers are Cressent, and my Auguring hope Sayes it wilt eome to'th'fuU] Theobald : What does the relative * it ' refer to ? It cannot in sense relate to * hope *, nor in concord to * powers.' It is evident beyond a doubt, that the poef s allusion is to the moon ; and that Pompey would say, He is yet but a half- moon, or crescent; but his hopes tell him, that crescent will come to 2. full orb. Dyce : Theobald's change though adopted by all his successors, except Mr Collier, appears to me a very hasty alteration :— our old writers frequently make * it ' refer to a pre- ceding plural substantive. [It is to be regretted that Dyce did not give some of these instances. It is probable that in all of them there would have been found some nonn, in the singular, interposed between the plural antecedent and its singular rdative^ whereby the relative becomes singular by attraction. In the present case, *it' refers to * powers,' but 'crescent,' although an adjective, is, in the imagination of the speaker, a singular and, consequently, by its proximity, throws the relative ' it' mto the singular also. — Ed.]
20. he neither loues] That is, neither Caesar nor Anthony.
84 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc. i.
Looking for Anthony : but all the charmes of Loue, 2y
Salt Cleopatra foften thy wand lip^
27. the\ Om. Steev. Varr. Glo. Cam. Coll. iii. 'wa$Uon Ktly. warned
28. Cleopatra] CUopaira, Rowe. Steev. et ceL
wand^ Ff, Rowe, Coll. i. wan 28. /i>,] Ff, Rowe, P<^. Up; ColL
Pope, + , Cap. Varr. Mai. Ran. waned lip / Theob. et cet.
28. Salt] That is, most wanton.
28. soften thy wand lip] Theobald (Nichols, ii, 501) * suspects' that 'wand/ or as he has it in his text, after Pope, wan, should be warm, but as he made 00 later allusion to this conjecture, it is to be inferred that he withdrew it. Johnson makes the same conjecture, as well as * perhaps, /md.' Steevens : ' Wand/ if it stand, is either a corruption of wan, the adjective, or a contraction of wanned^ or made wan, a participle. So, in Hamlet : ' That, from her working, all his visage wan'd* Again, in Beau, and Fl. Queen of Corinth: 'Now you look wan and pale ; lips^ ghosts you are.' [IV, i.] Or perhaps waned lip, r. e. decreased, like the moon, in its beauty. Yet this expression of Pompey's, perhaps, after all, implies a wish only, that every charm of love may confer additional softness on the lips of Cleopatra : t . e. that her beauty may improve to the ruin of her lover ; or, as Ritson expresses the same idea, that * her lip, which was become pale and dty with age, may recover the colour and softness of her sallad days.' The epithet wan might indeed have been added, only to show the speaker* s private contempt of it. Percy : Shakspeare's orthography often adds a </ at the end of a word. Thus, * vile ' is (in the old editions) everywhere spelt vild, * Laund ' is given instead oi laton: why not therefore wand for wan here ? If this however should not be accepted, suppose we read with the addition only of an apostrophe, wan'd; i. e, waned, declined, gone off from its perfection ; comparing Cleopatra's beauty to the moon past the full. Coluer (ed. i) : It may be doubted whether ' wand ' and ' lip ' ought not to be united by a hyphen ; ' wand ' probably has reference to Cleopatra's power of enchantment, — ^that her lip is as potent as a magician's wand ; and this construction seems warranted by what immediately follows: 'Let witchcraft join with beauty.' 'Wand' is the •witchcraft' and Mip' the 'beauty.* Dyce {Remarks, p. 245) : What Mr Collier says here about Cleopatra's ' wand-lip,' i. e. lip as potent as a magician's wand, cannot be allowed the merit of originality ; at least, it had been previously said in that mass of folly, ignorance, and conceit, Jackson's Shakespeare's Genitis Justified ; and one can hardly suppose that such a wild fancy would spring up spontaneously in the brains of two commentators. Not even in L3rcophron, the most enigmatical of poets, is there any expression half so far-fetched or so strangely compounded as wand-lip ! Whether the word be written wand or wan^d^ it is evidently the past participle of the verb wane ; Cleopatra herself has previously touched on the decrease of her beauty: * with Phoebus' amorous pinches black And wrinkled deep in time.* Coluer, in his Second Edition makes no allusion to his extravagant suggestion of a wizard's wand, — it cannot be enlivening to be coupled with Zachary Jackson, — ^but restricts himself to recording that his MS has warm, and the safe remark that * ** wan'd " ought prob- ably to be taken as waned, i. e. a lip that is on the wane.' Keightley's text reads wanton * in the sense of soft, yielding, like " the wanton rushes," — / //en. /V: III, i,' and he 'strongly suspects \^Exp. p- 313] that the poet's word may have been tann^d^ spelt of course land. She is more than once called gypsy; she has "a tawny fronL" '
ACT u, sc. L] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA 8$
Let Witchcraft loyne with Beauty, Luft with both,
Tye vp the Libertine in a field of Feafts, 30
29. IViichcraft'^ wUkcraft F^. 29. both,'\ Ff, Rowc, Pope. da/A.
BfMay,]Bfa9ay.- F^F^,Kowt,-\-. Johns. datA.Coll. ^£rf>i / Theob. ct cet.
[Keigfatlqr's /amm*d can be upheld only at the expense of physiology ; there are, I believe, no pigmentary cells in the lips which can be affected by the sun's rays. I cannot accept Dyce's asseition that * wand ' is ' evidently the past participle of the verb wmu* I see no reason why it should not be the same *wand* which the Quartos give us in Hamlet^ * all his visage wand' (II, ii, 527) where almost every modem editor to the complete satisfaction of himself and of his readers prints wann'd that is, muuU wan. And, moreover, this interpreUtion is not lacking in fitness. Cleopatra's lips, at the age of thirty-eight, as has been suggested, could hardly be as <ripe in show' as the lips of Helena, 'those kissing cherries' as Demetrius calls them; and it is to be remembered that it is not an admirer of Cleopatra that terms her lips wan. To Anthony, one kiss from them, wan'd or not, ' repaid all that he had lost'— Ed.]
jo. Tye vp the Libertine in m field of Feasts] Collier (ed. ii) : The MS thus alters this line :— ' Lay up the libertine in a flood of feasts ; ' but we do not feel warranted in deserting the old editions, although it is true that in Othello^ I, i, we have seen * Laying ' misprinted Jyingy as here Lay may have been misprinted ' Tie.' As to * field of feasts ' we hardly know what is to be understood by the expression, but * flood qIL feasts ' seems almost equally objectionable, though intelligible ; however, if any part of this play, as published, were derived from shorthand notes, ' field ' and flood would be ^>elt with the same letters, and hence possibly the confusion. W. W[iLLiAiis] (Parthenon f 17 May, 1862) : Assuredly, Shakespeare has no meta- phor similar [to * field of feasts '] throughout his works. ' Field ' is defined by John- son as being strictly * ground not inclosed, the open country ; ' and to < tie/ he tells OS, is ' to constrain or confine, up being little more than an emphatical addition.' Pompey, wishing to fasten Antony to a particular spot, would scarcely desire the security of an open ^pace. But there is a word, for which, by a very probable mis- reading, * field ' may have been substituted. Fold^ says Johnson, is an * enclosure of any kind,' and a fold would therefore exactly suit Pompey *s purpose. The most rigid foliantist cannot object to weigh for a moment whether the true meaning may not be, — < Tie up the libertine in a fold of feasts.' We have then a figure of which Shakespeare is particularly fond. ... A reference to a Concordance will save me any parade of confirmatory passages. [The phrase is certainly obscure, and yet I venture to think that the Folio needs no alteration. Pompey' s train of thought is, let me imagine, somewhat as follows : At all hazards, Anthony must be kept in Egypt, a prisoner to his passions ; within this boundary the libertine roust be tied up. But the very idea of a libertine involves a certain freedom of motion ; a libertine cannot be tied up to a single feast, else he would cease to be a libertine in feasts ; there must be many feasts ; in using the word * libertine ' there may have then crept into Shake- speare's mind that charming simile which elsewhere he twice uses, whereby the air becomes a ' chartered libertine,' blowing wheresoever it pleases, over hill and dale, and a single feast hereby expands, in imagination, into a whole field of feasts. Some limitations there must be ; what better than a field of vague extent, wherein a libertine could be confined and indulge in endless feasting, day and night
86 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc. L
Keepe his Braine fuming. Epicurean Cookes^ 31
Sharpen with cloyleffe fawce his Appetite,
That fleepe and feeding may prorogue his Honour,
Euen till a Lethied dulneffe
Enter Varrius. 35
How now Varrius ?
Var. This is moft certaine, that I fhall deliuer : Marke Anthony is euery houre in Rome Expe£led. Since he went from Egypt, 'tis 39
33. Honour] hour Mai. conj. Varr. Knt, Coll. Sing. Wh. duhu/s—
34. tiU] *tUi Rowe. + . to Han. F^F^, Rowe ct cct
Lethied] Leth^d Pope ct seq. 35. Enter...] After line y^^ Cap. After
dulneffe ] F,. dulness ! Han. Une 36, Var. '78.
Dyce, Glo. Cam. dulness, Mai. Steev.
Thus, for the preservation of the text of the Folio, feci quod potui^ faciant meUora poientei, — Ed.]
30. Libertine] There is one Article in Walker's Versification (XL, p. 201 ) which, for the sake of that fine scholar's reputation, even his admirers would, I think, like to see expunged. Its title is : * The t in -ity is almost uniformly dropt in pronunciation,' and, in proof, he quotes upwards of twenty instances where he assumes that this barbarous pronunciation must be adopted. Apparently, warming with his subject, he goes from bad to worse until, toward the close, he recommends such words as hostiPiy, virgin* ty^ fmrUy and ' suspects that the Elizabethan poets extended this rule to aU substantives ending in -ty^ as honesty^ liberty^ p<werty^ etc. Hence it is that majesty is almost uniformly a disyllable in Shakespeare.* His last quotation is this present line, wherein he asserts that ' libertine ' is ' used in the same way,* and, therefore, to be pronounced lib"* tine, — Ed.
31. Epicurean] In Greek names, Shakespeare usually followed, not the Latin, but the Greek accent, which was the method of Reuchlin, the accepted authority of his day ; thus, 'Ewucoipeioc. Thus, too, Bapappac in The Mer. of Ven. Walker overlooked this fact, which would have spared him trouble in compiling his Article XLII, Vers. p. 211. 'Euphrates' in I, ii, 113, is an exception. — Ed.
33. feeding may prorogue his Honour] Steevens : This undoubtedly means
* to delay his sense of honour from exerting itself till he become habitually sluggish.' Dbighton : To * prorogue,* from Lat. pro^ publicly, and rogare^ to ask (the tech- nical term for proposing a measure to a legislative body), properly means to propose a further extension of office, thence to carry forward from one meeting to another, and so to defer. Staunton : Shakespeare certainly uses * prorogue ' here, as he employs it in Pericles^ V, i, 24, * nor taken sustenance But to prorogue his grief,' — ^in the sense of deaden or benumb.
34. Lethied dulnesse] The Cam. Edd. record an Anonymous conjecture of
* Lethe dulness,' which seems probable. It must have been difficult for the ear of the compositor to escape from hearing the d of * dulness * transferred to Lethe. —Ed.
35. Varrius] See Dram. Pers,
f
iUTU. sc. L] AXTHOXY AXD CLEOPA TRA 87
A fpace for faither Trasak. 40
Pamu I ooold huK ghicn kfic matter Abettereare. JUhMj:, I Ad not tbinke This amorous Sorfbczcr voold haoe doon'd his Hdme For fuch a petty Wane : His Sookfierihip
Is twice the odier twaioe : Bat let vs leare 45
The higher om- Opanoo, that oar ftirrii^ Can firom the lap of ¥jgypts Widdow, plucke The neere Luft-wcaiied Amikmy.
Mem. I cannot hope, 49
4a /pa£i\ rma Goaid. 45. immme\ tmmm^s Words.
/artJk^^ fm^Oer Stccr. Vaz. 47- '^'S^Ubw,] Widdmm F,F^.
farthest QxM^A, 4^ mem Lmft-wemried^ F,
41. ieje] Uawe^tyCadA. hai-wemried T^ u. Cap. Var. *78, 'S5,
42. MiY]MrF,?. MaL CoU. Wh. m^ir•imsi' 45. «flMrMKf] mmerma IVipc;^. TheobL ct ceL
5«jr;^&sarr] Sv/Ufer F^
39, 40. *tis A space for gaitbef Tranailr] Stksvkns : Thai is, since be quitted Egypt, a ypaat of time has eiapied in wbidi a longer journey might hare been per- formed than from Egypt to Rooie. Aibott ($ 405) suggests that there is merdy a not unusual ellqxas after ' is; ' in the present case n^juiemi is probably to be supplied after 'space.'
42. lienas] Stceykks: I cannot help supposing, 00 account of the present irregularity of metre, that the name ' Menas ' is an intcqx>lation, and that the passage originally stood : — ' I could hare given Less matter better ear. — I did not think — .*
47* ^STP^ Widdow] Stkkveks: Julius Caesar had married her to young Ptolemy, who was afterwards drowned.
48. The neere Lost-wearied Anthony] Rowk and Popk haying followed the Third and Fourth FoKas^ Theobald (Sh, Restored^ p. 1S4) proved that the Fir^ Folio is right by printing < neer lust- wearied,' and restored sense to the passage, which means, he says, ' if Antony, though nerer tired of luxury, yet moved from that charm upon Pompey's stirring, it was reason for Poippey to pride himself upon being of such consequence.*
49. I cannot hope, etc] Stekvens : Mr Tyrwhitt observes, that to « hope.' on this occasion, means to expect. So, in The Reu^s Taie^ v. 4027 : « Our mancyple, as I hope^ he wil be deed.' — Boswell : Yet from the following passage in Puttenham, it would seem to have been considered as a blundering expression in the days of Queen Elizabeth : • Such manner of vncouth speech did the Tanner of Tamworth vse to king Edward the fourth, which Tanner hauing a great while mistaken him, and vsed ▼ery brood talke with him, at length perceiuing by his traine that it was the king, was afraide he should be punished for it, said thus with a certaine rude repentance : *< I hope I shall be hanged to-morrow ! " For [I feare me] I shall be hanged, whereat the king laughed a good, not only to see the Tanners vaine feare, but also to hcare his ill shapen terme.'[ — Arber's Reprint^ p. 263.] — Daniel (p. 80) : It was not
88 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act ii, sc i.
Cafar and Anthony ftiall well greet together ; 50
His Wife that's dead^ did trefpafles to Cafary His Brother wanM vpon him, although I thinke Not mouM by Anthony.
Pont. I know not MenaSj How leffer Enmities may g^ue way to greater, 55
Were't not that we (land vp againft them all : Twer pregnant they fhould fquare between themfelues, 57
51. Mtf/'j] who's Pope, + , Var. '73. F^. greater. „mU^ Rowe ct scq.
52. waH'(^]warr'{t Ffetseq. 57. * Twer'\ F,.
55» 5^- g^^<^^^ ...ail .'"l greater. ...all: themfelues,'] themselves; Rowe.
Menas' cue to hope that they would ; his hope, if he was true to Fbmpey, must have been the other way ; read, therefore, — I cannot held.
50. Caesar and Anthony shall well g^reet tog^ether] If we accept ' greet ' in its prominent sense of to salute, it becomes difficult to comprehend how two men can ' greet together,' It would be still more difficult, I think, to find, throughout English literature, a second example of the phrase. The N. E, D. knows none such, — as far as I can discover. May it not be, however, that * greet ' is an error of the compositor, who, deceived either by his mental ear or the voice of his reader, has added to the verb gree the / of the next word, < together * ? and that the true reading is * Caesar and Anthony shall well gree together * ? — Schmidt {^Lex. ) gives many instances^ and the N. E. D. still more, of the use of gree in the sense of to agree, to be in accord^ etc The past participle, ' greed * occurs in II, vi, 47, * this greed vpon. To part with vnhackt edges,' etc. — Ed.
52. wan'd vpon him] See * He stayes vpon your will,* I, ii, 131.
54. I know not Menas, etc.] Thiselton (p. 11): Modem editors have taken great liberties with the Folio punctuation of this speech, in total disregard of the point on which Pompey is enlarging, viz., that Anthony's accession to the side of Caesar and Lepidus will, if it prove to be a fact, indicate the strength of Pompey* s menace. As usually punctuated the speech is self-contradictory, for Pompey is thereby made to say first that he knows not how it is, then to explain how it is, and finally to reassert that he knows not how it is. On the other hand, according to the Folio punctuation, Pompey states the only possible ground that occurs to him for Anthony's reported movements; he would rather expect Anthony to remain on quarrelsome terms with his colleagues of the Triumvirate ; he therefore awaiu confirmation of the report, holding it, if true, as a proof of his power and, at the same time, of the necessity of using that power to the uttermost against such a combination.
57. pregnant] Narks {^Gloss. s. v.) discusses the various meanings of this word, and, under the fourth head, says that it signifies * full of force or conviction, or full of proof in itself.' This definition, Dyce {Gloss.) quotes as the interpretation of the word in the present passage. Nares, in conclusion, says that * this word was used with great laxity, and sometimes abused, as fashionable terms are ; but may be gener- ally referred to the ruling sense of being full, or productive of something.'
57. they should square] That is, quarrel. Cotgrave has : * Se quarrer. To strout, or square it, looke big on't, carrie his armes a kemboll braggadochio-like.'
ACT II, sc, U.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA 89
For they haue entertained caufe enough 58
To draw their fwords : but how the feare of vs
May Ciment their diuifions, and binde vp 60
The petty difference, we yet not know :
Bee't as our Gods will haue't ; it onely (lands
Our liues vpon,to vfe our ftrongeft hands
Come Menas. Exeunt. 64
[Scene //.]
Enter Enobarbus and Lepidus.
Lep. Good Enobarbus J 'tis a worthy deed, And (hall become you well, to intreat your Captaine To foft and gentle fpeech.
Enob. I (hall intreat him 5
To anfwer like himfelfe : if Ccefar moue him, Let Anthony looke ouer Ccefars head, And fpeake as lowd as Mars. By lupiter. Were I the wearer of Anthonic^s Beard, 9
60. Cim£nt'\ Cement Y^^, House. Cap. Gaudy, superfluously gilded.
62. Be^t ... haue'i'^ Ff, Rowc,+, Kemble.
Dyce, Glo. Sta. Be^t,..have it\9X,^T^, ^. to in/rea/1 t*infrea/ Tope, -\-,I>yce
Coll. i. Be it,.,havit Sing. Coll. ii, Wh. ii, iii.
Ktly. Be it. ..have it Cap. et cet 6. moue'\ maz/d Ran.
onely] only F^. 9. Anthonio's] Ff. Antonio's Rowe,
[Scene II. Rowe et seq. +, Cap. Ktly. Antonius' Var. '73 ct
[Rome. Rowe. A Room in Lepidus' cet.
See, if need be, ' But they do square, that all their Elues for feare,' etc. — Mid N, Dream, II, i, 29, of this edition.
62, 63. it onely stands Our liues vpon] Staunton : Our existence solely depends, etc., or it is incumbent on us for our lives' sake, etc. [For other examples of this idiom, see Abbott, § 204.]
64. Exeunt] Vischer (p. 91) : This scene could have been dispensed with. [It is omitted in the version which Capell made for Garrick. — Ed.]
Scene II.] Johnson : I think the First Act may be commodiously continued to this place, and the Second Act opened with the interview of the chief persons, and a change of the state of action. Yet it must be confessed, that it is of small importance, where these unconnected and desultory scenes are interrupted.
9. Were I the wearer, etc.] Capell (i, 32) : 'Alluding,* says [Warburton], 'to the phrase — I will beard him.' But the speaker had no such thing in his head ; hot either meant as he spake, or — that he would put on his gruffest look. There is something uncommonly noble in the management of this interview, and the dignity of these great personages is wonderfully sustain'd ; their entry without accosting each other, the conversation apart that each has with his friends, are circumstances finely
90
THE TRACED IE OF
[act II, sc. iL
I would not fhaue't to day.
Lep. ^Tis not a time for priuate flomacking.
Eno. Euery time ferues for the matter that is then borne in't.
Lep. But fmall to greater matters muft giue way.
Eno, Not if the fmall come firft.
Lep. Your fpeech is pafTion : but pray you ftirre No Embers vp. Heere comes the Noble Anthony.
Enter Anthony and Venliditis,
Eno. And yonder Ccefar.
Enter Ca/ary Mecenas^ and Agrippa.
Ant. If we compofe well heere, to Parthia : Hearke Ventidius.
lO
15
20
22
10. Jhau^t'\ shave Var. '03, 13.
11. '7ij.../iOT^] Separate line, Han. Cap. Steev. et seq.
12. Euery time\ Separate line, Pope et seq.
13. bom€\ bom FjF^.
fV/] init\uxT. Mai. Steev. Varr. Knt.
16, 17. Kwr... Anthony.] Three lines, ending pajfions; ... comes ... Anthony, Pope et seq.
20. Mecenas] Ff. Macenas Glo. Cam. Rife, (throughout.) Mecanas Rowe et cet.
21. Parthia .] Parthia, F^F^, Johns. Parthia — Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. Parthia ! Sta.
22. Hearhe\ F,. Harh F^F^, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Warb. Johns. Harh thee Han. Knt, Dyce i, Glo. Sta. Harh ye 'D'^cit ii, iii. Harh you Cap. et cet.
imagin'd. — Johnson: I believe he means, 'I would meet him undressed, without show of respect'
II. priuate stomacldng] Anger, resentment. See III, iv, 14.
16, 17. pray you atirre No Embers vp] Deighton : Do not rake up any old quarrels.
2a Enter Caesar, etc.] Knight {Supp, Notice, p. 356) : The interview between Caesar and Antony is most masterly. The constrained courtesy on each side — the coldness of Caesar — the frank apologies of Antony — the suggestion of Agrippa, so opportune, and yet apparently so unpremeditated — ^the ready assent of Antony — all this — matter for rhetorical flourishes of at least five hundred lines in the hands of an ordinary dramatist — may be read without a start or an elevation of the voice. It is solid business throughout. Antony we nught think was a changed man. Enobarbus, who knows him, is of a different opinion. — Lloyd (p. 338) : The fated superiority of the cool and steadfast gamester for power, over the ardent and dissipated, is set forth with admirable efi*ect in the long scene with the Triumvirs, which never pauses, and flags not in a line, though the subject matter is no whit more vivacious in itsdf than the contents of interchanging protocols.
ai. If we compose well] Steevens : That is, if we come to a lucky composiUon, agreement So afterwards is < composition * used. See II, vi, 74.
22. Hearke] Dyck (ed. ii) has, I think, rightly interpreted this as * Heark ye,' — potsiUy, ndsheard by the compositor. — Ed.
ACT II, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA
91
Ca/ar. I do not know Mecenas^ aske Agrippa.
Lep. Noble Friends : That which combinM vs was mod great, and let not A leaner a6tion rend vs. What's amifle, May it be gently heard. When we debate Our triuiall difference loud, we do commit Murther in healing wounds. Then Noble Partners, The rather for I eameftly befeech, Touch you the fowreft points with fweeteft tearmes. Nor curftneffe grow to'th'matter.
Ant, 'Tis fpoken well : Were we before our Armies, and to fight, I fhould do thus . Flouri/h.
Caf. Welcome to Rome.
AnL Thanke you.
Caj. Sit.
Anty Sit fir.
23
25
30
35
39
23. I.., knew] Separate line. Cap. et seq. (sabs.)
know Mecenas,] Ff. know; Afe- aenaSf Rowe, + . Jhtow, Mecantu; Han. etcet
26. Uafur\ meaner Quincy MS. lesser Gould.
27. heard'\ mc^ d ox ur^ d Govld,
29. Murther'] Murder Johns.
30. rather] rather. Pope.
31. you] thou Han. ii.
FF
32. to'th'] F,. toth*
33. fpoken ivell] well spoken Words.
34. Annies] Armes F,.
35. Flourilh.] Ff, Rowe, + , Glo. Om. Han. et cet
36-40. Welcome,,, Nay] As one line, Steev. Varr. Sing. Welcome, „Sit fir. As one line, Ktly.
37. Thanke] I thank YJi!L^,
39. Sit fir.] Sitf sir! Ran. Steev. Var. Mai. Var.
32. Nor curstnesse grow to'th'matter] Johnson : Let not ill-humour be added to the real subject of our difference.
35. I should do thus] Capell (i, 32) : Meaning, — as Lepidus had entreated; talk the difference over gently, and not make it greater by reproaches and harsh luiguage ; for that is the import of the words which that entreaty is couch' d in. — [Collier's MS interpreted these words differently ; he inserted a stage-direction, * They shake hands ^^ which Collier adopted in his Second and T^ird Editions, fol- lowed by Singer and, in effect, Keightley. The 'Flourish' manifestly indicates tome action ; the trumpets would hardly blare at the mere expression of a sentiment. —Ed.]
38, 39. Cses. Sit. Ant , Sit sir.] Stbevens : Antony appears to be jealous of a circumstance which seemed to indicate a consciousness of superiority in his too successful partner in power ; and accordingly resents the invitation of Caesar to be seated : Caesar answers, * Nay, then ; ' t. e. if you are so ready to resent what I meant as an act of civility, there can be no reason to suppose you have temper enough for the business on which at present we are met The former editors leave a full point
92 THE TRACED IE OF [act n, sc. n.
Caf. Nay then. 40
Ant. I leame^ you take things ill^ which are not fo : Or being, conceme you not.
C(Bf, I mud be laught at, if or for nothing, or a little, I Should (ay my felfe offended, and with you Chiefely i'th'world. More laught at, that I fhould 45
Once name you derogately : when to found your name It not concerned me.
Ant. My being in Egypt Ci?/^r,what was't to you ?
C(Bf. No more then my reciding heere at Rome Might be to you in Egypt : yet if you there 50
Did prafbfe on my State,your being in Egypt
40. then,'\ Fff Rowe, Pope, Dyce, 46. Once ^^/ouHd"] Separate line, Glo. Cam. Sta. (Aen — Theob. et cct. Pope, + .
41. no/"] norY^, 48. m^...Caefar] Separate line. Cap.
42. you] yon F,. et seq.
43. /...^7/] Separate line, Rowe et seq. 49. redding] refidingYl, little, I] little, Ff. 50. yet] Om. Pope, Han.
at the end of this, as well as the preceding speech. — ^Johnson : The following cir- cumstance may serve to strengthen Mr Steevens*8 opinion: When the fictitioiis Sebastian made his appearance in Europe, he came to a conference with the Cond6 de Lemos ; to whom, after the first exchange of civilities, he said, ' Cond6 de Lemos, be covered.' And being asked, by that nobleman, by what pretences he laid claim to the superiority expressed by such permission, he replied, < I do it by right of my birth ; I am Sebastian.' — Malone : I believe, the author meant no more than that Caesar should desire Antony to be seated : ' Sit' To this Antony replies. Be yon, sir, seated first : < Sit, sir.' < Nay, then,' rejoins Csesar, if yon stand on ceremony, to put an end to farther talk on a matter of so little moment, I will take my seat How- ever, I have too much respect for the two preceding editors, to set my judgment above their concurring opinions, and therefore have left the note of admiration placed by Mr Steevens at the end of Antony's speech, undisturbed. — Knight : We agree with Malone that they each desire the other to be seated ; and that Caesar puts an end to the bandying of compliments by taking his seat — [I think there can be little doobl that Malone is right]
42. Or being] Abbott (§ 404) : < Being' is often used for it being, or being so, very much like Ifv and its compounds in Greek. — [See also III, vi, 32, which Abbott gives as a parallel example, but is capable of a different explanation.]
46. derogately] Walker ( Vers. 274) gives this word in the present passage as an example in his 'Article Iv:' <We sometimes find two unaccented syllables inserted between what are ordinarily the fourth and fifth, or sixth and seventh, the whole form being included in one word.'
51. Did practise on my State] Steevens: To 'practise' means to employ unwarrantable arts or stratagems. So, in the Countess of Pembroke's Anionie, * nothing killes me so. As that I so my Cleopatra see Practize with Caesar.' [Act III. For < practifle ' in this sense, see Shakespeue passim.]
ACT u, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA 93
Alight be my queftion. 52
Ant. How intend you, pra6HsM ?
Ca/. You may be pleasM to catch at mine intent, 3y what did heere befall me. Your Wife and Brother 5 5
Made warres vpon me, and their conteftation Was Theame for you, you were the word of warre. 57
$y, pra^iid'\ practise Anon. ap. ^T^ WcuTheanuforyou^ruastheatfCd
Cun. for you^ Theob. Han. Warb. Cap. Was
55- w^.] Om. Popc, + . theme for them^ Ktly. Was knomon for
56, 57. their., .you^ for contestation yours, Orson. Was you for theme JAW-
Their theme was you, M. Mason, Ran. ford ap. Cam.
Theame'^ Theme Fj. Theam F^.
56, 57. their contestation Was Theame for you, you were the word of warre] Warburton : The only meaning of this can be, that the war, which Antony's wife and brother made npon Caesar, was theme for Antony too to make war ; or was the occasion why he did make war. But this is directly contrary to the context, which shows, Antony did neither encourage them to it, nor second them in it. We cannot doubt then, but the poet wrote: < — and their contestation Was them*d for you,' f. e. The pretence of the war was on your account, they took up arms in your name, and you were made the theme and subject of their insurrection. — Johnson : I am neither satisfied with the reading nor the emendation: them^d is, I think, a word ooautborised, and very harsh. Perhaps we may read: ' — their contestation Had theme from you,' The dispute derived its subject from you. It may be corrected by mere transposition : ' — their contestation You were theme for, you were the word — .' — Capell (i, 32) : Though there can be no doubt made that [Warburton' s] emendation is just [Capell adopted it.], and his interpretation also ; yet is grammar made dreadfully free with, and the analogy of language : for, according to the latter, thewid can have no other sense but — proposed as a theme, given out as such ; and must, according to grammar, be govern' d of ' contestation ; ' but this sense and con- struction bring matters back nearly to the point they were in under the old reading — ' theame : ' the fault is in the Poet himself, whose licence of expression is sometimes excessive. — Steevens : < Was theme for you,' I believe, means only, * was proposed as an example for you to follow on a yet more extensive plan ; ' as themes are given for a writer to dilate upon. Shakspeare, however, may prove the best commentator on him- self! Thus, in Cariolanus, I» > • * — throw forth greater themes For insurrection's argu- ing.' Sidnius calls Coriolanus, ' — the theme of our assembly.' — M alone : That is, * their contestation derived its theme or subject from you ; you were their word of war ; ' this aflfords a clear and consistent sense. To obtain the sense desired from War- harton's emendation, we should read — * Was them'd from you — .' So, in Tro. and Cress. : < She is a theme of honour and renown, A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds.' That he must have written from, appears by Antony's answer : * You do mistake your business ; my brother never Did urge me in his act.' 1. e. *■ never made me the theme for insurrection's arguing.' — M. Mason : I should suppose that some of the words have been misplaced, and that it ought to stand thus : < — and for con- testation Their theme was you; you were the word of war.' — Collier (ed. ii) : Their contestation was not theme for Antony, but Antony was their theme for con-
94 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act ii. sc. U.
Ant. You do miftake your bufines, my Brother neuer 58
Did vrge me in his A£l : I did inquire it.
And haue my Learning from fome true reports 60
That drew their fwords with you, did he not rather Difcredit my authority with yours, And make the warres alike againft my ilomacke, 63
5S. y<mr\ the Han. thiir Anon. ap. 59. inquire'\ require Theob. ii» Waib.
Cam. enquire Var. '78.
59. his] this Han. 60. reports] reporters Pope, Han.
61. yoUf] you, F^F^ et seq.
— • — — ^ ^
testation. * Was ' and * for ' accidentally changed places ; therefore we read, * and their contestation For theme was you.' This is all that is necessary, and it is strange that the commentators, in their < contestation/ shoald not hare discovered what was required. — [Thus it stood in Collier*s Second Edition, but in his Third Edition^ Collier himself failed to ' discover what was required ' and his text follows the Folio, 'Was theme for you,' without comment. ]~-Staunton: The meaning is apparent, though the construction is obscure and perhaps corrupt. We ought possibly to read, — *//ad you for theme,' etc. — Schmidt {Lex.) defines 'theme' in the pres- ent passage as ' a matter, an enterprise undertaken in your interest.' — Deighton : (Conj'ect. Headings^ p. 41) : Schmidt's explanation would be excellent, if only the words would bear that sense. Though 'theme' is spelt in the Folios < theame' or 'theam' [or * theme,' F,], I am satisfied that it is nothing else than then (thenne), perhaps sophisticated by a copybt who thought < the word of war ' was explanatoiy of it [There is, possibly, one interpretation which may justify the text as it stands. Csesar has just insinuated that Anthony while still in Egypt * practised' against him, and is attempting to prove this, by what befell in Italy. His case would have been weak indeed, if he could assert merely that Anthony's wife and brother, in their war, had used Anthony's name as a pretext; in such circumstances, Anthony himself might be as innocent as the babe unborn. To prove Anthony guilty, therefore, Caesar must connect him, personally, with this * contestation.' He asserts, therefore, that this very contestation was cause enough, in itself, for Anthony's practises — the mere fact that it existed was sufficient matter for Anthony to work on, or as it stands, in the fewest possible words, in the text, * their contestation was theme for 3rou.' Then, in order to involve them all, Fulvia, Lucius, and Anthony, in one common • practise,' Csesar adds, * you were the word of war.' — Ed.]
57. you were the word of warre] John Hunter : The signal word of batde. So in the Julius Cesar of North's Plutarch, * Brutus' men ran to give charge upon their enemies, and tarried not the word of battle, nor commandment to give charge.' [See, also, 'death's the word,' I, ii, 158.]
58, 59. neuer Did vrge me in his Adt] Warburton : That is, never did make use of my name as a pretence for the war.
6a reports] That is, reporters, the abstract for the concrete. See (in this ed. ) Lov^s Lab. Z. V, ii, 88, * incounters ' for encounterers, together with the following additional instances : — ' wrongs ' for wrongers, — Jiich. II : II, iii, 128 ; * speculations ' for speculators. — Lear, III, i, 24; 'chase' for object of chase,— j Hen. VI: II, iv, II ; possibly, there may be added, 'slander' for slanderer^ Rich. II: I, i, 113.
ACT 11, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 95
Hauing alike your caufe. Of this, my Letters
Sefore did (atisfie you. If you'l patch a quarrell, 65
.As matter whole you haue to make it with,
64* cam/eJl cau/e : F,. cau/e / F,F^ 66. you haue to make] Ran. Knt, Coll.
«t seq. (MS), Wh. i, C-Clarke. you haue to
65. y^i] you Ff, Rowe. you will take Ff. you*ve not to make Rowe, + y Cap. (Errata.) Dyce ii, iii, Ktly, Dtn. you have not to
661 As matter] No matter ColL MS. make Cap. et cet you've nought to make
and you halve to make Anon. ap. Cam.
64* Hauing alike your cause] Johnson : The meaning seems to be, ' having the same cause as you to be offended with me.' But why, because he was offended with Antony, should he make war upon Caesar? May it not read thus: * /fating' alike our cause ? ' — Stebvens : The old reading is immediately explained by Antony's being the partner with Octayius in the cause against which his brother fought — Maix)NX: That is, / having alike your cause. Did he not (says Antony) make wars against the inclination of me also, of me, who was engaged in the same cause with yourself? Dr Johnson supposed that having meant, he having, and hence has sug- gested an unnecessary emendation.
66. As] Here equivalent to inasmuch as, since. See I, iv, 25.
66. As matter whole you haue to make it with] Johnson : The original read- ing is without doubt erroneous. — Steevens : The old reading may be right It seems to allude to Antony's acknowledged neglect in aiding Caesar; but yet Antony does not allow himself to be faulty upon the present cause alleged against him. — Malons : I have not the smallest doubt that the correction made by Rowe is right The structure of the sentence, *As matter,' etc., proves decisively that not was omitted. Of all the errors that happen at the press, omission is the most frequent. — Knight (following the text) : That is, if you'll patch a quarrel so as to seem the whole matter you have to make it with, you must not patch it with this complaint. H^ole is opposed to patch. — Collier (also following the text) : That is, do not find out a cause of quarrel where none exists ; do not patch a quarrel when no patching is required, because the matter is whole. — Singer : The negative is absolutely necessary to make sense of the passage. — Staunton : The negative is clearly indispensable ; but to sadsfy the metre, Shakespeare may have adopted the old form n*have instead tihave not, — Nichols (i» 9) : The original text is right, and means, as if you have a whole matter to make it of, and wish to preserve to it the appearance of integrity, —of its being made out of a whole piece, — < it must not be with this ' — for this patch will show, will be seen. On the other hand, if [Rowe's not] be correct — if Caesar did wish to ' patch a quarrel ' — not having matter whole to make it of, surely no better matter could offer itself for the purpose than that which he is here expressly told he could not use. The wife and brother of Antony had made war upon Caesar. Caesar accuses Antony, although he was in Egypt, of having instigated them ; of being, as he says, * the word of war.' Antony denies it ; and, most likely, truly ; but had Caesar wanted to make use of the facts, as far as they went, for the purpose of patch- ing a quarrel with Antony, public opinion, notwithstanding Antony's denial, would perhaps have gone with Caesar; and though in itself, it might not have been a suf- ficient cause of quarrel, yet with the addition of a few other grievances, it might have been made to constitute one. Still, it would have borne the appearance, as Antony
96 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc. ii.
It muft not be with this. 67
Ccgf. You praife your felfe, by laying defefts of iudge- ment to me : but you patcht vp your excufes. 69
68,69. Y<yu,„excufe5\ Ff, Rowe, Knt. 68, 69. de/fcts.^fm] to me defects of
Lines end, selfe^ ,,, but, ..excuses Pope et judgment Cap. Ran. cct. 69. patcht\ patch F^F^, Rowe,-i-.
says, of a patched quarrel, and not as made out of whole matter. — Ingleby (Sh. the Man^ etc., i, 145) accepts the reading of the Folio, and interprets *you haue ' in the sense of obligation, you must, * Antony,' he says, * refers to former letters, and Caesar to former excuses ; so that when Antony speaks of patching the quarrel^ he means that the quarrel has been already worn out by discussion. Caesar ought (he says) to be able to adduce a new and entire ground of complaint ; but that if he wiU patch up the old quarrel he must do it with something else than the pretence that Antony's wife and brother have made wars upon him.' Ingleby concludes somewhat in Warburtonian style : < This conclusiye interpretation of the text was proposed to me by Prof. Sylvester, the world-renowned mathematician. After this, an editor who shall reprint the text with Rowe's emendation will only have the excuse of ignorance.' — Hudson adopts in his text the emendation, ' As matter whole you Icuh to make it with,' and remarks, ' I had conjectured lack but found afterwards that I had been anticipated by an anonymous writer.' I do not know who this anonymous writer is ; he is also, apparently, unknown to the Cambridge Elditors. — The Cowden-Clarkes (following the text) : That is, if you wish to botch up a quarrel, as you have whole and sound matter to make it good with, you must not use such flimsy stuff as this. We think that the phraseology is purposely equivocal here : Antony allowing Caesar to understand either ' If you desire to pick a quarrel with me, 3rou could find stronger ground to base it upon than these frivolous causes of complaint,' or * If 3roa wish to make up the quarrel between us, you have better means of doing so than by ripping up these trivial grievances.' — Irving Edition finds Cowden-Clarke's suggestion that the phraseology is equivocal, ' a forced interpretation. The meaning appears rather to be the reverse : make trivial things — ^mere bits trnd patches, as it were — the ground of quarrel. These slight occasions for disagreement are opposed to matter whoie^ or some serious cause for dissension.' — Rolfe : A few editors follow the Folio, bat their attempts to explain the passage are forced and unsatisfactory. — Thiselton : ' As ' is equivalent here to as though ; compare I, ii, iio ; IV, i, i. The meaning is, ' in such a way that it will seem to be made all of a piece.' [To me the meaning seems to be. If 3rou'll patch a quarrel, inasmuch as you must make the patch out of good whole material, you must not take this. I think Ingleby is entirely right in his interpretation. — Ed.]
68, 69. laying defecfts of iudgement to me] Capell (i, 32) : The import of which in short, is — you praise yourself at my expense : and this being so, the word * me ' in the next line, must be spoke with an emphasis ; which can not be lay'd upon it, in the situation it occupies in all former copies [see Text, Notes for Capell' s text], and by this the transposition is justify'd : Mistakes of this sort are often made by the pen, and oftner [jiV] still by the press ; such presses especially as this Poet had the fate to come out of.
69. excuses] Walker ( Crit. i, 246) : I think excuse is more Elizabethan. — Dyck (ed. ii) makes independently the same conjecture, which is adopted by Hudson.
ACT II, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 97
Anth, Not fo,not fo : 70
I know you could not lacke, I am certaine on't^ Very neceflity of this thought, that I Your Partner in the caufe 'gainft which he fought, Could not with gracefull ^y^s attend thofe Warres Which fronted mine owne peace. As for my wife, 75
I would you had her fpirit,in fuch another, The third othVorld is yours ,which with a Snaffle, You may pace eafle, but not fuch a wife.
Enobar. Would we had all fuch wiues, that the men might go to Warres with the women. 80
Anth, So much vncurbable, her Garboiles(t!3?/2ir)
71. I am\ Pm Pope,-!-, Dyce ii, iii. Varr. Ktly.
72. Very\ The very Ktly. 76. fuch'\ Om. Steev. conj.
T^, gracef%iU'\ graceful Y^, grateful another^ Ff, Rowe. another!
Pc^,+ , Cap. Var. '73. Ktly. another : Pope et cct.
TS. fronted "^ fronted Cap. Steev. %i, vncurlfalflef'\uncurbableThtoh.-\-,
71-75. I know you could not lacke, . . . mine owne peace] Deighton : That is, I am certain that you could not help feeling how impossible it was for me, whose interests were the same as yours, to regard with favourable eyes those wars which were so opposed to my own peace. * Very * is here an adjective, thorough, * Attend/ in this sense, is more commonly applied to the ears than to the eyes.
74. gracefuU eyes] Steevens : We still say, I could not look handsomely on soch or soch a proceeding.
75. fronted] Bradley ( A'l E, D. s. v. Front, v.* 3) : To stand face to face with ; especially to face in defiance or hostility ; oppose.
76. I would you had her spirit, in such another] Malone : Antony means to say, I wish you had the spirit of Fulvia, embodied in such another woman as her ; I wish you were married to such another spirited woman. By the words, ' you had her sfnrit,' etc. Shakspeare, I apprehend, meant, * you were united tOy or possessed of, a woman with her spirit' Having formerly misapprehended this passage, and sn|^x>sed that Antony wished Augustus to be actuated by a spirit similar to Fulvia' s, I proposed to read — ^en such another, in being frequently printed for e^en in these plays. — Steevens : The plain meaning of Antony is, I wish you had my wife's spirit in another wife ; L e, in a wife of your own. [See Appendix y Plutarch. '\
76. spirit] For the pronunciation of spirit, see Walker {Crit. i, 193) or I, ii, 143.
77, 78. with a Snaffle, You may pace easie] Schmidt {Lex. s.v. Pace. 2, transitive) : To teach (a horse) to move according to the will of the rider. — [^Quan- deque bonus dormitat^ etc. — Ed.]
79, 8a that the men might go to Warres with the women] Hudson : I am uncertain whether this means that the men might go to war in company with the women, or go to war against them. — [I think that the plural ' warres ' decides in fityoor of Hudson's first meaning ; the number of fighters on one side, at least, would be certainly doubled. — Ed.]
81. 80 much vncurbable, her Garboiles] John Hunter observes that < vncurb-
7
98 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act n. a
Made out of her impatience : which not wanted ShrodenefTe of policie to : I g^eeuing grant. Did you too much difquiet, for that you mud. But fay I could not helpe it
Ccefar. I wrote to you, when rioting in Alexandria you Did pocket vp my Letters : and with taunts Did gibe my Mifiue out of audience.
AnL Sir, he fell vpon me, ere admitted, then : Three Kings I had newly feafted, and did want Of what I was i'th'moming ; but next day I told him of my felfe, which was as much
83. Skrodmeffe] Shrewdnefs F^F^. Thcob. Waib. Johns. Cap. AUxam to:^ too: F,F^. too^ Rowe. you Var. '78 et seq.
84. !»«/?,] must Thcob. ct scq. %%, gibe\ beg F^, Rowe.
85. fV.] it? Staunton's Photolith. 89. Sir] Separate line, Cap. et 1
86. when^.you] Separate line, Rowe vpon] on Rowc, + , Varr. R et leq. admitted , then :] admitted:
Alexandria you] Alexandria^ you Rowe et seq.
able ' is here an epithet to the pronoun * her ; ' and Delius believes that it ref the she involved in < her garboils,' which amounts to about the same, and is, wil present text, an unavoidable explanation, for the simple reason that 'vncurb which, as Madden (p. 313) says, ' clearly has its origin in the stable,' cannot righ be predicated of a * garboil.' Keightley ingeniously evades the difficulty by le Anthony's previous speech unfinished and ending it, after Enobarbus's interru] with ' uncurbable.' Thus : — * with a snaffle You may pace easy, but not si
wife,[ ]So much uncurbable. Her garboils/ etc. His intention would
been possibly a little clearer, had he marked Enobarbus's speech as an Aside, 1 it probably is. — Ed.
83. Shrodenesse] Spelled phonetically. — Ed.
86-88. I wrote to 3fOu, . . . out of audience] The feeble punctuation c Folio will readily give way to almost any punctuation of these lines. Dyce's, y has been followed by the Globes the Cambridge ^ and the majority of subsequen tors : * I wrote to you When rioting in Alexandria ; ' is somewhat objectioi inasmuch as it is grammatically ambiguous whether Caesar was rioting or Ant' There should be at least a conuna after 'you' (as in the Folio), but a semi-c as suggested by Lloyd (a/. Cam. )» would be better. Capell's punctuation is goo< wrote to you, ^Mlen, rioting in Alexandria, you,* etc. All colons or semi-colons * Alexandria ' seem to me misplaced. Oesar is enumerating Anthony's offence pocket up his letters is the first distinct and separate offence ; to gibe his miss the second ; and the two should be distinguished as they are in the Folio, so it : to me. — En.
88. MUiue] Macbeth in his letter to his wife says that there came 'mi from the king, who all -hailed me,' etc.
9a. I told him of my selfe] Warburton : That is, told him the condition
ACT II, sc. u.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 99
As to haue askt him pardon. Let this Fellow 93
Be nothing of our ftrife : if we contend
Out of our queftion wipe him. 95
Ccefar. You haue broken the Article of your oath, which you fhall neuer haue tongue to charge me with.
Lep. Soft CtE/ar.
Ant. No Lepidns , let him fpeake, The Honour is Sacred which he talks on now, 100
96,97. You. .,with'\\ATit^^TAy broken Hal. Cam. Separate line, Han. Cap.
',.fuuer..,wUh Rowe et seq. Steev. Sing. Dyce, Glo. Wh. ii.
98. Soft Csefar.] Soft^ Otsar, Rowe. loo. Honour m] honour's Pope, +, Soft^ Otsar^ soft. Ktly. Mai. Ran. Stcev. Varr. ColL Sing. Wh.
99. No^ Ff, Rowe, Pope. Theob. Sta. Ktly. Warb. Johns. Varr. Knt, Coll. Wh. i,
in, when he had his last audience. — Delius questions Warburton's interpretation and holds the true meaning to be, ' I told him of my own accord.' Whereupon, Schmidt {^NoitSf p. 173) acutely remarks that had this been the meaning, the text should run
* I told it him of myself.'
94. Be nothing of our strife] Compare ' but nothing of his ill-ta'ne suspition.' — IVint, TaU, I, ii, 530; * nothing of that wonderfull promise,' etc. — Twelfth Nighty III, iv, 263.
99. No] Walker ( Vers, 289) : Lines wanting the tenth or final syllable, are (as it appears to me) unknown to Shakespeare, as they are certainly at variance with his rhythm. — [Accordingly, Walker approves of the arrangement which was adopted first \yf Hanmer, whereby * No * was separated from * Lepidus ' and made to follow
* Caesar.' It is to be observed that the division of 11. 96, 97 into metrical lengths was made by Rowe, and it is quite possible so to change it as not to need * No ' for a tenth syllable, — an ineffable relief to the o'erfraught heart — Ed.]
loa The Honour is Sacred] Warburton : Sacred, for unbroken, unviolated, — Johnson : Warburton seems to understand this passage thus : * The honour which lie talks of me as lacking, is unviolated. I never lacked it.' This, perhaps, may be the true meaning ; but, before I read the note, I understood it thus : Lepidus inter- rupts Caesar, on the supposition that what he is about to say will be too harsh to be endured by Antony ; to which Antony replies — * No, Lepidus, let him speak ; the security of honour on which he now speaks, on which this conference is held now, is sacred f even supposing that I lacked honour be/ore. — M alone: Antony, in my opinion, means to say — The theme of honour which he now speaks of, namely, the religion of an oath, for which he supposes me not to have a due regard, is sacred ; it is a tender point, and touches my character nearly. Let him therefore urge his charge, that I may vindicate myself. — M. Mason : I do not think that either John- son's or Malone's explanation of this passage is satisfactory. The true meaning of it appears to be this: — Caesar accuses Antony of a breach of honour in denying to send him aid when he required it, which was contrary to his oath. Antony says, in his defence, that he did not deny his aid, but, in the midst of dissipation, neglected to send it : that having now brought his forces to join him against Pompey, he had redeemed that error ; and that therefore the honour which Caesar talked of, was now
ICX) THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc xl
Suppofing that I lackt it : but on Ccefar, loi
The Article of my oath.
Ccefar. To lend me Armes, and aide when I required them, the which you both denied.
Anth. Neglefled rather : 105
And then when poyfoned houres had bound me vp From mine owne knowledge, as neerely as I may, He play the penitent to you. But mine honefty, Shall not make poore my greatneffe,nor my power Worke without it. Truth is, that Fuluia^ 1 10
To haue me out of Egypt, made Warjes heere, For which my felfe, the ignorant motiue, do So farre aske pardon, as befits mine Honour To ftoope in fuch a cafe.
Lep. ^Tis Noble fpoken. 115
Mece. If it might pleafe you, to enforce no further
loi. <>« Caefar] OH, Caefar FjF^. 107. kncwledge^ Ff. knowUt^e ;
102. oath.l Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. Rowe, Pope, Theob. Warb. knowledge. Coll. Wh. Glo. oath — Theob. et cet. Han. Johns, et seq.
103, 104. To...them'\ Separate line, 115. NobW] F^, Mai. Var. '21, Knt, Rowe et seq. Coll. i, Dyce, Hal. Sta. Glo. Cam. Nobly
106. poy/oned'\ poisoned Pope et seq. F^F^ et cet.
sacred and inyiolate, supposing that he had been somewhat deficient before, in the performance of that engagement. — The adverb now refers to i>, not to talks on ; and the line should be pointed thus : < The honour's sacred that he talks on, now, Sup> posing that I lack'd it.' — [I cannot see that anything is here implied more than that Anthony's sacred honour haying been impugned, there can be no remission of the explicit charge, made by him who had supposed that Anthony had violated it. — Ed.]
102. The Article of my oath] A majority of editors have followed Theobald in placing a dash af^er ' oath ; ' implying an unfinished sentence. Would not an interro- gation point be better? Anthony is repeating Caesar's own words, and asking, I think, an explanation. — Ed.
106, 107. had bound me vp Prom mine owne knowledge] Deighton : That is, I had become a complete stranger to my nobler nature.
109, no. nor my power Worke without it] M alone: Nor my greatness work without mine honesty. — Delius prefers to consider * it ' as referring not to * honesty * but to ' greatness,' and thus paraphrases the sentence : the honesty with which I acknowledge my fault, cannot injure my greatness, cannot diminish the knowledge of my worth ; nor can it cause my power to be proved worthless.
115. 'Tie Noble spoken] For many examples of adjectives used as adverbs, see, if need be, Abbott, § i. Compare * How honourable . . . wee Determine for her,'
V, i, 71.
116. If it might please you, etc.] Cafell (i, 33) : This imperfect and con- ditional mode of expressing a wish, may be intended as a mark of submissiveness : in
ACTii. sc. u.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA . loi
The griefes betweene ye: to forget them quite, '• 117
Were to remember : that the prefent neede, Speakes to attone you. Lep. Worthily fpoken Mecenas. 120
Enobar, Or if you borrow one anothers Loue for the inftant, you may when you heare no more words of Pofnpey retume it againe : you fhall haue time to wrangle in, when you haue nothing elfe to do. Anth, Thou art a Souldier,onely fpeake no more. 125
Enob. That trueth fhould be filent, I had almoft for- got.
Anth. You wrong this prefence, therefore fpeake no more. 1 29
117. quittt'\ quite. Ff. 1 19. atione\ atone F^.
118. remember : that'\ remember ^ that 120. Worthily^ Worthy Y^.
Ff. remember that Cap. et seq. 125. Souldier,onefy'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope,
119- Speahesl Speak Cap. (corrected Warb. soldier only ; 'Y\\tx^. tX titX.. in Errata.)
mnj other light, is improper ; and — Would were greatly better than * Jf.^ — ^Thiselton (p. 12) : The punctuation of the Folio indicates a deferential hesitancy in venturing to offer advice. — [If this * punctuation ' refers to the comma after 'you,' it is not peculiar to the Folio. There is, I think, no edition without it — Ed.]
117. griefes] That is, grievances.
118. the present neede,] Thiselton (p. 12) : The comma after < neede' shows that that word is to be dwelt upon for emphasis. — [Independently of the fact that the punctuation of Shakespeare's compositors cannot be implicitly followed, it may be doobted that in the passage before us, ' present ' be not the emphatic word. In the Tery next line above there is a comma after *■ quite * ; does this indicate that * quite ' is more emphatic than ' to forget ? ' — Ed.]
119. attone] Murray (A^. E. D, j. v.) : Atone is formed on the adverbial phrase ^ one in its combined form as representing a simple idea, and 1 6th century pro- nuDciation. Short for the phrase ' set or make at one.' . . . From the frequent phrases 'set at one' or 'at onement,' the combined atonement began to take the place of onement early in the i6th century, and atone to supplant one^ verb, about 1550. Atone was not admitted into the Bible in 161 1, though atonement had been in since Tindale.
120. spoken] Dyce (ed. ii) conjectures that this should be tpoke^ overlooking the fact that it is so printed by Steevens in 1793, followed by the Variorums of 1803 and 1813, and is suggested by Walker ( CViV. i, 131). This oversight, unaccountable in so careful an editor, beguiled the Cam. Edd. who record it as Dyce' s conjecture in their footnotes. — Ed.
126. That trueth should be silent] Steevens : We find a similar sentiment in King Lear : 'Truth's a dog must to kennel,' etc., I, iv, 124. — Walker (CnV. ii, 170) : The structure of the sentence looks as if Enobarbus were referring to a proverb. — [Steevens and Staunton in the next note make a similar suggestion.]
102 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act ii. sc. iL
Enob., Go too then : your Confiderate ftone. 130
130. Go too] Go to Ff. gone Leo (ed. p. 142 and iV. 6h Qu, IV,
your Confideraiejloru.'] your con- iii, 191). see me your considerate staHe-
siderate stone — Var. '73. your confed- Words, you* re considerate stone Elxe.
erateslove. Heath, your considerate tone your confederates atone Lloyd ap. Cam.
Nichols (withdrawn), your considerate your confederate atone Browne ap. Cam. stone am / Ktly conj . your confederate's
130. your Considerate stone] Johnson : This line is passed by all the editors, as if they understood it, and believed it universally intelligible. I cannot find in it any very obvious, and hardly any possible meaning. I would therefore read : ' Go to then, you considerate ones.* You who dislike my frankness and temerity of speech, and are so considerate and discreet, go to, do your own business. — Cafell (i, 33), in this instance keener than Dr Johnson, gives the meaning of Enobarbus as that * he would, from thenceforth, be a very stone for silence, but he would think a little.' — Steevens : That is, if I must be chidden, henceforward I will be as mute as a marble statue, which seems to think, though it can say nothing. ' As silent as a stone,' however, might have been once a conunon phrase. — [Hereupon follow several examples which might be multiplied, drawn from old sources where a stone is used as a simile of silence or stillness.] — Blackstons : The metre of this line is deficient. It will be perfect, and the sense rather clearer, if we read (without altering a letter) : * — your consideratest one.' I doubt, indeed, whether this adjective is ever used in the superlative degree ; but in the mouth of Enobarbus it might be pardoned. — RiTSON (Cursory Crit, 85) : As Enobarbus, to whom this line belongs, generally speaks in plain prose, there is no occasion for any further attempt to harmonize it — Collier (ed. i) : It may be a question whether Enobarbus means to call Antony *a considerate stone,' or to say merely that he will be silent as a stone. If the former, we must, with Johnson, change < your ' to you ; but the latter affords a clear mean- ing without any alteration of the ancient text. — Dyce {Remarks^ 246) : Enobarbus call Antony a stone ! he would as soon have ventured to throw one at him. John- son's proposed alteration, bad as it certainly was, did not involve such an absurdity. — Collier (ed. ii) : That is, I will be as considerate as a stone. Johnson's notion [where?] that Enobarbus meant to call Antony a < considerate stone,' does not seem to us, recollecting that the words were those of a rough free-spoken soldier, such an ' absurdity ' as it appeared to the Rev. Mr Dyce. In speaking of the note in our first edition, he ought to have remembered two things, which he has entirely overlooked, viz., that we gave the very text he supports, and that we ourselves said no change was needed. If Mr Dyce had been more of a < considerate stone,' he would have saved himself from the appearance of endeavouring to make a fault where he could not find one. We do not at all say that the suspicion would be just, but that he has laid himself open to it. — [Whoever wishes to hear the last word in this deplorable quarrel between two men who had been for many years fast friends, will find it in Dyce's Strictures^ p. 203, where he exultantly proves that to Collier exclusively belongs the notion that Enobarbus called Antony a stone I Time did not abate the flush of Dyce's triumph. Seven years later he repeated these remarks in his Strictures at full length, in his Second Edition, Apparently, so far from being crushed under this appalling stigma of bad preeminence, Collier in his Monovolume placidly printed ^yoH considerate stone,' and in his Third Edition^ while returning to the old text, reprinted the substance of the note in his First Edition.'\ — Staunton : As silent as
ACT II. sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 103
Ca/ar. I do not much diflike the matter, but 131
TJie manner of his fpeech : for't cannot be, We fhall remaine in friendftiip, our conditions So diffring in their a£b. Yet if I knew. What Hoope fhould hold vs ftaunch from edge to edge 135
131, 132. matter.., manner] manner i^^, 1^6. knew^.^aunch ...world :]
,..matttr Warb. Cap. knrw^ ...staunch^ ...worlds Rowe. knew
1^2. forW] for it Varr. Mai. Steev. .. ^/a«»f A,... w^d/, Theob. Warb. Johns.
Varr. Knt, Coll. Wh. Hal. knew. ..staunch^ ...world Vo^ et cct.
a slant was an expression not unusual fonnerly, and the words in the text may here- after be found to be proverbial ; at present they are inexplicable. — Hudson : Mean- ing, apparently, / am your considerate stone ; like a statue, which seems to speak, but does not. — Elze (p. 285) is, apparently, willing to be pilloried alongside of Collier, and suggests, although < with hesitation,' *you^re considerate stone,' that b :
* You are indeed considerate ( « discreet, circumspect), but at the same time " sense- less as a stone,'* inaccessible to conciliatory and tender emotions.' — [Instead of say- ing as in modem parlance, * All right Your obedient servant,' Enobarbus replies in efifect, *I understand. Your intelligent and accommodating stone,' with all that a
* stone ' implies of dumbness, deafness, and impassivity. At least such is the inter- pretation of Enobarbus' s words in the opinion of the present Ed.]
131, 132. I do not much dislike the matter, but The mamier, etc.] War- burton : What, not dislike the matter of it ? when he says presently after, that he would do everything to prevent the evil Enobarbus predicted. Besides are we to suppose that common civility would suffer him to take the same liberty with Antony's lieutenant, that Antony himself did ? Shakespeare wrote * I do not much dislike the manner, but The matter of his speech,' etc., f. e. 'tis not his liberty of speech, but the mischiefs he speaks of, which I dislike. This agrees with what follows, and is said with much urbanity, and show of friendship. — Heath (p. 454) : That is. As to the matter of what he hath said, there is probably too much truth in it, though the want of respect in his manner of saying it may deserve blame. That this is the sense is most clearly evident from the confession of Caesar which immediately follows. — Capell (i, 33) : Here is another transposition; the words * manner* and * matter* : the emendation was started by [Warburton], is confirm'd by what the speaker sajrs afterwards, and recommended by much delicacy. — [The present play was the fifth that Capell printed (vol. i, p. ig, footnote) . It is noteworthy how much in these early plays he was under the influence of Warburton. In the present instance, he preferred the speciousness of Warburton to the sound sense of Heath. — Ed.] — Johnson : < I do not (says Caesar), think the man wrong, but too free of his inter- position ; for it cannot be, we shall remain in friendship ; yet if it were possible, I would endeavour it.'
133. conditions] That is, dispositions, natures, tempers.
135. What Hoope should hold vs staunch] There is the same simile of a hoop about a cask in 2 Hen. IV: IV, iv, 43, * A hoop of gold to bind thy brothers in. That the united vessel of their blood . . . shall never leak.'— Corson (p. 277): It most evidently be understood by this speech, that a *hoop,' and a very politic one, has been already decided upon by Octavius and his crafty counsellor, Agrippa. What
104
THE TRACED IE OF
[act II, sc. ii.
Ath'world : I would perfue it.
Agri, Giue me leaue Ccefar.
Ccefar, Speake Agrippa,
Agri. Thou haft a Sifter by the Mothers fide^admir'd Oftatiia ? Great Mark Anthony is now a widdower.
Ca/arSdy^ not, fay Agrippa ; if Cleopater heard you,your proofe were well deferued of rafhneffe .
136
140
142
136. Ath''\ ath' Rowe ii ct seq. (subs. )
137, Oefar.] Ff, Rowe, + , Coll. ii, iii, Cam. Casar, — Cap. et cet.
138. Agrippa] ^oad Agrippa Words.
139, 14a Thou ... widdower\ Lines end, side.,. Antony.,, widower Rowe et
seq.
139. ^ the\ by thy Yi^ Rowe.
140. Oflauia /] Octavia I Rowe, +, Octavia : Han. Cap. et seq.
widdower. "^ widower: Cap.
141, 142. Say,,,rajknejfe'\ Lines end, Agrippa,,, were, „ra/kneffe Pope. Lines end, Agrippa,,. proof e,.,rajknejfe Theob. et seq.
141. notyfay\ Ff. not so, Rowe et seq. it not Coll. MS.
Cleopater] Cleopatra Ff et seq.
142. proofe^ Ff, Rowe, Pope, eipproof Theob. Warb. reproof yfzxb. conj. Han. Johns, et seq.
of] for Han. Coll. MS.
follows shows this ; and afibrds a special illustration, too, of Antony's genius rebuked by Octavius's.
137. Qiue me leaue Csesar.] It can hardly be that the comma and dash after « Caesar,' begun by Capell and continued by a large majority of modem editors, are right Where all are so courtly in this conference, it cannot be likely that Caesar would break in upon Agrippa's first words, especially if it were merely to tell him to continue speaking, a very needless permission ; the end would have been gained by Caesar's keeping silent If we erase the period of the Folio, I think we should substitute an interrogation mark. — Ed.
139. a Sister by the Mothers side] OcUvia was Caesar*s own sister, by the same mother, Atia ; but Shakespeare here follows Plutarch who says that her mother was Ancharia. See Appendix^ Pbttarck,
141 . Say not, say Agrippa] Corrected by Rowe. This is one of the very numer- ous instances collected by Walker i^Crit, i, 314) in his fifty-eight pages of the ' Sab- stitution of Words,* generally to be attributed, as here, to proximity.
141, 142. your proofe] Theobald said that he made *no scrapie to restore «« your approop^ ' Hani|Er's text reads, < your reproof ' and a footnote has < Warh. emend} Warburton's own text, however, follows Theobald, and he has no note on the passage. Hsath (p. 451) gives a good interpretation of Theobald's text, but there b little need to reprint it, inasmuch as Warburton's emendation has been uniformly followed. M. Mason |»x>periy interpreted ' your reproof' as * the reproof yon would undergo,' and quoted as parallel a passage from Beaumont & Fletcher^s Custom fftJke Ctmntn-, V, iv, where *■ Your great opinion in the worid ' is equivalent, so he said, to * the great opinion conceived of you ; ' but he was herein possibly wrong as to the exact meaning. Malone detected the source of the error ia the Folio, which lay in makii^ the r in * 3roor ' do double duty, for itself and for « rtproof/ and cited as a parallel case * Mine Nightii^e,' IV, viii, 24. This error wtt due» 90 MakMie said, to the transcriber s ear deceiving him. — ^Abbott ({ 423) :
ACT II. sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 105
Anth. I am not marry ed Ccsfar : let me heere Agrippa 143 further fpeake.
Agri. To hold you in perpetuall ami tie, 145
To make you Brothers, and to knit your hearts With an vn-flipping knot, take Anthony, Odauia to his wife : whofe beauty claimes No worfe a husband then the bed of men : whofe Vertue,and whofe generall graces, fpeake 150
That which none elfe can vtter. By this marriage. All little leloufies which now feeme great. And all great feares, which now import their dangers.
Would then be nothing. Truth's would be tales.
Where now halfe tales be truth's : her loue to both, 155
Would each to other, and all loues to both
Draw after her. Pardon what I haue fpoke
For 'tis a (ludied not a prefent thought, 158
143, 144. Agrippa... ^^a>&^] Separate 154, 155. TrutJCs,,.trutk5\Y^, truths line, Rowe et seq. ,.. truths F F^ et seq.
144. furthtr^ farther Coll. Wh. i, 154. be tales'\ be but tales Pope, + ,
Steev. Var. '03, '13, Sing. Dyce ii, iii.
149, 150. whofe,.,fpeake'\ One line, then be tales Cap. Coll. iii. be half tales
^y Rowe et seq. Ran. Sta. conj. be as tales Steev. conj.
153. import^ impart Coll. MS ap. be tales only YJ\y, be mere tales Id. con).
155. halfe tales] half tales Ktly.
Instead of ' your reproof of rashness ' we should now say, ' the reproof of your rash- Bess' (unless *of' here means about, far). — Corson (p. 277) : This speech seems to convey the impression that the proposal of marriage between Antony and Octavia, iDtimated in the last speech of Agrippa, was something new to Octavius. But he evidently knows just what's coming from Agrippa.
147. take Anthony] For other examples of the subjunctive used imperatively, lee Abbott § 364.
151. That which none else can vtter] Wordsworth : That is, for themselves better than any one else can.
154 would be tales] Walker ( Vers. p. 165) approves of Hanmer's 'would be b$ti tales.' — Staunton: The remedy [for the defective metre] most accordant with the poet's manner is to read * would be half tales,' etc. — [Herein Staunton was, unwittingly, anticipated by Rann, an editor far too often overlooked. — Ed.] — Hud- son : The meaning here is somewhat dark, but may be explained thus : < Even true reports of differences between you will then pass for idle tales, and will not catch public credit ; whereas now mere rumours of such differences easily gain belief, and so do all the mischief of truths.' Here, as often, * where ' is equivalent to whereas. —Abbott (} 508) gives this line as an instance of the omission of a foot [before •Truth's'].
I06 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act ii, sc. il
By duty ruminated.
Anth. Will GcBfar fpeake ? i6o
Ccefar, Not till he heares how Anthony is toucht, With what is fpoke already.
Anth, What power is in Agrippa^ If I would fay Agrippay be it fo, To make this good ? 165
CcB/ar. The power of Cafar^ And his power,vnto Oilauia,
Anth, May I neuer (To this good purpofe,that fo fairely fhewes) Dreame of impediment : let me haue thy hand 170
Further this aft of Grace : and from this houre. The heart of Brothers goueme in our Loues, And fway our great Defignes.
Ccefar. There's my hand: A Sifter I bequeath you, whom no Brother 175
Did euer loue fo deerely. Let her Hue To ioyne our kingdomes^and our hearts, and neuer Flie off our Loues againe.
Lepi. Happily , Amen .
Ant.\ did not think to draw my Sword 'gainft Pompeyy 180 For he hath laid ftrange courtefies, and great
161. totuht'^ ^oucA't/Kowc, 170, 171. hand Furtherl hand; Fur-
162. fpoke\ fpoken F^F^, Rowe. /A^rTheob. et seq. (subs.)
already^ Om. Han. 174. Ther^s\ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Knt,
164. Agrippa ...yi>] As quotation. Sing. There is Theob. et cet.
Theob. [Antony takes it. Coll. ii.
166, 167. The^.Andl Ff, Rowe, Pope, 180. ^gainfll againft Ff.
Knt, Sta. Separate line, Theob. ct cet. 181. hath laid^ hath FjF^.
168. Mayl Mao F,.
162. is spoke] See line 115, above.
164. If I would say] Abbott (§ 331) : This means, <If I wished, were dis- posed, to say.*
170. let me haue thy hand] Note the instant change to the familiar <thy/ Csesar is not so warm-hearted ; he retains the distant ' you ' to the end. — Ed.
175. I bequeath you] Murray {N.E.D, s.v.) : An ancient word, the retention of which is due to the traditional language of wills. II. To ' say (a thing) away ; ' to give or part vrith by formal declaration. . . . b. To * leave * by will. (The only surviving sense for which it is the proper term.)
178. Flie ofiT] In the same constraction with 'Let' in line 176.
ACT II, sc. iL] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
Of late vpon me. I muft thanke him onely, I-eaft my remembrance, fuffer ill report : At heele of that, defie him. LcpL Time cals vpon's. Of vs muft Pompey prefently be fought, Or elfe he feekes out vs. -Anth. Where lies he ? Ca/ar. About the Mount-Mefena. Anth, What is his ftrength by land ? Ca/ar. Great, and encreafmg : ^ut by Sea he is an abfolute Mafter.
Anth, So is the Fame, Would we had fpoke together. Haft we for it,
107 182
185
190
194
182. him onefy,"] Aim, only Nicholson ^. Cam.
183. Ltafil Left Yi et seq.
185. vpofC5\ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Warb. Johns. Dyce, Wh. Glo. orCs Han. upon us Cap. et cet.
188. Where] And where Han. Steev. Vtr. '03, 13.
he /] he J Casar f Cap. he now ? Kdy, Words.
189. Mefena\ MUenum Rowe. Mise- iNu Johns.
190-192. What.., Mafter] Ff, Rowe, ■\ , Knt, Glo. Sta. Lines end, strength .,. sea... master Han. Cam. et cet.
190, 191. by land? Csefar. Great] Caes. By land great Han. Ktly.
190. What is] Ff, Rowe, + , Knt, Glo. Sta. WhaVs Han. Cam. et cet.
191, 192. Great... Sea] Separate line, Theob. et seq.
193. So is] So^s Han.
luime] Frame F F , Rowe.
194. Hajl] Hajle Y^^,
183. Least my remembrance, suffer ill report] Johnson : Lest I be thought too willing to forget benefits, I must barely return him thanks, and then I will defy him.
184. At heele] Abbott (§ 89) considers that the article is here omitted. It is also possible that it is absorbed in the / of * At. '
186. Of vs] * Of ' is here used of the agent where we should say by.
189. About] To complete the deficient line, * Or else he seekes out vs. Where lies he?' Walker (§ Crit. iii, 298) would affix to it this 'About' and pronounce it 'Bout.
189. the Mount-Mesena] Rolf£ : The promontory in the Bay of Naples, now known as the Punta di Miseno.
194. Would we had spoke together] Schmidt {Lex.) : Sometimes, in a kind of euphemism, * speak * is equivalent to exchange blows, to fight : * they lie in view, but have not spoke as yet.' — Coriol. I, iv, 4; *thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails; we*ll speak with thee at sea* — the present play, II, vi, 30. — [The third and last of Schmidt's examples is the present line, which, in his translation of this play, he thus renders, *0 wiren wir schon an ihm ! ' with the note (p. 173) that Tieck translates it : < '< H&tt' ich ihn doch gesprochen ! " in which sense,' Schmidt goes on to say, ' all other editors, to judge from their eloquent silence, have also taken
Io8 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc. ii.
Yet ere we put our felues in Armes, difpatch we 195
The bufineffe we haue talkt of.
CcBfar. With moil gladneffe, And do inuite you to my Sifters view, Whether ftraight He lead you.
Anth. Let vs Lepidus not lacke your companie. 200
Lep, Noble Anthony, not fickeneffe fhould detaine me.
Flourijh. Exit omnes, Manet Enobarbus, Agrippa, Mecenas.
Mec. Welcome from JEgypt Sir. 205
Eno. Halfe the heart of Ca/ar, worthy Mecenas. My honourable Friend Agrippa.
Agri. Good Enobarbus.
Mece. We haue caufe to be glad, that matters are fo well difgefted : you ftaid well by't in Egypt. 210
199. Whether^ Whither Yt Han.
//^•] rU FjF^. / will Varr. 203. Exit] Exeunt Ff.
Mai. Steev. Van. 204-217. Om. Gar.
200-202. Z^/...m^] Lines end, Lepi- 204. Manet] Manent Ff.
dus, ..Anthony.,. me ^2Ji, Q9,^,V^,^^% 206. Mecenas. ] i9/<fr^itar, Pope. Me-
et seq. c^tnas ! Theob. + .
[Scene III. Pope, + . 210. difgeaed^ digeftedYi.
201. Noble\ NobldY^. byt'\ Yf, Rowe, + , Sing. Dyce,
203. Flourifti.] Om. Ff, Rowe, Pope, Wh. Glo. Ktly. fy it Cap. et cet
it.' He then quotes the same examples which he gives in his Lexicon, with the remark that they can bear no possible meaning other than that which he gives. — Ed.]
197. With most gladnesse] See Abbott (§ 17) for other examples where * most ' is used as the superlative of great.
199. Whether] Walker ( Vers. 105) : The verse indicates that this is a mono- syllable.
206. Halfe the heart] Deighton : A translation of Horace's ' animae dimidiom mese.' — Ode I, iii, 8.
206. Eno. Halfe the heart, etc.] Delius {^Sh. Jahrb. V, 267) : Only once in the earnest political conference of the Triumvirs did Enobarbus venture, in prose, to interject a bold word, for which he was immediately checked ; but now, there- fore, after the departure of his rigorous masters, he enters with more freedom into a conversation in prose with Maecenas. But as soon as the talk rises from the domain of mere gossip to a description of Antony's first meeting with Qeopatra, he resumes blank verse. The poet was well enough aware that only in blank verse could this majestic masterpiece be adequately portrayed, and, therefore, the humour- ous side of Enobarbus' s character is here abandoned.
210. disgested] An old, not uncommon form ; it occurs again in Coriol. I, i, 154, in the Folio.
ACT II, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 109
Enob. I Sir, we did fleepe day out of countenaunce : 211 and made the night light with drinking.
Mece. Eight Wilde-Boares rofted whole at a break- faft : and but twelue perfons there. Is this true ?
Eno.This was but as a Flye by an Eagle;we had much 215 more monftrous matter of Feaft, which worthily defer- ued noting.
Mecen as. She's a mod triumphant Lady, if report be fquare to her.
Enob. When fhe firft met Marke Anthony^ fhe purft 220 vp his heart vpon the Riuer of Sidnis.
Agri. There fhe appeared indeed : or my reporter de- uis'd well for her.
Eno. I will tell you, 224
2IX. / 5f>,] y(y 5iV, Rowe. Ay , Sir, 220-271. Om. Kemble.
Thcob. Ay, sir; Cap. Mai. et seq. 220. purft'\ pursed Rovre,
214. />l<vr.] Ff, Rowe, Pope. ^Aergf 221. Sidnis] Cydnus ¥i.
Su. Ktly. there; — Theob. et cet.(subs.) 222, 223. deuis'd,.,her'] Separate line,
215. <w] Om. Rowe ii, Pope. Cap. Varr. Ran. 218-285. Transposed to follow I, i, 224. yoUt'lyoUf Sir: Cap.
71. Gar.
2x3. Eight Wilde-Boares, etc.] See Appendix, Plutarch,
215. This was but as a Flye by an Eagle] By the few editors who have taken note of this phrase, it has been interpreted as conveying merely a comparison ; the eight boars were merely as a fly by the side of, and so in comparison with, an eagle. Is it not capable of a different interpretation ? Maecenas wonders that eight boars shoold have been a breakfast for only twelve persons. Enobarbus replies, in effect, that so far from eight boars having been considered an inordinate repast, it was no more than a fly would be considered a hearty breakfast by an eagle. — Ed.
218, 219. if report be square to her] Steevens : That is, if report quadrates with her, or suits with her merits.
221. vpon the Riuer of Sidnis] M. Mason : This passage is a strange instance of Diligence and inattention in Shakspeare. Enobarbus is made to say that Cleo- patra gained Antony's heart on the river Cydnus ; but it appears from the conclusion of his own description, that Antony had never seen her there ; that, whilst she was on the river, Antony was sitting alone, enthroned in the market-place, whistling to the air, all the people having left him to gaze upon her : and that, when she landed, be sent to her to invite her to supper. — Cowden-Clarke : The inattention is Bdason's, not Shakespeare's ; the expression ' upon the river of Cydnus,' is here used to signify *the district on the shores of the river of Cydnus,' including the 'city' which ' cast her people out upon her,' and its < market-place ' wherein < Antony ' sat 'enthroned.' The idiom 'upon the Seine/ or 'upon the Thames' is employed to express the adjacent shores of those rivers, the country in their neighborhood. — RoLFE : Mason's criticism reminds one of Yellowplush's surprise at finding Boulogne*sar- Mer was on the shore and not ' on the sea.'
no
THE TRACED IE OF
[act II, sc.
The Barge fhe lat in, like a burniflit Throne
Burnt on the water : the Poope was beaten Gold,
Purple the Sailes »nd fo perfumed that
The Windes were Loue-ficke.
With them the Owers were Siluer,
Which to the tune of Flutes kept ftroke, and made
The water which they beate, to follow fafter;
As amorous of their ftrokes. For her owne perfon,
It beggerd all difcription, (he did lye
In her Pauillion, cloth of Gold, of Tiffue,
0're-pi(5luring that Venns, where we fee
221
235
225-249. Mnemonic lines, Warb. 226. jff«r«/] -5«r«VMal. Steev.Vair. CoU. Dyce, Wh. Glo. Hal.
228, 229. The ... Siluer\ One line, Pope et seq.
Loue-fuke. WUh theml Ff, Rowe. love-iick with >w/ Pope, + , Var. '73. love'Sick : with them Knt. i, ii. love-sick with them : Cap. et cet.
229. the Owers] the Oares F,Fj. th'
oars Pope, Theob. Warb. Johns. Dy^ ii, iii. the oars F^ et cet.
231. fafter] after Gould.
232. theirflrokes] herflrokes F^F^.
234. cloth of Gold, of Tiffue] clothof- gold of tissue Sta. In parenthesis, Cap. et seq.
of Tiffue] and tissue Coll. ii, Ktly.
235. Venns] Venus Ff.
225. The Barge she sat m, etc.] Hazlitt (p. 97) : The rich and poetical description of Cleopatra's person seems to prepare the way for, and almost to justify the subsequent infatuation of Antony when in the sea-fight at Actium, he leaves the battle, and ' like a doating mallard ' follows her flying sails. — Hartley Coleridge (ii, 184) : Beautiful as this description is, one might almost desire that it had been uttered by a more interesting personage. Dryden has transferred it to Antony,— copied it pretty closely, — or perhaps kept closer to Plutarch's prose. The poetry he almost suppresses ; but he certainly introduces the story more artfully. Narration for its own sake is not, however, a frequent fault of Shakespeare.
228. were Loue-sicke.] Knight (ed. i and ii) virtually adheres to the punc- tuation of the Folio, which he observes * is surely more poetical.* Dyce quotes the observation, prints it in Italics, and afiixes two exclamation marks ; a cheap mode of expressing a patronizing superiority. In Knight's Second Edition, Revised, the Folio is abandoned and Capell followed. — Ed.
234. cloth of Gold, of Tissue] Collier (ed. ii) : This is nonsense; it could not be ' cloth of gold ' if it were * of tissue.' What was meant must have been that the * cloth of gold * of the pavilion was lined with * tissue. ' The contraction for * and ' was not unfrequently read of by old printers, and such, according to the MS, seems to have been the case here. — Staunton : That is, cloth-of-gold on a ground of tissue. The expression so repeatedly occurs in early English books that we cannot imagine how anyone familiar with such reading can have missed it. — [Staunton here quotes Collier's note, which, he says, is made *• with incredible simplicity.' Collier in his Third Edition abandoned andy the reading of hb MS.]
235. that Venns] Theobald suggests that there is here a reference to the cele-
ACT II, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
III
The fancie out-worke Nature. On each fide her, Stood pretty Dimpled Boyes, like fmiling Cupids, ^With diuers coulour^d Fannes whofe winde did feeme, To gloue the delicate cheekes which they did coole, ^nd what they vndid did.
Agrip' Oh rare for Ant/iony. Eno. Her Gentlewoman, like the Nereides, So many Mer-maides tended her i'th'eyes, -And made their bends adornings. At the Helme.
236
240
244
238. diuers cotdout'd^ Ff. divers- 'Co/cur'dRowej -j- ,Varr. Ran. Knt, Dyce, OIo. Cam. divene-colour' d Cap. et cet.
^39* gloue\gl<we Ff. glow Rowe et seq.
240. vndid did'\ undid, did Thtoh, et seq. (subs.)
242. Geniletuoman'\ Genilewomen Ff. Nereides] Nereids Pope. Nereids, «r Han.
243. Mer-maides] F,, Rowe iu Mere- maids F F^, Rowe i. mermaids Pope.
Vth^eyes] Ff, Rowe, +, Dyce ii, iii, Wh. Vth^guise Mason, Sing. iUh^dais Gould. »* the eyes Cap. et cet
244. made.., adornings.] made their Bends adornings. Theob. made.-.ador- ings. Han. Warb. Johns.
bends] bands, ribands Gould.
brated Venus Anadyomene of Apelles which was painted from Campaspe as a model, whereof an account is given in Pliny's Natural History, Book xxxv, chap. 10. If Shakespeare had any particular Venus in mind, Theobald is possibly right. War- VURTON, for no reason, that I can see, other than jealousy of Theobald, asserts that it was the Venus of Protogenes and gives the reference to Pliny which Theobald did not give. Warburton's assertion, but not Theobald's suggestion, is repeated in the Vario- rum of 182 1, and has been ever since, by those who have mentioned it at all, accepted as his own. Yet, had his reference been verified, it would have been found that while the Venus Anadyomene by Apelles is there twice described, there is not a word said of any Venus by Protogenes. — Ed.
240. what they vndid did] Johnson : It might be read less harshly : < what they did, undid.' — M alone : The wind of the fans seemed to give a new colour to Geopatra's cheeks, which they were employed to cool; and ' what they undid,' i. e. that warmth which they were intended to diminish or allay, (hey did, 1. e., they seemed to produce. — Staunton : We should prefer, 'what they undyd, dyd,* that is, while diminishing the colour of Cleopatra's cheeks, by cooling them, they reflected a new glow from the warmth of their own tints.
242. Nereides] Dyce (ed. ii) : Here in my first edition I altered * Nereides' to Nereids, — wrongly ; for formerly the word used to be written Nereides ; see, for instance, the article * Nereides' in Heywood's Various Historie conceminge Women, etc, p. 36, ed. 1624.
243. Mer-maides] Coleridge (p. 317) : I have the greatest difficulty in believ- ing that Shakespeare wrote the first ' mermaids.' He never, I think, would have so weakened by useless anticipation the fine image immediately following. The epithet 'seeming' becomes so extremely improper after the whole number had been posi- tively called ' so many mermaids.'
243, 244. So many Mer-maides tended her i'th'eyes. And made their bends adornings] Warburton : This is sense indeed, and may be understood thus, her
112 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc. ii.
[243, 244. tended her i'tb'eyes, And made their bends adomings] maids bowed with so good an air, that it added new graces to them. But this is not what Shakespeare would say ; Cleopatra^ in this famous scene, personated Vemus just rising from the waves ; at which time, the mythologists tell us, the Sea-deities sur- rounded the goddess to adore^ and pay her hofiiage. Agreeably to this fable Qeo- patra had dressed her maids, the poet tells us, like Nereids. To make the whole conformable to the story represented, we may be assured Shakspeare wrote : * And made their bends adoriftgs,^ They did her observance in the posture of adoraiicn^ as if she had been Venus. — Heath (p. 455) : I very much doubt whether such an affected flat expression as adorings came from Shakespeare. The word, bend^ is here used for aa arch, and the bends of the eyes are the eye-brows. Thus the sense will be. That these seeming nereids were employedin adjusting Cleopatra's ejre-brows, as often as they happened to be discomposed byUie fanning of tfie bojrs, or any other accident. This interpretation is confirmed by the preceding words, tended her in the eyes. — [The student is entreated not to condemn Heath utterly on account of this one aberration of mind ; he is usually eminently sane. — Ed.] — Capbll (i, 33) : That is, watch' d her looks, to receive commandments from them: in the receiving of which, the submiss inclination of body was performed with so much elegance, that their other personal beauties were much set out by it. This is the obvious meaning of < made their bends adomings.' — Johnson : Perhaps < tended her by th* eyes,' dis- covered her will by her eyes. — Steevens ( Var. 1773) : That Qeopatra personated Venus we know; but that Shakespeare was acquainted with the circumstance of homage being paid her by the Deities of the Sea [as stated by Warburton], is by no means as certain. — Tollet : I think < bends ' or bands is the same word, and means, in this place, the several companies of Nereids, that waited on Qeopatra. — [Although I have no idea at what age Toilet died, it is to be regretted that he did not live long enough to withdraw this conjecture. — Ed.] — Malons in the Var. of 1778 apprehended that 'their bends' refers to Cleopatra's eyes, and that <her attendants watched the motion of her eyes, the bends or movements of which added new lustre to her beauty.' But he withdrew this interpretation in his edition of 1790, and gave in his adhesion to Warburton' s adorings. And in the Var. of 1821, he conceded that * tended her i'the eyes ' * may only mean they performed their duty in the sight of their mistress.' — Steevens (Var, 1793): Perhaps * tended her i'the eyes ' may signify that the attendants on Cleopatra looked observantly into her eyes, to catch her meaning, without giving her the trouble of verbal explana- tion. After all, I believe it only means waited before her, in her sight. So, in Ham- lety IV, iv, 5 : « If that his majesty would aught of us. We shall express our duty in his eye,' f. e. in our personal attendance on him, by giving him ocular proof of our respect. Henley explains it thus : ' obeyed her looks without waiting for her words.' — MoNCK Mason : The passage, as it stands, appears to me wholly unin- telhgible ; but it may be amended by a very slight deviation from the text, by read- ing, theguisey instead of* the eyes,' and then it will run thus : * Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i* the guise^ And made their bends, adomings.' * In the guise,' means in the form of mermaids, who were suf^xMed to have the head and body of a beautiful woman, concluding in a fish's tail: and by the bends which they made adorningSy Enobarbus means the flexure of the fictitious fishes' tails, in which the limbs of the women were necessarily involved, in order to carry on the deception, and which it seems they adapted with so much art as to make them an ornament, instead of a deformity. This conjecture is supported by the very
Acrn, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 113
[245, 244. tended her i'th'eyes. And made their bends adomings] next sentence, where Enoborbus, proceeding in his description, says: *at the helm A <F^ffmmg mennsid steers/ — [This note of Mason with its harmless allusion to the
* flexure of the fictitious tails/ afforded Stkevens too good an opportunity to be loeL Accoidingly, after observing that Mason's conjecture, guise^ could not be thus naed absolutely, without a limiting noun, he turns to the mermaids, who, * whatCTer gnoe the tails of legitimate meimaids might boast of in their native element, must lurre produced but awkward effects when taken out of it, and exhibited on the deck of a gslley. ... I will undertake, in short, the expense of providing characteristic tnfls for any set of mimick Nereids, if my opponent will engage to teach them the exercise of these adscititious terminations, so as ** to render them a grace instead of a deformity." ... It may be added also, that the Sirens and descendants of Nereus, are nnderstood to have been complete and beautiful women, whose breed was vncrossed by the salmon or dolphin tribe.' Finally, with the malicious smile still on his face, Steevens proposed to amend the phrase < merely by the omission of a sii^e letter, and read ** made their ends adomings." ' Mason replied very temper- ately, like the Right Honourable gentleman that he was, in an Appendix to his Com- wments on Beaumont and Fletcher, maintaining his ground and concluding with the assertion that he could * find no sense in the passage as ' Steevens and Malone ' have printed it' The forgoing notes which I have condensed are 'so very long, as or^inally written,' that in the Variorum of 1821 Boswell transferred them ' to the end of the play ' ; there the student may read them at length ; but, as in all such controversies, he will find but a ha'porth of Shakespeare to an intolerable deal of the disputants. — Ed.] Z. Jackson, whose insufferable book was many years ago iMlhned from these psges, must now be heard, inasmuch as his contribution to the discussion happens to be of value. He believes (p. 293) that < bends ' is here used in a nautical sense (the ' bends * are, according to Admiral Smyth's Sailor's Word" Mook^ *the thickest and strongest planks on the outward part of the ship's side, between the plank-streaks on which men set their feet in climbing up ') ; the ' eyes ' also is nautical and means the *■ dead eyes ' (a dead-eye, also according to Admiral Smyth, is < a sort of round flattish wooden block, . . . pierced with three holes through the flat part, in order to receive a rope called a laniard, which, correspond- ing with three holes in another dead-eye on the shroud end, creates a purchase to extend the shrouds, etc' ) ; 'on the bends of Cleopatra's barge, therefore, stood her gendewomen, uncovered to the waist,' with an artificial mermaid's tail floating on the water. Thus Qeopatra's attendants, <as so many mermaids, tended her i'the eyes (for there they held by the rigging, connected with the eyes\ and made the bends (whereon they stood) adomings, i. e. they adorned the bends, which other- wise would have remained devoid of ornaments.' Accordingly, Jackson proposed to read : — ' And made the bends adomings.' [Jackson is undoubtedly the earliest to apply a nautical interpretation to 'bends' and 'eyes,' — an interpretation to which the most recent criticism seems to be drifting. Unfortunately Jackson restricted * eyes* to the 'dead eyes.'] — Knight: We hold to the 'adomings* of the original. — CoLLiXK: 'Tended her i'the eyes' seems to mean nothing else but tended in her sight: Mr Barron Field traly remarks, that in Mid. N, D., we have the expression
* gambol in his eyes,* for gambol in his sight ; * made their bends adomings ' is prob- ably to be understood, that they bowed with so much grace as to add to their beauty. — [2^hary Jackson believed, as we have seen, that * th' eyes' refers to 'dead eyes,' for the nautical use of which term there is good authority ; in the following note
8
114 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act u, sc. ii
[243, 244. tended her i'tb'eyes, And made their bends adomings] ' th'eyes ' is supposed to refer to the hawse-holes, — a use for which, in Shakespeare's time, authority is thus far lacking. The note is much condensed and paraphrased, as indeed all the notes on this vexed question are, of necessity.] — C. F. B. (/W- naw^s Maga., March, 1857) : In Webster's Diet, under the article * Eye' there will be found a phrase < the eyes of a ship,' with the definition that they are < the parts which lie near the hawse-holes.' [' The foremost part of the bows of a ship, where formerly eyes were painted; also the hawse holes.' — Webster, Diet, 1S91.] It is a phrase in common use, at present, among mariners, when speaking of the interior bows of a vessel. Bearing in mind the for^[oing definition, and also that 'tended' may be an abbreviation of attended^ I think we shall find no difficulty in reading the passage as it now stands. If we follow Enobarbus's sketch we shall find that the size and interior arrangements of the barge were such as to allow no other space for < her gentlewomen ' to occupy, and that they must be stationed in the bows. The pavilion was too small and the air too warm to admit any more than the * dimpled boys ' on each side of Cleopatra and they were endeavouring to keep its fair owner cool. There can be no space for the majority of the gentlewomen near the pavilion, while, stationed in the bows, or eyes of the barge, their various and ever-changing attitudes and movements (either while wait- ing on Qeopatra's commands or when gazing on the crowd that lined the shore) added to and improved the general effect of the scene, or < made their bends adom- ings.' -^Walker {^Crii. iii, 299) : Undoubtedly, adorings is the true reading. In the play of Dr. Dodypol [I, i, p. loi, ed. Bullen] the same erratum occurs, — 'And devout people would from farre repaire. Like Pilgrims, with their dutuous sacrifice. Adorning thee as Regent of their loves.' Undoubtedly, adoring; and so correct in Spenser, Virgil's Gnat^ — * Wherefore ye Sisters which the glorie bee Of the Pierian streames, fayre Naiades, Go too, and dauncing all in companie, Adome that God.' [11. 25-28, ed. Grosart] Original, v. 18, — * ite, sorores, Naldes, et celebrate deum plaudente chorea.' — Dyce (ed. ii), who cites, but does not quote, this note of Walker, pronounces adoring *a more than plausible emendation.' — R. G. White: < In the eye ' was a universally recognized idiom for in the presence, before the face, and was particularly used to express service before a superior. Thus, Cym- beline^ III, v, 142, 'first kill him, and in her eyes; there shall she see my valour.' — [White's text reads ' adomings,' but his note implies that he had adopted adorings. He asks, < is it not clear that we have here an instance of the super- fluous j final, and that "adoring" is not a substantive, but a participle?' In his Second Edition, 1883, he still follows the Folio, and pronounces the phrase, * incom- prehensible ; ' and adds, * no acceptable explanation or correction has been proposed.'] — Staunton : By adopting [Warburton's] likely substitution, and supposing tlie not improbable transposition of * eyes ' and * bends,' we may at least obtain a meaning : — * tended her in the bends. And made their eyes adorings.' It may count for some- thing, though not much, in favour of the transposition we assume, that in Pericles^ II, iv, we find,— 'That all those eyes adored him.'— John Hunter: That is. Attended on her with their eyes ; and by their gaze directed towards her formed ornamental appendages to the main figure. Compare Psalms, cxxiii, 2 : *As the eyes of a maiden look unto the hand of her mistress, so our eyes wait,' etc. — Schmidt (7>fl«j., note, p. 174) : In the only other passage in Shakespeare where *bcnd' occurs as a substantive, it refers, not to a bending or bowing, but to the eyes, * that same eye whose bend doth awe the world.'— y«/. Cas,, I, ii, 123. . . . 'Their* in
ACT II, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA \ 15
[243, 244. tended her i'th'eyes, And made their bends adomings] present passage refers to * eyes ' in the preceding line, and the literal translation : * sie erwiesen ihr in (oder mit) den Augen Huldigung, und machten deren (oder Ansdmck) zu einem Schmuck.* In his Lexicon (5, v, Adomings) Sdimidt paiaphrases the sentence thus : — * regarded her with such veneration as to zxflecrt beauty on her, to make her more beautiful, by their looks.' — C. M. Ingleby ^Sk. Hermeneutics^ etc 1875, p. 119, footnote) : We read, after Zachary Jackson, ^tke bends* adomings.' [Z. J. wrote bends without an apostrophe.] Both 'eyes' .^uid ' bends ' were parts of Cleopatra's barge. The eyes of a ship are the hawse- lx>les ; the bends are the wales, or thickest planks in the ship's sides. North has it : ^ others tending the tackle and ropes of the barge ; ' which settles the question as to she meaning of eyes ; and that once fixed, the other part of the interpretation is Inevitable. What could the hardy soldier, Enobarbus, care for the curves of the mermaid's bodies ? To us it is obvious that if the girls tended Geopatra at the eyes, they would there be the natural ornaments of the bends. — [Jackson held the ' eyes ' of the barge to be the ' dead-eyes,' for which he had authority in so far as < dead mens eyes ' is mentioned, tc^ether with *■ pullies, blockes, shiuers, caskets and crowes feete,' in Captain Smith's Accidence for yong Seamen^ 1626, p. 15 ; Ingleby changes these 'eyes' to the * hawse holes ' for which to be sure he has modem authority in Admiral Smyth's SaiJor's PTord-BooJk, 1867, s. v. Eyes of her^ but it is open to doubt that thik use was known in Shakespeare's time. I can find no trace of it in the N, E. D. Finally, how Ingleby's quotation from North < settles the question as to the meaning of eyes ' is, I fear to me, incomprehensible. — Ed.] — F. J. Furnivall (N, 6f* Qu. 1875, V, iv, 103) quotes North's words, 'others tending the tackle and ropes of the barge,' and then continues: — I think that Shakespeare's repetition of North's tend strengthens the position of those who urge that the eyes were the eyes of the barge, — the bows ; near the hawseholes or eyes, through which the anchor chains passed, — and not Geopatra's eyes ; while on the other hand, North's allusion to the Graces makes it certain that * their bends ' is the curves of the ladies' bodies, and not the bends or prominent streaks, — qy. including the gunwale, — of the boat, as has been suggested with the reading * the bend's.' ... To the meaning generally given to 'tended her i'the eyes,' 'attended to the movements of her eyes, watched her eyes for orders,' 1 do not take. — E. H. Pickersgill {N. 6r* Qu. 1875, V, iv, 365 ) : Plutarch speaks . of ' tending the tackle,' but, according to Shakespeare, the gentlewomen, who are first mentioned * tended her ' (Cleopatra) 1. e. were in waiting upon her. ... * Tended her i'the eyes' is equivalent (I take it) to tended her with their eyes, gave her (in a sense different from that in which the term is usually employed) eye-service. Com- pare Hamlet^ IV, iii, 4, * the distracted multitude. Who like not in their judgement, but their eyes,' — that is, like in their eyes. If one may be said to like in eyes, why not also tend in eyes? I presume that Mr Furnivall has found contemporary authority for the use of the word * eyes ' in the sense of the bows of a ship, although he has not produced any reference. — J. E. Smith (A^. 6r» Qti, 1890, Vll, x, 402) : The suggestion now made is that 'tended her i'the eyes' should be bended to the oars. This change would make clear the meaning, mend the measure [is it defec- tive?— Ed.], and complete the description. We now see the Nereides rowing, steering, and sailing the barge, instead of 'tending Cleopatra i'th'eyes,' an inscrut- able function not to be found in Plutarch. . . . Oars is spelt differently on each of the three occasions when it occurs in the Folio : * oares,' in Two Gent. II, iii ; 'ores,' Much Ado^ III, i ; and ' Owers * in line 229 of the present speech. Now if
Il6 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act ii, sc. iL
[243, 244. tended her i'th'eyes, And made their bends in the MS it were indistinct, or had been subjected to any other orthographical rari- ation, or spelt as in Much Ado^ what more likely than that the printen, at their wits' end, should set it up as < eyes ' ? Then * tended ' would be a very probable iwtjrf«lr^ for bended, — [This ingenious but extremely violent emendation deeply stirred the contributors to Notes and Queries, R. M. Spence (1890, VII, z, 483) termed the supposition that the female attendants rowed the heavy silver oais, * preposterous.' T. A. Trollope (1891, VII, zi, 82) came to the rescue, declaring that he considered the emendation 'peculiarly and strikingly happy,' and furthermore 'humbly sub- mitted ' that ' tended her i*the eyes ' is ' sheer nonsense.' In the same volume (p. 182) H. INGLEBY, Br. Nicholson, and R. M. Spence, all horrorstruck at the stigma of < sheer nonsense,' pleaded for the original text, with here and there a withering sneer at the proposed emendation. On p. 363, Trollope replied in a long com- munication (adhering inflexibly to his original opinion), written so brilliantly through- out and with such good-humoured benignity that his opponents must have been glad, I should think, that they had been the means of eliciting it Of course their own opinions were not a whit changed by it. He who can acknowledge that he is convicted of an error is unfit to enter into a discussion ; e'en though vanquished he must argue still. And so, in vol. xii (of the same Series), p. 62, H. Ingleby rejoined ; J. E. Smith, the fans et origo of the discussion, unrepentant, reinforced his original position ; G. Joicey asked whether the line would not have run either ' tended in her eyes,' or * tended her z&t* their eyes,' if Titania's * gambol in his eyes' is to be taken as a parallel phrase (as had been alleged by Spence and earlier by Barron Field) ; and C. C. B. suggested ^tended an her eyes.* On p. 202 (of the same volume), we have Trollope again master of fence and, apparently, of the situ- ation ; and Br. Nicholson and Spence, and W. F. Prideaux joins in. Finally, on p. 261, Trollope * feels obliged to write yet a few words (my last on this sub- ject) ;' G. Joicey suggests 'tend her in her eyes And mahe their bends adom- ings; ' H. Ingleby suggests that < bends ' ' may be the equivalent in nautical phrase- ology, to hnots ; ' C. £. Seaman asks whether there might not lie in this descrip- tion some allusion to the heightened efiect of Cleopatra's eyes by the use of stibium or antimony. * By this the eyes' bends (f. e, either the curves of the eyelids, or every motion to which her eyes were **bent") had been made adomings.' The Editor of Nates and Queries here threw down his warder with the remark that ' he ventured to think this passage has received a full share of attention,' whereto I think every one will agree. The discussion had lasted from the 22nd of November, 1890 to the 3rd of October, 1891 and I think every one of the disputants would have been supposed upon a book that he ended precisely where he began. During its course, however, but not in connection with it, W. W. Lloyd (Ibid. VII, xii, 4) pro- posed the emendation "tended her i'the eyes, And marked their bends, adoring.' The discussion had a brief recrudescence in 1902, when N. H. Prenter (IX, ix, 222) revived the idea that the 'eyes' were the hawseholes, the 'bends' were the sailors' inots^ etc. On p. 342 of the same volume, J. Marshall argued that the * eyes ' were sailors' loops, etc. In the meantime, while this discussion was going on, Deighton gave his paraphrase of the original text : — < the mermaids waited upon her, ever observant of her wishes as shown by her looks, and lent fresh beauty to the picture by the grace with which they paid their homage.' H.LiTTLEDALE,in his admirable edition of Dyce's Glossary, gives, as a definition of * bends' in the present passage, ' glances ; their eyes turned towards her, and by their bright glances
ACT II, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 117
A feeming Mer-maide fteeres / The Silken Tackle, 245
Swell with the touches of thofe Flower-foft hands,
That yarely frame the office.From the Barge
A ilrange inuifible perfume hits the fenfe 248
245. Tatkle\ Tackles Yi^ Rowe,+, 247. yVajn^] j^n/^ Gould.
Vftrr. Ran. the office'\ their office Ktly conj.
246. SwelTl Smeil Coll. ii, iii. nuve 248. inuifibW] invasibie or invasive Goald. Senfd Kinnear. Gould.
247. yarely\ yearly F^F^, Rowe ii.
adorned her.' The latest voice to b« heard on the question, and one worthy of all re- spect, is that of RoLFE, who says, * The part of North's account which corresponds to ** made their bends adomings " seems to be the statement that the gentlewomen were apparelled " like the Graces," and this must suggest a reference to grace in their moTements. I believe that in all that has been written on the passage, no one has called attention to the very close paraphrase of North which Shakespeare gives: *' Her ladies and gentlezuomett . . . were apparelled Hie the nymphs Nereids (which are the mermaids of the waters) and'' — after getting so far we have only to seek a parallel for ** like the Graces ; " and may we not find it in '* made their bends adomings? " — made their very obeisance, as they tended her^ like that of ibe Graces waiting on Venus.' I doubt that there is any corruption in this passage. A para- phrase by Rann has been reserved as a final word. To me it adequately expresses the meaning of the whole phrase : — ' Her gentlewomen took their orders from the motion of Jiier eyes, which gave her the happy opportunity of adding, by her looks, new lustre to her beauty ; and made their obeisance with the utmost imaginable grace.' — Ed.]
246. Swell with the touches, etc.] Collier (ed. ii) adopts the change, smelly of his MS. In a note he asks, * how was " the silken tackle " to " stueir* t The «« flower-soft hands " imparted a perfume to " the silken tackle," and we are told just afterwards that the " smell " reached even «* the adjacent wharfs." '— R. G. White [^Sh:s Scholar^ p. 450) : If Mr Collier must be literal, does he not know that cordage will swell with handling ?—Dyce (Strictures, etc. p. 204) : Mr Collier ought certainly to have accounted for so remarkable a circumstance [as set forth in preceding note] on physical grounds, and also to have shown (what may be doubted) that, in Shake- speare's days, the verb 'smell ' was ever followed by the preposition zwM.— Thisel- TOM (p. 13) : The yielding softness of their hands gives rise to the illusion that the alken tackle swells.— [There is to me something peculiarly disagreeable in the emendation of Collier's MS; the idea that any smell results from a human touch is offensive, and wain-ropes cannot hale me to the belief that smell is Shakespeare's word. I do not forget « Since when it grows and smells, I swear. Not of itself but thee,' and I also do not forget that the rosy wreath was perfumed because * Thou thereon didst only breathe,'— a very diflFercnt thing from smelling because it had been handled. It is my firm belief that the silken tackle actually swelled with sheer delight at having been clasped by those flower-soft hands.— Ed.]
246. Flower-soft] Compare « marble-constant ' V, ii, 291 ; and for many another similar compound see Abbott, § 430.
247. yarely frame the office] Steevens : That is, readily and dexterously per- fcnn the task they undertake.— [See Tempest, I, i, 4, and elsewhere in that play.]
Il8 THE TRACED IE OF [act u, sc. ii.
Of the adiacent Wharfes. The Citty caft
Her people out vpon her : and Anthony 250
Enthroned i'th'Market-place, did fit alone,
Whifling to'th'ayre : which but for vacanciei
Had gone to gaze on Cleopater too,
And made a gap in Nature.
Agri. Rare Egiptian. 255
Eno. Vpon her landing, Anthony fent to her, Inuited her to Supper : fhe replyed, It fhould be better, he became her gueft: Which fhe entreated, our Courteous Anthony^ . 259
251. f *M*] Ff, Rowe, + , Wh. in the cet.
Stccv. Varr. Sing. Ktly. Vthe Cap. et 253. Gcopater] F^.
ceL 259. entreated^] entreated, Rowe.
252. tdth'^ F,. to th* FjF^, Rowe, our] Om. Pope, Han. + , Dyce ii, iii, Wh. to the Cap. ct
249. Wharfes] Schmidt (Lex.) : The banks of a river ; as in Hamlet, I, t, 33 : <the fat weed that rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf.' — W. W. Skeat (Academy, 6 April, 1878) : The root of * wharf' is the same as that which appears in Anglo-Saxon hweorfan, to turn, so that wharf is rightly spelt with initial wh. But the word wharf, in the sense of bank or sea-shore, is misspelt. It should rather be warf and eren then it is a corruption — viz. of the Middle English warth. The derivation is from a Teutonic base wara, meaning ' sea.' Hence was formed Anglo-Saxon wteroth or warth, meaning « sea-shore,* or * shore,' *bank.'
254. And made a gap in Nature] Warburton : Alluding to an axiom in the peripatetic philosophy, then in vogue, that 'Nature abhors a vacuum.' — M alone: * But for vacancy ' means for fear of a vacuum. — Corson {Introd. etc. p. 265) : What is chiefly remarkable, are the additions which Shakespeare makes to his prose original ; his imagination projects itself into inanimate things and impassions them. For ex- ample, the winds are represented as lovesick with the perfumes from the sails ; the water beat by silver oars, follows faster, as if amorous of their strokes ; the silken tackle swell with the touches of the flower-soft hands that tend them ; the very air of the city, whose inhabitants had all gone out tP gaze on Cleopatra, is represented as eager to go and gaze upon her too, but that it feared to make a gap in nature ! In such a highly-colored and richly-sensuous passage, the great artist creates the atmos- phere in which the passion-fated pair are exhibited.
257. Supper] ♦ With vs the nobilitie, gentrie, and students, doo ordinarilie go to dinner at eleuen before noone, and to supper at fiue, or betueene fine and six at aftemoone. The merchants dine and sup seldome before twelue at noone, and six at night especialie in London. ... As for the poorest sort they generallie dine and sup when they may.' — Harrison, Description of England, etc. 1587; prefixed to Holinshed's Chronicles, Bk. II, cap. vi. p. 171 (p. 166, New Sh, Sac. Reprint).
258. It should be better] For this use of < should,' see Abbott, { 326.
J%.CT II, sc. iL] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 119
A?Vliom nere the word of no woman hard fpeake, 260
Seing barber'd ten times o're, goes to the Feaft ;
-And for his ordinary, paies his heart,
Tor what his eyes eate onely. Agri. Royall Wench :
She made great Ccefar lay his Sword to bed, 265
He ploughed her, and fhe cropt.
Eno. I faw her once Hop forty Paces through the publicke ftreete, JVnd hauing loft her breath, ftie fpoke, and panted. That fhe did make defefl:,perfe£lion, 270
And breathleffe powre breath forth.
260. ofno\ o/no, Rowe. of No Pope. Theob. et seq.
^No Theob. etseq. (subs.) — /i^Cap. 271. breathleffe powre"] breathless ^
conj. power Han. Cap. et seq.
hard] heard Ff. breath] breathe F^F^, Pope et
7.(&, Jlreete,] street » Rowe. street; seq.
260. woman hard speake] < Hard ' is here probably a phonetic spelling of the compositors. Possibly this pronunciation of heard may still exist in New England. It was common enough fifty years ago. — Ed.
262. ordinary] Nares : A public dinner, where each person pays his share. The word, in this sense, is certainly not obsolete; but it is here [i. e. in Nares' s own Glossary] inserted for the sake of observing that ordinaries were long the universal resort of gentlemen, particularly in the reign of James I. They were, as a modem writer well observes, ' The lounging-places of the men of the town and the fantastic gallants who herded together. Ordinaries were the exchange for news, the echoing places for all sorts of town-talk ; there they might hear of the last new play and poem ; these resorts were attended also to save charges of housekeeping.' — Curiosities of Literature, iii, 82. In 1608, a common price for a genteel ordinary was two shillings.
264. Wench] This is by no means always a derogatory term. In the most tragic moment of his life Othello calls his dead Desdemona ' O ill-starr'd wench ! ' —Ed.
271. And breathlesse powre breath forth] Capell (i, 33): 'Power* is — power of charming ; this, says Enobarbus, Cleopatra breath'd forth even by being breathless ; making (as he express'd it before) defects perfections, by the grace that went along with her panting. — Daniel (p. 80) : The Third and Fourth Folio, for 'breath' have breathe, and on their authority (?) the line has always, I believe, been given thus, — ' And, breathless, power breathe forth.' If we modernise the spelling, I think we should read, what I believe to be the sense of the First Folio, — * And, breathless, pour breath forth.* * Powre,* of the First Folio is the form in which the verb pour is frequently there printed ; as, indeed, to the present day it is still fre- quently pronounced. — Staunton {Athenaum, 12 April, 1873) : Long before I read Daniel's happy conjecture, the true lection occurred to me on copying the passage from the history where this not very feminine exploit is narrated. There we are
I20 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii. sc. n.
Mece. Now Anthony^ muft leaue her vtterly. 272
Eno. Neuer he will not / Age cannot wither her, nor cuftome ftale
Her infinite variety : other women cloy 275
The appetites they feede, but fhe makes hungry, Where mod (he fatisfies. For vildeft things Become themfelues in her, that the holy Priefts Bleffe her, when (he is Riggi(h.
Mece If Beauty, Wifedome, Modefty,can fett le 280
The heart oi Anthony lOilauia is A bleffed Lottery to him. 282
272. muft ..,vtterly\ ScfMurate line, r^T . vild€ft'\ viUft Y ^, wUdest^XxoBL- Han. Cap. hof.
273. Neuer\ Never, F,F^. Never; 278. A^r,] Ff, Rowe, + , Coll. Wh. i. Cap. et seq. Cam. Hal. Sta. Ktly. her; Cap. et
274. ftaie^fteale F,. ftcal F^F^, Rowe. cet.
275. IIer,..women'] One line, Steev. 281. Anthony .* 0<fbiaia] Antcny^Oc- Var. '03, '13. tavia Rowe et seq.
276. Tkeappetiies\ th* appetites Steev. Oaauia w] OcUvia'x F^F^. Var. *03, '13. 282. bleffed Lottery] blesi eUiott^ry
appetiUs\ appities F,. Theob. Han. Warb. Cap.
told that the all-conqnering, unconquerable Queen, after hopping till breath gone, to show the contrary, began to sing. It was evident to me at once that 'pour breath forth ' was only a poetical way of saying that she sang ; breath being some- timet used of old to signify song. [Daniel's felicitous interpretation, enforced by Staunton's illustration, is, it seems to me, indisputable. — Ed.]
373. Neuer he will not :] Dyce (ed. ii) : The Folio has no point after < Nerer ; * but this does not read like a passage where the author meant to use the double negative.
a74, 275. Age cmnnot wither her, nor custome stale Her infinite variety] Stkbvens : Such is the praise bestowed by Shakspeare on his heroine ; a praise that well deserves the consideration of our female readers. Qeopatra, as appears froin the telrmdrachms of Antony, was no Venus ; and indeed the majority of ladies who most successfully enslaved the hearts of princes, are known to hare been less remark- able for personal than mental attractions. The reign of insipid beauty is sddom lasting ; but permanent must be the rule of a woman who can divcnify the sameness of life by an inezhanated variety of acoomplishments. To * stale * is a Terb employed by Heywood, in The Irm Age, 1632 : *One that hadi stoTd his courtly tricks at
179^ RIgfisli] Naeis : Having the indinatioDs of a bad woman. Hence, wan-
aSi. A biMMd Lolttfy to htm] Wahburton : Methinks, it is a very indifferent liifiliMiHt m Mccsnas to call Octavia a * lottery,* as if she might turn up blanh, as vdl M prove a /*w to Antony, The poet wrote, as I have reformed the tezt, flwte bcif a» widi difaence between *k(teiy' and c/Znttrp^, as betweea
ACT II. sc. iii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA \ 2 1
Agrip. Let vs go. Good Enobarbtis^ make your felfe 283 my gueft, whilft you abide heere.
Eno. Humbly Sir I thanke you. Exeunt 285
\Scene III.\
Enter Anthony, Cafar, Oilauia betweene them.
Anth. The world, and my great office, will Sometimes deuide me from your bofome.
Oila. All which time, before the Gods my knee (hall bowe my ptayers to them for you. S
Anth. Goodnight Sir. My OSlauia Read not my blemifhes in the worlds report : I haue not kept my fquare, but that to come Shall all be done byth'Rule : good night deere Lady : Good night Sir. 10
283, 2S4. Good.,.gueft'\ Separate line, 4, 5. AlL„you\ Lines end. time.,,
Rowe et seq. prayers,,, you Rowe et seq.
Scene III. Cap. et seq. 5. my ptayers'^ F,. in prayers Rowe,
The Same. A Room in Caesar's House. +, Cap. Varr. Ran.
Cap. 9. byth'^ Ff, Rowe, + , Wh. i. by the
1-48. Om. Gar. Kemble. Cap. et cet.
I. Enter...] Enter... Attendants be- 10. Goodnight Sir'\YUlli9X,Wtii.* 21^
hind, and Soothsayer. Cap. Coll. i, Dyce i, Wh. Glo. Cam. Hal.
2,3. Tke^.SomeiimesI One line, Rowe Ktlj. Octa. Good night Sir. F^. Octa.
et seq. Good nighty Sir F^F^, Rowe et cet.
a present designation and a future chance. — [Again, the influence of Warburton on Capell is noteworthy (see Text, Notes), Fortunately this influence ceased with Capell.]
Scene III.] In all editions down to Capell's, the Scene is continued. Capell first made Scene IH. begin here ; he also added the * Soothsayer * to the list of those who enter, and there the * Soothsayer ' remained until Collier restored him to the time of entrance which he has in the Folio.
4, 5. my knee shall bowe my ptayers] Collier (ed. ii) : ' Bow with prayers ' in the MS ; but if any change were desirable, it would rather be, < my prayers shall bow my knee.' — [Whereby I fear all expression of that love which prompts first the silent kneeling, and then the supplication of prayer, is lost — Ed.]
8, 9. kept my square, . . . done byth'Rule] Is there no enthusiastic Free Mason at hand to claim Shakespeare as a member of that fraternity ? Or is this lesser grade included in the higher Rosicnician brotherhood, to which Gen. Hitchcock main- tains that the Sonnets prove Shakespeare to have belonged ? — Ed.
la Good night Sir] Malone : These last words, which in the [First Folio"] are giTen to Antony, the modem editors [see Text, Notes] have assigned to Octavia. I see no need of change. He addresses himself to Caesar, who immediately replies,
122
THE TRACE DIE OF
[act II, sc. iii. .
Cce/ar. Goodnight Exit, ii
Enter Soothfaier. Anth, Now firrah : you do wifli your felfe in Egypt ? Sooth. Would I had neuer come from thence^ nor you thither. IS
Ant. If you can, your reafon ? Sooth.1 fee it in my motion :haue it not in my tongue, 17
11. Goodn%ght'\ Good night Y^. Good- -night Pope.
Exit.] Exeunt Caesar and Octavia. Rowe.
[Scene IV. Pope, + .
12. Enter...] Om. Cap. Varr. Mai. Ran. Steev. Varr. Knt.
13. you do'] do you F^F^, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
14. Would... you\ As verse, Cap. Varr. Mai. Ran. Steev. Varr. Sing. Dyce i,
Glo. KUy.
14. nor\ or Han.
15. thither] Come thither ! KAj. 17-19. I.. .me] Prose, Pope, + . Lines
end, in. ..yet, ..me Cap. Varr. Mai. Ran. Steev. Varr. Sing. Dyce i, Glo.
17. I fee it] Iseet Steev. Var. '03,* 13. motion: ...tongue] Yi^ Rowe. notion f .., tongue ; Theob. Han. Ktly. motion^ ... tongue ; Pope et cet.
•Good night.' — Ritson (Curs. Crit. 85) : The first of these 'modern editors* hap- pens to be [Malone's] old friend the editor of the Second Folio (which he pretends to have collated with so much care), who appears, from this and numberless other instances, to have had a copy of the First Folio corrected by the players who pub- lished it, or some other well-informed person. That Mr Malone sees * no need of change' is the strongest possible reason for believing that a change is absolutely necessary. And so it certainly is : Antony has already said * Good-night, sir ' to Cxsar in the three first words of his speech : the repetition would be absurd. — [The reading of the Second Folio is probably right, and certainly plausible. Dyce (ed. i) pronounced * the repetition natural enough,' — ^an assertion which he did not repeat in his ed. ii, but quoted only Ritson. — Ed.]
12. Soothsaier] See the first note in this Scene. — Knight (Supp, Notice, p. 356) : Shakesp>eare has most skilfully introduced the Soothsayer, at the moment when Antony's moral weakness appears to have put on some show of strength. He found the incident in Plutarch ; but he has made his own application of it.
14, 15. nor you thither] M. Mason : Both the sense and grammar require that we should read hither, instead of * thither.* The Soothsayer advises Antony to hie back to Egypt, and for the same reason wishes he had never come to Rome ; because when they were together, Caesar's genius had the ascendant over his. — [Hudson adopted this change. The Soothsayer means, ' would I bad never left Egypt nor you gone thither.' It is merely a confusion of two constructions. He says after- ward, * But yet hie you again to Egypt,' which seems to refer to this * thither.' — Ed.]
17. I see it in my motion] Theobald: I can trace no sense in this word, 'motion,' here, unless the author were alluding to that agitation of the Divinity, which diviners pretend to when the fit of foretelling is upon them ; but then I think verily, he would have wrote emotion. I am persuaded, Shakespeare meant that the Soothsayer should say, he saw a reason in his thought or opinion ; tho' he gave that thought or opinion no utterance. And notion is a word which our author frequently
ACT II, sc. iii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 123
ut yet hie you to Egypt againe. 18
Aniho. Say to me, whofe Fortunes Ihall rife higher
C€e:/ars or mine ? 20
Soot. Ci2r/2jr/'j.Therefore(oh Ant/tori/jfiay not by his fide
Thy Daemon that thy fpirit which keepes thee, is
INoble, Couragious, high vnmatchable,
^W^here Cafars is not. But neere him, thy Angell 24
18. to Egypt againe\ again to Egypt Johns, et seq.
Oip. VaiT. Stecv. Varr. Dyce i. 21. fede\ side, Rowe. side : Cap.
19. Say to me"] Separate line, Dyceii. 22. Damon] demon Dyce.
Say to me, whofe] Separate line, that... thee j] Johns. Var. '73, Knt,
Xtly. Coll. Wh. Cam. Hal. Sta. KUy. {that's
Fortunes] Fortune F^, Rowe, ...thee) Ff. that shy... thee, Bulloch.
Pbpe, Theob. Han. Warb. that's... thee, Rowe, Glo. et cet.
21. Oelars] Separate line, Han. 23. ^if ^] ^i]f^, F^F^ et seq.
chooses, to express the mental faculties. — Warburton condensed the first portion of the foregoing note into ' the divinatory agitation,' and as he made no acknowl- ^Igement to Theobald, has received whatever credit has accrued. Dyce (ed. ii) accepted the phrase and ascribed it to Warburton. — Capell (i, 34) : There is no occasion for supposing — that * motion ' implies here ' the divinatory agitation ; ' nor — that it is put by mistake for another word ' notion/ It means — a something mov- ittg within me ; that unknown something which others also feel at some junctures, who are not soothsayers: 'in,' or by, this inward 'motion,' the speaker saw the 'reason, that Antony call'd for, but could not give it expression. — Schmidt (Lex.) defines the phrase as equivalent to ' intuitively.' [In his capacity as seer he ' sees ' (thus purposely used, I think), the reason in his mental perturbation, but cannot put it into words. — Ed.]
22. Thy Daemon, etc.] It verily looks as though the editor of the Second Folio had here consulted North, where the corresponding passage runs thus : *** For thy demon,*' said he (that is to say the good angel and spirit that keepeth thee), " is afnid of his " ' etc. The Second Folio deserts the First Folio to an unwonted degree, and adopts the parenthesis of North. This same predominance of Caesar's demon over Anthony is spoken of by Macbeth : — 'under [Banquo] My Genius is rebuk'd, as it is said, Mark Anthonies was by Caesar.' — III, i, 67 (of the Reinsed Edition of the present series), where the Editor has added a note by Prof. Baynes, who says, ' In Shakespeare, the terms angel and genius [and here, demon] are usually em< {doyed to denote the higher nature of man, the rational guiding soul or spirit, which in connection with the mortal instruments determines his character and fate.' — Ed.
22, 32. spirit] As to pronunciation, see I, ii, 143.
23. high vnmatchahle] Every edition, I think, since the Third Folio has placed a comma after ' high.' Should there be one ? I think there should be a hyphen. ' High-unmatchable ' is a compound adjective, like ' pardon me, I am too sudden- bold ' in Lffv^s Lab. Lost, and ' Fools should be so deep-contemplative/ in As You Like It. In the propriety of this hyphen I have the support of an Anonymous con- jecture recorded in the Cambridge Edition. — Ed.
124 ^^^ TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc. iii.
Becomes a feare : as being o're-powr'd, therefore ^5
Make fpace enough betweene you.
Antlu Speake this no more.
Sooth. To none but thee no more but : when to thee^ If thou doft play with him at any game, Thou art fure to loofe : And of that Naturall lucke, 30
25. Becomes. ,.oWe'Powr'd'\OTit\\ii!t^ 26. Make'\ Make thou 1^9^,
Han. s8. thee ...more but: when to thte^
a feare r^ F,. a fear : F^F^, Rowe, thee...more^ but when to thee^ Yl. tkee^
Pope, + . afeard^ Upton, Sing. Coll. ii, ...m^rr, ^/.../^r, Rowe, Pope, thee;..,
Ktly. a fear ^ Cap. et cet. more^ but. ..thee. Theob. et scq. (subs.)
o're-powr'dt'\o're-p(ntn'd,andYU 30. Thou art^ 7)&Mi*ff Pope, + , Wh.
Rowe, Pope, Tbeob. Warb. overpower' d; i, Dyce ii, iii.
And Han. overpowered^ Johns, o'er- loofe"] iofe F F^.
power* d; and Cap. overpowered; Var. And'\ h^s Han. '73 et cet.
24, 25. thy AngeU Becomes a feare] For * a feare' Upton (p. 192) suggested afeard, and was severely criticised for it by Seward in his Preface to Beaumont and Fletcher's Works (p. Ixiv), < A Fear becomes' says Seward, *not only fearful but ev'n Fear itself. The image is extremely poetical . . . God himself personizes Fear; in Ezekiel, xxx, 13, He says '* I will put a Fear in the land of Egypt" . . . But the instance most apposite is in 77ie Maids Tragedy^ where the forlorn Aspatia sees her servant working the story of Theseus and Ariadne, and thus advises her to punish the perfidy of the former : — " In this place work a quick-sand . . . and then a Fear, Do that Fear bravely." ' Thirlby, in a letter to Theobald dated May, 1729 (Nichols Illust. ii, 228), anticipated Upton, whose conjecture appeared 6rst in print, I believe, and therefore has the prior claim. Heath upholds Upton and in the Soothsayer's next sp>eech : * I say again, thy spirit Is all afraid to govern thee near him,' he says, ' the reader will be pleased to observe the words, / say again* — Capell (i» 34) : 'A fear' has been chang'd into — afeard^ a word that stands con- demn'd by the sound ; for whoso likes it, or can even endure it, so near in place to ' o'er-power'd,' his ear is to be pity'd : But why is < fear' to be parted with ; mean- ing only, in language of poetry, — a thing frighted or terrify'd. — Walkkr (Crit. iii, 299) : What does this mean ? I suspect that Shakespeare wrote afear. ... I shookl prefer afeard^ the final d and e being often confounded with one another ; but I can- not away with afeard — d erpower* d. — R. G. White considers Upton's conjectore ' plausible ; ' and Staunton observes that * the personification of fear renders the passage more poetical ; but it may be questioned, considering the old text has "a feare" whether Upton's emendation is not the true reading.' [I prefer to retain the text of the Ff with Capell's interpretation of it, in spite of Heath's strong point in the * I say again ' in line 32. — Ed.]
25. therefore] Walker ( Vers. 112) gives this as an instance where the stronger accent is on the last syllable.
30. And of that Naturall lucke] That is, in consequence of that natural luck. For other examples where * of ' is used with a causal signification, see Franz, § 365, Anmerkung I ; or Abbott, § 168. The difference between of and from in Shake- speare's time was so very slight that occasionally it is almost impossible to catch the
ACT II. sc. iu.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 125
He beats thee ' gainfl the oddes. Thy Lufter thickens^ 31
When he (hines by : I fay againe, thy fpirit Is all afTraid to goueme thee neere him : But he alway 'tis Noble.
Anth. Get thee gone : 35
Say to Ventigius I would fpeake with him. Exit
He (hall to Parthia, be it Art or hap, He hath fpoken true. The very Dice obey him, And in our fports my better cunning faints, Vnder his chance, if we draw lots he fpeeds, 40
His Cocks do winne the Battaile, flill of mine,
31. Lufter\ lustre Rowe. 38. /poken\ /poke Pope, +.
thickens] sickens Gould. ' 39, 40. faints ^ ... chance^'] faints^ ...
34. ahoay '/^] alway is Yi^ Rowe. chance ; Rowe. faints. ..chance; Pope
mufay, *tis Pope et seq. et seq.
36, 45. Ventigius] Ventidius Ff. 40. lots he fpeeds^ lots, he fpeeds, Ff,
37. Parthia^ Parthia; Pope. Par- Rowe. lots, he speeds ; Pope et seq. tkia. Han. Johns, et seq.
sabtle meaning that divides them ; in the final resort this meaning must depend on the Terb. In the present phrase, for instance, we could here substitute from for 'of' without at all modifying the meaning, until we come to the verb, 'beats/ and then we perceiTe that ' he beats thee from that natural luck ' conveys a different mean- ing iiom ' he beats thee of that natural luck ; ' as when Hermione says ( Wint. Tale, I, iiy 42), 'say this to him, He's beat from his best ward.* These prepositions are not, therefore, here at least, interchangeable, however much they may seem so at first sight Nevertheless there are cases where it does seem perfectly immaterial which one is used. Take, *His cocks do win the battle still of mine (line 41, below). Would it not run equally well if the phrase were still from mine ? Prospero uses • from • after the verb « to win/ where he says ( Temp. I, ii, 455), • hast put thyself Upon this island as a spy, to win it From me.' This coalescence of these two prepo- sitions has incited the granmiarians to find some rule which may be a guide to their use. Abbott ({ 166) says that * of * is used for from with verbs that signify, either literally or metaphorically, depriving, delivering, etc' Franz (§ 356) is more specific, and enumerates a considerable number of verbs where one or the other may be used, such as, discharge, deliver, rid (to free and to release, on the other hand, are used in Shakespeare only with from), cleanse, clear, purge, wash, have, get, receive, take, borrow, win, wrest, be, descend, come, moreover, after the adjectives free, clear ^ secure, * If,* continues Franz, • after these verbs, of and from occasion- ally occur when they do not seem to be absolutely the same, and it may be desirable to decide upon the difference between them, then there seems to be no principle to be discerned in their use.' See, also, *he frets That Lepidus of the Triumpherate should be deposed/ IH, vi, 30, * Get gole for gole of youth,' IV, viii, 29. — Ed.
41. Cocks] A good account of the training of cocks for fighting is given by Hart- ING (p. 172) who says the sport ' was much in vogue in Shakespeare's day.' A short historical account of the game is to be found in Kelljr's Notices of Z^ester, p. 162.
41. of mine] See note on ' of ' in line 30 above.
126 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc iii.
When it is all to naught : and his Quailes euer 42
Beate mine(in hoopt ) at odd's. I will to Egypte:
42. naugM"] ¥(, Rowe, Dyce, Wh. i. a/ odds Pope, Theob. Warb. Johns, m-
naught Pope et cet -^oof d at odds Han. in whoo^ d-at odds
42, 43. Quailes „,hoopty\ quails in- Seward, Cap. inhoofd^ at odds Rowe hooped Ever beat mine Words. et cet.
43. {in hoopt) at odd' s^Yi. in-hoofd
43. Beate mine (in hoopt) at odd's] Seward (p. Ixt) : Here is evidently a sad anti-climax. His cocks win the battle of mine when it is all to nought on my side, and his quails, fighting in a hoop^ beat mine when the odds are on my side. What a falling off is there 1 . . . To whoop or hollow, might have been spelt hoop^ without the w ; \ read therefore : ' Beat mine in whoop' d-at odds.' i. e. when the odds are so great, that the betters on my side shout and whoop for victory. All who have been in a Cock-pit will have a clear idea of this : Flatness and Anti-climax will be avoided, and the soaring spirit of Shakespeare will recover its own vigour. — [Seward's reason- ing proved too cogent for Capell, who adopted both it and his emendation.] — Heath (p. 457) : I shall only observe, that the phrase, as I apprehend, is, to beat at odds, not to beat in odds ; and that the meaning of the common reading is. Beat mine even when put into the cage, unequally matched, with the odds very much in my favour. — Johnson: 'Inhoop'd* is inclosed, confined, that they may fight. The modem editions read, ' Beat mine in whoopPd at odds.' — [The Cambridge Editors quote this note of Johnson and remark : ' No edition we know of reads thus. In Steevens and all subsequent editions Johnson's note is repeated, '*whoop'd at" being hyphened.*] — Farmer : Shakesf>eare gives us the practice of his own time ; and there is no occasion for in whoofd-at^ or any other alteration. John Davies begins ' one of his Epigrams Vpon English Proutrbes : — * He sets cocke on the hoope, in, you would say ; For cocking in hoopes is now all the play.' [ — No. 287, ed. Grosart, where it is not punctuated as intelligently as Farmer gives it. — Ed.] — Douce (ii, 87) : It may be doubted whether quail-fighting was practised in Shakspeare's time ; but when our poet speaks of their being inhoofdy he might suppose that Caesar's or Antony's quails, which he found in Plutarch, were trained to battle like game cocks in a ring or circle. Quail combats were well known among the ancients, and espe- cially at Athens. Julius Pollux relates that a circle was made in which the birds were placed, and he whose quail was driven out of this circle lost the stake, which was sometimes money, and occasionally the quails themselves. [Douce gives an engraving from a Chinese miniature which] represents some ladies engaged at this amusement, where the quails are actually inhoop'd. — Nares (j. v. Inhoop^d) : The substance of this passage is from North's Plutarch, but the * inhoop'd ' is the addition of our poet. No trace of such a mode of fighting has been found except in Davies's Epigram J quoted by Fanner. Yet R. Holmes, who gives a list of terms and customs used in cock-fighting, has no mention of hoops. See his Acad, of Armory^ B. ii, ch. II. Nor is any trace of the hoops to be found in any book on cock-fighting. If this custom of fighting cocks within hoops could be thoroughly proved, it would also afford the best explanation of the phrase cock-a-hoop ; the cock perching on the hoop, in an exulting manner, either before or after the battle. — [The N. E. D.^ * in expla- nation of cock-a-hoopy says that it is ' a phrase of doubtful origin ; the history of which has been further obscured by subsequent attempts, explicit or implicit, to analyse it.']
ACT II, sc. iv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
127
,And though I make this marriage for my peace, I'th'Eaft my pleafure lies. Oh come Ventigius,
Enter Ventigius, Tf ou mufl to Parthia, your CommifTions ready : Tollow me^and reciue't. Exeunt
{Scene IK]
Enter LepiduSj Mecenas and Agrippa.
Lepidus. Trouble your felues no further : pray you haflen your Generals after.
Agr. SiTjMarke AntAonyywill e'ne but kiffe OSlauia^ and weele follow.
Lepu Till I (hall fee you in your Souldiers dreffe, Which will become you both : Farewell.
Mece. We (hall : as I conceiue the ioumey, be at Mount before you Lepidus.
Lepi. Your way is (horter, my purpofes do draw me much about, you'le win two dayes vpon me.
45
5
10
44. And'\ For Cap. conj. ^ 47. Commiffions^ Commiffion* s F^F^.
48. reciut^t] Ff, Rowe, -!- ,Cap. Dycc, Glo. Cam. receive it Var. * 73 et cet.
Scene IV. Cap. The Same. A Street. Cap.
I-13. Om. Gar.
1. Lepidus] Lepidus, attended. Cap. 2,3. 7V^i/3/f...^/j^«f] One line, Rowe
etseq.
2. your felues] your f elf e Ff, Rowe. further] Steev. Varr. Knt, Sing.
Dyce, Glo. Cam. Sta. Ktly. farther Ff et cet
4. Anthony,] Anthony Ff et seq.
4, 5. will ...follow] One line, Theob.
et seq.
7. both :] bothf Rowe et seq.
8, 9. ^...Lepidus] Lines end, be... Lepidus Rowe. shall. . . mount. . . Lepidus Pope et seq.
8. fhall:] shall, Rowe.
at] at the Yl^ Rowe, Cap. Var. '73, Ran. Knt, Dyce, Glo. Cam. at th* Pope, + .
9. Mount] Ff, Rowe, Var. *2i. Coll. Sing. Dyce, Wh. Glo. Cam. Hal. Sta. Mount Misenum Ktly. mount Pop>e et cet.
10. II. Your. ..me] Lines tndf shorter ...about... me Rowe et seq.
44. And though ] Walker {Crit. ii, 156): Read, as the connection of the thoughts requires, ' An though.'
3. hasten your Generals after] For other instances of the transposition of prepositions, see, if need be, Abbott, { 203.
8, 9. be at Mount] Steevens : That is. Mount Misenum. — Malone : Our author probably wrote * «' the Mount.' — [Is it not more likely that there is an absorption of the in the final / of * at ' ?— Ed.]
II. youle win two dayes vpon me] Franz (§ 334) : The persistent advance of any action, which chiefly takes place either at the cost or to the advantage of
128 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc. v.
Both. Sir good fucceffe. I2
LepL Farewell. Exeunt.
[Scene K]
Enter Cleopatery Charmian , IraSy and Alexas. Cleo. Giue me fome MufickeiMuficke^ moody foode of vs that trade in Loue. Omnes. The Muficke, hoa.
Enter Mardian the Eunuch. 5
Cleo. Let it alone, let's to Billards : come Charmian.
12. Both.] Ff. Mec. Agr. Cap. 4. Omnes.] Att. Cap.
Sir\ Om. Han. 6. Let..,come\ One line, Han. Cap.
13. Exeunt.] Exeunt severally. Cap. Varr.
Scene HI. Rowe. Scene V. Pope et Let .., Billards] One line, Steev.
seq. Varr. Knt, Sta.
Alexandria. Rowe. The Palace in Ut^s] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob.
Alexandria. Theob. Warb. Johns. Coll. Sing. Dyce, Wh.
1. Qeopater] F,. Glo. Cam. Ut us Han. et cet
2, 3. Giue, ..Loue] Lines end,/2W... Billards] F,. Icve. Rowe et seq.
another person, or 'which, through a gradual increase, impairs or in any way les- sens the stable condition of another, is indicated, after such verbs as <to gain,' < to encroach,' by on or upon. The preposition fulfills the same function after ' to win,' ' to grow ; ' but the expression is, however, occasionally in Shakespeare so pregnant as to be not always understood by a modem reader without further amplifications. [Thus, the present phrase is equivalent to] ' you will get the advantage of me by two days.' — [See also IV, xiv, 118, *My Queen and Eros Haue . . . got upon me A Noblenesse,' etc. — Ed.]
2. Masicke, moody foode, etc. ] Johnson : The mood is the mind, or mental disposition. Perhaps here is a poor jest intended between niood the mind and moods of music. — Steevens : * Moody,' in this instance, means melancholy. — [Thus in the first line of Twelfth Nighty * If music be the food of love, play on.']
3. of V8 that trade in Loue] There is no thought here of traffic^ — traffic is mercenary. No mercenary love demands music as its food. Qeopatra means that her sole dealing is in love ; it is her very life. — Ed.
6. let's to Billards] Malone : This game was not known in ancient times. — Hudson : ' An anachronism,' say the critics. But how do they know this ? Late researches have shown that many things were in use in old Egypt, which, afterwards lost, have been reinvented in modem times. But Shakespeare did not know this? Doubtless, not ; but then he knew that by using a term familiar to his audience he would lead their thoughts to what has always followed in the train of luxury and refinement Suppose he had been so learned, and withal such a slave to his learn- ing, as to use a term signifying some game which the English people had never heard of. Which were the greater anachronism? — A. A. Adee {^Lit. World, 21 April, 1883, Boston) : For about one hundred and fifty years, the fistvourite anachronism in
ACT II, sc. v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 129
[6. let's to BUlards] Shakespeare*s plays, singled out by the hypercritics, has been [this passage]. Of late, however, certain investigators have turned the tables, and instead of leaving the unlucky anachronism to support the Farmerian theory of Shakespeare's want of learn- ing, or the more kindly modem belief that he wrote too impetuously to be bound by mere chronology and scientific facts, they find in it an argument against the Shake- spearian authorship of the plays, since as one of them says : * The human encyclo- pedia who wrote that sentence appears to have known, — what very few people know nowadays, — that the game of billiards is older than Qeopatra.* It may be, as asserted, that a rudimentary game, in which ivory balls were punched with a stick into holes in a table, after the fashion of our modem < tivoli ' or < bagatelle,* was really in vogue more than two thousand years ago, but it is very certain that Shakespeare never bothered his head about it. He simply followed his habit, and cribbed the idea from somebody else. In Chapman's Blind Beggar of Alexandria^ iCgiale says: <Go, Aspasia, Send for some ladies to go play with you At chess, at billiards, and at other game.' As Chapman's play was printed in 1598, ten years before Ant, 6r* Cleo, was written, it is easy to see where Shakespeare get the idea that billiards was an Egyptian game, and a favourite pastime of women. Whether George Chapman, whose classical learning enabled him to translate Homer, wrote from actual knowl- edge, or committed an anachronism, may be disputed ; but the probabilities lean to the latter conjecture, for, in this same play, the hero flourishes a pistol, smokes tobacco, swears by 'God's wounds,' and talks fair modern Spanish, in the time of the Rolomies. — Murray {N. E. D.) z An adopted form of French billard^ the game ; so named from billard, < a cue,' originally < a stick with curved end, a hockey-stick,' diminutiTe of bille^ piece of wood, stick. In England introduced only as the name of the game, and made plural as in draughts^ skittles^ bowls^ etc. 1591 Spenser, Maiher Hubherdy 803, ' With all the thriftles games that may be found . . . With dice, with, cards, with halliards. 1598 Florio, Trucco^ a kinde of play with balles vpon a table, called billiards.* — [Then follows the present passage. In an Article in the Edinburgh Review (April, 1871, p. 377) on the ' Chorizontes,' the writer observes that * Shakespeare could not have made any of his characters speak of tobacco without being grossly anachronistic, the incidents in all his plays having occurred at remote periods, or, at any rate, much anterior to the introduction of tobacco into Europe, whereas Ben Jonson [who does mention tobacco] laid the plot of many a play in his own time when tobacco was familiar to all.' This statement having been criticised by Dr Hayman, the editor of the Odyssey^ the author of the Article replied ( Athen- itum, 6 Sept. 1873), and admirably defines the distinction between anachronisms, that might be termed permissible and those that are too 'gross' to be ever tolerated. After referring to the mention by Shakespeare of * cannon ' in ^ing John^ a * clock striking ' in Julius Casar^ and ' billiards ' in this present play, the writer continues, 'but no dramatic author, to produce a scenic effect, would shrink from such anachro- nisms, because they are not '* gross," not so " gross " as to be detected in an instant by a theatrical audience, which knows nothing whatever about the origin of can- non, clocks, and billiards. But all Shakespeare's contemporaries, even the most ignorant, knowing that tobacco had been introduced into the old world during their lives, would haVe derided the great dramatist had he represented Sir John Falstaff consoling himself at Dame Quickl3r's in the reign of Henry the Fourth, with a pipe of tobacco. ... So a dramatist of our age could not speak of William the Conqueror timvelling by an express train, or sending a message by the electric telegraph ; the
9
I30
THE TRACED IE OF
[act u, sc— ^*
Char. My arme is fore, bed play with Mardian.
Cleopa. As well a woman with an Eunuch plaide, as with a woman. Come you'le play with me Sir ?
Mardi. As well as I can Madam .
Cleo. And when good will is (hewed, Though^t come to (hort
The Aftor may pleade pardon. He none now, Giue me mine Angle, week to'th'Riuer there My Muficke playing farre off. I will betray Tawny fine fifties, my bended hooke ftiall pierce Their (limy iawes : and as I draw them vp, He think e them euery one an Anthony ^
7
10
I
8
8, 9. As well.., Sir t'\ Two lines, end- ing//ay </. ..,Sirf Rowe ct seq.
11, 12. And...Jhort'\ One line, Rowe et seq.
\l, Jhewed'\ Ff. shrtvd or shotted Pope et seq.
12. 7>lw^^V] MdVPope, + . though it Var. '78, '85, Mai. Ran. Stecv. Varr.
loJhort'\ toojhort Ff ct seq. 14. Angle ^'\ angle ; Glo. Cam. angle, Ktly.
14. /i;'M']/<y/^Cap. Varr. Mai Steev. Varr. Coll.
Riuer\ River ^ Ff, Rowe,+ river: Cap. et cet,
15. off}] F,Fj. off, F^ et seq.
16. Tawny Jine^ Tawnyfim F, Tawney-fene F^F^. Tawny-fin Row( Pope, Han. 7aioyf)^ifi«Vrheob.Waib, et seq.
fijhes\ fish Pope, + , Var. '73. bended^ bent Anon. ap. Cam.
anachronism would be *< gross"; it would come immediately within the cognizance of the audience, who know what is going on in their own generation, with some know- ing what went on in the generation immediately preceding ; and, thinking the mistake ridiculous, they would burst into an excessive merriment . . . But the anachronism would not be discovered by anybody in his audience, if a dramatic author were to represent the Egyptian Pharaoh Cheops going in a pair of boots to witness the prog- ress of the building of the Great Pyramid, or the Jews returning in hats and shoes from their Babylonish captivity. For where can the theatrical audience be found that knows anything about the history of boots, hats, and shoes, when it does not com- prise, peradventure, one man possessing sound learning and extensive information ? ' —Ed.]
1 1. And when good will, etc.] Steevens : Compare, < For never any thing can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it.' — Mid N. D. V, i, 82.
16. Tawny fine fishes] Theubald*s emendation which seems obvioas enough to us now, falls in with many another in Walker's list {Crii, ii, 61) of instances where final d and final e are confounded. See I, iv, 10 ; I, v, 58 ; V, i, 49. I do not know why Shakespeare should have here used * tawny/ which is not, at least in my experience, a characteristic colour of Mediterranean fishes, some of which are extremely brilliant in hue ; and he could hardly have had in mind English fish, inas- much as he had already in Much Ado spoken of seeing * the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream.' Possibly, it was Cleopatra's 'moodiness' which tinged everything with a sombre tint — Ed.
v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA I3I
ah ha;y'are caught.
Twas merry when you wagered on your Ang- 20
n your diuer did hang a fait fifh on his hooke \ with feruencie drew vp. That time? Oh times : him out of patience : and that night him into patience, and next mome, 25
iinth houre, I drunke him to his bed : t my Tires and Mantles on him,whilft is Sword Phillippan. Oh from Italie,
Enter a Mejfenger. 29
•] yoti re Rowe et seq. patience ; Cam. patience ; . . . patience ;
7)«af...t^.] Lines end, when Cap. et cet. (subs.)
f...i^. Pope et seq. 28. PkUlippan'] F,. PhiUippon FJF^.
ingUng,^ angling; Theob. Philippine Hkh. PAi/ippin Johns, PhU-
q. ippian Coll. Wh. i, Ktly.
f Oh times .] time^— O times ! Oh from'\ Oh. From Johns,
cc, Wh. SU. Glo. time^O Itaiie,'\ F,. Italic, F,. Italic, F^.
L Ktly, Cam. Hme !—0h Italy ;Thtoh. Itafy— Johns.
owe et cet 29. Enter...] After Phillippan. Coll.
ttience .'...patience, ] patience, Dyce, Glo. Cam. Enter Scleucus. Kem-
Rowc, + . patience, ... blc.
; a salt fish on his hooke] See Plutarch, Appendix. Grey (ii, 198) 1 Memoirs of the English Court, 1 707, p. 489, a similar stoiy of Nell Charles the Second. Douce (ii, 88) gives a story from Nashe's Lenten re a Cambridge scholar deceived a gaping crowd in a somewhat similar
ike] Abbott ( { 339) : Past indicative forms in m are very common in *. Thus sang does not occur, while < sung ' is common as a past indicative, ess common as a past tense than * sprung.' ' Begun ' is not nnconunon which is also used.
1 pat my Tires and Mantles on him] Warburton : This is finely The speaker is supposed to do this in imitation of Omphale, in her treat- rcules, the great ancestor of Antony.
rd Phillippan] Theobald: We are not to suppose, nor is there any n history, that Antony had any particular sword so called. The dignify- s, in this sort, is a custom of much more recent date. We find Antony, in this play, boasting of his own prowess at Pbilippi : see III, xi, 38. le greatest action of Antony's life ; and therefore this seems a fine piece intimating, that this sword ought to be denominated from that illustrious le same manner as modem heroes in romance are made to give their pons names.
r a Messenger] Mrs Jameson (ii, 133) : As illustrative of Geopatra's perhaps the 6nest and most characteristic scene in the whole play is that e messenger arrives from Rome with the tidings of Antony's marriage
132 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc ^•
Ramme thou thy fruitefuU tidings in mine eares, That long time haue bin barren. Mef, Madam, Madam.
30. Ramme\ Rain Han. Cap. Ran. 31. bin\ been F^.
Sing. Ktly. 32. Madam.'\ Madam ! Rowe.
frtdUfuW^ faithful Theob. ii, am^ — Cap. et seq. (subs.) Warb.
with Octavia. She perceives at once with quickness that all is not well, and sh^ hastens to anticipate the worst, that she may have the pleasure of being disappointed.^
Her impatience to know what she fears to learn, the vivacity with which she gradu
ally works herself up into a state of excitement, and at length into fiiry, is wrough out with a force of truth which makes us recoil. — Staffer (p. 402) : In the seen* between Qeopatra and the messenger who brings the tidings of Antony's marriage with Octavia, her fury and unreasonableness know no bounds. Harpagon, thumping Mattre Jacques, who, in obedience to his master's orders, tells him candidly what is said of him in the town ; the Viceroy of Peru, in the * P^richole ' of Mirim6e, banish- ing his secretary for a like service, are models of wisdom and coolness compared to Qeopatra. There is some shadow of excuse for their anger, as the account given them is not the mere simple announcement of a fact, but consists of a long preach- ment which the secretary and Maltre Jacques may have flavoured vrith a spice of malice of their own ; but the unhappy messenger to Cleopatra is as guiltless of the message as if he had given it to her under cover, closed and sealed. To insult him, beat him, and threaten him with a dagger shows a capability of exercising the same frenzy upon inanimate objects, such as pieces of furniture, mirrors, and china. No man, however furious, vents his rage in so senseless a form as this, which would seem to belong peculiarly to the anger of women and children. But at the same time, we must notice how passion dignifies every movement and action ; the impetu- ous torrent of her wrath makes what is immeasurably petty, mean, and ridiculous appear even grand. No one would ever feel inclined to laugh at this scene, in which what might have been the subject for a comedy is transformed by the violence and force of Cleopatra's love into tragic cries and outbursts. — Collier (ed. ii) : In the MS this Messenger is called Ells; but whether that were the name of the actor of the part, or of the character, as represented in some MS of the play, we cannot determine. We know no player of that day of the name of Elis or Ellis.
30. Ramme] Steevens : Rain of Hanmer agrees better with the epithets fndt- ful and barren. So, in Timon : * Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear.' — Malonk : The term employed in the text is much in the style of the speaker ; and is supported incontestably by a passage in fu/. Cas. : * I go to meet The noble Brutus, thrusting this report Into his ears.' Again, in The Tempest: * You cram these words into my earSf against The stomach of my sense.'— RiTSON : Ram is a vulgar word, never used in our author's plays, but once by Falstaff, where he describes his situation in the buck-basket. It is here evidently a misprint for rain. The quotation from Jul Cas. does not support the old reading at all, the idea being perfectly distinct — Steevens : * Ramm'd,' however, occurs in King John : II, i, 272. — Staunton : The expression in the text is quite characteristic of the speaker. — [Had Cleopatra said sweetly and poetically * rain thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,' the succeeding scene would never have been enacted. — Ed.]
-ACT II, sc v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
Qeo. Anthonycfs dead^ If thou fay fo Villaine, thou kil'ft thy Miftris : But well and free, if thou fo yeild him. There is Gold, and heere My blewefl vaines to kifTe : a hand that Kings Haue lipt, and trembled kifling.
Mef. Firft Madam, he is well.
Cleo. Why there's moreGold. But firrah marke, we vfe To fay, the dead are well : bring it to that, The Gold I pue thee, will I melt and powr Downe thy ill vttering throate.
Mef. Good Madam heare me.
133
33
35
40
45
33-36. Anthonyo's ... and heere\ Ff, Rowe. Lines end, so^ . . .free, . .,Kere Cap. vUImh^ „,freey „,here Sing. Dyce, Glo. CuiLSta. dead f.,. mistress... free, ...here Pope et cet
33. Anthonyo's] Antontus Del. Glo. Cam. Okf Antony is Ktly. Anthony's FT etcet
deadf"] dead; Rowe, Cap. deadf Fbpe. dead! Dyce, Glo. Cam.
34. fo Viltaine,} fo, Vi/tain, F^F^.
so, thou villain Huds.
34. hil'fll hillest Ktly.
35, 36. yeild him. There^ F,. yield him. There F^F^, Rowe, Pope i. yield him, there Pope ii et seq.
38. Haue'\ Hive F,. 40, 41. lVhy...vfe'\ One line, Rowc,-»-, Cap. Varr. Steev. Var. '03, '13, Knt, Sta.
42. bring i^] bring me Yi, Rowe.
43. thee'\ Om. F^.
44. ill vttering"] ill-utteringY^^.
33, 34. Anthonyo's dead, If thou, etc.] It is all very well for sudden terror to dutch at Qeopatra's heart and stop her pulses, but this is no excuse whatever for not speaking rhythmically. To what trouble her heedlessness gives rise ! Abbott (I 4184) decides that Antony is * de - ad,' and that the villain will kill his < Misteress.* Walker ( Vers. 48) does not prolong the term of Antonyms demise, and twice slay the slain, but inserts a do after * thou,' * If thou do say so; ' he cannot, however, abide plain * Mistris,' but must also pronounce it Misteress. Delius believes that in her intense excitement Cleopatra uses Anthony's full dignified Latin name ' Antonius,* 00 the only occasion when it is used throughout the play. Keightley emits an additional groan before < Anthonyo/ And thus all pare and protract the lines into nice, decorous lengths to please the eye, and rhythm is smug again. — Ed.
35. But well and free] Rann : But well; and free : — Say but he is well ; and thon gain'st thy freedom. — [Rann seldom, if ever, gives any authority in his notes; conjectures are there found of Capell, of M. Mason, and others ; all mingled with those which I believe to be his own. I think that the for^[oing note is one of the latter.— Ed.]
37. My blewest vaines to kisse, etc.] Hazlitt (p. 99) : How all the pride of beauty and high rank breaks out in her promised reward. — [Is there not in Beaumont ft Fletcher's False One, I, ii, a reminiscence of these lines : — ' and for thy news. Receive a favour kings have kneeled in vain for, And kiss my hand ' ? — Ed.]
134
THE TRACE DIE OF
[act n. sc v«r
Cleo. Well, go too I will : But there's no goodneffe in thy face V. Anthony Be free and healthfull;fo tart a fauour To trumpet fuch good tidings. I f not well, Thou (houldft come like a Furie crowned with Snakes, Not like a formall man.
Mef. Wilt pleafe you heare me ?
Cleo. I haue a mind to ftrike thee ere thou fpeak'ft: Yet if thou fay Anthony hues, 'tis well. Or friends with Cafar^ or not Captiue to him, He fet thee in a (hower of Grold,and haile
55
46. go too'\ go to F,Fj. go iOf F^.
47. face i/"} face^ if Ff, Knt face, ^Rowe, + ,CoU.Wh. Hal. Ktly. face: ifCtip. ct cet
48. healthfuU;fo'\ Ff, Knt. healthful; Why so Rowe, + . healthful^ why so Cap. Ran. Steev. Varr. Coll. ii, iii, Dyce ii, iii. healthful f needs so Mai. conj. healthful — so Var. '73 et cet. (subs.)
fauaur\ favour suits not Ktly.
49. trumpet'] usher M. Maaon.
tidings,'] Ff. tidings I Knt« Coll. i. Sing. Dyce, Glo. Cam. Hal Sta. tidings f Rowe et cet.
52. IViU] mirt Rowe u et seq.
54. *tis] Ff, Rowe,+, Var. '73, Coll. Hal. Sta. is Tyrwhitt, Cap. et cet
55. Captiue] Captaine or Captain Ff, Rowe.
56. fet] fee F,F^, Rowe, Pope.
47, 48. no goodnesse in thy face if Anthony Be free] I cannot but consider the punctuation of the Ff, which places a comma merely after < face,' to be far better than Capell's colon. Oeopatra means, I think, that no one with good tidings to impart could wear such a hang-dog look. — Ed.
48. so tart a fauour] Knight : How full of characteristic spirit is this passage, in which we exactly follow the punctuation of the original. But the editors are not satisfied with it. So they read, « why so tart a favour.'— Dyce (ed. ii) : The ' why' added by Rowe (and by Collier's MS) is absolutely necessary for the sense of this passage, to say nothing of the metre. — [Knight is exactly right, I think, when he says this speech is characteristic of Qeopatra, but he seems hardly to be aware how right he b. Twice before have we had exclamations from Qeopatra as full of scorn and contempt as this. She said to Charmian (I, iii, 14) * Thou teachest like a fool. The way to lose him ! ' and again (I, v, 86) < When I was green in judgement, cold in blood. To say as I said then I ' The present speech seems to me to be parallel. It appears to be a fashion of speaking as peculiar to Cleopatra as little short repetitions are to Rosalind, such as * Me believe it ! * ' You a lover 1 ' etc. Rowe's didactic • why' is to me oflFensive; and the pause after * healthful * makes good the metre. — Ed.]
50. a Furie crown'd with Snakes] Deighton : The Erinyes are represented by iEschylus as having bodies all black, snakes twined in their hair, and blood drq>- ping from their eyes.
51. formall] Johnson : Decent, regular. — Steevens : A man in his senses. — Bradley {N, E, D, s. v. f 4. c.) : Normal in intellect.
54. 'tis well] Tyrwhitt* s emendation, * is well,' is not absolutely necessary. 56. set thee in a shower of Gold, etc.] Warburton : That is, I will give thee
ACT II. sc. v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 135
Rich Pearles vpon thee. 57
Mef. Madam^ he's well.
Cleo. Wellfaid.
Mef. And Friends with Ca/ar. 60
Cleo. Thwart an honeft man.
Me/. Ca/ar^dLTiA he, are greater Friends then euer.
Cleo. Make thee a Fortune from me.
Mef, But yet Madam.
Cleo. I do not like but yet, it does alay 65
The good precedence, fie vpon but yet, Bur yet is as a laylor to bring foorth Some monftrous Malefaflor. Prythee Friend, Powre out the packe of matter to mine eare , The good and bad together : he's friends with CcBfar^ 70
In (late of heal th thou faift, and thou faift, free.
Mef. Free Madam^ no : I made no fuch report. He's bound vnto OSlauia.
Cleo. For what good tume ?
Mef For the beft tume i'th'bed. 75
57. thie."] ihi, F^ 65. alay] alloy Gould.
61. TJ^art'] Ff. ThouartWaxt. Mai. 66. precedence^ precedent Han.
Ran. ThoUrt Rowe et cet 67. Bur'\ F,.
63. Make'\ Marke F,. Mark FjF^, 69. the packe"] iky pack Han. Cap. Kowe, Cap. Ran.
Fortune"] Forune F,. 71. faijt^ A^'] f^fi or /ay eft free Ff.
64. Madcan,] Madam — Rowe et seq. soyst^ free Rowe.
(sabs.) 72. Madam,] Madam !¥L
65. 66. but yet] As a quotation, Pope made] have made Pope.
et seq. report] /port F^F^, Rowe, Pope.
ji kingdom, it being the eastern ceremony, at the coronation of their kings, to powder them with gold-dust and seed-pearl: So Milton, — * the gorgeous East vrith richest hand Showeis on her kings barbaric pearl and gold ' — Bk. ii, line 5. In the Life 0/ 7tmur-dec or Tamerlane, written by a Persian contemporary author, are the fol- lowing words^ as translated by Mons. Petit de la Croix, in the account there given of his coronation, Bk. ii, chap. I : ' Les Princes du sang royal et lea Emirs repondi- rent 4 pleines mains sur sa t6te quantity d'or et de pierreries selon la coAtume,*
65, 66. mlay The good precedence] Steevens : That is, abate the good quality of what is already reported.
66. fie vpon but 3ret] Compare, Sir Philip Sidney, Tke Defence o/Poesie, 1598, p. 518, ad fin, ^ 'Thus doing, you shall be placed with Dantes Beatrix, or Virgils Anckises. But if (fie of such a But) you be bom so neare the dirt-making Cataract cCNilns,' etc.— Ed.
136 THE TRACED IE OF [act 11. s^::^ — ^•
CUo. I am pale CJutrtnian.
Mef. Madam^ he's married to Oilauia.
Cleo. The moft infefHous Pefblence vpon thee.
Strikes him dawne.
Mef. Good Madam patience.
Geo. What fay you ? Strikes him.
Hence horrible Villaine, or He fpume thine g^^s Like balb before me : lie vnhaire thy head,
She hales Mm vp and dawne. Thou (halt be whipt with Wyer, and fteVd in brine, Smarting in lingring pickle.
Mef. Gratious Madam, I that do bring the newes, made not the match.
Cleo. Say 'tis not fo, a Prouince I will giue thee. And make thy Fortunes proud : the blow thou had'ft Shall make thy peace, for mouing me to rage, And I will boot thee with what guift befide Thy modeflie can begge.
Mef He's married Madam.
Cleo. Rogue, thou haft liu'd too long. Draw a knife. 95
Mef Nay then I le runne: What meane you Madam, I haue made no fault . Exit.
Char.Good Madam keepe your felfe within your felfe. The man is innocent.
C/eo. Some Innocents fcape not the thunderbolt : 100
76. /fl/^-] famt Gould. 92. ^tftl gift FjF^.
80. patUnci\ have but patience Han. 95. knife.] dagger. Rowe.
82. ^<7m'^^...<ryrj] Separate line, Cap. 97. Madam^ Madam f Rowe ii et
Var. '78 et seq. scq.
8$. Jtevfd^ stood Qov\6.» loo. Inno€enis\ Innoceuts F,.
93. tnodestie] Schmidt (Z^'J^.) : That is, freedom from arrogance or obtrusive impudence. — [Whereof the present passage is given as an example. But is it not, more properly, equivalent to moderation? — Ed.]
95. Draw a knife] Note the mandatory tone, indicative of a play-house copy. — Ed.
100. Some Innocents scape not the thunderbolt] Douce (ii, 89) takes this line as the subject of a note on the Roman belief in regard to those who were struck by lightning ; it in nowise illustrates Cleopatra's words, which mean simply that the innocent sometimes suffer with the guilty, and that therefore this man cannot complain. — Walker (CrtV. iii, 300) will have us arrange, 'as my ear requires,' he lays, this and the preceding line thus : < The man is innocent. Some innocents |
76
II, sc. v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 137
M^lt Egypt into Nyle : and kindly creatures lOi
Tume all to Serpents. Call the flaue againe, Though I am mad, I will not byte him :Call? Char. He is afeard to come.
Cleo. I will not hurt him, 105
Tl^^fe hands do lacke Nobility, that they ftrike ^ xneaner then my felfe : fince I my felfe "I^ue giuen my felfe the caufe. Come hither Sir.
Enter the Mejfenger againe, ,
^^^ough it be honed, it is neuer good no
^^ bring bad newes ; giue to a gratious Meffage ^^^^ hoft of tongues, but let ill tydings tell ^^^emfelue s, when they be felt. 113
^01. kindfy"] kindled Y{, Kovi^, 109. Enter...] Re-enter the Mes-
^03. CaU?'\ Call. FjF^ et seq. senger. Rowe. Re-enter Charmian and
^04. afeard^ afraid Pope, + , Var. Messenger. Dyce.
^3. 1 1 2, II 3. f/^. . . Tkem/elues] it, . . Tftem-
105. [Exit Charmian. Dyce. reives F,.
ipe not the thunderbolt/ whereby it is difficult to perceive the gain. The half- 99 is filled up, to be sure ; but why should * 'Scape not the thunderbolt ' be ?
10I9 102. Melt £g3rpt . . . Tume all] Abbott (§ 364) observes in regard to ^ese two verbs that it is ' often impossible to tell whether we have an imperative ^rith a vocative, or a subjunctive used optatively or conditionally.' I hardly under- stand what is meant by an * imperative with a vocative ' in this passage. The voca- tives can hardly be ' Egypt,* or ' kindly creatures.' But omitting the < vocatives/ both Terfos seem to me imperatives, like ' Let Rome in Tiber melt.' Thiselton ^p. 13), in the present command of Qeopatra and in that of Anthony last quoted, vonld find that < the affinity of nature between Anthony and Cleopatra is suggested by their similar imprecations when the continuance of their connection is threatened.' —Ed.
103. Call ?] Is this interrogation mark absolutely wrong? It has been discarded by every editor since the Third Folio. But may it not indicate Charmian' s hesi- tition, and Cleopatra's imperious questioning of her delay? May it not be similar to Lear's frenzied shout, ' Who stirs ? ' when the circle of courtiers stand motion- less with horror at the banishment of Cordelia, and Lear has already cried, ' Call France ! ' ?— Ed.
106. These hands do lacke Nobility, etc.] Malone : This play was probably not produced until after Elizabeth's death, when a stroke at her proud and passion- ate demeanour to her courtiers and maids of honour (for her majesty used to chastise thtm too) might be safely hazarded. — [What cared Shakespeare, at such a moment, for Elizabeth and all her court? He was Cleopatra. — Ed.]
107, 108. since I my selfe . . . the cause] Deighton : Sc, by allowing myself to be such a slave to love for Antony. — [Or, possibly, in that she had ever allowed Anthony to leave her. — Ed.]
138
THE TRACED IE OF
[act u,
Me/. I haue done my duty.
Cleo. Is he married ? I canAot hate thee worfer then I do, If thou againe fay yes.
Me/. He's married Madam.
Cleo. The Gods confound thee, Doft thou hold there ftill ?
Me/ Should I lye Madame ?
Cleo. Oh, I would thou didft: So halfe my Egypt were fubmerg'd and made A Cefteme for fcal'd Snakes. Go get thee hence, Had'ft thou Narci/fns in thy face to me. Thou would'ft appeere moft vgly : He is married ?
Me/. I craue your Highneffe pardon.
Cleo. He is married ?
Me/ Take no offence, that I would not offend you. To punnifli me for what you make me do Seemes much vnequall, he's married to 0£lama.
Cleo. Oh that his fault fliould make a knaue of thee.
\2S
130
132
114. I haue\ Vve Dyce ii, iii. doHi\ but done Cap.
117. tkou\ you Rowe ii, + .
118. He'i\ He is Varr. MaL Ran. Steev. Varr. Knt.
119. 120. One line, Rowe et seq. 122. / wou/d'\ would FjF^, Rowe,
Pope.
didft:'\ didst. Coll. Dyce, Wh. Glo. Cam. Hal. Sta.
124. Cefterru\ Ciftem F^F^.
Goget'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. i, Han. Cam. ii. go, get Theob. ii et cet
125. face to me,"] face, to $fte Ff ti seq.
126, 128. married ^1 married. Pope.
129. offence, that^ offence, for Pope, Han. offence, Gould.
130. do'\ do, Rowe.
131. vnequcUl,'\ unequal, Johns. Var. '73. unequall: Ff et cet.
h^s'\ he is Varr. Mai. Ran. Steer. Varr. Knt, ColL Wh. Hal.
Ac's married to 0<5lauia] Given to Qeopatra followed by the stage direc- tion : The messenger pauses and makes no answer. Orger.
123. So halfe my Egypt] Abbott (§ 133) : 'So,' thus meaning on conditiom that, is sometimes used where the context implies the addition of ex^en. Thus here, * So (even if ) half my B^pt,* etc.
126. appeere most vgly] Steevkns: So in King John, IH, i, 36, 37; *Fd- low, be gone ; I cannot brook thy sight ; This news hath made thee a most ugly man.'
129. Take no offence, etc] Capell (i, 35) : Meaning — no new offence ; and is wpoV^ upon seeing her angry, that her question was not instantly answered ; his delay, as the speaker would intimate, proceeding from no other cause, but — that he would not offend her.
II, sc. v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 139
^^'fea.t art not what thwart fure of. Get thee hence, 133
*33. Thai. ..fure o/"] Thai art not —Sing. i. That art not! Whatthoiirt
'^^^*^ thou art fure of. Yi^^ow^ That sure of * t ? Sing, n. That art not what
^^•^^ ^ what thotirt sure of I Han. thouutter'stKirmtax. That art not what
^*H). Cap. That art notf^lVhai! thoti rt sure of ! Voi^ t\ ctt,
^***^rt sure of U f Mason, Steev. Var. 133. art^ wot Jervis. art's Bul-
23. »13, Coll. ii, Hazlitt, KUy, Dtn. loch. ^a/ art not!-^Whatf thau'rt sure of
I33. That art not what th'art sure of) Johnson : I fancy the line consists only ^ ahrapt starts : • That art— not what ?— Thou*rt sure on*t.' • That his fault should ^^^e a knave of thee that art — hut what shall I say thou art not ? Thou art then ^Qre of this marriage^ — Steevens : In Meas.for Afeas,^ II, ii, is a passage so much resembling this, that I cannot help pointing it out for the use of some future com- iQeatator, though I am unable to apply it with success to the very difficult line before ns: ' Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what h^s most assur'd. His glassy essence.' — Tollet : That b, < Thou art not an honest man, of which thou art thyself assured, but thou art, in my opinion, a knave by thy master's fault alone.' — [Knight substantially adopts this paraphrase.] — M. Mason : A proper punctuation, with the addition of a single letter, will make this passage clear ; the reading sure efty instead of * sure of* : 'That art not!— What? thou'rt sure oftf' That is, * What ? are you sure of what you tell me, that he is married to Octavia ? ' — Malone : Cleopatra begins now a little to recollect herself, and to be ashamed of having struck die servant for the fault of his master. She then very naturally exclaims : ' O, that his fault should make a knave of thee. That art not what thou'rt sore of ! ' for so I would read, with the change of only one letter. ' Alas, is it not strange, that the &nlt of Antony should make thee appear to me a knave, thee, that art innocent, and art not the cause of that ill news, in consequence of which thou art yet sore with my Mows ! ' If it be said, that it is very harsh to suppose that Cleopatra means to say to the Messenger, that he is not himself that information which he brings, and which has now made him smart, let the following passage in Coriolanus answer the objec- tion : ' Lest you should chance to whip your information^ And beat the messenger that bids beware Of what is to be dreaded.' — [IV, vi, 53.] The £g3rptian queen has beaten her information. If the old copy be right, the meaning is — ' Strange, that his fault should make thee appear a knave, who art not that information of which thon bringest such certain assurance.' — Staunton observes that the * simple change [sore'\ proposed by Malone is more Shakespearian' than Mason's. Collier (ed. i), who follows the punctuation of M. Mason without changing * of ' into of*t, admits that the original text is ' far from intelligible. By the words,' he continues, *** What ! thou'rt sure of? " Cleopatra intends to inquire of the messenger once more, whether he is certain of the tidings he has brought.' In his Second Edition, how- ever. Collier adopted Mason's oft, but in his Third Edition he returned to the punctuation and reading of his First, — Dyce {Remarks , p. 247) : M. Mason's punctuation, with the change of 'of to of't, afforded at least a sense ; but Collier, . . . has made the passage mere nonsense. I should strongly protest against any deviation from the old eds. here. * That art not what thou'rt sure of may mean, 'That art not the evil tidings of which thou givest me such assurance.' — [Coluer did not relish having his reading stigmatised as < mere nonsense' ; accordingly in his
I40 THE TRACED IE OF [actii, sc. v.
[133. That art not what th'art sure of] Second Edition he contrived in an adroit way to say that the Rev. Mr Dyce was in < somewhat of a dilemma/ a hideous imputation which flesh and blood could not stand ; and so in both of Dyce's subsequent editions, Dyce denounced Collier's * discredit- able subterfuge/ printing these two words in small capitals, which are always thus supposed to sting like adders fanged. If it were not ludicrous, would it not be humil- iating, to see, in the awful presence of Shakespeare, wee atomies taking themselves so seriously? — Ed.] — R. G. White (ed. i) reads «That art but what thou'rt sure of,' and thus explains : That is, being merely a messenger you are to be regarded only according to the tenor of your message . . . The universal previous punctuation of the passage makes it not superfluous to say, that it is not an optative exclamation, but a declaration ; and that < that * in the previous line is not the oonjunctiony but the deflnitive adjective. Cleopatra, in reply to the messenger's plea, that he only per- forms his office, says, 'O that [t. e, Antony's marriage], which is his fault, should make a knave of thee, that art but what thy tidings are.' — [White retained this read- ing in his Second Exiition, with substantially the same paraphrase.] — The Cowdsn- Clarkes : That is, who art not thyself that fault which thou art so sure has been committed. The Messenger has before said, * I that do bring the news made not the match,' and * I have made no fault.' — Hudson (reading * That art in what thou'rt sure of ') : That is, *sharest in, or art mixed up with, or infected by, the message which thou art sure of.' So in I, ii, 'The nature of bad news infects the teller,* Cleopatra's idea seems to be, that the Messenger is made a knave by the knavish message which he brings, and with which he shows himself to be in sympathy by sticking to it so constantly. — C. M. Ingleby (A': <&• Qu, 1885, VI, xi, 362) : The sense is : ' that ought not to be confounded with thy foul message, yet seemest to be tarred with the same brush.' — G. JoiCEY (N, 6f* Qu, 1891, VII, xii, 342) : Read : ' That art not — what thou art sure of ! ' Is not Cleopatra about to say ' that art not married' ? She cannot bring herself to utter the (to her) detestable word again and paraphrases it as above. The meaning would be, * O that Anton3r's knavish fault of getting married should cause thee — thee that art not married — to be treated as a knave.'— Br. Nicholson (M df Qu. 1892, VIII, i, 182) : I Uke it that the author meant that Cleopatra, — ^lookiug to what she had just done, — would assume that such a knave was sure to be whipped or carted. One must not look for speech other than impulsive from an infuriated woman, still less from a Cleopatra maddened by jealous rage ; nor was Shakespeare so bad an imitator of nature as to make her talk at such a time as thoughtfully as when debating what would best set off her charms when robed as the Paphian queen. — Deiguton (Old Drama, ii, 41) : Perhaps 'That art no whit th' author of '/'.* i. e.^ that you, who are in nowise answerable for his fault, should be made a knave by it. This seems a suitable sense, and author for * ait sure' is no very violent alteration considering the writing of the time and the various spellings of tlie word. — Herford: (With irony) that art innocent, forsooth, of offence, yet sure to offend 1 — [This line has not proved very encouraging to those who have lightheartedly attempted to amend it Its most popular emendation has but five adherents. The original text can be paraphrased hardly better, I think, than it is by Dyce (following Malone substantially), as quoted above in his Remarks, What the messenger was sure of was the ill tidings. These he himself assuredly was not, and these it was that Cleopatra would like to tear in pieces ; but as she had maltreated him instead, all the pity she could give him was that Anthony's fault had exposed him to the treatment of a knave. — £d.]
^er II, sc. v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 141
^i^c Marchandize which thou haft brought from Rome
c all too deere for me: 13S
e they vpon thy hand, and be vndone by em.
Char. Good your Highneffe patience.
Cleo. In prayfing Anthony^ I haue difpraisM Ccefar.
Char. Many times Madam.
CUo. I am paid for't now : lead me from hence, 140
faint, oh IraSjCharmian : 'tis no matter.
to the Fellow, good Alexas bid him eport the feature of 0£lauia : her yeares, 143
154. Marchandize whuK\ Merchan- 140. I am\ Lam F^.
which F,, Cap. Merchandi/es which fi^^^ f^ *^ Pope, + , Varr. Mai.
^, Rowc merchandises FopCf-k- . Mer- Ran.
^^andi/e which F^ et cet. 141. faint,'] faint; Rowe et seq.
135,136. ^r^...^tfif</,] One line, Cap. (subs.)
seq. Channian .*] Charmian ! — Rowe
136. em"] *em F^F^ et seq. et seq.
[Exit Mes. Kowe et seq. 142. Alexas Hif} Alexas, did F^F^.
138. pi^ayjif^] praying F,. Alexas ; bid Cap. et seq. 140. Two lines. Cap. Steev. et seq.
136. em] The only other instances, that I can recall ( Concordances give no help)
^^f the nse in the First Folio of this abbreviation, are in The Tempest, where Prospero,
^Kpeaking of his government in Naples, says * The creatures that were mine, I say, or
^^hang'd 'em, Or els new fonn'd 'em; ' I, ii, 99, 100; and again, in Henry V: IV,
^ii, 124, where Henry dismisses the French Herald who had come to demand a
^mnsom from him, Henry replies, * They shall have none, I swear, but these my
joints ; Which if they have as I will leave 'em them, Shall yield them litUe,' etc.,
"^rhere the full form, them, would be decidedly harsh ; and the reason for the abbre-
^^risdon is plain. Again, in Coriolanus, H, iii, 220, the First Citizen boasts, 'I
piave] twice hundred [voices] and their friends to piece 'em.' Possibly this may
indicate the low estate of the speaker. And, lastly, we find Macbeth demanding of
Che witches, ' Call 'em ; let me see 'em.' — IV, i, 72, which may indicate his frenzied
ampatience. But why this form should be used in the present line and in The Tem»
^st^ I do not know. — Ed.
140-143. I am . . . her yeares] Walker {Crit, iii, 300) : Arrange and write, perhaps, — * Pm paid for't now. — Lead me from hence, I faint ; | O, Iras — Charm- ian— 'Tis no matter. — Go | To M' fellow, good Alexas; bid him report | The feature of Octavia, her years." |
143. Report the feature, etc.] Grey (ii, 201) : This is a manifest allusion to the questions put by Queen Elizabeth to Sir James Melvil concerning his mistress the Queen of Scots. — [The MS, containing Sir James Melvil's account, was not dis- covered until 1660, and was not published until 1683. It would not have been worth while to repeat this note of Grey, had it not been reprinted in the Variorum of /Sj/.'—Ed.]
143. feature] Schmidt (Lex,) furnishes many examples where 'feature' means * the shape, make, exterior, the whole turn or cast of the body.'
142 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act n, sa v-
Her inclination, let him not leaue out
The colour of her haire. Bring me word quickly, 145,
Let him for euer go, let him not Chartman^ Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, The other wayes a Mars. Bid you Alexas Bring me word, how tall flie is : pitty me Charmiany But do not fpeake to me. Lead me to my Chamber. 150
Exeunt.
146. go^ let kim fM/] F,. go^ lei him Wh. Glo. Cam. SU. Rife, DtiL way Jki
not, FjF^. go — let him not, Rowe, 4- . is a Varr. way h^s Ran. vmry h4^s d
go : — Let him not — Cap. ct ccL (subs.) Theob. ii ct cet.
fM/] go Gould. 148. Alexas] Alexas [to Mardian.
148. The other] Th* other Theob. ii. Cap. et seq. + , Slecv. Var. *03, '13, Knt. i^<^. Bring me] Bring Pope,+,
wayes a] F,F . way's a F^, Words. Rowe, Pope, Theob. i, Johns. Cap. Dyce, 15a do not/^ahe] speak not Pope, + .
146. Let him for euer go] Johnson : She is now talking in broken sentences, not of the Messenger, but of Antony. — Tyrwuitt (p. ii) : This, I think, would be more spirited thus : — * Let him for ever go— let him — no, — Charmion.' — [Adopted, substantially, by Rann and Wordsworth.]
146. let him not] Thiselton (p. 14) : That is, hinder him not aeopotra noticing that Charmian has started to bid Alexas not to bring back the Messenger, corrects herself and tells Charmian not to interfere. The first * him ' in this line refers to the Messenger; the second to Alexas. — [Dr Johnson's interpretation seems to me more just. Qeopatra's thoughts are not here concerned with any ignoble messenger. It is Anthony from whom she wishes to part * for ever,' who, though he be in one aspect like a monster, in another he is a god. — Ed.]
147. 148. painted one way . . . other wayes a Mars] Staunton : An allusion to the ' double ' pictures in vogue formerly, of which Burton says, — ' they are like these double or turning pictures; stand before wch, you see a fair maid, on the one side an ape, on the other an owl.' — [Democritus to the Header, p. 73, ed. 1651.] — And Chapman, in All Fades, I, i, ' But like a cousoning picture, which one way Shewes like a Crowe, another like a Swanne.' — [Burton had once before (p. 36) thus referred to these pictures : * — and he, and the rest are hypocrites, ambodexters, out sides, so many turning pictures, a lyon on the one side, a lamb on the other.' — Ed.]
148. wayes a Mars] Is not this clearly a sophistication due to the ear ? — Ed. 151. Exeunt] Mrs. Jameson (ii. 139) : The pride and arrogance of the Egyptian
queen, the blandishment of the woman, the unexpected but natural transitions of temper and feeling, the contest of various passions, and at length — when the wild hurricane has spent its fury — the melting into tears, faintness, and languishment, are portrayed with the most astonishing power, and truth, and skill in feminine nature. More wonderful still is the splendour and force of colouring which is shed over this extraordinary scene. The mere idea of an angry woman beating her menial presents something ridiculous or disgusting to the mind ; in a queen or a tragedy heroine it is still more indecorous ; yet this scene is as far as possible from the vulgar or the comic Cleopatra seems privileged to ' touch the brink of all we hate ' with impunity.
^^ n. sc. vi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 143
\Scene F/.]
^ourijh. Enter Pompey^ at one doore with Drum and Trum- pet : at another Ca/ar^ LepiduSj Anthony^ Enobarbus^ Me- cenaSy Agrippa^ Menas with Souldiers Marching. Pom. Your Hoftages I haue, fo haue you mine : And we fliall talke before we fight. 5
QE/ar. Mod meete that firft we come to words,
And therefore haue we
Our written purpofes before vs fent,
Which if thou haft confidered, let vs know,
irtwill tye vp thy difcontented Sword, 10
And carry backe to Cicelie much tall youth.
That elfe muft perifli heere. Pom. To you all three.
The Senators alone of this great worl d,
Chiefe Faflors for the Gods. I do not know, 1 5
Wherefore my Father fhould reuengers want,
Hauing a Sonne and Friends, fince lulius Ca/arj
Who at PhilHppi the good Brutus ghofted, 1 8
Scene IV. Rowe. Scene VI. Pope et 6, 7. that firft „.kaue we\ One line,
Rowe et seq. The Coast of Italy near Misenum. 9. confidered '\ consider* d Pope et
seq.
I-105. Om. Gar. Kemblc. 10. */zw7/] it will ¥^,
I. FlonrUh.] Om. Ff. 12. mufi'] much F,.
Pompey,] Pompy^ F^. Pompey 15. Gods, I'\ gods^ — /Theob. Warb.
and Menas, Rowe et seq. et seq. (subs. )
3. Menas] Om. Rowe et seq. 17. Friends,"] friends ; Rowe et seq.
This imperial termagant, this * wrangling queen, whom every thing becomes/ becomes her fury. We know not by what strange power it is, that in the midst of all these muroly passions and childish caprices, the poetry of the character, dnd the fanciful and sparkling grace of the delineation are sustained and still rule in the imagination ; tnit we feel that it is so.
3. Meoas] Collier : In the Folios, Menas is inserted as if he were one of the firiends and followers of Caesar. — [Rowe made the change. See Text. Notes,]
II. much tall youth] Gippord remarks: There is scarcely a writer of Jonson's age who docs not frequently use * tall ' in the sense of bold or courageous. — Every Man in his Humour, IV, v, p. 124. — [See * tall fellow of his hands.' — H^int, Tale, V, ii, 164 of the present edition.]
18. ghosted] Bradley (N.E.D, 2, trans,) : To haunt as an apparition. — [The present is the earliest instance. The next is from Burton, * Ask not with him in the Poet . . . What madness ghosts this old man, but what madness ghosts us all ? ' — p. 19, ed. 162 1 ; p. 22, ed. 165 1.]
144
THE TRACED IE OF
[act n, sc. vL
There faw you labouring for him. What was't
That mou'd pale CaJJius to confpire ? And what
Made all-honored, honeft, Romaine Brutus^
With the arm'd reft, Courtiers of beautious freedome,
To drench the CapitoU, but that they would
Haue one man but a man, and that his it
Hath made me rigge my Nauie. At whofe burthen,
The angered Ocean fomes, with which I meant
To fcourge th'ingratitude , that defpightfull Rome
Caft on my Noble Father.
Cce/ar. Take your time.
AnL Thou can'ft not feare vs Pompey with thy (ailes.
20
25
30
19. for Aim"] for me F F^, Rowc. for him Han.
wetit'\ Ff, Rowe, Cap. Sing. Dyce, Glo. Cam. Sta. was it Pope et cet.
20. confpire ?'\ conspire; Dyce, Glo. conspire^ Cam.
20, 21. fe/A<2/... Brutus] One line, Var. '78, *85, Mai. Ran.
21. Made'\ Var. '78, '85, Mai. Knt, Coll. i, Hal. Mad the F,. Made thee Pope, Theob. Warb. Johns. Alade the FjF^ ct cet.
all-honor' d'\ all-honoured QoW. i, Del.
22. Courtiers'^ couriers Theob. oonj. (Nichols, Illust. withdrawn.) Han. beautious'\ beauteous F F^.
24. one man but a man,j Ff. on£ man but a man / Rowe. but one m4xn, a man ; Pope. One man, but a man t Theob. i. one man, but a man t Theob. ii, Warb. Johns. Var. ^73. one man hut a man /Han. et cet.
his'\ is Yi et seq.
27. defpightfull 1 despiteful Han. i, Steev. ct seq.
30. failes.'\ sails, Rowe.
19. There saw 3rou labouring for him] Hudson: That is, Julius Caesar, after his death, saw you his son and friends labouring for his revenge at Philippi ; there- fore I know no reason why my father should want revengers, as he has also a son and friends surviving him.
20. pale Cassius] ' Casar also had Cassius in great gealousie, and suspected him much : whereuppon he sayed on a time to his friends, what will Cassius doe, thinke ye? I like not his pale looks.' — North's Plutarch : Julius Cesar, p. 787, ed. 1595 (Leo's Photolithograph\
2$, CapitoU] Craik {/ul. Cas, H, i, 77) : As an historical fact, the meeting of the Senate at which Caesar was assassinated was held, not in the Capitol, but in the Curia in which the statue of Pompey stood, being, as Plutarch tells us, one of the edifices which Pompey had built, and had given, along with his famous Theatre, to the public. The mistake is found also in Hamlet, IH, ii, and [here in Ant, ^ Cleop,\
24. one man but a man] Theobald : That is, they would have no One aim at arbitrary power, and a degree of preheminence above the rest. What did they kill Caesar for, but to prevent his aspiring above his Fellow Countrymen ?
30. Thou can'st not feare vs] Johnson : Thou canst not affiight us with thy numerous navy.
ACT 11, sc. vi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 145
W'e^le fpeake with thee at Sea. At land thou knoVft 31
How much we do o're-count thee.
J^om. At Land indeed THou doft ore count me of my Fatherrs houfe : ^ut fince the Cuckoo buildes not for himfelfe, 35
R-exnaine in't as thou maift.
Lepi. Be pleasM to tell vs, V^or this is from the prefent how you take) The offers we haue fent you.
Cafar. There^s the point. 40
Ant. Which do not be entreated too , But waigh what it is worth imbracM Ca/ar. And what may follow to try a larger Fortune. 43
31. Weele/peake\ HV rf wraJk Gould. 41, 42. fVAicA ...watg'AI One line,
54. PatAerrs] F,. Rowe et seq.
38. (For ... iake)'\ (For ... now you 41. too]toY{,
tmike) "Fi (subs.), Rowe, Pope. (For 42. imbrac'd'] embracing Wray ap.
tiis is from the present ) how you take Cam.
Theob. et seq. (subs.) 43. And.. .Fortune"] Two lines, Rowe
prefent] purpose Daniel. et seq.
39. offers] offer Han. Dyce ii, iii. follow] follow F^. you.] you — Rowe, Pope, Han.
31. Weele speake with thee] See ' Would we had spoke together/ II, ii, 194.
34. Thou dost ore count me, etc.] Capbll (i, 35) : <0'er-count' in this speech is a pcnrersion of that [in Anthony's speech, line 32] ; for where Antony meant, — orer-number, this speaker means,— over- reach. — [See Plutarch, Appendix.]
35* 3^- since the Cuckoo . . . Remaine, etc.] Capell (i, 35) : Where is the pn^niety of bidding Antony stay in this house, ' since the cuckoo builds not for him- s^f f^ the only solution of it is, — that 'tis one of those half- worded speeches, that purposely left incomplete, and to be made out by the understanding of the p>arty s'd to: what is wanting to perfect this speech, is contain' d in the following paraphrase ; — But, since providence suffers the cuckoo to use a nest that is not of his building, (I too must submit to a like dispensation ; and so) *■ remain in'ty as thou tmayst^* keep the house you have seiz'd upon how you can. — ^Johnson : Since like the cnckoo, that seizes the nests of other birds, you have invaded a house which you oould not build, keep it while you can. — [Dr Johnson once said that if Capell had only come to him he would have ' endowed his purposes with words.' — Ed.]
38. from the present] Steevens : That is, foreign to the object of our present discussion. — [For many examples where * from* means apart from ^ away from^ with- out a Terb of motion, see Abbott, § 158.]
42. it is worth imbrac'd] It is within the bounds of possibility that the omission of a full stop after 'imbrac'd' is intentional, and indicates that Oesar in his eager- ness intenrupts Anthony. That Csesar begins his sentence with ' and ' adds a faint tioge of probability to this doubtful surmise. Where we have an undoubted inter- nation, as in line 87, the dash is portentous. — Ed. xo
146 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act n. sc. n.
Pimu Yoa hane made me oficr Of Gcdie,Sardiiiia : and I muft 45
Rid all tbe Sea of Pirats. Tben,to fend Meafures of Whcate to Rome : this greed vpoo. To part with vnhackt ec^es,and beare backe Our Tafges vndmted.
Omuus. That's our oficr. 50
Bcnm. Know then I came before yoa heen^ A man prepared
To take this oficr. ^vX Mark€ AmAot^^ Put me to fome impatience : though I loofe The praife of it by telling. You muft kuow 55
When Ot/ar and irour Brother were at Uowes, Your Mother came to Gcelieyand cfid finde
44- Yimhmmf\ rjm7it¥kipt^^,I>30t atq. S»m- $1-53- J
45. Ga&Jl F^ wmmm — rfata^ Itowe.
47. /-»«/] F^H«LIKaE,k*/raB/ 54./W]/WrHn.
TjF^ tAcA. 55. AsQb^. >Vv] FI; Rove. Sof-
49. Tij^w] Sviea F^, Rove. £vjr ttSSt^,' yum Ftpt^ ~~ ~'
ftpc-, OpL ¥«•- *73, Seerr. Var. 'c^. TSKaix el sq.
5Ql Okbcs.] Cjbs. AaL LepL Cap^ <£
47. CT^ed] It is act aecessarr s m aodenued tex: to pciai dus ''gretd; k ii a
:, r.\aa «:^edxed ixa c^tbe Tstw «r^K. ia ue fraa 1^ tine of Wvcfit See II, i, $o: Mt^, if Tr*. IL fi, 07. — Etl
49. Oar Targes YSkdxafied^ Wjlixxil ( #V=. 353) : FdfHLblj imr^. pKTkoe die azKissrccbe xuks aa abcrenaaed pjsal. !Ike mbbuxt*, aK^^i^iBBar^ ; aad so vole n iLjrviEnAaaf. ^ • ▼< 5*'-^* ^Acc itospc tis^cs cc prooK^ ^ iiiiacil be nand.* T^rgt ni tbe &:^:£:at wx^i k-c ^ Eliubechu Ea^-xifSi. [Of this lasc remavk of Walker, Dtcx .ed. u »Ts] I jca ac< s=e t^xsi I rroefl^aad Pai'-.^lMt oonsare Ae fbl- Icvi:^ passages oc Chsp^^i:=.'s Sifme^ : — *As froia b^ c^xaxxiC be leapC doviie, l«9n:b bis zcrry cf Veasae.'— .TSoi; K li. r. i5Ci.ei. FcB^; • Aad (witb bb lave) socofc? thsv-c^b tb? Z£r^ <£ tbai bnas Lraaa k:2^." — BL r^ pu 167 ; * Whb svoid aai ace ther rex: ix ibes: ^>eur rr-j-^ i^Bg^T rgcad,' — 5L la, p^ 16S. la a nole oa ibe ^iae » i^ic/viav Mr Siis^er ^ Sax£fr3krx*?« ei. 1S56 obserres: 'Tbe planl tar^ ^c-ts& tc" bare Snx Jocxaerhr a i&:o»7!la^e ^jay/i]^ as in Frrwb, vbcie its cloess fc^cs b £f •vacrr-/ T^ii C:;arrr.6T n JeafC oi ?»oe vse it as a noBOfijOable ii siK-mT. >T lb? tbirvi cc ibe passant* ^asc otai frcna bcs Hamr^. — [HnssoK adopted
*--]
55 br trTHTi£. Tec xnitst kziov^ Tht.'*&jli^'s txsiSjBKH resaoRtioB of die TaaDcn revejus tbc mrtTim^ of * Y^o: sssc kacir.' vbkk is / mms! i^I yi§m^ aad
ac£ be ar naaS kar Jitam .o^.^rt £«ran« 2f tuau.
-4CX n, sc. vL] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
H^r welcome Friendly.
^^AnU I haue heard it Potnpey^ -'^-^^d am well ftudied for a liberall thanks, '^^lich I do owe you.
^om. Let me haue your hand : ^ ^3id not thinke Sir, to haue met you heere,
Ant. The beds i'th'Eafl are foft, and thanks to you, *^*liat calM me timelier then my purpofe hither : ^^r I haue gained by^t.
Cafar. Since I faw you laft, ther's a change vpon you. Pom. Well, I know not, "M^hat counts harfh Fotune call's vpon my face. But in my bofome (hall fhe neuer come. To make my heart her vaffaile. Lep. Well met heere.
Pant. I hope fo LepiduSj thus we are agreed : I craue our compofion may be written And feal'd betweene vs,
Ca/ar. That's the next to do. Pom. Weele feaft each other, ere we part, and lett's Draw lots who fhall begin. Ant. That will I Pompey. Pompey. No Anthony take the lot : but firft or laft ,
147 58
60
6S
70
75
80
63. [They take hands. Coll. ii.
65. 7*i*tf/] KwV^ Words.
66. I haue,„byt'\ Ff, Rowe, Cap. Dyce, Wh. Glo. Cam. Sta. rve,,,by it
i,+. / have.,, by it Var. '73 et
67. Two lines, ending last ... you Howe et seq.
thef^s\ F,. tktris F^F^, Sing. Then is Rowe et cet.
69. €CUHis\ change Gould.
harpi\ hard F^F^, Rowe, + , Var.
•73.
FotuHe'\ F,.
70. Jhall Jhe'\Jhe JhallY ^ ^^ Rowe,+, Var. »73.
71. hervaJfa%U'\avaJfaileY^, avajfal FjF^, Rowe, Pope, Han.
74. compofi(m\ compofition Ff. tnay'\ my F^.
77. Utt'i\ let us Cap. Varr. Mai. Ran. Steev. Varr. Knt, Coll. Hal.
78. lots^ lots f Pope i.
79. will /] / will Theob. ii, Warb. Johns. Var. '73.
80-82. No,„there'\ Ff, Sta. Lines end, lot : ... cookery ... Casar ... there, Rowe, + , Cam. Ktly. first.,. cookery,., Oesar,,, there. Cap. Glo. et cet
80. No'l No, noble Cap. Anthony] Antony ^ no; Words. take"] take we Steev. conj.
60. a liberall thanks] We still say, a hundred thanks, or a thousand thanks, 69. What counts harsh Fotune cast's] Warburton : Metaphor from making marks or lines in casting accounts in arithmetic. 76. That's the next to do] See Abbott, § 405, for ellipses after will and is.
148 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc. vi.
your fine Egyptian cookerie (hall haue the fame, I haue 8i
heard that lulius Ca/ar^gve:vf fat with feafting there,
Anth. You haue heard much.
Pom. I haue faire meaning Sir.
Ant, And faire words to them. 85
Pom. Then fo much haue I heard, And I haue heard Appolodorus carried
Eno. No more that : he did fo.
Pom. What I pray youf
Eno. A certaine Queene to Ca/ar in a Matris. 90
81. I haue\ /V^Pope, + , Dyceii, iii. 86. heartit'\ heard, or heard : Pope et
84. meaning] meanings Heath, Var. seq. heard, Mark Antony, Elze. 'Ssctscq. %%. more that] Y^, more of that Y ^ ^
85. them] it Han. et seq.
86, 87. Then,.,ha$ie heard] One line, 90. Matris] Materiee Ff, Rowe. snat*
Cap. ress Pope.
84. meaning] Heath : The reply makes it evident we should read, meanings.
87. Appolodorus carried] Ctrsar . . . thenipon secretly sent for Cleopatra which was in the country to come vnto him. She only taking Apollodorus SiciUAN of all her friends, tooke a litle bote, & went away with him in it in the night, and came and landed hard by the foote of the castle. Then hauing no other mean to come into the court without being knowen, she laid herselfe down ypon a mattresse or flockbed, which Apollodorus her friend tied and bound vp together like a bundle with a great leather thong, & so tooke her vp on his backe, and brought her thus hamperd in this fardle vnto Oxsar, in the casde gate. — North's Plutarch : Julius Casar, p. 781, ed. 1 5 95 (Lco*s Photolithograph) .
88. Eno. No more that : he did so] Orger (p. 98) : It is hard to under- stand what Enobarbus can mean by trying to suppress a topic by the words, ' no more of that,' and then continuing to narrate it. It seems as if there is a faulty dis- tribution of parts. In the next scene, line 9, the senrant describes Lepidus, * He cries out, " no more," reconciles them to his entreaty, and himself to the drink,' which justifies us in supposing that it is he who endeavours to stifle the scandal, and we sliould divide as follows : — * Lepidus. No more of that. Eno. He did so. [euide to Pompey.]* — [I think it is not impossible to imagine the action here. Pompey's allusion to * fine £g3rptian cookery ' is unfortunate, especially when he speaks of it to Anthony who is just married to Octavia; but his next reference to Julius Caesar and his feasting is worse. Anthony tries to stop him by saying * you've heard altogether too much.' Thereupon Pompey blunders still further by asserting that he really did not mean anything bad, that he had fair meanings. ' Then,' retorts Anthony, 'see that you put them in fair words.' But Pompey's ill-timed references are not yet ended, * bad is begun but worse remains behind,' — he refers to Cleopatra's first love- affair. Hereupon Enobarbus takes in the situation, and, instantly silencing Pompey, sa3r8 aside to him, ' Hush, no more of that ! ' adding ' 3rou are quite right, — Apollo- dorus did so.' * What ? ' asks the bewildered Pompey, who then recognises Eno- barbus. And thereafter the dialogue continues without obstruction. Anthony had evidently turned away abruptly ; he does not speak again during the scene. — Ed.]
ACT II, sc. vi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 149
Pom. I know thee now, how far'ft thou Souldier ? 91
Eno. Well, and well am like to do, for I perceiue Foure Feafts are toward.
Pom. Let me fhake thy hand, I neuer hated thee : I haue feene thee fight, 95
When I haue enuied thy behauiour.
Enob. Sir, I neuer lou'd you much, but I ha'praisM ye. When you haue well deferu'd ten times as much. As I haue faid you did.
Pom. Inioy thy plainnefle, lOO
It nothing ill becomes thee : Aboord my Gaily, I inuite you all. Will you leade Lords ?
All. Shew's the way, fir.
Pom. Come. Exeunt. Manet Enob .& Menas 105
Men. Thy Father Pompey would ne^re haue made this Treaty. You, and I haue knowne fir.
Enob. At Sea, I thinke.
Men. We haue Sir.
Enob. You haue done well by water. no
Men. And you by Land.
Enob. I will praife any man that will praife me, thogh 1 12
91. [To iEnob. Han. 104. All.] Caes. Ant. Lcp. Cap.
92. and.,.perceiiie\ One line, Theob. Shtvf5\ Yiy Rowe, Pope, Theob. et seq. Warb. Johns, shew us or sAaw us Han.
97. / Htu^r„.ye'} One line, Pope ct ct cet.
106. Men.] Men. [Aside] Johns, et
ha'frais'dye'\ Ff, Rowe, + , Dyce, seq.
Glo. Cam. ha'praii^dyou Wh. i. have this'\ Om. F^F^, Rowe.
prated ye ^\A, Hal, have prai^ d you 107. You.,. fir. '\ Separate line, Pope,
Cap. et cet +, Varr. Ran. Ktly.
loa Inioy'\ Enjoy Pope. [To Mnoh. Han.
loi. thee:'\ thee. Cap. et seq. 110-125. Om. Gar.
102, Aboord'\ A-boardY^. 1 12. thogh'\ F,.
97. ha'prais'd ye] Abbott (§ 236) ; Sometimes ye seems put for you when an unaccented syllable is wanted [as here].
107. You, and I haue knowne sir] Steevens: That is, been acquainted. — Abbott (§ 382) : The Elizabethan authors objected to scarcely any ellipsis, provided the deficiency could be easily supplied from the context. Thus here : * You and I have known (one another), sir.'
112. I will praise any man that will praise me] Warburton : The poet's art in deliTering this humorous sentiment (which gives so very true and natural a pic- ture of the conmierce of the world) can never be sufficiently admired. The con- fcBion could come from none but a frank and rough character, like the speaker's :
ISO
THE TRACED IE OF
[act n, sc
it cannot be denied what I haue done by Land.
Men. Nor what I haue done by water.
Enob. Yes fome-thing you can deny for your owne fafety : you haue bin a great Theefe by Sea.
Men. And you by Land.
Enob. There I deny my Land feruice :.but giue mee your hand MenaSy if our cyts had authority, heere they might take two Theeues kifTmg.
Men. All mens faces are true^ whatfomere their hands
II
119
120
are.
Enob. Face.
Men.
Enob.
Men.
But there is neuer a fayre Woman, ha's a true
No flander, they fteale hearts. We came hither to fight with you. For my part, I am forry it is tum'd to a Drink- ing. Pompey doth this day laugh away his Fortune. Enob. If he do, fure he cannot weep't backe againe. Men. Y'haue faid Sir, we look'd not for Marke An- thony heere, pray you, is he married to Cleopatra ? Enob. Ccefars Sifter is callM OSlauia. Men. True Sir, ftie was the wife of Caius Marcellus. Enob. But fhe is now the wife of Marcus Anthonius. Men. Pray'ye fir.
1 25
130
135
115. /ome'thing\ fomething F .
116. bin\ been F^. great'\ good Yiy Rowc.
1 19. our\ your F^, Rowe.
120. take'\ have F^F^, Rowe.
121. what/omere'\whai/oere¥^.what- some'er Glo. Rife, Dtn, Wh. ii. wkat/o- e're F^F^, Cam. et cct. (subs.)
123. neuer\ nire F^F^, Rowe, + . ha^s\ ¥(. kas Rowe.
125. flander^ slander ^ — Theob. Warb. slander; Cap. ct seq.
129. weepW\ Ff, Rowe, + , Sing. Dyce, Wh. Glo. Cam. Sta. Ktly. wee/f U Cap. et ceL
130. Y'haue^ Vkave Ft You've Rowe, + , Sing. Dyce, Glo. Cam. Sta. Ktly. Y'ave Wh. You have Cap. ctceL
Sir^'\ Yi, sir; Rowe, + . sir. Cap. et seq.
131. heere ^ here ; Rowe et seq.
133. Sir^ sir ; Cap. et seq. (subs.)
1 34. Jhe is now] now/he is F^F^, Rowe, + , Cap. Van. Ran.
135. Pra/ye Jir.] Pray ye Sir. F,. Pray ye. Sir. F^F^, Rowe. Pray you, sir, — Cap. Pray you, sir? Varr. Mai. Ran. Steev. Varr. Coll. Wh. Pray ye. Sir? Pope, + , Sing. Dyce, Glo. Cam. Sta. Hal. Ktly.
and the moral lesson insinuated under it, that flattery can make its way through the most stubborn manners, deserves our serious reflection.
121. All mens faces are true] Compare, * There's no art To find themind*s con- atraction in the face.' — Macbeth, I, iv, 1 1.
125. No slander] Collucr : That is, what you say is no slander ; they steal hearts.
ACT n, sc. vi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 151
Enob. 'Tis true. 136
Men. Then is Cafar and he, for euer knit together.
Enob. If I were bound to Diuine of this vnity, I wold not Prophefie fo.
Men. I thinke the policy of that purpofe, made more 140 in the Marriage, then the loue of the parties .
Enob. I thinke fo too. But you (hall finde the band tiiat feemes to tye their friendfliip together, will bee the very ftrangler of their Amity : 06lauia is of a holy, cold, and (till conuerfation. 145
Men. Who would not haue his wife fo ?
Eno. Not he that himfelfe is not fo : which is Marke Jbtthony : he will to his Egyptian di(h againe : then (hall the fighes of 06lauia blow the fire vp in Ccefar^ and ( as I faid before) that which is the ftrength of their Amity, 150 Ihall proue the immediate Author of their variance. An- thony will vfe his affeflion where it is, Hee married but his occafion heere.
Men. And thus it may be. Come Sir, will you aboord? I haue a health for you. 155
Enob. I (hall take it fir : we haue vs'd our Throats in Egypt
Men. Come, let's away. Exeunt. 158
\yj , together,'\ together ? Qx^. \\, \^\. aboord'\ a-boordY ^. a-boardY ^,
140. policy\ poliey F^. aboard Rowe.
\^i^ Jlrangler\ftrangerYi, estranger 155. I,,. healt h'] IVe have healths Gzx.
Rowe. 156. it^ 'em Gar.
150. Amity\ unity Elze.
137. Then is Csesar and he, for euer knit together.] Collier (ed. ii) : We point this line with a note of interrogation, because Menas must intend to ask the question, whether it be so ; if not, he contradicts himself in his next speech, where he asserts that the union was one of more convenience than love. He asks Eno- barbus whether Csesar and Anthony are for ever united by the marriage, and Eno- barbus replies in the negative, which Menas immediately confirms by his opinion, ' I think, the policy of that purpose,' etc. — [In his Third Edition^ Collier aban- doned this note of interrogation.]
145. conuersation] Murray {N.E.D, 6): Manner of conducting oneself in the world or in society; behaviour, mode of life. 1552 Bk, Com, Prayer, Ordin, Piref., 'A man of vertuous conuersation, and wythoute cryme.' l6xi Bible, Ps, I, 33 : To him that ordereth his conuersation aright
153. occasion] Schmidt {Lex. s. v, 4) Need, want, necessity.
152
THE TRACED IE OF
[act u, sc. viL
{Scene ^//.]
Mufocke playcs. Enter two or three Seruants with a Banket.
I Heere they^l be man : fome o'th'their Plants are ill
Scene V. Rowe. Scene VII. Pope et seq. Om. Kemble.
Pompey's Galley. Rowe. Under a Pavilion on Deck, a Banquet set out. Cap.
2. Banket] Banquet. F^F^.
3 etc. i] I ser. Rowe.
3. they I be man] they eome Gar. be man :] F,. be^ mam F F . 6e anon Lloyd (A^. <5r* Qu, VII, xi, 82.) o'th'/heir] & their Ff. l,^. ill rooted] ill-rooied Var. '73. unrooted Gould.
2. Enter, etc.] Frkytag (p. 235) : One of the most beautiful ensemble scenes of Shakespeare is the [present] banquet scene. It contains no chief part of the action, and is essentially a situation scene, a thing not occurring frequently in the tragic part of the action in Shakespeare. But it receives a certain significance, because it is at the close of the Second Act, and also stands in a place demanding eminence, especially in this piece, in which the preceding political explanations make a varie- gated and animated picture very desirable. The abundance of little characterising traits which are united in this scene, their close condensation, above all, the technical arrangement, are admirable. The Scene is introduced by a short conversation among servants, as is frequently the case in Shakespeare, in order to ptrovide for the setting of the tables and the arrangement of the furniture on the stage. The Scene itself is in three parts. The first part presents the haughty utterances of the reconciled Tri- umvirs and the pedantry of the drunken simpleton, Lepidus, to whom the servants have already referred ; the second, in terrible contrast, is the secret interview of Pompey and Menas ; the third, introduced by the bearing out of the drunken Lepidus, is the climax of the wild Bacchanalia and rampant drunkenness. The connecting of the three parts, as Menas draws Pompey aside, as Pompey again in the company of Lepidus, resuming, continues the carouse, is quite worthy of notice. Not a word in the whole Scene is without its use and significance ; the poet perceives every moment the condition of the individual figures, and of the accessory persons ; eadi takes hold of the action eflfectively ; for the manager, as well as for the rdles, the whole is adapted in a masterly way. From the first news of Antony across the Nile, — through which the image of Cleopatra is introduced even into this scene, — and the simple remark of Lepidus, ' You have strange serpents there,' through which an impression is made on the mind of the hearer that prepares for Oeopatra's death by a serpent's sting, to the last words of Antony, * Good ; give me your hand, sir,' in which the intoxicated man involuntarily recognizes the superiority of Augustus Caesar, and even to the following drunken speeches of Pompey and Enobarbus, everything is like fine chiseled work on a firmly articulated metal frame. A comparison of this scene with the close of the banquet act in The Piccolomini is instructive. — Corson (p. 285) : Of Pompey's entertainment, made by Shakespeare so dramatically impor- tant a scene in the Play, Plutarch simply says, *and there' (meaning on his galley) 'he welcomed them and made them great cheer' But Shakespeare, knowing that wine reveals as well as disguises, that in vino est Veritas, made this banquet the means of characterising and contrasting the Triumvirs, and the poor relic of republi-
ACT II, sc. viL] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 153
i-ooted already, the lead winde i'th'world wil blow them downe. 5
2 Lepidiis is high Conlord.
I They haue made him drinke Almes drinke. 7
6 etc. 2] 2 ser. Rowe. 7. Almes drinke\ F^F^. Alms drink
6-21. Om. Gar. F^, Rowe» Pope, almsdrini Sing, alms-
6. Atg^A Conlord'] high colourd F,. -drink Theob. ct cet. -colour' d FjF^.
Rome, Sextus Pompeius. This scene exhibits that Shakespearian irony which plajrs so freely with all things, regardless of all conventional ideas of high and low, ^jeat and small.
2. a Banket] Malone : A banquet frequently signified what we now call a des-
; and from the following dialogue the word must here be understood in that
3. 001116 o'th'their Plants] Johnson : * Plants,' besides its common meaning, is used for iht foot, from the Latin. — Steevens: So, in Lupton's A thousand NeUsble things, etc. : ' Grind Mustard with Vineger, and rub it well and hard on the plants or soles of the feete: [and it will helpe and quicken forgetfull persons.' — 1627, The Third Booke, No. 30.]
6. high Conlord] This gross misprint which was corrected in the Second Folio, GouiJ[> (p. 45) accepts as the genuine word, and asserts that * high-coloured ' is ' one of the most absurd alterations' he *eyer met with.' He then goes on to explain that Lepidus ' was one of the triumviri or conlords, and this is the subject of con- venation.' Many years ago I regretfully announced that my patience was exhausted by the ignorance and presumption of Zachary Jackson, Andrew Becket, Lord Chbdworth, and £. H. Seymo17R, and that thereafter, save in exceptional cases, DO space on these pages should be sacrificed to their notes. After the foregoing note on ' conlord ' would a single voice be raised in censure if George Gould be idded to the list ?->Ed.
7. Almes drinke] Warburton : A phrase, amongst good fellows, to signify that Uqnor of another's share which his companion drinks to ease him. But it satirically alludes to Oesar and Antony' s admitting him into the Triumvirate, in order to take off firom themselves the load of envy. — Collier (ed. ii) : Meaning wine that did ooC properly belong to his share, but which each had contributed, in order to intoxi- cate Lefndus. — Schmidt (Z^jt.): It evidently means here the leavings, — Murray (N, E.D, 4. b.) : The remains of liquor reserved for alms-people. — [Apparently, this is the only known instance of the use of this phrase in the language. It is the aoUtary example furnished by Murray. Everyone is entitled, therefore, to give it any meaning that in his opinion harmonises with the eternal fitness of things. To me, Gillier's definition seems the closest. Just as an alms-penny means, as Murray says, ' a penny given in charity or as a gratuity,' so an * alms-drink ' may be a drink that is given as a charity or as a gratuity. Inasmuch as there is here no question of charity, we may take it as a gratuity, and a gratuity bestowed by more than one. Lepidus then drank not only his own share, but ' they ' plied him with wine, which, like the contents of a poor-box, was the result of many gratuitous contributions. — Ed.]
154 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc viL
2 As they pinch one another by the difpofition, hee 8
8. difpofUion\ doing reason Kinnear.
8. As they pinch one another by the disposition] Warburton : A phnse eqaiTalent to that now in use, of ' touching one in a sore place.' — Capell (i» JS) ^ This signifies, attack for their foibles, the foibles each is disposed to. — Collier (ed. ii) : This seems to refer to the sign they give each other regarding 'the disposition' of Lepidus to drink. — Staunton: 'By the disposition' is a very questionable expression. We ought perhaps to read, ' by the disputation^* that is, in the contra- versy. — The Cowden-Clarkes : That is, * as they try each other*s temper by banter,' * as they gall or plague each other's sensitiveness by their mutual taunts.' Schmidt (Lex.) here defines ' pinch ' as ' to make ridiculous, to serve a trick.' ' By the dis- position ' means, he also says, ' by their foible,' adding, ' a servant's speech.' [I find it, however, a little difficult to combine the two definitions into a coherent and appli- cable paraphrase of the whole sentence. Is it : they serve one another a tiick by their foibles? — Ed.] — ^J. Crosby (Skakespeariana, Feb. 1884, p. 122)1 The servant has said [in efiect], they have made him drink not only his own wine, but a share of theirs also. And now as they dispose of and set before him, their full goblets to quaff, they pinch one another, or wink significantly, at the imposition they are prac- tising on the good-natured reveler. And this harmonises with the context, 'he cries, " No more ; " reconciles them to his entreaty, and himself to the drink.' ' Not another drop, gentlemen, I beseech you ; I am not so well as I should be, but I'll ne'er out ; ' to all of which they assent ; and he forthwith proceeds to drain the cups, that raise 'the greater war between him and his discretion.' I formerly thought we should read ' as they pinch one another at the imposition. But the explanation I have given seems sufficient — Thiselton (p. 15) : In order to ply Lepidus suf- ficiently with liquor and at the same time keep sober themselves, his companions give him ' Almes drinke,' thereby stinting themselves (* pinch one another by the dis- position ' ). By this means, he has their shares as well as his own, and, being satisfied with such good measure, and, perhaps, feeling some awkwardness at drinking alone in company, he cries out ' No more,' f. e, ' enough.' They, having so far gained their object, comply, while he proceeds to drink the wine that has been so served to him. . . . The passage has been confused by . . . the assumption that 'reconciles' necessarily imports the inferiority of the wine served to Lepidus, when it probably indicates a slight touch of conscience on his part at continuing to drink alone. 'One another' is certainly used somewhat loosely for themselves, but it must be borne in mind that it is a servant who speaks. — Deighton : This seems to mean, as they ply each other hard with the mischievous desire of seeing one another under the table, Lepidus, affecting to have had as much as he can carry, cries out ' enough ; ' yet all the same, while getting them to accept his excuses, finds it possible to quiet his scruples against further indulgence ; though perhaps *■ 'twere to consider too curi- ously to consider' the servant's speech as having any very exact sense. — [If 'one another' can be regarded as the same as ihemsetvesy Thiselton' s interpretation seems to be the most plausible. The excuse, first suggested by Schmidt, for any looseness of expression — that it is the servants who are speaking — is hardly applicable when we find them presently referring, as Rolfe and Deighton assume, to the * Ptolomaic sys- tem of astronomy,' and using a term of astrology. But still, letting that excuse pass for what it is worth, the idea that by disposing of an extra allowance to Lepidus they
ACT II, sc. vu.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 155
cries out, no more; reconciles them to his entreatie, and himfelfe to'thMrinke. 10
1 But it raifes the greatet warre betweene him & his difcretion.
2 Why this it is to haue a name in great mens Fel- lowfhip : I had as liue haue a Reede that will doe me no feruice, as a Partizan I could not heaue. 15
I To be callM into a huge Sphere, and not to be feene to moue in't, are the holes where eyes fhould bee, which pittifully difafter the cheekes. 18
9. no mare] As quotation, Theob. et 14. /iW] live F,. /uve F^F^. /it/ aeq. Cap. et seq.
10. /o*tA'1 to tJC FjF^. 18. pittifully] pittiJUy F,.
11. greatet] F,.
atinted one another, is at least a more digniBed explanation than that of supposing that they pinched each other, or tipped one another the wink, over the success of their ' little game.' Schmidt's paraphrase, * foibles/ which he probably derived from Capell without exactly comprehending it, is to me, whether in Schmidt or Capell, uxiintelligible. — Ed. ]
15. PartizAn] Murray (TV. E. Z>. s, v. sb^) : Adopted from the i6th century French, partizane ; an adaptation of Italian, partesana. The origin of the Italian word is disputed. ... A military weapon used (under this name) by footmen in the l6th and 17th centuries, consisting of a long-handled spear, the blade having one or more lateral cutting projections, variously shaped, so as sometimes to pass into the gisarme and the halberd.
16-18. To be call'd into a huge Sphere, . . . pittifiilly disaster the cheekes] Johnson : This speech seems to be mutilated ; to supply the deficiencies is impossi- ble, but perhaps the sense was originally approaching to this : < To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen to move in it,' is a very ignominious state ; 'great oflEices' 'are the holes where eyes should be, which (if eyes be wanting), pitifully disaster the cheeks.' — M. Mason : The thought, though miserably expressed, appears to be this : That a man called into a high sphere, without being seen to move in it, is a sight as unseemly as the holes where the eyes should be, without the eyes to fill them. — Malone: I do not believe a single word has been omitted. The being called into a huge sphere, and not being seen to move in it, these two circumstances, says the speaker, resemble sockets in a face where eyes should be [but are not], which empty sockets, or holes without eyes, pitifully disfigure the countenance. * The sphere in which the eye moves ' is an expression which Shakespeare has often used. Thus, in his 119th Sonnet: * How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted,' etc. Again, in Hamlet: * Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres* — RoLFE here finds in ' sphere ' an ' allusion to the old Ptolomaic astronomy, accord- ing to which the heavenly bodies were set in hollow crystal spheres, by the revolu- tion of which they were carried round.' And 'disaster,* he observes, • was an astro- logical term and is probably suggested here by the figure that precedes.' [Both of these suggestions are, to me, somewhat doubtful. ' Sphere ' and < disaster ' had been
156 THE TRACED IE OF [act ii, sc. viL
A Sennet founded. Enter Ccefary Anthony^ Pompey^ Lepidus^ Agrippa^ MecenaSy 20
EnobarbuSy Menes , with other Captaines.
Ant. Thus do they Sir : they take the flow o'th'Nyle 22
19. A Sennet founded.] A Sonnet 22. Ant] Ant. [to Cses.] Cap. Mai.
founded. F^F^. Trumpets. Rowe. et seq.
21. Menes,] F,.
so long used, I think, in their figurative sense, as in the two quotations given bj Malone, that all thought of their origin had been lost. Of course this does not applj to 'music of the spheres' or 'discord in the spheres' and the like. Moreover, it seems to me hardly Shakespearian to put such learned allusions into the mouths of servants. Deighton agrees, however, with Rolfe and quotes him with approval. — Ed.]
19. A Sennet] Nares: A word chiefly occurring in the stage-directions of the old plays, and seeming to indicate a particular set of notes on the trumpet or comet, different from a flourish. ' Trumpets sound a florish, and then a sennate.' — Decker's SatiromasHx [p. 222, ed. Pearson]. In Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of Malta, V, ii, it is written synnet^ and Mr Sympson has explained it, i, e. ' flourish of trum- pets.' But we see from Decker's play that they were different It appears to have been a technical term of the musicians who played those instruments.
20. Enter Caesar, etc.] Knight (Supp, Notice, p. 357) : This scene is one of those creations which render Shakspere so entirely above, and so utterly unlike, other poets. Every line is a trait of character. Here we see the solemn, ' unmeritable ' Lepidus; the cautious Cscsar; the dashing, clever, genial Antony. His eye dances; his whole visage ' doth cream and mantle ; ' the comers of his mouth are drawn down, as he hoaxes Lepidus about the crocodile with the most admirable fooling. The revelry grows louder and louder, till 'the Egyptian bacchanals' close the scene. Who can doubt that Antony bears < the holding ' the loudest of all ? TTiese are not the lords of the world of French tragedy. Grimm, who, upon the whole, has a leaning to Shakspere, says : — ' II est assez ridicule sans doute de faire parler les valets comme les h^ros ; mais il est beaucoup plus ridicule encore de faire parler aox h^ros le langage du peuple.' To make them drunk is worse even than the worst of the ridiculous. It is impossible to define such a sin. We think, with Dogberry, it is 'flat burglary as ever was committed.'
22. they take the flow o'th'Nyle] Reed : Pliny, speaking of the Nile, says : ' How high it riseth, is known by markes and measures taken of certaine pits. The ordinary height of it is sixteen cubits. Vnder that gage the waters ouerflow not all. Aboue that stint there are a let and hinderance, by reason that the later it is ere they be fallen, and downe again. By these, the seed time is much of it spent, for that the earth is too wet. By the other there is none at all, by reason that the gpround is dry and thirsty. The prouince taketh good keep and reckoning of both, the one as well as the other ; For when it is no higher than 12 cubits, it findeih extream famine: yea, and at 13 it feeleth hunger still, 14 cubits comforts their hearts, 15 bids them take no care, but 16 affoordeth them plenty and delicious dainties. . . . And so soon as any part of the land is freed from the water, straight waies it is sowed.* — Holland's Tram, Bk. V., chap, ix, p. 98, ed. 1601. — M alone: Shakspeare seems rather to
Jkcr II, sc. vii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 157
By certaine fcales rth'Pyramid .• they know 23
By'th'height, the lownefle, or the meane : If dearth
Or Foizon follow. The higher Nilus fwels, 25
The more it promifes : as it ebbes, the Seedfman
Vpon the (lime and Ooze fcatters his graine,
And fhortly comes to Harueft.
Lep. Y'haue ftrange Serpents there ?
Anih. I Lepidus. 30
23. /cales^ fcaU Ff, Rowe, + . t/ ebhsy Yi.
24. Byth'^ F,. 29. Y'haue\ Ff. you've Rowe, + , meane: If^ mean, if Rowe ct Cap. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. you have
seq. Var. *73 et cet
26. promifes : asit ebbes,"] promifes as there /] Ff. there, Rowe ct cet.
have derived his knowledge of this fact from Leo's History of Africa, translated by John Pory, folio, 1600 : * Upon another side of the island standeth an house alone by itselfe, in the midst whereof there is a foure-square cesteme or channel of eighteen cobits deep, whereinto the water of Nilus is conveyed by a certain sluice under ground. And in the midst of the cisterne there is erected a certaine piller, which is marked and divided into so many cubits as the cisterne containeth in depth. And upon the seventeenth of June, when Nilus beginning to overflow, the water thereof conveied by the said sluce into the channel, increaseth daily. If the water reacheth only to the fifteenth cubit of the said piller, they hope for a fruitful yeere following ; but if [it ?] stayeth between the twelfth cubit and the fifteenth, then the increase of the yeere will prove but mean : if it resteth between the tenth and twelfth cubits, then it is a sign that come will be solde ten ducates the bushel.'
23. Pyramid] W. W. Lloyd {N. &* Qu. 1897, VII, xi, 283) quotes * Though palaces and pyramids do slope Their heads to their foundations.' — Macb, IV, i, 56; the present passage, and * rather make My Countries high pyramides my Gibbet.' — V, ii, 71, and then from them infers that by < pyramid,' Shakespeare * understands not a proper pyramid, but an obelisk.' It is certainly not impossible ; both terms were used vagnely, in accordance with the conception in the popular mind of the objects them- selves. Thus, for instance, Cotgrave defines an *■ obelisque ' : ' a great, high, and square stone, broad at the bottome, and lessening towards the top like a Pyramides.' —Ed.
24. or the meane] Steevens : That is, the middle.
25. Foizon] Bradley (N.E.D.)-. Adopted from Old Yrtuch foison, fuson^ Provencal foison, regular phonetic descendant from popular Latin fusidn-em for Latin fOsidn-em, a pouring, noun of action formed on fundire to pour. I . Plenty, abundance, a plentiful supply.
28. And shortly] The Cambridge Edition records an Anonjrmous conjecture : • And '/ shortly,' which is highly probable.
28. Haruest] Corson (p. 287) : There's an air of solidity in this speech, which indicates a consciousness on the part of the speaker, that he has imbibed quite freely, and therefore assumes a solid tone of speech. — [Or it may be merely the assurance of one who speaks of that whereof he knows. Anthony befittingly assumes to be an authority on things Egyptian. — Ed.]
158 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act n. sc. viL
Lep.YoMT Serpent of Egypt, is bred now of your mud 31
by the operation of your Sun : fo is your Crocodile.
Ant. They are fo.
Pom. Sit, and fome Wine : A health to Lepidus.
Lep. I am not fo well as I fhould be : 35
But He ne're out.
Enob. Not till you haue flept : I feare me youT bee in till then.
Lep. Nay certainly, I haue heard the Ptolomies Pyra- mifis are very goodly things : without contradiction I 40
32. your Sun] the Sun Ff, Rowe i, 35. be .•] be. Cap. et seq.
Cap. 37, 38. [Aside. Cap.
34. Sit, and] F,, Johns. Var. '73. 39. Ptolomies] Ptohmys Rowe, + . Sir, and Y^^, SirraA Rowe, ■¥. Sit,— Pto/omies' Cap. ei stq.
and Cap. et cet. 39, 40. Pyrami/!s] Ff, Rowe,+. Pyr-
Wine .'] wine / Rowe. amides Rann conj. pyramises Cap. et
35, 36. Prose, Han. Cap. Var. '78 et seq.
seq. 40. /] Om. F,.
35. well] Om. Theob. ii, Warb.
31, 32. Your Serpent . . . your mud . . . your Sun . . . 3roar Crocodile] If any student desires other instances of this idiom, common at this day, he may find them in Abbott, § 221.
35. I am not so well, etc.] Lepidus takes the * health' literally and replies that he is not very well, but he will not on that account leave the circle, which is what he means, I suppose, by * 1*11 ne'er out; * Enobarbus, in an Aside, perverts it, however, into meaning that he will not be out of his debauch until he can sleep it off. — Ed.
39, 40. Pyramisis] Malone : Pyratnis for pyramid was in common use in our author's time. So, in Bishop Corbet's Poems, 1647 : * Nor need the chancellor boast, whose pyramis Above the host and altar reared is.* From this word Shakspeare formed the English plural, pyramises, to mark the indistinct pronunciation of a man nearly intoxicated, whose tongue is now beginning to < split what it speaks.* — [This suggestion of Malone, that the pronunciation 'pyramises' indicates the fumes of wine, has been silently adopted by several commentators since his day. There is not the smallest objection to allowing Lepidus to reach the utmost limits of intoxication, but I do not see that in the present speech he has advanced as far as Malone would have him. First, he does not say * pyramises ; ' this plural form Capell unwarrantably puts in his mouth. He says * pyramisis,' which, if he shared Bishop Corbet's appar- ent belief that pyramis is an English singular, is no bad attempt to form a r^ular English plural ; certainly not so bad as to say that his tongrue splits what it speaks. Secondly, Shakespeare does not depend on bad spelling to add comicality to language. All spelling in his day was too lawless. This does not apply, of coarse, to dialectic words like * chill ' for I will, and the like. If Lepidus' s tongue were too * thick,' in modem, not Shakespearian, speech, to pronounce pyramides, how comes it that immediately afterward he pronounces without difficulty a word quite as hard : 'contra- diction ' ? Lastly, in the very speech in which Caesar says his ' own tongue splits,'
CTii, sc. vii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 1 59
aue heard that 41
Menus. Pampey^di word.
Pomp, Say in mine eare^what is't.
Men. Forfake thy feate I do befeech thee Captaine, jid heare me fpeake a word. 45
Pant. Forbeare me till anon. WhifPers vis Eare.
his Wine for Lepidus.
Lep. Whar manner o'thing is your Crocodile ?
Ant. It is (hap'd fir like it felfe, and it is as broad as it ath bredth ; It is iufl fo high as it is, and mooues with it 50
nme organs. It liues by that which nourifheth it, and le Elements once out of it, it Tranfmigrates.
Lep. What colour is it of?
Ant. Of it owne colour too.
Lip' Tis a ftrange Serpent. 55
43. [Aside. Rowe. 46. Whifpen] Whifper F,F^, Rowe.
4»<^6. Pompey...aiftfif.] Aside, Cap. 48. Wkar\ F,.
43. m'/.) v^tf FjF^ ct seq. 50, %\. it <rwne\ F„ Sta. Glo. Cam.
44. [Aside. Johns. KUy. it^i cwn F^F^. its <ntm Rowe et /eaU] feate ¥^, cet
45. a uwrtf] Om. Steev. conj. 54. if] F^ Su. Glo. Cam. Ktlj. it's
46. Pordeare} For F^F^, Rowe. F F^, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Warb. its 46^ 47. One line. Cap. Varr. Mai. Ran. Han. et cet.
is no word misspelt, unless it be spUets itself, which is probably merely phonetic, id not a misspelling. See the regular plural, 'pyramides,' in V, ii, 71. — Ed.] 48. Whar] This word is clearly thus spelled in my copy of the First FoHo^ and so a little less clearly in Staunton's photo-zincographic reproduction. But it is Vkai in the Reprint of 1807 and in Booth's most accurate Reprint, as it is also, lesomably, in the copy which the Cambridge Editors collated ; they make no lie iA any variation. This is trivial enough, and noteworthy merely as additional roof that copies of the First Folio vary. — Ed.
50^ 51, 54. it owne] According to The Bible Word- Book (Eastwood and Wright) far it is used in the Folio fourteen times for i/s ; Murray ( A^. £, D. s. v. Its) saya %een times; its occurs ten times, whereof five (spelled ifs) are in The Wintet^s Tale, he instances specified, in The Bible Word- B 00k ^ are given in a note on Wint, Tate, iiy 183, of this ed. Its does not occur in the Authorised Version of the Bible, >II. It in place of its occurs in Levit, xxv, 5, where is the same phrase as in the lesent passage : ' That which groweth of it owne accord ; ' this was changed to ' its wn' in an edition of the Bible printed, according to Murray {^loc. cit,), in 1660. [ilton, who died in 1674, does not use its. Abbott (§ 228) says that it is * occasion- I7' found for iVx, 'when a child is mentioned, or when anyone is contemptuously K>ken of as a child.' If this be one of the * occasional ' instances, it is not without caning that Anthony now uses it to Lepidus. 52. the Elements] See note on III, ii, 47.
i6o
THE TRACED IE OF
[act II, sc vii.
Ant. *Tis fo, and the teares of it are wet
Ccef. Will this defcription (atisfie him ?
AnL With the Health that Pompey giues him^elfe he is a very Epicure.
Pomp. Go hang fir, hang : tell me of that f Away : Do as I bid you. Where's this Cup I call'd for ?
Men. If for the fake of Merit thou wilt heare mee, Rife from thy ftoole.
Pom. I thinke th*art mad .• the matter ?
Men. I haue euer held my cap off to thy Fortunes.
Pom. Thou haft feruM me with much faith : what's elfe to fay ? Be iolly Lords.
Anth. Thefe Quicke-fands LepiduSy Keepe ofi^ them for you finke.
Men. Wilt thou be Lord of all the world ?
Pom. What faift thou ?
Men. Wilt thou be Lord of the whole world ? That's twice.
Pom. How (hould that be f
56
60
65
70
74
57-59. \VilL.,Epicure\ Aside, Cap. 58. HeaUh\ healths HaD.
60. Pomp.] Pomp. [To Menas aside] Johns.
61. Mm] the Ff, Rowe, + , Varr. Ran. 62-67. V f^ ••• /^y'\ Aside, Cap.
Gar.
63. thy^ the F^, Rowe, Pope.
64. M'tfr/] Ff. thou'rt Rowe et seq. [Rises and walks aside. Johns. fnad\\ mad. Johns, ct seq. (subs.)
65. I haue'\ I*ve Dyce ii, iii.
66. [To Menas.] Johns.
66, 67. Tkmi..,/ay f'^ As one line, Han. Cap. et seq.
69. off^ them"] off them y Ff.
for\ ^fore Theob. Warb. Johns. Var. '73, Coll. iii. or Walker ( CrU. ii, 321), Dyce ii, iii.
72-98. Wilt thou,., it more'\ Aside, Cap.
72, 73. Wilt...twice\ As one line, Rowe et seq. (subs.)
74. How'\ Prithee^ haw Words.
Jhould'\ shall Rowe, 4, Varr. Mai. Ran.
57. Will this, etc.] The Text, Notes show the Asides in these and the following lines.
60. teU me of that ?] This is purposely vague, and refers to what Menas had whispered * in*s eare.'
65. held my cap off to thy Fortunes] Compare, *my demerites May speake (vnbonnetted) to as proud a Fortune,* etc. — Othello^ I, ii, 25, of this edition.
68. Quicke -sands] Voss : Antony refers to the cup of wine, which Pompey had ordered for Lepidus, and was now handed to him.
69. for you sinkc] If a choice must be made between Theobald's ^fore and Walker's or^ the latter seems preferable. But I doubt the necessity of any choice. Staunton prefers 'fore, and also at III, xiii, 78, where he refers to the present passage as parallel. — £d.
ACT n. sc ToL] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA
l6l
Men. But entertaine it, and though thou thinke me poore, I am the man will giue thee all the world.
Pom. Haft thou drunke well.
Men. No Pompey^ I haue kept me from the cup, Thou art if thou dar'ft be, the earthly loue : What ere the Ocean pales, or side incliiq)es. Is thine, if thou wilt ha't.
Pom. Shew me which way ?
Men. Thefe three World-lharers, thefe Competitors Are in thy veiTell. Let me cut the Cable, And when we are put off, fall to their throates : All there is thine.
Pom. Ah, this thou fhouldft haue done.
75
80
85 87
75, 76. BMi.,.'worU'\ Lines end, and ,.. man... world. Han. Steer. Varr. Ktly. ftr...jiMJ*...iBwr//P6pe, Warb. et seq.
75. tntertaine it'\ enter into it Anon, ap. Cam.
andtko9^k'\ and Altkomgk Han. Steer. Varr. KUy.
tAou] you Pope ii, Theob. Warb. Johns. Varr. Ran.
77. wfi/.] F^ Cap. Ran. well? F,F^ Rowe et ceL
78. nv/J Yt, Rowe i. cup, Rowe ii
et seq.
79. Tkonart'l Tkat F^F^. dar'Ji] darft F^.
81. iaV] Ff, Rowe,+, Cap. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. have it Varr. Bial. Ran. Movent Steev. et cet.
82. way /] way, F^F^ et seq.
86. there trj then is Southern MS ap. Coll. Pope, + , Cap. Varr. Ran. Coll. ii» iii (MS), Dyce ii, iii, Ktly. fJkeirs is Steev. conj. tAere is, is Ed. conj.
77. Hast thou drunke well] Capbll (i, 36, reading «Thou hast'): A sar- castical affirmation of Pompej's ; and no interrc^tion, as the modems have made it, by patting a mark after * tveli* which they did not find in the two elder Folio's ; whose only mistake, in this instance, was — a transposition of 'Aasf ' and * /Aou/ — [It would not be difficult to express sarcasm by a question as well as by an affirmation, and the text of the Folio be still preserved. — Ed.]
80. the Ocean pales] Should any poet nowadays venture on using this verb in connection with the ocean he would be, it is to be feared, severely criticised. But as in the beginning of this scene we had to pardon some expressions because uttered by servants, so here point device phrases are hardly to be expected from a pirate. — Ed.
83. Competitors] The same word is used in I, iv, 5 ; V, i, 52; see I, i, 21.
84. Let me cut the Cable] See Plutarch, Appendix,
86. All there is thine] Steevens : This may mean, all in the vessel, — Rolfe: ' There' may be accompanied with a gesture towards the company they have left. — [Pope's specious then has beguiled excellent editors. Rolfe' s interpretation is, to me, just; * there ' is spoken deiicrijujc. (This pedantic word will, I trust, be pardoned. I know no English word precisely equivalent ; demonstratively comes, perhaps, the nearest, but this could be applied to a clenched fist, to which the Greek word, with iU implied wave of the hand, would be, I think, quite inapplicable. )— Ed.]
IX
l62 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act ii, sc viL
And not haue fpoke on't. In me 'tis villanie, 88
In thee/t had bin good feruice : thou mud know^
'Tis not my profit that does lead mine Honour : 90
Mine Honour it^ Repent that ere thy tongue.
Hath fo betraide thine a£le. Being done vnknowne,
I fhould haue found it afterwards well done,
But mufl condemne it now : deflft^and drinke.
Men. For this, He neuer follow 95
Thy paul'd Fortunes more.
Who feekes and will not take, when once 'tis offered, Shall neuer finde it more.
Pom. This health to Lepidus.
Ant. Beare him afhore, 100
He pledge it for him Potnpey.
Eno. Heere's to thee Menus. 102
88. fpoke\fpoken F^F^, Rowe, + . Mtj, ,„more ; „*offef* d^ ,„more. Pope ct tfi»*/] of til Cap. Varr. Ran. seq.
89. ikee.UI ihet^ it Varr. Mai. Ran. 96. paul'd^pairdYf^, Steev. Varr. Ktly. 98. [Joins the company. Cap.
feruice .•] service, Johns, et seq. 100. afkore'\ afhore F,. afkoar F F ..
(snhs.) ashoar Rowe, Pope.
91. it^ Repent'\ is. Repent Ff, Rowe. [to an attendant Cap.
95. [looking contemptibly after him. 100, 10 1. ^Air^...Pompey] One line. Cap. Gar. Pope et seq.
95-98. For this,,. it morel Lines end,
91. Mine Honour it] Abbott (§ 385) : That is, {But it is), Mine honour (that doth lead) it (t. e. profit).
96. paul'd] Murray (A^. £, D, s. v. Palled, past participle from PcUl which is apparently aphetic from Appal, to which the early senses are parallel) : Enfeebled, weakened, impaired.
97. 98. Who seekes . • • neuer finde it more] Vischer (p. 103, footnote) recalls Schiller's apothegm : Was da von der Minute ausgeschlagen, das bringt dir keine Ewigkeit mrriick.
loi. He pledge it] : < The English,' says Master Estienne Perlin {Description </' AngUterre, 1 558), < are great drunkards (<* fort grands 3rvrongnes ") ; for if an Eng- lishman would treat you, he will say in his language, vis dring a quarta rim oim [ ? oin] gas^im oim hespaignol oim mahoysi, that is, will you drink a quart of Gas- coigne wine, another of Spanish, and another of Malmsy ? In drinking or eating they will say to you above a hundred times, drind iou, which is, I drink to you ; and you should answer them in their language, iplaigiou, which means, I pledge you. If you would thank them in their language, you must say, god tanque artelay. When they are drunk, they will swear by blood and death that you shall drink all that is in your cup, and will say to you thus : bigod sol drind iou agoud oin.^ — Rye, England as seen by Foreigners, p. 190. Not very appropriate, but amusing. — Ed.
ACT II, sc. vii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 163
Men. £no6ar6us,wc\comc. 103
Pom. Fill till the cup be hid.
Eno. There's a ftrong Fellow Menas. 105
Men. Why ?
Eno. A beares the third part of the world man : feeft not?
Men. The third part, then he is drunk : would it were
all, that it might go on wheeles. 1 10
Eno. Drinke thou : encreafe the Reeles.
104. [Lepidus born off. Cap. Sta. Ktly. A Glo. Cam. He Pope et
105. ftrong\ftrang F,. ftrange F^F^, cct
Rowe. 107. world man:"] world, man!
[Pointing to Lep. Rowe. Rowe.
107-1 10. A., ,allf ] Prose, Ff, Rowe, + , A^A] ^^^^^ ^^^^ Ktly.
Knt, Dyce, Glo. Cam. Lines end, man 109. then he u] Ff, HaL Ktly, Coll.
.,»noif,..allf Johns. Var. '73. bears,,. iii. /i/if f> Rowe et cet
M//...tf^, Cap. et cet. no. that ...wheeUs\ Separate line,
107. ^] Ff, Rowe, Knt. ^A Dyce, Theob. et scq.
107, 108. seest not?] Walker ( Vers, 291) : Qu. ^seist not?' yet the uncon- txacted seht seems strange in Shakespeare. — [Singer silently adopted this sag- gestion.]
109. then he is drunk] There seems to be no necessity to adopt Rowe's omis- sion of ' he.' Had there been an interrogation mark after ' The third part,' or even a dash, would anyone have suggested a change ? — Ed.
no. it might go on wheeles] M alone: The World runs on Wheels is the title of a pamphlet by Taylor, the Water- Poet.
III. encrease the Reeles] Steevens: As the word — reel was not, in our author's time, employed to signify a dance or revel, and is used in no other part of his works as a substantive, it is not impossible that the passage before us, which seems designed as a continuation of the imagery suggested by Menas, originally stood thus : ' and grease the wheels J* — DoucE : Here is some corruption, and unless it was originally revels, the sense is irretrievable. In all events Steevens has erred in sajring that < reel was not in our author's time, employed to signify a dance.' [Here- upon Douce gives a quotation from Newes from Scotland, 1 591, wherein there is a reference to a *reill or short daunce.' See note on Macbeth, I, iii, 1 1 (of this edition), where this quotation is given in full, not, however, by Douce, but strangely enough by Steevens himself, who had evidently forgotten it. — Ed.] — Singer : Menas says < would it were all so (i.e. drunk), that it [the world] might go on wheels, t. e. turn round or change.' To which Enobarbus replies, ' Drink thou ; increase the reels^ i. e, increase its giddy course. — Schmidt (Lex.) : That is, increase the motions like those of drunken men ; used in this sense for the rh3rme's sake. — [A sporadic rhjrming couplet in a scene like the present is to me un-Shakespearian ; it is probably accidental, not intentional. Moreover, the explanations of * Reeles,' whether referring to the giddy course of the world or to the drunken gait of Menas, are to me forced. I much prefer to regard the word as a contraction of
l64 ^^^ TRAGEDIE OF [act ii, sc viL
J^» Come. 112
Pom. This is not yet an Alexandrian Feaft.
Ant. It ripen's towards it : (Irike the Veffells hoa. Heere's to Cafar. 115
Cdfar. I could well f orbear't, it's monftrous labour when I wa(h my braine^and it grow fouler.
AfU. Be a Child o'th'time. 1 18
113. noi y€t'\ noi Theob. ii, Warb. Aait f]r,...^mm,...yWiSrr. Pope et seq. Johns. 116. forbear' i'\ forbear it Pope,-*-,
114. Vefeils'^ KeiilesCxoAxj {Sk*ana, Varr. Mai. Ran. Steev. Varr. Coll. Wh. i, 123). it's] its F..
115. Heere's]T^, /Tirr^jF^F^, Rowe, II7. and^AnSmg.
Cam. Here is Pope, do. et cet. g^o^^ Sing. Ktlj. growes F,.
116. 117. I..fouler'\ Lines end,y&r- gretws F^F^ et cet
revels; the likelihood of this contraction is set forth in the note on I, iv, 7, abore. —Ed.]
114. strike the Vessells] Johnson : Try whether the casks sound as empty. — Stxbvkns : This means no more than ' chink the vessels one against the other, as a mark of our unanimity in drinking,' as we now say chink glasses, — Holt Whitb : Vessels probably mean kettU-drumSy which were beaten when the health of a person of eminence was dimnk ; immediately after we have, ' make battery to our ears with the loud musick.' They are called kettles in Hamlet: * Give me the cups ; And let the kettle to the trumpet speak.' — ^Boswell: In Fletcher's Monsieur Tkomas, we meet with a passage which leaves no doubt, as Weber has observed, that to strike the vessels means to tap them : * Home, Launce, and strike a fresh piece of wine.' — V, X. — Dycb (Gloss.) reiterates Boswell's assertion that Weber had rightly explained the meaning of ' strike ' in this line, and adds an example of its use ' with the same signification in a well-known modem poem : '* L' Avare, not using half his store. Still grumbles that he has no more; Strikes not the present tun, for fear The vintage should be bad next year." ' — Prior's Alma, C. iii. The Cowden-Clarkes while granting that ' strike ' at times means to tap, do not believe that it has this meaning here, because * Antony would hardly bid them broach more wine where Pompey is the entertainer ; and, moreover, at this stage of the entertainment there would be bo question of any one giving such an order.' They, therefore, adopt Steevens's inter- pretation. [If Shakespeare had meant that the revellers should merely clink the glasses, as in lago's song : * Let me the cannikin clink/ I doubt that he would have used so strong a word as ' strike.' As r^ards courtesy, Anthony was almost invited by Pompey to call for more wine by his com]:daint that they had not yet reached the height of an Alexandrian feast — Ed.]
1 17. and it grow fouler] Singer reads *an it grow fouler,' which, as Dyce (ed. ii) justly observes, is ' not a probable reading.'
118. a Child o'th'time] That is, submit like a child to the humour of the honr. Compare Lady Macbeth' s words (for I believe them to be hers) to her husband: * Away, and mock the time with fairest show. False face must hide what the false Heart doth know.' — I, vii, 94. Lady Macbeth and Anthony use * time ' in the same sense, that is, ' the company about you.' — £d.
ACT II. sc. vij.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
i6s
Cafar. Poffeffe it, He make anfwer / but I had rather fafl from all, foure dayes, then drinke fo much in one.
Enob, Ha my braue Emperour, (hall we daunce now the Egyptian Backenals, and celebrate our drinke ?
Pom, Let's ha't good Souldier.
Ant. Come, let's all take hands, Till that the conquering Wine hath fteep't our fenfe. In foft and delicate Lethe.
Eno, All take ha nds : Make battery to our eares with the loud Muficke, The while. He place you, then the Boy (hall fmg.
1 20
125
129
119, 120. Poffeffe... one, '\ Lines end, raiktr...one Thcob. ii, Warb. Cap. fast ... one. Han. Mai. Steev. Varr. Coll. Sing. Wb. it, ...fast... one. Johns. Varr. Ran. answer : . . .days. . .one. Knt» Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam.
119. Poffeffe f/] Possesit Han. Pledge it Kinnear. Profaee it Nichol- ion ap. Cam.
/5f] Iwi// Johns. Varr. Ran. maJke"] Om. Han.
121, 122. ^a ... drinke f] Lines end.
new... drink f Cap. Mai. emperor , ... Bacchanals, ...drink f Johns. Varr. Ran. et seq. (subs.)
121. Enob.] Enob. [to Ant] Cap.
122. BackenalsJBachanalsF^. Ba*,- chanals F^F^.
123. [they rise. Cap.
124. letWJ let us Steev. Varr. Knt, CoU. Hal.
kands,J hands, and beat the ground, Steev. conj.
Z19. Possesse it] Collier (ed. ii, reading Profess it from his MS, thus ex- plains) : That is, Profess to be a child of the time, and I'll do the same. Although the meaning of Profess here may not be very evident, * Possess * seems to offer no consistent sense. In King Lear, I, i, we have seen the opposite error, for there 'possesses' was fCLVs^rixiXxA professes. — Collier in his Third Edition returned to the original text, ' Possess,' with the brief note : ' So the old copies, s. q. Pass it, viz., the cup.' — Anon. (Blackwood, Oct. 1853, p. 467) : Caesar's meaning is quite obvious ; he means. Be master of it. * Be a child of the time,' says Antony. * Rather be its master, say 1/ rejoins Caesar, — a sentiment much more likely to come from the lips of the great dictator than the paltry rejoinder which [Collier's MS] puts into his mouth — *' Profess it^ — that is, profess to be the child of the time. — Singer (Sh. Vind. 291) : Caesar may mean, * Possess it' rather than waste it, like a child o'the time in drunkenness. — Staunton : There is some ambiguity in the word ' possess,' which, if not a misprint, is employed here in a sense we are unaccustomed to ; but the mean- ing of the passage is plain enough. In former days it was the practice, when one good fellow drank to another, for the latter to ' do him right ' by imbibing a quantity of wine equal to that quaffed by the health-giver. Antony proposes a health to Caesar, but Caesar endeavours to excuse himself, whereupon Antony urges him by s^yioi^t ' Be a child o'the time/ i, e. do as others do ; indulge for once. Caesar then consents to pledge the health, and says, * possess it,' or propose it, — I'll do it justice. — Thiselton (p. 16) : This simply means, * Have your wish.' — [I prefer the inter- pretation of Anon, in Blackwood (who is said to have been Lettsom). — Ed.]
l66 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act ii, sc viL
The holding eueiy man fhall beate as loud, 130
As his (Irong fides can volly.
Muficke Mayes. Enobarbus places them hand in hand.
The Song. Came then Monarch of the Vine, Plumpie Bacchus^ with pinke eyne : 135
13a heaU'\ heat F,F^, Rowe, Pope, ^^o/ Daniel. Waib. bear Theob. Han. Johns, et seq. 131. ca$i\ the Rowe ii.
150. The holding euexy man shall beate] Theobald : The company were to join in the burden, which the poet styles the holding. But how were they to beat this with their sides t I am persuaded the poet wrote : ' The holding every man shall bear^ as loud As his strong sides can volley.* The breast and sides are immedi- ately concerned in straining to sing as loud and forcibly as a man can. So in the Huntsman's So>r^ in As You Like It^ we find the marginal direction: 'The rest shall bear this Burthen.' — Stbevens: ^ Beat* might have been the poet's word, however harsh it may appear at present In Henry VIII. we find a similar expres- sion : * — let the musick knock it' — ^Johnson : * The holding every man shall beat' That is, Every man shall accompany the chorus by drumming on his sides, in token of concurrence and applause. — [Did Dr Johnson measure every one's capacity to drum on his sides by his own? — Ed.] — M. Mason : To bear the burden, or, as it is here called, the holding of a song, is the phrase at this day. The passage, quoted by Steevens, from Henry VIII, relates to instrumental musick, not to vocal. — M alone : The meaning of the holding is ascertained by a passage in an old pamphlet called The Serving Man*s Comfort, 1598 : ' — where a song is to be simg the undersong or holding whereof is. It is merrie in haul where beards wag all.'
133. The Song] Capell (i, 36) : When this play was fitted up for the stage in the year fifty-eight by the present editor, a stanza was then added to this truly bacchanalian song, and the song printed as follows : I. Gime, thou monarch of the vine, Flumpy Bacchus, with pink eyne ; Thine it is to cheer the soul. Made, by thy enlarging bowl. Free from wisdom's fond controul. Bur, Free from &c. 2. Mon- arch, come ; and with thee bring Tipsy dance, and revelling : In thy vats our cares be drown'd ; With thy grapes our hairs be crown' d ; Cup us, till the world go round. Bur, Cup us, &c. — [When Capell warbles 'Tipsy dance, and revelling,' I am afraid he had been lately reading Milton's Cbmus,']
135. Plumpie] Green (p. 246) believes *of a certainty' that the epithet 'plumpy' was suggested by the figures depicted in the Emblem Writers, Alciat, Whitney, and especially in Boissard's Thealrum Vita Humana, p. 213 ; the illns- tzmtion in this last book Green reproduces, and Bacchus is therein depicted as unde- niably plump, but whether the obesity be due merely to well-nourished youth or to convivial living, it is not easy to decide. The force of Green's argument in favour of the Emblem Writers (and it has undeniable force), lies in his accumulation of instances, and is not to be judged by a solitary example. — Ed.
135. with pinke ejrne] Johnson {^Dict, s. v. Pink. 2) : An eye ; commonly a small one : as pink-tyt^ [in the present passage]. — Steevens : Thus in Holland's Pliny, Eleventh Book, we find : *■ also them that were pinke-eied, and had very small
ACT II, sc. vu.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 167
In thy Fattes our Cares be drown^dy 136 With thy Grapes our haires be Crowtfd.
Cup vs till the world go round ^
Cup vs till the world go round. 1 39
136. Fattes] Fats Rowe. vats Pope. 138, 139. Cup] All. Cup Sta.
cics, they tenned Ocella' [p. 335, cd. 1635].— Nares (x. v. Pink eyne) : Small eyes. This expression, in the quaint language and fantastic spelling of old Lane- ham, appears thus : * It was a sport very pleazaunt of theeze beastz ; to see the Bear with his pink nyez leering after hiz enmicz approch* [p. 25, ed. 1784]. — Ibid. (j. V. Pink-eyed) : Coles renders it by lucinius and ocella; later ed. tlso patus ; and in the Latin part of his Dictionary he has • Oceila,—arum. Maids with little eyes ; pink-ey'd girls.' To vnnk and pink with the eyes, still means to contract them, and peep out of the lids. In Fleming's Nomenclator we have: 'Ocella, lucinius . . . Ayant fort petits yeux. That hath little eyes: pink-eyed.*— Whitney {Cent. Diet, s. V. pink-eye.' Derived from pink^ v., wink, blink, + eye,^ after Middle Dutch * pifuk-ooghct pimp-ooghe^ one who has small eyes . . . Pink in [the present line] is usually regarded as an adjective, with the assumed sense 'winking,* or 'blinking;' but if an adjective it must belong io pink* [a pink colour].) : A small eye. — Elton (p. 284) : Holinshed, however, shows us that Bacchus was accused in the song of a tipsy blinking ; for in his sketch of the pot-knights he makes them afraid to stir from the alehouse-bench, where ihey sit half-asleep, « still pinking with their narrow eies as halfe sleeping, till the fume of their aduersarie [be digested that he may go to it afresh. Vol. i, p. 170, ed. 1586].
138, 139. Cup V8 . . . round] Collier (ed. ii) : These last two lines, or rather the last line and the repetition of it, are expressly called ' the burden * (t. e. bourdon) in the MS, and they are included in a bracket. — Dowden (p. 374) : If, during this tragic period, Shakspere retain any tendency to observe the comedy of incident in life, the incident will be of another sort from that which moves our laughter in 77ie Comedy of Errors, It will rather be a fragment of titanic burlesque, overhung by some impending horror, and inspired by a deep ' idea of world-destruction.* * Such a stupendous piece of burlesque, inspired by an idea of world-destruction, Shakspere found in Plutarch's life of Antony, and having allowed it to dilate and take colour in his own imagination, he transferred It to his play. Aboard Pompey*s galley the masters of the earth hold hands and dance the Egyptian bacchanals, joining in the volleying chorus, ' Cup us, till the world goes round ! ' ; and Menas whispers his leader to bid him cut the cable, and fall to the throats of the Triumvirs. A great painting by Orcagna shows a terrible figure, Death, armed with the scythe, and swee]>- ing down through bright air, upon the glad and careless garden-party of noble and beautiful persons, — men and women who lean to one another, and caress their dogs and hawks, while they listen to the music of stringed instruments. In Shakspere' s scene of revelry, death seems to be more secretly, more intimately present, seems more surely to dominate life ; though it passes by, it passes, as it were, with an ironical smile at the security of the possessors of this world, and at the noisy insubstantial triumph of life, permitted for a while.
♦ A word applied by Heine to Aristophanes — Weltvemuhtungsidee.
i68
THE TRACE DIE OF
[act II, sc. vii.
Ca/ar. What would you more? Pompey goodnight Good Brother Let me requeft you of our grauer bufmeffe Frownes at this leuitie. CJentle Lords let's part, You fee we haue burnt our cheek es. Strong Enobarbe Is weaker then the Wine, and mine owne tongue Spleet's what it fpeakes: the wi Ide difguife hath almoft Antickt vs all. What needs more words t goodnight Good Anthony your hand.
Pom. He try you on the (hore.
Anth. And Ihall Sir, giues your hand.
140
145
150
140, 141. Wkat...Brotker\ One line, Rowe et seq.
142. you of our\ Ff. you of; our Rowe i. you^ off; our Han. Cap. of you — our Ktly. you off; our Rowe ii et cet.
144. we haue\ w^ve Dyce ii, iii. ckeekes] ckeeke F,. cheek F^F^,
Rowe, Pope, Theob. i, Han.
Enobarbe] Enobarbus Pope, + . Enobarb Coll. Dyce, Sta. GIo. Cam.
145. Wine'\ wind F,F^, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
146. SpUei's\ Spleets F,Fj. Splits F^ et seq.
147. Anticki'\ Anticied Var.'yS et seq.
149. on the Jhore'\ on the Jhoar FjF^. 0' the shore Steev. Var. '73, *78, Knt ashore or on shore Walker (Crit, iii,
300)-
150. 5fr,] Ff, Rowe. Sir Johns. Coll.
Wh. ^fV / Pope et cet.
glues'] F,. £^ve us Mai. ,^w/j FjF^ et cet.
140. What would you more?] Corson (p. 291) : Every speech of Octavius in this scene shows that, though in the revels, he is not of them. He simply endures them as a necessary evil, for the time being. ' What would you more ? ' shows that he has been a reluctant but politic attendant, and is impatient to have them over.
142, 143. Let me request . . . Frownes at this leuitie] Thiselton (p. 16) : That is, ' let me request you for the sake of our graver business which frowns at this levity.' It is better to regard this passage as supplying an instance of the suppressed relative, than to alter * of ' to off, and bisect the sentence. — [Does not the critic over- look the fact that he leaves the sentence incomplete ? What is it that Caesar requests ? It would be difficult, moreover, to find another example, exactly parallel to this, of the * suppression ' of a relative. I can detect none in the examples quoted by Abbott in §§ 244, 245, 246, on the ' omission of the relative.' — Ed.]
146. Spleet's] Collier (ed. i) : We are not sure that this orthography ought not to be preserved. * Spleets ' was not the old mode of spelling jp/itSt and the vari- ation might be intentional.
146. the wilde disguise] Murray (A^. E.D. s. v. Disguise, sb. y) : < Disorder by drink ' (Johnson). [The present passage is here quoted, and also] Ben Jonson, Masque of Augurs^ ' Groom, Disguise ! what mean you by that ? do you think that his majesty sits here to expect drunkards ? ' [p. 429, ed. Gifford. ]
149. He try you on the shore] Deighton : I will make trial of your feasting on shore (as you have mine on board ship).
150. And shall Sir] Abbott (§ 97) : * And' is frequently found in answers in
ACT II, sc. vu.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA
169
Pom. Oh Anthony yyou haue my Father houfe. 151
But what, we are Friends ? Come downe into the Boate.
Eno. Take heed you fall not Menas : He not on Ihore, 1 54
151, 152. you haiu...Frunds f^ One line. Cap. et seq. (except Knt, Sta.)
151. Father houfe\ Fathers houfe F,. father-house Knt. Father's houfe F^F^ etcet
houfe. '\ Ff, Rowe, + , Coll. house ^ Var. '73, '78, '85. house,— Cap. Mai. ct cec.
152, 153. But ... Boate"] One line, Rowe,+.
152. what^'] Ff, Rowe, Pope, what! Tbeob. Warb. Johns. Var. '73. what t Han. Cap. et ceL
152. we are] w^re Pope, + .
153. Come downe] Ff, Rowe, + , Coll. Hal. Come, down Cap. et cet.
154-156. Take heed,., what] As prose, Johns.
154. 155. not. ..Cabin] not, [Exeunt Pom. Can. Ant. and Attendants] Menas^ PU... shore. Men. No, to my Cabin. Cap. Var. '85 et seq.
154. not Menas .* lie] F,. not, Menas : lie FjF^. not. Men. Til Rowe, Johns. not, Menas. Men. 77/ Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
the sense of * you are right and * or ' yes and,' the * yes * being implied. In the pres- ent passage, the phrase is equivalent to ' You say well, and you shall,* or ' So you shall,* * that you shall,' emphatically.
151. you haue] Pope unwarrantably changed this into *you hate.^ Whereupon Theobald administered to Pope a somewhat sarcastic rebuke, and then, in order to prove that the original text is correct, < insisted,' — to quote his own words, — that there is here an allusion to a ' noted witticism ' made by Pompey on the present occasion. This witticism was founded on the fact that the splendid residence in Rome of Pom- pey's father, at that time in the possession of Anthony, was situated on the Via Carinee (*or Galley -street, as we might call it') where even the houses themselves were built to resemble galleys ; when, therefore, Pompey said that he would enter- tain Caesar and Anthony on his galley, there was a witty double allusion to his galley and his house in * Galley-street.' As authorities, Theobald quoted Paterculus : * Qui [t. e, Pompeius] baud absurde, cum in navi Caesaremque et Antoniuro coena excipe- ret, dixit, in Carinis suis se coenam dare ; referens hoc dictum ad loci nomen, in quo patema domus ab Antonio possidcbatur.' — [lib. ii, cap. Ixxvii.] And also Aurelius Vic- tor: * Pace facta, epulatus in navi cum Antonio et Caesare, non invenuste ait : Hae sunt meae carinae ; quia Romae in Carinis domum cius Antonius tenebat.' — [cap. Ixxxiv.] It is doubtful that even Theobald's insistence can make us believe that Shakespeare had Pompcy's • witticism ' here in mind ; had he ever heard it or known it, an allusion to it would have been more appropriate in II. vi, 102, where Pompey says « Aboord my Galley, I inuite you all.* Is it not enough that Shakespeare found in Plutarch that Antony kept possession of Pompey* s house? See Appendix,— "^Vi.
154. Take heed you faU not] Capell (i, 36) : Speaking to some of them (Pom- pey, probably), whom he sees stagger : After which, the boat puts off with it's com- pany ; and Enobarbus, who has not yet had his dose, turns to Menas, and says — * Menas, P II not on shore,' and is reply*d to by Menas,— < No, to my cabin.' This is the arrangement of the passage before us ; and so palpably right, that the reader shall not be insulted with any proofs of it : What he finds in the modems,— or may find, if he is so dispos'd, — took its rise from the negligent folio's.— [The Text. Notes show that this arrangement of Capell is now adopted by all editors.]
170
THE TRACED IE OF
[act II, sc. vii.
No to my Cabin : thefe Drummes, Thefe Trumpets, Flutes : what Let Neptune heare, we bid aloud farewell To thefe great Fellowes.Sound and be hanged, found out.
Sound a Flaurijh with Drumnus.
Enor. Hoo faies a there's my Cap.
Men. Hoa, Noble Captaine, come. Exeunt.
iSS
160
I55'X5S. the/e...out,'\ Lines end, i/ar ,.,feUcws;..,out* Cap.
155. No] No; Han.
I55> 156- No^.^what] One line, Han.
tke/e Drummes, ... wka^l One line, Var. '78 et seq.
Drumnus, TTiefe Trumpets^ Flutes ••] Drums ! — These Trumpets^ Flutes! Rowe, Pope, Theob. drums! these trumpets ! Han. drums^ these trum- pets ^ flutes. Cap.
156. what] what, F^. what — Cap.
what! Rowe et cet.
157. aloud ] a loud Rowe ii.
160. Enor.] F,.
Hoo'lYi, -«w, Rowe, + . Hoo! Dyce, Wh. Cam. Ho, or Ho! Cap. et cet
fates a therms] fates a, therms FjF^. says a! There's Rowe et seq. (subs.)
161. /^<>tf,] Ff,Rowe, + . Hoo!I>jct, Wh. Cam. Ho! or Ho, Var. '73 et cet
155. these Drummes] Staunton {Atherutum, 26 Apr. 1873), who adopts, in common with all modem editions, the division of lines in the Var. of 1778 (see Text, Notes), observes : ' There is an obvious deficiency in this line. As a stop-gap, we might read, — *' Where now are these drums," etc.* In attempting to scan these lines, we must remember that their rhythm was not composed by Shakespeare but by Steevens; a fact which Abbott (§ 509) overlooked when he said that the present line ' occurs amid regular verse.*
z6i. Exeunt] Corson (p. 292) : There is no other scene in all the plays of Shakespeare, perhaps, which exhibits a more complete dramatic identification on the part of the poet, than this banquet scene. There must have been at the time of his writing it, the fullest sympathetic reproduction within himself, of the several characters. — Staffer (p. 416) : Voltaire's indignation is well known at Shake- speare's so-called tragedies which are only * farces in which the burlesque and the horrible are united/ and in which we see ' the lowest rabble appearing on the stage by the side of princes, and princes often using the same language as the mob.' Judgements of this kind belong to a period in which the characters of a tragedy were merely regarded as so many lay figures, who were expected to act in a solemn and ceremonious manner, especial care being taken that they should speak in the most courtly style and be able to make court-curtseys ; and they belong moreover to a country in which the spirit of society and of high-bred manners has always been peculiarly cultivated and prized, and this differs as widely from the humourous sjnrit as one of our garden plants does from a foreign wild flower. These adverse opinions, however, do not prevent the banquet on board Pompey*8 vessel from being a most excellent scene, and one even more thoroughly Shakespearian perhaps than the passages most celebrated for beauty in his plays, since in this particular kind of humourous presentation he is not only unrivalled, but has neither follower nor fore- runner. * Vanity of vanities, all is vanity ; ' what more amazing or more grotesque commentary on this philosophical truth, which lies at the basis of the spirit of humoor,
ACT III, sc. i.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA
171
\A6lus Tertius. Scene /.]
Enter Ventidius as it were in trinmphj the dead body of Paco^
ms borne before hint.
Ven. Now darting Parthya art thou ftroke, and now PleasM Fortune does of Marcus Crajfus death Make me reuenger. Beare the Kings Sonnes body, Before our Army thy Pacorus Grades^ Paies this for Marcus Crajfus.
Romaine. Noble VentidiuSy
5
8
Act III. Scene i. Rowe. A Camp. Rowe. A Camp in a part of Sjria. Theob.
1-43. Om. Gar.
1,2. Enter. ..him.] Enter Ventidius in Triomph... before him, Roman Soldiers and Attendants. Rowe. Enter, as from Conquest, Ventidius, with Silius, and other Romans, Officers and Soldiers... him. Cap.
3. Parthya\ Parthia Ff.
Jlroke\ftrookY^, JlruckY^,
6. Army thy^ Army, thy Ff, Rowe i. host; thy Pope, + . army. Thy Coll. Dyce, Glo. Cam. army; thy Rowe ii et cet. (subs.)
Grades] Orodes Rowe.
8. Romaine.] Romane F,. Roman. FjF^. Rom. Rowe. Sil. Theob. et seq.
Goald be found than this scene, in which the lires of the Triumyirs depend upon a rope that Pompej had only to say the word to hare cut, and in which Lepidus, < the triple pillar of the world,' rolls dead drunk under the table, and is carried off on the back of a slave.
I. Ventidius] See Plutarch, Appendix.
I. as it were in triumph] Collier (ed. ii) opines that it is all the more needful that the phrase, ' as it were in triumph * should be retained, because * Plutarch tells us that Ventidius was the only Roman who, up to that day, ** had triumphed of the Parthians."' Delius, howcYcr, interprets (Sh, Jhrb. viii, 200) the phrase some- what differently. He thinks that Shakespeare, in using this phrase, meant to indi- cate that the comrades and subordinates of the General appeared also in the pro- cession. In this connection Delius suggests with ingenuity that we may infer from the somewhat fuller stage-directions in the present play, that Shakespeare was not himself personally concerned in its performance ; and that, therefore, he wrote out the directions to the actors more explicitly. — Ed.
3. darting Parthya] Wordsworth cites two classical passages wherein darts are representative of the Parthians. The first is < Miles [timet] sagittas et celerem fugam Parthi.' — Horace, Odes^ II, xiii. The second, * Addam . . . Fidentemque fuga Par- thum Tersisque sagittis.' — Virgil, Georgics^ iii, 31. — Deighton: A reference to the Parthian method of fighting, their horsemen pouring in a shower of darts as they swarmed round the enemy, and then, as they fled to avoid close combat, turning in their saddles and discharging flights of arrows.
3. art thou stroke] Johnson : Alludes to * darting.' Thou whose darts hare so often struck others, art struck now thyself.
172
THE TRACE DIE OF
[act in, sc. i.
Whil'ft yet with Parthian blood thy Sword is warme, The Fugitiue Parthians follow. Spurre through Media, Mefapotamia^and the ihelters, whether The routed flie. So thy grand Captaine Anthony Shall fet thee on triumphant Chariots, and Put Garlands on thy head. Ven. Oh Sillius jSUliuSy I haue done enough. Alower place note well May make too great an a£L For leame this SilliuSy Better to leaue vndone, then by our deed Acquire too high a Fame, when him we ferues away.
lo
15
19
10. Tke..,follow.'\ Follow the fugitive Parthians ; Words.
Spurre] Spume F,. Spurn F^F^, Rowe.
11. Afe/apotamia^AfesepotamiaFopt, whether] whither Ff.
13. Chariots] Charriots F .
15-19. Oh Sillias...aicrtf^.] Lines end, done ... mahe ... detter ... acquire.., away, Han.
15. Oh Sillios, Sillius,] Silius, Han.
15, 17. Sillius] Silius F^F^, Rowe.
16. / haue] Vve Popc, + , Dyce ii,
• • •
ui.
Ahwer] F,.
pltue note well] plaee^ note well Ff, {palce F,). plaee^ note well^ Rowe et seq.
18, 19. Better .., Acquire] One Hzie, Steev. Var. '03, '13, Coll. Wh. Hal.
19. him] he Pope, + , Cap. Van*. Ran. femes away] fem^ sway F^
serve^ *s away Theob. Warb. Johns. ferv^s away F^F^ ct cet.
13. Chariots] Walker {Crit, i, 253) says: * Chariot, surely.' Dycb, inde- pendently, made the same conjecture, and Hudson adopted it in his text But the Cowdrn-Clarkbs remark that a plural used in this way [as also in * Garlands *] is not infrequent among poets and poetic writers or speakers, to give the effect of , amplitude and generalisation. Compare [Paulina's passionate speech to Leontes in] The mntet's Tale, «What flaying? boiling? In leads or oils ? '—HI, ii, 191.
16. Alower place note well, etc.] Theobald (ed. i) : Plutarch particularly Ukes notice, that Ventidius was careful to act only on Lieutenantry ; and cautious of aim- ing at any glory in his own name and person. But the sentiments he throws in here, seem directly copied from Quintus Curtius, in Antipater's behaviour with regard to Alexander : — Et, quanquam fortuna renim placebat, invidiam tamen, quia majores ra erant, quam quas Praefecti modus caperet, metuebat. Quippe Alexander hostes Tinci iroluerat ; Antipatrum vicisse, ne tacitus quidem indig^abatur ; sua demptum gloriae existimansy quicquid cessisset alienae. Itaque Antipater, qui probe nosset ^iritum ejus, non est ausus ipse agere arbitria victoria. — \Y^. vi, cap. I.] — J. Churtoh Collins (p. 310) : Theobald most happily furnishes the best of illustrations by quot- ing Antipater's behaviour with regard to Alexander the Great. — [Collins hereupon • quotes the foregoing passage from Quintuff Curtius, but by a slip of the pen reads dignabatur instead of ' indignabatur.' — Ed.]
17-19. For leame . . . serues away] The scansion of these lines has much perturbed the critics. Steevens was the earliest to suggest an amendment, but he went no further than to omit *to* in line 18: 'Better leave undone, than by our deed.' Walker {Crit, iii, 300) was more vigorous ; he re-arranged the lines thus :
ACT III. sc. i.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 173
Qefar and Anthony ^ haue euer wonne 20
More in their officer, then perfon. Soffius
One of my place in Syria, his Lieutenant,
For quicke accumulation of renowne,
Which he atchiuM byWminute, loft his fauour.
Who does i'th'Warres more then his Captaine can, 25
Becomes his Captaines Captaine : andA mbition
(The Souldiers vertue )rather makes choife of loffe
Then gaine, which darkens him.
I could do more to do Anthonitis good,
But 'twould offend him . And in his offence, 30
Should my performance perifh.
Rom. Thou haft Ventiditts that, without the which a 32
20, 2 1 . Csefinr . . .per/on] Given to Silius, Vmtidius . . . swcrd, . . . Antony f Stecv. Ran. Var. *03, ' 1 3. Mfl/, . .,sword, . . Antony t
31. Soflius] Sosius Rowe, Pope. Cap. et cet.
24. hf] Om. F^F^. 32, 40. Rom.] Ff, Rowe, Pope. SiL
atchit^d^ atchim/d ¥^F^. Theob. et ccL
6/tA'] by th' Ff. 32. Thou,., that, '\ Thou'st that, Ven-
2S-31. Th^n ... periflt.'\ Lines end, tidim, Elze.
more,,. him ;.„perish, Han. the'\ Om. Steer. Var. '03, '13,
32-34. Tii^M... Anthony.] Lines end. Words. wkUh , , . distinction :.. .Antony. Rowe, + .
' For learn this, Silius : Better | To leave undone, than by our deed acquire,' etc. He then suggests another arrangement : * Better to leave undone, | Than by our deed acquire too high a fame, | When him we serves away.* Whereby, disregarding the plight in which he leaves two trimeter couplets : * May make too great an act,' and *When him we serves away,' he has in reality accomplished nothing. He has eliminated no discord; there is no discord to be eliminated,— the lines are rhythmical howsoever they are divided. Unless the lines are uttered in the veriest sing-song, no ear can detect how or where they are divided. I cannot doubt that had Walker lived to revise his work, he would have omitted much that was merely the passing fancy of the moment. Yet Dyce, who is extremely chary of notes, reprints in fall these suggestions of Walker. Abbott ({ 498) observes : * We might arrange "Better l^ve | undone, | than b^ | our d^ed | acquire." Or [line 18] might be (but there is not pause enough to make it probable) a trimeter couplet.' Lastly, Wordsworth amends and divides : ' For learn, 'tis better | To leave undone, than by our deed acquire | Too high a fame when him we serve's away.' — Ed.
19. when him we semes away] For other examples of ' him ' used for he, by attraction to whom understood, see, if need be, Abbott, { 208.
21. More in their officer, then person] It is possible that in the final n of *then' there is an absorption of in : * then' person.' — Ed.
24. by*th'minute] Deighton : That is, each minute.
28. which darkens him] After * him,* Keightley marks an omission, as of an incomplete sentence.
32, 33. Thou hast Ventidius that, . . . graunts scarce distinction] Warsur-
174
THE TRACED IE OF
[act III, sc. i.
Souldier and his Sword grunts fcarce diftin£lion : thou wilt write to Anthony.
Ven. He humbly fignifie what in his name. That magicall word of Warre we haue effefted, How with his Banners^and his well paid ranks, The nere-yet beaten Horfe of Parthia, We haue iaded out oWField.
Rom. Where is he now ?
Ven.HG purpofeth to Athens, whither with what haft The waight we muft conuay withes, will permit : We fliall appeare before him. On there ,paffe along.
Exeunt.
33
35
40
44
33. and his Sword graunts^ from his sword Gains Huds. con].
graunts'^grant Han. Wmrb. Johns. gains Coll. ii, m (MS), KUy, Hnds. grants Ff et cet
graunls /carce] scarce gains Words.
34. Anthony.] Ff, Rowe i, Han. Antony, Rowe ii, Pope. Antony t Theob. ctseq.
36. Warre we] war, we Rowe. SJ. we//^id]we//pai*dF^F^. welt- 'pend Pope et seq.
38. The] That Rowe ii, Pope.
38. nere-yet beaten] n^ er-yet-heaten Theob. et seq.
39. We haue] »VwPope,+.
41. Athens^ Athens ; Rowe. Athens, Johns.
whither] Om. Pope,+. where Cap. Walker.
42. waight] weight F,F^.
conuay] convay F,. convey F^F^. with*s] with us Cap. Varr. Mai. Ran. Steer. Varr. Knt, Coll. Hal.
permit :] permit, Rowe ii et seq.
43. On there] Om. Pope, Han.
TON : * Grant,' for afford. The sense is this : ' Thou hast that, Ventidios, which if thou didst want, there would be no distinction between thee and thy sword. You would be both equally cutting and senseless.' This was wisdom or knowledge of the world. Ventidius had told him the reasons why he did not pursue his adTan* tages ; and his friend, by this compliment, acknowledges them to be of weight. — Capell (i, 36) : Meaning— wisdom or knowledge of the world : * without which,' the soldier afibrds scarcely anything to distinguish him from his sword ; the sword, in that case, doing nearly as much service, and being of equal value with himself. This maxim, and others with which the scene is embellish' d, are form*d out of veiy slight hints the Poet found in his Plutarch ; which, if they are tum'd to, will shew with how sharp a judgment he look'd into the authors he dealt with. [See Ap* pendix.]
39. iaded] Schmidt (Lex.) : That is, to treat like a jade, to spurn, to kick.
41-43. He purposeth . . . passe along] Walkbk ( Crit. iii, 300) : Arrange^ perhaps : — ' He purposeth | To Athens ; whither with what haste the weight | We must convey with's will permit, we shall | Appear before him, — On, there; pass along.'
42. with's,] Thiselton (p. 17) : The Folio punctuation is here quite in con- sonance with Elizabethan usage, the comma after < with*s ' marking the end of the relative clause.
NcWfon><»-> if^VA an). mJLi, '<i -twtlr* ^ *tx> ^"^ <^V^A>iw
ACT III, sc. u.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
175
[Scene //.]
Enter Agrippa at one doarey Enobarbus at another.
Agri. What are the Brothers parted ?
Eno. They haue difpatcht with Pompey^h^ is gone. The other th ree are Sealing. OUauia weepes To part from Rome : Ccefar is fad, and Lepidus Since Pompe^s feaft, as Menas faies, is troub led With the Greene-Sickneffe.
Agri. ^Tis a Noble Lepidus.
Eno. A very fine one : oh, how he loues Ccefar.
Agri. Nay but how deerely he adores Mark Anthony.
Eno. Ccefar ? why he's the lupiter of men.
Ant. What's Anthony y\}cit God of lupiter ?
Eno. Spake you of Cafar ? How, the non-pardll ?
Agri. Oh Anthony y oh thou Arabian Bird !
10
14
Scene II. Rowe eC seq.
Rome. Rowe. An Anti-room in Caesar's House. Cap.
I. Enter...] Enter Agrippa and Eno- baibusy meeting. Cap.
1-79. Om. Gar.
3. Wkai^Whai^'Kxsm^, WhatlQoVi,
7. GreefU'SickneJfe\ ¥(, Rowe, Pope, I. Ktly. ^ten sicktuss Theob. et seq. 12. Ant] Agr. Rowe.
Anthony,] An/ony ^ Johns, etseq.
12. lupiter r\ Jupiter, Johns, et seq.
13. SpakeJ Speak FjF^, Rowe, + . H<my'\ Oh I F,, Rowe, Pope,
Theob. Warb. Oht F,F^. oh Han. O, Cap. H<rwl Coll. Dyce, Wh. Glo. Cam. HaL Ktly. JJo /StA. haw ^ Johns, et cet
14. Oh Anthony f oh thoul 0/ Antony f oh the Han. Of Antony f O thou M. Mason, Dyce ii, iii.
Oh ... ohj O ... O^ Cap. et seq. (subs.)
4. Sealing] That is, finishing, concluding their agreements.
14. thou Arabian Bird] ' There is another sacred bird, called the phcenix, which I myself have seen only in a picture ; for, as the citizens of Helios say, it visits them only periodically, every five hundred years ; they state that it always comes on the death of its sire. If it at all resembles its picture, it is thus and so : some of its leathers are golden-hued, and some are red ; in shape and figure it most resembles the eagle and in size also. They say, but I cannot credit it, that this bird contrives to bring from Arabia to the temple of Helios the body of its father plastered up in myirii, and there buries it. The mode of carrying it is as follows : — first, he plasters together an egg of m3rrrh as large as he is able to carry, after he has tested his strength by carrying it ; this trial having been made, he hollows out the egg suf- ficiently to place his father within, then with fresh myrrh he fills up the space onoccupied by his father's body ; the egg thereby becomes of the same weight as before, and thus plastered up he transports it to Egypt to the temple of Helios. Such things, they say, this bird can accomplish.' — Herodotus^ Lib. ii, cap. 73.
176 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act in, sc. iL
Emo. Would you praife Ge/ary ixy Cit/ar\ go no further. 1 5
Agr.lndttd he plied them both with excellent praifes. Etta. But he loues Ca/ar heft, yet he loues Anthony i
Hoo, Hearts, Tongues, Figure,
Scribes, Bards, Poets, cannot
Thinke fpeake, caft, write, fmg, number : hoo.
His loue to Anthony. But as for Qb/ot^
15. fmy Ofar] say • CfMr,* Dyce, Sbk. Gla Cam. (sabs.) JC\ ai. Tkimkt..Jm»e\ One liae. Gap.
/v] Om. Sleer. conj. Van; Ran. Slecv. Vair. Knt.
fmriktr^ fmrHUr Cap. CoU. Wk. aoi Tkimkt^ Evtr UkimJk Kdj,
HaL ummhr}
i>> i» /ft#....Ai«iiir] Odc Kne, Rowe kdL •t acq. ilM,] F^^ A«» F^ Rove. Fspe,
18. .««>] F.F,. /U^ F^. i^.' Haa. Cap. Van. Mai. SIkt. Vair. KttL Amf
Dyce. //^r/Rowectcet Han. Djce» Wb. A# / Tbaob. ci oeL
flfgmr<t'\J^gytrts Haik Cap. ct se(|. ai» as. Oe£ff. JjMefr] Gaar, Jtmett^
J Linea cod* i:jMe/ Cape Van. RaiL
iS-aa H««its, — munber] Joh2«sok : Nat only die tasioloej of 'bagda' and ^poets' bat &e vaaC of a cofrespoadcat adioii lor the ' poet,' aaat hae is ooly to * aamber/ makes aae aaapect sooae fcait ia this kaow Bot horn k> bkixL — Stcxtims: I saspcct ao Suit. Tbe kis cosapositiotts lo &e harp; dke/MToely mmaiifs Aem to papcn called maumSierM^ and to *■ aaaibcr^' a verb (m diis acaae) of i» ma4r verses* This poerile anaafaaeBt of Skakspcaie^ evea by die first wrkcfs^ Sck ia Am ExcdUmt Sir F. Sidaqr ; pnatad ia Emglami^s Ne&ctm, 1600:
* Veftae» bcaadew aad speeche, did stzike.
My heart, eyes» eare% with voader. Ioae;» delight ; Ftrst« secoed, last <fid btade* eoibice. aad anae
His wocks^ shoves^ soles, with wit, pace« aad Thus hoBoor, likiag, trast. aiuch, fivie, aad dcepe;
Held, pearst, possesst, my iudgmeot, seace aad will ; TUi wroo^ cootempt, deceite, did giow» steale, creepa^
Haads, fiaaour, 6uth to bceake, defie« aad kill ; Thea griefe, viikindBes^ proofed tooke^ kiadled, txafjhi;
Well- pounded, oobleft doe^ spite* xa^ew disdaaae. But ah, alas» ta mtae^ my mtade, sight, thought,
I>)th bsBi, his fiace, his words leaae, shonae, ggftarne- : For Boching» tiaie nor place, can loose, qaeach, case MiaeowoMbeBibrac^ sought, knot, fire,diwfaar ' — [ed. fTimit, i» 197.]
aow Tbtnka . . . boo] Dyce: SooMthing was dropped oat from this R. C Whits doubts Dyce's assertioo, and 9^!dn The moaosynabic aad iDtemapted dow make ihe line seem rather mperduous thaa de&neaL.
aow caai] This ooffespQads to * Figaie^* aad coQ:>ei{aeatiy meaas to
ACT III, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 177
Kneele downe, kneele downe, and wonder. 22
Agri. Both he loues.
Eno, They are his Shards, and he their Beetle, fo: This is to horfe : Adieu, Noble Agrippa, 25
Agri. Grood Fortune worthy Souldier, and farewell.
Enter Cce/ar , Anthony j Lepidtis j and 0£lauia.
Antho. No further Sir.
Ca/ar, You take from me a great part of my felfe: Vfe me well in't. Sifter, proue fuch a wife 30
As my thoughts make thee, and as my fartheft Band Shall paffe on thy approofe : moft Noble Anthony^ Let not the peece of Vertue which is fet Betwixt vs, as the Cyment of our loue To keepe it builded, be the Ramme to batter 35
22. Kneele downe^kneele\ Kneel, kneel 28. further] farther Ff, Rowc, Pope,
H«n. Theob. Warb. Cap. Coll. Wh. Hal.
wonder.] wonder — Rowc, Pope, [To Caefar. Cap,
Thcob. Warb. Johns. 30- «»'^] «» ^ Var. '73, '78, '85, Mai.
24. BeetU.fo:] Ff. beetle, so— "^oyr^. Ran. Steev. Var. '03, '13, Knt, ColL i.
, Theob. Warb. beetle; [Trumpet 31. and as] and Pope, Theob. Han.
within] w. Cap. Dyce, Glo. Cam. (subs.) Warb.
l^etiU, So^ Han. Johns, et seq. (subs.) farthefl] furthest Johns. Varr.
25. [Trumpets. Rowe. Ran. Steev. Varr. Dyce.
Noble] most noble Ktly. Band] bond Rowe, + , Cap.
37. Ofbuia.] Oaavi. F,. 34. Cyment] Cement F^F^.
24. Shards] Steevens : That is the wings that raise this heavy lumpish insect fiom the ground. — [The * shards' are not the wings, but the wing-cases, the Elytra; they do not raise the insect from the ground, but merely open to allow the wings to mifold ; and the ' insects ' are rarely ' heavy and lumpish,' — with these exceptions Steevens's definition is excellent. — Ed.]
24. so] From the days of Rowe this * so ' has been generally supposed to refer to Trumpets summoning the soldiers to horse. Drighton interprets it merely as ' very good.'
31, 32. my farthest Band Shall passe on thy approofe] Johnson : As I will ▼tfbture the greatest pledge of security, on the trial of thy conduct. — Malone: < Band ' and bond, in our author's time, were synonymous.
33. peece of Vertue] This phrase bears a double meaning ; * piece * may mean a ' specimen, or example, and be applied to an abstract thing ' (see Murray, N. E. D, s. V, piece, 8, b.) ; and it may also mean a woman (see op. cit. 9, b.) which is, I think, the better meaning here, as it is also in The Tempest^ * Thy Mother was a peece of ▼ertue.' — I, ii, 69.
34. Cyment] For a list of many words wherein < the accent is nearer the begin* ning than with us,' see Abbott, § 492.
35. To keepe it builded] Malone: Compare Sonnet^ 119: 'And ruin'd love, when it is built anew. Grows fairer than at first,' etc
za
178 THE TRACED IE OF [act m, sc. ii.
The Fortreffe of itfor better might we 36
Haue louM without this meane, if onboth parts This be not cheriiht
Ant. Make me not oflfended^ in your diftruft.
Cafar. I haue faid. 40
Ant. You fhall not finde^ Though you be therein curious, the left caufe For what you feeme to feare, fo the Gods keepe you, And make the hearts of Romaines feme your ends : We will heere part. 45
Cce/ar. Farewell my deereft Sifter, fare thee well. The Elements be kind to thee, and make 47
36. Fortreffe] Fortune Ff, Rowe, . 40. I haue] Pve Theob. Warb. Johns.
Pope. 42. tkereitt] certain Rowe ii, Pope.
fV] ii down Ktly. Uft] leajl Ft
better] much better Han. far better 43. feare^ fo] fear; so, Pope et seq.
Cap. Walker, Dyce ii, iii. 44. Romaines] Romanes F,. Romans
39. //ai^...^;^>i»^/^] One line, Rowe ^3^4*
et seq. ferue] feure Sta. Photo-lith,
42. curious] Dyce ( Gloss, ) : That is scrupulous, over-punctilious.
47. The Elements be kind to thee] Johnson : This is obscure. Its seems to mean, * May the different elements of the body, or principles of life, maintain such proportion and harmony as may keep you cheerful.' — Steevens: I believe this means only, * May the four elements of which this world is composed, unite their influences to make thee cheerful.' [Or it] may, indeed, mean no more than the common compliment which the occasion of her voyage very naturally required. He wbhes ' that serene weather and prosperous winds may keep her spirits free from every apprehension that might disturb or alarm them.* — M. Mason : Octavia was about to make a long journey both by land and by water. Her brother wishes that both these elements may prove kind to her ; and this is all. — Staunton : There is a passage, altogether forgotten by the commentators, in Jul. Cas. V, v, which is entirely confirmatory of Dr Johnson's interpretation : * His life was gentle ; and the elements So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up, And say to all the world, 7%is was a man /' — [It seems useless to contend over the meaning of ' Elements' in this sentence ; its meaning must be determined by the context. * The elements ' mean, in general, earth, water, air, and fire, and of these man is supposed to be composed ; ' the due proportion and commixture whereof in his composition,' says Nares (x. v. Elements) * were what produced in him every kind of perfection, mental and bodily.* Thus Cleopatra says, * I am Fire, and Ajrre ; my other Elements [f. e. earth and water] I give to baser life.' — V, ii, 341. Sir Toby Belch asks, * Does not our Hues consist of the foure elements?' — Twelfth Night, II, iii, ii. Or as Anthony in the present play says of the Crocodile, ' the elements once out of it, it Transmigrates.' — II, vii, 52. The four elements may also exist external to man, and when used in the singular, <the element' may mean the air or the sky, as in Twelfth Night, where Valentine says of Olivia, *■ The Element itselfe, till seuen yeares heate, Shall not
ACT III. sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 179
Thy fpirits all of comfort : fare thee well. 48
0£la. My Noble Brother.
Anth. The Aprill*s in her eyes, it is Loues fpring, 50
And thefe the (howers to bring it on : be cheerful!.
0£la, Sir, looke well to my Husbands houfe : and
Ca/ar. What 05lauia ?
0£la. He tell you in your eare.
Ant, Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can 55
Her heart informe her tougue. The Swannes downe feather 57
48. farethee\farethee Sta. Pkoto-lUh, ct seq.
53. lVhat'\ Closing line 52, Han. Cap. 56. t<mgue,'\ F,. tongue, Rowe. tongue; Stccv. Van. Knl, Sing. Dycc, Sta. Glo. Pope.
Cam. Ktly. 57'59* Mnemonic. Warb.
What Odlauia /] What Oifiavia, 57. Swannes'\ swan'd Warb.
Ff. Whaiy Oifiavia ? Pope ii. downe feather] doun feather FT^.
54, [taking him aside. Cap. down-feather Rowc, + , Dycc, Sta. Glo. 56, 57. Her,,. feather] One line, Rowe Cam. Ktly.
behold her face.' — I, i, 31. Again, where Viola says to Olivia, 'O you should not rest Betweene the elements of ayre, and earth,' etc. Or < the element ' may mean watery as where the Queen in Hamlet says of Ophelia, when iallen in * the weeping brook,' that she was ' like a creature native and indued Unto that element.' — IV, ▼ii, 180. It is, therefore, quite possible in the present passage that 'the elements' may mean either those which are external to man or those of which he is composed. If the former, then Csesar means no more than * may you have a comfortable journey'; an objection to this meaning is that a comfortable journey does not of necessity create cheerful spirits ; there is the well-known line * Caelum non animum mutant,' etc, which suggests a sorrow ever-present, however comfortable the voyage. If by 'the elements' Caesar means those of which Octavia's nature is composed, then Johnson's interpretation is just, and it would be presumptuous to attempt to better his paraphrase. — Ed.]
48. spirits] Walker's rule for the pronunciation of spirit as a monosyllable (Crit, i, 193) will not here apply. See I, ii, 143, and II, ii, 76.
50, 51 and 57-59. Loues spring, . . . bring it on : and The Swannes downe feather . . . inclines] Mrs Griffith (p. 469) : These are two passages, which for elegance of thought, or beauty of expression, it is not in the power of poetical imagery or language to exceed.
54. He tell you in }rour eare] As far as I know, Voss is the sole commentator who overhears what Octavia whispers. He says that she begs her brother not to be too exacting when dealing with Anthony, or else to remain constant to her, should Anthony's former fascination for Cleopatra re-awaken. But see line 72. — Ed.
55-59. Her tongue will not, etc.] I think Anthony here speaks aside, while Octavia is whispering her last fond words to her brother. — Ed.
57-59. The Swannes downe feather . . . neither way inclines] Capell (i, 37) : This comparison of Antony's rose indeed from the words he had just spoken ;
l8o THE TR AG ED IE OF [act in, sc iL
That (lands vpon the Swell at the full of Tide : 58
And neither way inclines.
Eno. Will CiBfar weepe ? 60
Agr. He ha^s a cloud in^s face,
Eno. He were the worfe for that were he a Horfe , fo is 62
58. Tkat^ 7:iiix Walker, Hods. 61. iVj] m Aw Var.»73,'78,'8s,Mal.
at the fiOl of] Mai. Knt, CoU. Ran. Ktly.
Sing. Dycc, Wb. Hal. Ktly. at tfu full 62. He ,.. Horfe\ One line, Pope et
CoU. ii. at the of full Su. Photo-lUh, leq.
atfuU ofYi et cct that were he.,Morfe,'\ that, were
60-70. Wm,..too.'\ As Aside, Cap. he a Hone Sta. Photo-lith,
but are not an illustration of them, but of a reflection that was then springing up upon the state of OctaTia*s heart ; divided between Uve to her brother and love to him, and unable to give the preference to either. — Hudson : Very delicate imagery, but not perfectly clear : the plain English of it is, that Octavia*s heart is equally divided between her brother and her husband, so that she cannot tell which she loves most. — Steevens refers to a similar image in 2 Henry IV: II, iii, 63 : * As with the tide swell'd up unto his height. That makes a still-stand, running neither way.» And Dbighton refers to Tro, and Cress, where Shakespeare again speaks of the soft plumage of the swan : * her hand ... to whose soft seizure The cygnet's down is harsh.' — I, i, 58.
58. at the full] In the Ff this < the ' is absorbed in the / of « at,* but is still pres- ent to the ear. — Ed.
62. were he a Horse] Steevens : A horse is said to have • a cloud in his face,' when he has a black or dark-coloured spot in his forehead between his eyes. This gives him a sour look, and being supposed to indicate an ill -temper, is of course r^arded as a great blemish. The same phrase occurs in Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy , * Every lover admires his mistress, though she be very deformed of her self. . . thin, lean, chitty face, have clouds in her face, be crooked,* etc — [p. 519, ed. 1651.] — R. G. White: An allusion to the dislike horse-fanciers have to white marks or other discolorations in the face of that animal. — Madden (p. 255) : Eno- barbus* grim jest would have prospered better in the ear of a Smithfield horse-courser than it has fared with some of the critics. The horse-courser could have told [Mr Grant White] that the words meant the exact opposite [to what he has said they mean]. The horse with a cloud in his face was one with no white star. Fitz- herbert, in his Bohe of Husbandries commends the white star. ' It is an excel- lent good marke also for a horse to have a white star in his forehead. The horse that hath no white at all upon him is furious, dogged, full of mischiefe and mis- fortune.*— Cm'olaricey G. Markham. ... In the common language of the stable such a horse was said to have a cloud in his face. Equus nebula {ut vulgo dicitMr)%im faciey cujus vultus tristis est et melaneholicusy jure vituperatur^ says the learned Sadlerius in his work, De procreandis^ etc., equis^ 1587. From Sadler's words ut vulgo dicitur, the expression < cloud in the face * seems to have been in general use. Those who had not Shakespeare* s intimate knowledge of the language of the stable probably used it without any clear idea of its meaning, as Burton may hare done when he wrote [the passage quoted by Steevens].
ACT ni, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA i8l
he being a| man. 63
Agru Why Enobarbus : When Anthony found Itdius Ca/ar dead^ 65
He cried almoft to roa ring : And he wept, When at Phillippi he found Brutus flaine.
Eno. That yearindeed, he was trobled with a rheume. What willingly he did confound, he wailM, Beleeu*t till I weepe too. 70
64. Enobarbus -] Ff. Enobarbus, CoXH, 68. rhfume] rume Sta. Photo4ith,
Dyce,Wh. Glo. Cam. Hal. Enobarbus f 70. BeUeu't^ Believe it Van. Mai.
Rowe et cct. Ran. Steev, Varr.
68. y€arindeed'\ yeare indeed Sta. weepe"] F,. wept Theob. Warb.
Pkoto4ith, Johns. Sing. Dyce, Wh. Sta. Glo. Cam.
trobled] troubled Yi. Sta. Photo- Hal. Hunter, Huds. Dtn, Rife. weepY^^
Kth, et cet
68. he was] This is one of the examples furnished by Walker (Cn/. ii, 203), illustrating his observation that ' Thou wert, you were, I was, etc. occur frequently in places where it is clear that they must have been pronounced as one syllable, in whatever manner the contraction was effected.*
68. The Text. Notes show a remarkable number of varia leetiones within twenty or thirty lines, in Staunton's Photolithograph. There can be no question that this reproduction faithfully sets forth its original, which could be at once pronounced one of the very earliest, if not the earliest, copy to leave the press, were it not that Staun- ton had two copies to print from : the copy in Bridgewater House and that in the National Library, and we do not know to which copy this page belongs. — Ed.
69. confound] Malone : To ' confound * is to destroy.
70. till I weepe too] Theobald : I have ventur'd to alter the tense of the verb here, against the authority of all the copies. There was no sense in it, I think, as it stood before. Enobarbus would say, ' Indeed, Antony seem'd very free of his tears that year ; and, believe me, bewail' d all the mischief he did, till I myself wept too.* This appears to me very sarcastical. Antony's tears, he would infer, were dissembled ; but Enobarbus wept in real compassion of the havock and slaughter committed on his countrymen. — Capell (i, 37) : Which he thought would be never : so that, tak- ing them thus, the words are only a fresh and more positive assertion of what he had been saying before. Wept (a word adopted by two modem editors) can not be allow'd of; the sense which that would convey, being a manifest violation of character. — Steevens : I am afraid there was better sense in this passage as it origi- nally stood, than Theobald's alteration will afford us. 'Believe it (says Enobar- bus), that Antony did so, r. e. that he wept over such an event, till you see me weep- ing on the same occasion, when I shall be obliged to you for putting such a con- struction on my tears, which, in reality (like his), will be tears of joy.' — M. Mason : I should certainly adopt Theobald's amendment, the meaning of which is, that Antony wailed the death of Brutus so bitterly, that I [Enobarbus] was affected by it, and wept also. Steevens's explanation of the present reading is so forced, that I cannot clearly comprehend it. — Dyce : Steevens and Capell vainly endeavour to
1 82 THE TRACED IE OF [act hi, sc. iL
Cce/ar. No fweet Oilatdaj 71
You fhall heare from me flill : the time fhall not Out-go my thinking on you.
Ant. Come Sir , come. He wraftle with you in my ftrength of loue, 75
Looke heere I haue you, thus I let you go, And giue you to the Gods.
Cce/ar. Adieu, be happy.
Lep. Let all the number of the Starres giue light To thy faire way. 80
Cce/ar. Farewell, farewell. Kiffes Oilauia.
Ant. Farewell. Trumpets found. Exeunt. 82
71. [coming forward. Ci^ iith,
73. my\ ^/r Rowe ii. 76. yoUy']you:Komt, you;\ea^xnc-
75. wra/ile] wreftU F^F^. ing him.] Han.
76. / Ut you\ /, Ut Kou Sta. Phot<h 78. AdUu,'\ Adieu Sta. Phoio-tith.
defend [the Folio]. According to Capell, Theobald's correction introduces ario- lation of character ; but Enobarbus is not altogether * unused to the melting mood ; * for afterwards (IV, ii, 47) we find him sajring, < Looke, they weep; And /, am ass, am onioH-e/df* etc. — R. G. WHrrR : I have no hesitation in adopting Theobald's reading. — ^Kbightlky (Expositor ^ p. 315) : Theobald is followed, from not under- standing the passage, as it seems to me ; what is meant is, accept this explanation till you see tm weep from pure feeling, which Antony was no more capable of doing than I am. — [If Theobald's reading be correct, and Enobarbus did actually weep out of sympathy, I find it difficult to detect vnth what he sympathised. Certainly not with Anthony's tears; he has just said that they were due to a rheum. If Anthony's tears were genuine, his sarcastic allusion to a rheum is pointless. As a proof that tears from Enobarbus were not out of character, Dyce refers to a scene between Anthony and his followers where Enobarbus confesses he was < onion-ey'd.' But there is no parallelism between that scene and the present. It was the sight of the unfeigned tears of deroted affection for Anthony which in that scene brought tears to the eyes of Enobarbus. In Anthony's * wailings' oyer the 'slain Brutus' whom he had himself < willingly confounded,' Enobarbus had no jot of faith, and he asks Agrippa to believe his words, — until Agrippa shall see him < weep too,' which, as Capell says, will be never. * Weepe ' of the Folio should not be, I think, dis- turbed.— Ed.
72, 73. You shall heare from me still, etc.] Is it not here revealed what Octavia told in Caesar's ear ? — Ed.
ACT III, sc. iii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
183
\Scene III?[
Enter Cleopatray Ckarmiatiy IraSy and AUxas.
Cleo. Where is the Fellow ?
Alex. Halfe afeard to come.
Cleo. Go too, go too ; Come hither Sir. Enter the Mejfenger as before.
Alex. Good Maieftie : Herod of lury dare not looke vpon you, but when you are well pleasM.
Cleo. That Herods head, He haue : but how ? When Anthony is gone, through whom I might commaund it : Come thou neere.
Me/. Moft gratious Maieftie.
5
10
Scene III. Rowe. Alexandria. Rowe. Palace in Alex* andria. Theob.
3. afeard ] afraid Pope, + .
4. Go too^ go too :] Go tOy go to : Ff. Go to, go to, Johns.
6-10. Good ... neere] Lines end, majesty, „,.you, ... head ...gone, ... it ... near. Pope, majesty / . . . you, . . . head, . . . gone, ... near. Theob. et seq.
6. Maieftie:] Ff. Majesty, Rowe. Majesty I Theob.
6. Jury] F,. Jewry F,F^.
7. pUa^d] plaeid Sta. Photo-lUh, 8-10. That Herods ... neere] lines
end, head ...gone, ... it: ... near. Pope. head... gone, ...near. Theob. et seq.
8. 9. how f ...it:] Ff. hew? ...it. Johns. Van. Mai. Steev. Varr. Knt, Sing. Ktly. h<m, ...itf Coll. Dyce, Wh. Sta. GIo. Gun. Hal.
\\. Maieftie.] Majefty.Yi. Majesty! Han. Majesty, — Theob. Warb. et seq.
4. Qo too, go too] Wordsworth (p. 341) : I have ventured to alter the com- mon text into ' Go to him, go,' because the former, which is ' a phrase of exhortation or reproof (Schm. <Lex.'), does not appear to give the meaning here required; unless indeed we can suppose it to signify, — ' Don't tell me of his being afeard. I insist upon seeing him ; ' which puts at least an awkward strain upon the words. — Deighton excellently paraphrases it as *■ nonsense, nonsense.'
5. the Messenger] Collier (ed. ii) : He is again called Elis in the MS. [See II, V, 29.]— Mrs Jameson (p. 140) : The man is afterwards brought back, almost by force, to satisfy Cleopatra's jealous anxiety, by a description of Octavia: — ^but this time, made wise by experience, he takes care to adapt his information to the humours of his imperious mistress, and gives her a satirical picture of her rival. The scene which follows, in which Cleopatra — artful, acute, and penetrating as she is — becomes the dupe of her feminine spite and jealousy, nay, assists in duping herself; and after having cuffed the messenger for telling her truths which are offensive, rewards him for the falsehood which flatters her weakness — is not only an admirable exhibition of character, but a fine moral lesson.
6. Herod of lury] See I, ii, 31. Alexas refers to the ferocious tyrant of the old mystery plajrs ; Qeopatra's thoughts wander to the living Herod.
I&4
THE TRAGEDIE OF
[ACTm, sc. m.
CUc. Did'ft thou behold Oa<
Mtf. I dread Quecne.
CfrtfL Where.'
M€j\ Madam in Rome, I lookt her in tihe finw her led beUrecne her Brocher, and Marke Amihtmj.
Ck>i< Is ihe as tall as me.'
Mtf. She ts not Madam.
C?A*. EHdil hcare her ^xaloe ? Is the thiiil toc^u*d or lov f
JKr:: M^duai I heard her ^Kakc ihe is lopv voiced.
Cii9^ Thirds not fo good : 1
12
15
^L^RooK. Viadk. riijbi&.
«£«■» '^dlldh iATttViB^ :ii^ ^.
ttn«k «lMi«tv >« 4hr <iter4t Hit iwnhafxuK oc
L^4
eeBBBEBcdr
OL ^
0
nwng*
js mv Tsr :^!iw«t: t mKS n:
ACT III, sc. m.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 185.
Char. Like her 1 0\i I fis \ 'tis impoffible. 23
Cleo. I thinke fo Channiani dull of tongue, & dwarfifti What Maieftie is in her gate, remember 25
If ere thou look'ft on Maieftie. ,
Me/.SYiQ creepes:her motion, & her ftation are as one: She (hewes a body, rather then a life, A Statue, then a Breather.
Cleo. Is this certaine ? 3^
Me/. Or I haue no obferuance.
Cha. Three in Egypt cannot make better note.
Cleo. He's very knowing, I do perceiu't. There's nothing in her yet. The Fellow ha's good iudgement. 35
C/iar. Excellent.
Cleo. Gueffe at her yeares, I prythee.
Meff. Madam, fhe was a widdow.
Cleo. Widdow? Ckarmianyh&zx\^c. 39
24. dwarftJk'\dwarfiJh.Y^^. dwarf- 32-34- Three, „yet,'\\Ant&tXi^,Egy^ iskl Cap. cl seq. ,. knowing., .yet, Th^b. et scq.
25. gatf^ Ff. g<^^e^ Rowe. gait? 38. Madam] Closing line 37, Stccv. Johns. Varr. Knt, Coll. Sing. Dyce, Wh. Sta.
26. look'/l'] Ff, Rowe, Var. '73. Glo. Cam. Hal. Her years, madam? hoi^dst Pope et cet. Cap. (separate line.)
27. 54^ rr^^«] Closing line 26, Rowe widdow.] Widow, Y^, widow^ — ct scq. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam.
32. Three .„ cannot] Not three in 39. IViddow ?] widow/ Dyce, Sta.
^gypt can Pope. Glo. Cam.
when Oeopatra applies the epithet * shrill-tongued ' to Fulvia, it is not introduced by way of compliment. — Irving Edition : Cleopatra means that a low voice is so good a thing in itself that it is ' not so good ' for her^ as it denotes a charm in Octavia. The latter part of the line is not at all consequent on what has just been said, but expresses the secret anxiety of the woman by her emphasis in uttering it. It would be better, perhaps, to print it as a separate sentence. — [This last interpretation is, to me, the trae one. Qeopatra was thinking of herself, not of any quality of Toice, and was, moreover, determined, as with the ' venom clamours of a jealous woman,* to regard every quality of Octavia in the worst possible light. As for * the poet*s * having Queen Elizabeth in his thoughts, — we here need Mr Burchell, to ejaculate * Fudge ! * It is quite as likely that he was thinking of Marian Racket. — Ed.]
27. her motion, ft her station are as one] Steevens : ' Station ' means the act of standing, as in Hamlet ^ ' A station like the herald Mercury.* — III, iv, 58. — [An impossible lie ; the very depth of obsequiousness or terror. — Ed.]
39. Widdow] Steevens : Cleopatra rejoices in this circumstance ; it sets Octavia on m level with herself, who was no virgin when she fell to the lot of Antony. — [Qeopatxm ' rejoices * because a < widow ' is suggestive of age and waning charms.
1 86 THE TRACED IE OF [act hi. sc. iii.
Mef. And I do thinke (he's thirtie. 40
Cle. Beared thou her face in mind ? is't long or round?
Mejf. Rounds euen to faultinefle.
Cleo. For the moft part too, they are foolifh that are fo. Her haire what coIo ur ?
MeJf. Browne Madam : and her forehead 45
As low as (he would wifh it.
41. j9^af^.../zr^] Separate line, Cap. 44. ^4rr...r0/iwr] Separate line, F,F^,
ty/] is it Varr. Mai. Ran. Steev. Rowe, Cap. Var. '21, Knt, Coll. Sing.
Var. '03, '13. Dyce, Wh. Sta. Glo. Cam. Hal.
43, 44. For, ,, colour f'\ Lines end, too 45, 46. Browne, .M."] Lines end, low
„. colour f Popc,+, VaiT. Mai. Ran. ...i^. Steev. Var. '03, '13.
Steev. Var. '03, '13. 46. As loui] is as low Steev. Var. '03,
43. thty are\ They re Pope,+, Dyce '13. li, ui.
and therefore less likely to hold Anthony's affection in thrall as long as would a blushing young bride. — Ed.]
43. they are foolish] Stekvens : This is from the old writers on physiognomy. So, in Hiirs Pleasant History y etc., 1613 : 'the head very rounds to be forgetful and foolish,^ Again, 'the head long^ to be prudent and wary.' — p. 218. — [The date, 1613, diminishes the value of these quotations, as far as the present play is concerned. —Ed.]
45. Madam] Walker ( Vers, 174) : Mt^am^ I think, renders the line more har- monious. I think that these speeches ought to be arranged as by Nares, s, v. Forehead.
45. forehead] Nares {s, v. Forehead) : A high forehead was formerly accounted a great beauty, and a low one a proportionable deformity ; so completely has taste changed in this respect. ' Her eyes are grey as glass, and so are mine ; Ay, but her forehead^ s low and miners as high* — Two Gent, IV, iv, 197. * For this is handsome- ness, this that draws us Body and bones ; Oh, what a mounted forehead^ What eyes and lips, what every thing about her.* — Beaumont and Fletcher's Mons. Thomas, I, i. * Her iuorie forhead, full of bountie braue. Like a broad table did it sclfe dispred. For Loue his loftie triumphes to engraue. And write the battels of his great godhed.' —Spenser, Faerie Queene, II, iii, 213. This is part of the description of a perfect ideal beauty :— « l^tt forehead smooth, full, polished, bright, and high. Bears in itself a graceful majesty.'— Witts Recreations, sign. V 2, b. Thus also Sir Philip Sidney describes the beautiful Parthenia :— « For her great gray eye, which might seeme full of her own beauty ; a large, and exceedingly faire forehead, with all the rest of her face and body, cast in the mould of noblenesse, was yet attired,' etc. — Book i, p. 59. A lady jocularly setting forth her own beauty, enumerates, * True complexion If it be red and white, a forehead ii^^i.'— Beaumont and Fletcher's IVoman Hater ^ III, L Cleopatra, when full of jealousy, is delighted to find that her rival has a law forehead, [The phrase], as low * as she would wish it * is said ironically, for much lower. The dialogue would be improved a little in spirit, if we might read it thus : ' Mess, Brown, Madam. Cleop, And her forehead f \ Mess, As lotu as she could wish it,* A low fore- head is humorously mentioned as the most striking deformity of apes : — * And all be tum'd to barnacles, or to apes, Wiih foreheads villainous lew,* — Tempest^ IV, L
ACT III, sc. iii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 187
Cleo. There^s Gold for thee, 47
Thou muft not take my former (harpenefle ill, I will employ thee backe againe : I finde thee Mod fit for bufineffe. Go, make thee ready, 50
Our Letters are prepared.
Char. A proper man.
Cleo. Indeed he is fo : I repent me much That fo I harried him. Why me think's by him. This Creature's no fuch thing. 55
Char, Nothing Madam.
Cleo. The man hath feene f ome Maiefty, and (hould know.
Char. Hath he feene Maieftie ? IJis elfe defend : and leruing you fo long. 60
Cleopa, I haue one thing more to aske him yet good Charndan : but 'tis no matter, thou (halt bring him to me "where I will write;all may be well enough.
Char, I warrant you Madam. Exeunt. 64
47. There s\ There is Steev. Varr. 59, 60. HeUh,„long,'\ Lines end, de-
fhee,"] thee. Rowe ii. fend: ,.Jang. Rowe et scq.
50. ready"] ready ^ while Cap. defend: ... long."] Ff. defend!
51. [Exit Mes. Han. „.iong. Pope, Han. defend! .„ long f 54. Why] Om. Pope, Han. Theob. Warb. Johns, defend, ...long!
me thinh's] F,. nte thinks F^, Cap. ct cct melhinhs F^. 61-63. / haue ...enough] Lines end,
56. Nothing] O nothing Fope,-\-, Cap. Charmian... me, ..enough Rowe etstq. Steev. No, nothing Ktly. 61. /^<m#^] /V^ Pope, + , Dyceii, iii.
46. as she would wish it] Capell (i, 37) : [Heath, p. 458] has proposed, to read — you would; but, in this, there is something indelicate : The sentence would be better amended (if amendment be necessary), by reading — Lower than she would^ etc.; and this, perhaps, is intended in the words that the printers have given us. — [Collier's MS gives the same reading that Heath conjectured ; Malone also conjectured it Dyce asserts that none of them was ' aware that the Messenger uses a cant phrase,' inasmuch as Steevens writes that he ' once overheard a chambermaid say of her rival " that her legs were as thick or she could wish them.*' ']
54. I harried him] Murray (A''. E. D. s. v. Harry. 4.) : To worry, goad, tor- ment, harass ; to maltreat, ill-use, persecute.
57. The man hath scene some Maiesty] Mrs Jameson (ii, 141) : Do we not £uicy Qeopatra drawing herself up with all the vain consciousness of rank and beauty as she pronounces this last line? and is not this the very woman who cele- brated her own apotheosis, — who arrayed herself in the robe and diadem of the god- de« Isis, and could find no titles magnificent enough for her children but those of the Sun and the Moon f
188
THE TRACE DIE OF
[act hi, sc. iy.
\Scene IK]
Enter Anthony and 06lauia. Ant. Nay, nay O^auia,i\ot onely that, That were excufable, that and thoufands more Of femblable import, but he hath wagfd New Warres ^gainft Pompey. Made his will, and read it. To publicke eare, fpoke fcantly of me. When perforce he could not But pay me tearmes of Honour : cold and fickly He vented then moft narrow meafuredent me. When the beft hint was giuen him : he not look't. Or did it from his teeth.
lO
Scene IV. Rowe et seq. Athens. Rowe. A Room in An- tony's House. Cap.
1-42. Om. Gfir.
2, 3. that^ That were\ that^-^that WeriUsX,
5. Pompey.] Pompey, Ff. Pompey ; Rowe et seq.
read t^,] read it Rowe et seq.
6, 'j./poke„.not'\ Sep. line, Cap. et seq. 6. fcantly\ scantily Theob. + , Van.
Ran. scant' ly Cap.
6. ofme^ of me ; Rowe et seq. (subs.)
7. IVhen perforce'] And when at any time perforce Han.
8. Honour :"] honour^ Rowe et seq.
9. then mofl .,.meafure:lent me^them ; most narrow measure lent me ; Rowe et
seq.
ID. him .*] Ff, Knt. him^ Rowe et cet not looJ^f] Ff, Knt, Coll. ii. had
look't F
••
had lookt FjF^. derlook'd
Rowe, Pope, not took't Thirlby, Tbeob. et cet. {not took it Varr. Ran.)
In Kemble's Acting Copy this scene follows and continues the next scene, Scene ▼, which is then trans]X)sed so as to follow Scene ii. Scene vii closes Act II.
5. New Warres] Deighton : That is, contrary to the agreement between us, and without asking my assent.
5. Made his will, etc.] According to Plutarch (see Appendix), it was Antony's Will which Caesar removed from the custody of the Vestal nuns ; after reading it him- self and noting * certain places worthy of reproach,' Ocsar ' assembled all the Senate and read it before them all. Whereupon divers were marvellously offended.' Of course there is some corruption in the text. Anthony could have no possible cause of complaint if Caesar chose to make his own Will and read it in public. The cor- ruption lies in the words * made his ' for which he who lists may easily substitute any words that will make the text conform to Plutarch. — Ed.
5, 6. will, ... it, ... of me,] Thiselton (p. 17) calls attention to these commas as indications of the ' impetuosity of Antony's utterance.' It is possible that Thisel- ton is right, but at the same time we must remember th«it no great dependence is to be placed on the punctuation of the Folio, which is somewhat remote from any authoritative contact with Shakespeare's own hand. — Ed.
6. scantly] .That is, slightingly.
8-10. Honour : . . . vented then . . . measure : . . . look't] The changes intro- duced by Rowe in this impossible punctuation, and the change by him of * vented then ' into ' vented them^ have been unanimously adopted by all succeeding editors.
ACT m. sc. iv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 189
06lauu Oh my good Lord, 12
Beleeue not all, or if you muft beleeue, Stomacke not all. A more vnhappie Lady, 14
13. fl//,] all; Pope.
Tolerable sense can be made even in the present text, with its present punctuation, until we come to the colon after * measure,' which leaves * lent me' inexpUcable, unless we suppose that it bears a meaning unknown elsewhere. Knight alone, among edi- tors, retains the colon after *giuen him.' In Booth's Reprint there is a semi-colon after * measure/ not a colon, as in my copy of F,. — Ed.
10. he not look't] Thirlby's emendation, ' he wxAiookU^ which has been adopted by nearly all editors, is to be found, without comment, in Nichols (Illtist, ii, 228). It means, of course, that Anthony did not take the * best hint,' and receives some con- firaiation, albeit very slight, from the spelling in the Folio, where the apostrophe in 'look't,' as an abbreviation of looked^ is somewhat unusual. Knight and Collier (ed. ii) are the only modern editors who adhere to the Folio. The former does not believe that the ' best hint ' is here referred to, but* on the contrary' he says, 'although it was hinted to Cesar when speaking that he should mention Antony with terms of honour, he lent him most narrow measure— cold and sickly. His demeanour is then more particularly described. He looked not upon the people as one who is addressing them with sincerity — he spoke from his teeth, and not with the full utter- ance of the heart.' Collier (ed. ii) retained look't because, I suppose, it had not been changed by his MS corrector, who had, however, changed ' not look't' to ' but k)ok't,' — an emendation which Collier did not adopt, because he doubted ' if there were any confusion here, for what Antony means to say is apparent enough as the text stands : Csesar would not look to avoid taking the least hint, or if he did look, and took the hint, his praise was superficial and insincere.' On this reading of Collier's MS Cor- rector, Dyce (Notes t p. 153) remarks that * it has not only great obscurity of expres- sion, but is also unsuited to what immediately follows : ** he but look'd, Or did it from his teeth." I have little doubt,' he adds, * that Thirlby's much simpler emendation (which alters only a single letter) restores the genuine reading.' Later, in his edition, Dyce is more emphatic and pronounces the emendation of Collier's MS ' little better than nonsense.' Later still, in his Strictures (p. 205) he criticises not the emendation of Collier's MS, but Collier himself for following the Folio. * What,* he asks, * could mduce Mr Collier to adopt here, in his new edition, the ridiculous reading of the lolio, which admits of nothing but a ridiculous explanation?' — Anon. (Blackwood, Oct. 1853, p. 467; supposed to be Lettsom) : «We may be pretty sure that [Thirlby's emendation] is the right reading, as it is assuredly the only one which makes sense.'— [Thirlby's change is so trifling, while the gain is so marked, that I think it may be adopted without heinous disloyalty to the Folio. — Ed.]
11. Or did it from his teeth] Steevens : Whether this means, as we now say, in spite of his teeth, or that he spoke through his teeth, so as to be purposely indis- tinct, 1 am unable to determine. — [Knight's interpretation is to be found in the pre- ceding note ; Collier's, which is virtually the same, is that * what Caesar said in praise of Antony came from no nearer his heart than his teeth.' Singer appositely quotes from the Adagia nonnulla in Withals's Dictionarie . . . deuised for the capacity of Children, 16 16, p. 562 : * Linguft amicus. A friend from the teeth outward.*]
14. Stomacke] That is, resent; as in II, ii, il.
190
THE TR AG ED IE OF
[act III, sc. iv.
K this deuifion chance^ ne're flood betweene
Praying for both parts :
The good Gods wil mocke me prefently,
When I (hall pray:Oh bleffe my Lord, and Husband,
Vndo that prayer, by crying out as loud.
Oh bleffe my Brother. Husband winne, winne Brother,
Prayes, and diftroyes the prayer, no midway
'Twixt thefe extreames at all.
15
20
22
16, 17. Praying, „me\ One line, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
Praying, „pre/etitly\ One line, Var.'78, '85, Mai. Var. '21.
17. The\ And the Steev. Var. '03, ' 13. Surey the Dyce ii, iii.
pre/ently] Om. Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. Cap. Var. '73, Ran,
18. pray'l praying Rowe.
Ok ... Husband'^ As quotation.
Theob. et seq. (snbs.)
18. my Lardy and Husband^ my husband! presently Cap. Var. '73. my husband I and presently Ran.
19. Vndo\ And undo YJdy, And then undo Words.
<?«/] Om. Words.
20. Oh ,„ Brother'\ As quotation, Theob.
21. midway'\ miie/icwi^ Cap. (Errata.)
16, 17. Prajring . . . presently] It is 'infinitely distressing' (as Sydney Smith would say) to note the attempts which have been here made to amend what is deemed the defective metre of these two fragmentary lines. That the emotion of the speaker should have here any influence is not to be for a moment considered ; in all circum- stances Shakespeare should be made to know that lines must have five feet, and to attain this end his words are to be at will lengthened, or compressed, or even omitted altogether. Rows and his followers read as one line, ' Praying for both parts : the good Gods will mock me,' and omit ' presently.' Steevens, in 1778, runs the two lines into an interminable one of fourteen syllables, and is followed in the union of the lines by Walker (Crit, iii, 301), who, however, reduces the number of sylla- bles by omitting 'good,' and by reading (can it be conceived?) 'praying' as a monosyllable ! (I had rather be a pagan, suckled in a prose outworn, than think heaven could be moved hj pra^ng.) In 1793, Steevens reverts to the division of the Folio, but pieces out the second line with an and^ * And the good Gods,' etc. Dyce follows Steevens, but rejects his and^ and substitutes instead, ' Sure the good Gods,' etc. Finally, Abbott (J 484), retaining the division of the Folio, refuses both Steevens's and and Dyce's sure, and beautifully counteracts Walker's irreverent pra^ng by a pious prolongation of « good ': * The gS \ od g6ds | will m6ck | me pr^s | entl/.' The ' vnhappie Lady's* broken heart and broken speech are all forgotten. —Ed.
17. presently] This word, which means, of course, immediately, Capell transfers to the end of the next line, reading, • When I shall pray, O, bless my husband! presently | Undo,* etc. which is harmless enough, had he only explained the con- struction of 'Undo,*— a difficulty which Rann, who followed him in transferring * presently,* observed and obviated. See Text, Nate 18. — Ed.
21, 22. no midway ... at all] Steevens : Compare King John, III, i, 331-6, where the situation and sentiments of Blanche resemble those of Octavia. — Deigh- ton refers to the similar case of Volumnia in Coriolanusy V, iii, 106-9.
ACT m, sc. tv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 191
Ant. Gentle Oilauia^ 23
Let your beft loue draw to that point which feeks Beft to prefenie it : if I loofe mine Honour^ 25
I loofe my felfe : better I were not yours Then your fo branchlefle. But as you requeiled, Your felfe (hall go between's^the meane time Lady, lie raife the preparation of a Warre Shall ftaine your Brother^ make your fooneft haft, 30
25, 26. Uo/e] lo/e F,F^. 30. ftaine\ strain Tlieob. Han. Cap.
27. yotir\ yours Ff et scq. stay Boswell, Coll. ii, iii (MS), Dyce ii,
28. b€tweetes'\ Ff, Rowe,+, Dyce, iii. Uem Joiccy (N, &» Qm, VII, xii, Wh. Sta. Glo. Cam. betiveen us Cap. et 343, 1891). slack Anon. ap. CanL
cet Brotherl ^oT^^x Bailey.
27. Then your so] Malone : This is one of the many mistakes that have arisen fiom the transcriber's ear deceiving him, your so and yours so being scarcely dis- tingoiihable in pronunciation. See line 34, below.
JO. ShaU staine your Brother] Theobald : But, sore, Antony, whose business here is to mollify Octavia, does it with a very ill grace : and 'tis a very odd way of m&djiog her, to tell her the ¥rar, he raises, shall * stain,' f. e, cast an odium upon her brother. I have no doubt, but we must read, with the addition only of a single letter -^ Shall sirain your brother ; ' f . e, shall lay him under constraints ; shall put him to inch shifts, that he shall neither be able to make a progress against, or to preju- dice me. Plutarch says, that Octavius, understanding the sudden and wonderful preparations of Antony, was astonished at it ; for be himself was in many wants, and the people were sorely oppressed with grievous exactions. — ^Johnson : I do not see hot ' stain ' may be allowed to remain unaltered, meaning no more than shame or disgrace, — Steeyens : So, in some anonymous stanzas among the poems of Surrey and Wyatt : ' here at hand approacheth one Whose face will stain you all.' Again, in Shares Wife^ by Churchyard, 1593 : * So Shore's wife's face made foule Browneta blush, As pearie staynes pitch, or gold surmounts a rush.' Again, in Churchyard's Ckariiie, 1595- 'Whose beautie staims the faire Helen of Greece.' — M alone: I believe a line betwixt these two has been lost, the purport of which probably was, 'unless I am compelled in my own defence, I will do no act that shrill stain,* etc. After Antony has told Octavia that she shall be a mediatrix between him and his adversary, it is surely strange to add that he will do an act that shall disgrace her brother. — Rann ingeniously reads *j/<w«, and explains it as standing for sustain, that is, « in defence of him.' — Boswell : Perhaps we should read : * Shall stay your brother;' shall check and make him pause in his hostile designs. — Singer: To * stain ' is not here used for to shame, or disgrace, as Johnson supposed ; but for to edipse, extinguish, throw into the shade, to put out ; from the Old French esteindre. In this sense it is used in all the examples quoted by Stcevens. — Staunton agrees with Singer as to the meaning of * stain,' but adds that * stay, suggested by Boswell, is more accordant with the context, and may easily have been misprinted ** stain." ' —Dyce (ed. i) : If 'stain' be right, it is equivalent io— throw into the shade; in which sense the word was formerly very common \ e.g. * She stains the ripest virgins of the age.'— Beaumont and Fletcher's Cupid's Revenge, II, ii ; 'I saw sixe gallant
192 THE TR AGED IE OF [act hi. sc. iv.
So your defires are yours. 31
061. Thanks to my Lx>rd, The loue of power make me moft weake, moft weake, You reconciler : Warres 'twixt you twaine would be, 34
33. moft ... weake^ although most 34. You\ Your Ff. weak^ Han.
nymphes, I saw but one, One stain' d them all . . . They borrowed beames from her star-staining eyes.* — Lord Sterling's Aurora^ sig. C 4., ed. 1604. — Walker (Crit, liiy 301 ) quotes the Folio text, and asks, * What does this mean ? Besides, would Antony speak thus to Octavia ? ' Whereto, Lettsom, Walker's editor, replies in a footnote, * Two very natural questions ! Is it too bold to read, — ** I'll raise no prepa- ration of war 7^ tusail your brother " ? The crept in from the line above, and expelled no, , , . Stain^ strain, and stay are alike nonsense.' — Ingleby (Sh. Her- meneutics, p. 96) : Certainly had ' strain ' been in the old text we should have been well satisfied with it. But while regarding that as facile princeps among the proposed substitutes, we hold it to be quite inferior to the word of the folio. Compromise would be a dilution of ' stain,' in the sense we believe Shakespeare to have intended. — Deighton quotes ' To dim his glory, and to stain the track Of his bright passage to the Occident' — Rich, II: III, iii, 66; ' Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,* — Sonn, xxzv, 3. — Br. Nicholson {N. &* Qu, VIII, i, 182, 1892) : No change seems to me to be required. Antony proudly says that his preparation will so show beside Caesar's that it will overpoweringly eclipse it or stain it, as also that it will stain the colour of Caesar's wishes to Antony's own. It will change or stain Caesar's gules to the olive colour of peace. Antony's greater preparation will so stain and colour Caesar and his purposes as to effect a total change in the latter; change them from thoughts of war to thoughts of the desirability and safety of peace. — [If we could but be perfectly sure that the effect on Caesar of Anthony's staining would be to evoke thoughts of peace, and not of somewhat excusable anger, Dr Nicholson's interpretation would be faultless and carry conviction. Unfortunately, however, prognostication is here doubtful, and ' stain ' cannot but convey a meaning which is, to say the least, uncomfortable. Hence the struggles of the critics to soften it But is there any need of softening it ? Be it as offensive as it will, it still remains the word of the text. Anthony's bearing towards Octavia is not deferential — ^hardly gentle. When he enters he is irritably dissenting from her, and we can see that he is providing for the speedy desertion of her, for which we were prepared, in the first hours after he was married, by his resolve to go to Egypt ; where his pleasure lay. — II, iii, 43.-ED.]
31. So 3rour desires are yours] That is, make the earliest haste, so that what you desire may become your own.
34- You reconciler] Walker (Crit, ii, 191) quotes this «You' in his list of instances where you and your have been confounded in the Folio, but Malone had already pointed out that the error arose from a confusion by the ear, due to the prox- imity of the two r's. See line 27, above.
34. Warres 'twixt jrou twaine would be, etc.] Heath (p. 458) : The sense seems to be. As you are joint masters of the world, which in your union is united^ so wars between you give an image of the cleaving of that world, and you both endeavouring to solder that cleft with the carcases of those who will be slain in the
ACT in, sc. v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 193
As if the world fliould cleaue^and that flaine men 35
Should foader vp the Rift.
Anth. When it appeeres to you where this begins^ Tume your difpleafure that way, for our faults Can neuer be fo equal!, that your loue
Can equally moue with them. Prouide your going, 40
Choofe your owne company, and command what coft Your heart he's mind too. Exeunt. 42
\Scene K]
Enter Enobarbus , and Eros . Eno, How now Friend Eros ? Eros. Ther's ftrange Newes come Sir. Eno. What man ?
Ero. Ca/ar&LepidushsLuemsLdtvrdLrresyponPompe}^, 5
Eno. This is old, what is the fucceffe ?
36. foader^ fodder F^F^, Rowe, Pope. war, . ,succe5s ?, . .wars., . rivalty: . . Jhem ;
solder Theob. . ,Jetters . . . Pompey. . . . himt . . . inlarge, . .
42. h€'s'\ hasYi. confim.Htin, lAnes end, upon.,, Casar,
Continue the scene. Rowe, + . Scene . . . Pompty^ . . . him . . . not . . ,had . . Mppealy
V. Cap. et seq. ...Death.,. confine. Ktly.
The same. Another Room in the 5. warres'\ Warre F,. War F^F^,
same. Cap. Rowe, + .
1-25. Om. Gar. vp<m\ on Han.
I. Enter...] Enter... meeting. Cap. 6. old^'\ old ; Pope.
4. What'\ What, Rowe. what m] what^s Han.
5>I2. Cselar... Confine.'\ Lines end,
contest — [Quoted with approval by Hudson.] — ^Johnson : The sense is, that war between Caesar and Antony would engage the world between them, and that the slaughter would be great in so extensive a commotion.
6-12. This is old, . . . his Confine] Capell (i, 38) : The mixture of prose and Terse in this scene, is a blemish that cannot be remedy* d without the exercise of such liberties as are hardly justifiable in an editor : [Hanmer] has put the prose into measure ; but such measure as the ear will be startl'd with: it will run something better in the way that shall now be prop^s'd, first observing — that * owne* [in 1. ii ; see Johnson's note] must go out, as being absolute nonsense : *Eno. Pho ! this is old; What's the success? | Era. Casar^ having made use of him in the wars | 'Gainst Pompey ^ presently deny'd him rivalty ; | Would not let him partake i' the glory : And | Not resting here, accuses him of letters | He had formerly wrote [pr^ Wrote formerly] to Pompey : seizes him | On his appeal ; so the poor third is up, | 'Till death enlarge his confine. | ' If the publick can relish it thus, it is at their service : and, to speak the truth, they should relish it ; for, independent of other consider- ations, the prose that is given them in the text is every whit as offensive to the ear as even this verse. — [As given in the Text. Notes, Hanmer' s division of these lines is almost unintelligible, owing to his textual emendations, which must be followed up
13
194 ^^^ TRACED IE OF [act m, sc. v.
Eros. Ca/ar hauing made vfe of him in the waires 7
'gainft Pompeyx prefently denied him riuality, would not let him partake in the glory of the a£)ion, and not refling here, accufes him of Letters he had formerly wrote to 10
Pampey. Ypon his owne appeale feizes him^ fo the poore third is vp, till death enlarge his Confine. 12
7. m tk*\ Vtk' Han. Hmn.
8. Fompey.-] Pompty, Pope. la kt\ wJkuJk Jk^ Han. nf«M/ti(y] rivaUy Rowe ii. Pope, wr9te\ writUn Han.
Tlieob. Han. Warb. Cap. II. Pompey.] Fompey; O^ ct aeq.
9w in ike\ of the Rowe» Pope, Han. (so^)
eftkt] 9fY^. cwme^ Om. Cap.
iJU m/Hfim^ and im^] tkem; Noi f''*^^ JU seizes Han.
in the TexL AW^ as they occnr. The subject is noC impoitant enough to ha^te the space allotted to it which a reprint of the whole passage would hare lequiied.] — Dkuus (Sk, Jkr^mck, V, 268) : In this Scene, the first speedies between Enobaibas and Eros, which are historical merely, to keep the andience abreast of the times, are in prose, and rise to blank Terse only when £ix>barbQS, in wovds, whidi are hnmo«zr- ons yet tinged with feeling, apostrophises the world which most now throw all its food to the two sarriving trinmTirs^
6. successe ?] Staitnton : That is. What follows? What is the npshol?
& preaem]^] SciimDT (Lex.) tnditdes this 'presently* in his list of esan^es meaning not immediately^ bnt shortly. Of course, the dectsfon will largely depend OB our estimate of Cxsar's character. I prefer to think thai Caesar acted with his accustomed promptitude, and, as soon as Lepidns ceased to be of any use to him, instandy deposed him. In RiLk. Ill: IV, ii, 26, there is a striking instance of the use of ^ presently * in the sense of immediately^ where we dioald assuredly expect ^he meaning shortly : Richard demands an immediate consent of Bockingham to &e mnrder of the two yonng princes ; Buckingham pleads for delay, for *■ scoae bceatl^ some little panse * and cooclodes with the promise ' I will resclve you herein pres- ently/ Assuredly, this can mean nothing else bat shortly^ and yet the Qq^ whidi a majority of the editors believe haTe preserved the purer text^ read * immc^ately/ —Ed.
8. riuaHty] Johnson : That is, equal rank. — Steetens : So, in Hamlet, Horafio and Marcellus are styled by Beroardo ' the rivals ' of his watch.
It. VpOQ his owne appenle] Johnsok: To * appeal/ in Shakespeare, is to accuse; Caesar seized Lepidus without any other proof than Caesar's accusatxm. — [When Capell omitted *own,* it b to be feared that he fiiiled to onderstaod the text which Johnson has so justly interpreted. — Ed. J
It, 12. the poore third is vp] Schmidt {L^x. s, v. 6) defines 'up* in sentence as equivalent to ^ in confinement ; ' wherein be has been virtnalTy followed by one or two editors who ha^e dedned it as equivalent to skmt up. Schmidt hioa- self had followed Delias, as is so often his wont : Delius thus translates the phrase^ *^dec arme Triumvir ist lebeoslSnglich eingesteckt,' whereto he was led, I diinlL, as indeed were all the others^ by the second clause, ' till death enlarge his ccmfigm* But I doubt that this is the meaning here. To me it rather conveys the meanto^ <if Jmitked^ dome^ as in the current phrase* 'the giame is up.* The phrase^ «^k
Acrni, sc. v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 195
Eno. Then would thou hadft a paire of chapsn o more, 1 3
and throw betweene them all the food thou haft, tliey'le grinde the other. Where's Anthony^ 15
15-15. TX/iv... Anthony f[ lines end, Warb. Var. '73 et seq. wtore: ,,. host .,. Antony f Han. Cap. et 15. ike other\ eaek other Han. Ran.
seq. Coll. one tk* other Heath, the one the
13. Then„,hadft'\ Then, World! thou other Qx^, Mai. et seq. hast Han. Cap. Mai. et seq. Where ^l Where is Han CoU. Wh.
chapsn o more,"] chaps, no more, Hal. Ktly. Theob. Johns, chaps, no more; Han.
Parliament is ap,' * the Court is up/ quoted by The Century Dictionary, are hardly parallel, inasmuch as there may be the subaudition in them of rising up from their teats when the session is over. * Till death enlarge his confine ' may merely refer to no other confinement than the muddy vesture of decay which hems us all in, — Ed.
13. Then would thou hadst a paire of chapsn o more] Since the days of Malone's edition in 1790, the list is unbroken of editors who have accepted Han- Mia's emendation, *Then, world,* Hudson explains that 'a pair of chaps' is ' smply an upper and a lower jaw ' ; and Malone that * no more ' means < and only a pair.' Johnson paraphrases the whole sentence, * Caesar and Antony will make war on each other, though they have the world to prey upon between them.'
14. throw betweene them all the food, etc.] Heath (p. 458) : I apprehend this reflection is intended as a satire on the insatiable and incompatible nature of ambition, which no acquisitions can content, nor any considerations can reconcile to endure a partner.
14, 15. they'le grinde the other] In referring to the emendation, 'they'll grind the one the other,' Lettsom (Walker, Crit, ii, 259, footnote) observes that it 'seems to be the joint property of Capell and Johnson.' Johnson assuredly proposed it in hit edition published in 1765. Capell's edition (in which the emendation appears in the text printed in black letter as an indication that it is not in the original) is undated, but his Preface is dated 1767 ; and in a note on p. 18 of his Intro- duetion, he gives the dates at which his volumes went irregularly to the press : * the first sheet of this work,' he says, • (being the first of volume 2) went to the press in September, 1760 : and this volume was foUow'd by volume 8 [the volume contain- ing the present play], 4, 9, I, 6, and 7 ; the last of which was printed off in August, 1765.' Guided by this note, I have hitherto uniformly assumed that vol. 8 was printed in 1761, four years before Johnson's edition. But Capell nowhere says that his volumes were issued in the years they were printed ; hence, for aught we can tell, they may have all appeared on the same day in 1766 or 1767, a full year lag of Johnson's. The fact, therefore, appears to be that, as regards the present emen- dation, to Capell belongs the priority of devising and of printing, and to Johnson the priority of publication, and it is publication that confers the prize and decides the ownership. Unfortunately for both critics, however, it is to be feared that their claims may be somewhat shorn of their glory. Heath's Rrvisal of Shakespearis Text appeared in 1765, before either Johnson's edition or Capell's,— both refer to it. On p. 458, Heath remarks that there seemed to be an error in the present phrase which •may be thus corrected, " They'll grind one th' other," ' which certainly contains the gemi, afterwards expanded by both Capell and Johnson into *the one the other;'
196 THE TRACED IE OF [act hi, sc v.
Eros. He^s walking in the garden thus, and fpumes 16
The rufti that lies before him. Cries Foole LepiduSy And threats the throate of that his Officer, That murdred Pampey.
Eno. Our great Nauies rig'd. 20
Eros. For Italy and Cce/arjVaoT^ Domititis^ My Lord defires you prefently : my Newes I might haue told heareafter.
Eno, ^Twillbe naught, but let it be : bring me to Anthony,
Eros. Come Sir, Exeunt. 25
16. garden MmxJ garden thus; 1 8. Mr^o/f] Mr^ra/ Han. ii (misprint) Thcob. + ,Cap. garden-^ihus ;WBX,'^% 20. Nauies'\Navie'sY^^, Naiy'sY^. et seq. (subs.) 21. Csefar, m^r^] Qesar ; mere Kowt,
17. Cries'] Crys, Rowe. Qesar, More, Johns, ct seq.
Foole Lepidus] As quotation, 24. hi/ ... Anthony] Separate line,
Theob. Han. Cap. et seq.
their 'joint property' turns out, therefore, to be the priceless asset of the definite article. — Ed.
16. in the garden thus] Wherever in Capell's text there appears a dagger inserted between words or phrases, it is an indication of some action to be taken by the speaker. For instance, where Cleopatra says to the Messenger, ' there is gold, and here My bluest veins to kiss,' the lines thus appear in Capell's text : 'there is f gold and here f My bluest veins to kiss,' indicating that Cleopatra extends one hand with gold and the other to be kissed ; it would be truly deplorable were an actress to suppose that Egypt's queen uses her feet on this occasion, and against this easy error Capell kindly does all he can to protect her. In the present line, after ' garden ' Capell unsheaths a dagger, which means, I suppose, that Eros imitates Anthony's impatient strides. Here the little dagger is not too intrusive, albeit the end would have been gained by a dash, which Steevens, possibly taking the hint from Capell, adopted, and has been followed herein by all editors ever since. — Ed.
21. more Domitius] Johnson: I have something more to tell you, which I might have told at first and delayed my news. Antony requires your presence.— [In a note on « Conlord,' II, vii, 6, I stated that the ignorant haphazard guesses of George Gould would possibly cumber these pages no more. If anything be needed to justify this decision, a note on * Domitius ' by that critic will supply it. It is as follows : * This is a curious misrendering of manuscript, as there are only Eros and Enobarbus, whom he is addressing, on the scene, and as there is no Domitius in the play. Eros simply tells Enobarbus that Antony is waiting for him.' There is no need to moralise the spectacle of attempts to amend the language of Shakespeare by one who has not even read over the Dramatis Persona in any conmion edition. As far as George Gould is concerned, in these pages, the rest is silence. — Ed.]
24. 'Twillbe naught] Capell (i, 38) : This has no relation to Eros' last words, but means, — the event will be naught ; and is spoke with a look of much thought- fulness, and after a silence of some length.
Acrm, sc. vi] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 197
\Scene VL\
Enter Agrippa^ Mecenas , and Ccefar. Qb/. Contemning Rome he ha's done all this^ & more In Alexandria : heere's the manner of ^t : Pth'Market-pIace on a Tribunall filuer'd,
Cleopatra and himfelfe in Chaires of Gold 5
Were publikely enthronM : at the feet, fat OEfarion whom they call my Fathers Sonne, 7
Scene V. Rowe, + . Scene VI. C^. 3. manner\ matter F^F^, Rowe, Pope,
et seq. Han.
Rome.Rowe. The Palace in Rome. ^^] Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. of it
Theob. A Room in Caesar's house. Ff et cet.
Csp. 4. on a\on a aY^,
1. Enter...] Enter Caesar, Agrippa, 7. Caefarion] Cafario Rowe, Pbpe, and Mecaenas. Rowe. Theob. Warb. Johns.
2. hds\ has FjF^. Fathers\ father F,.
2, 3. Contemning Rome . . . oft] Capell (i, 38) : The punctuation of former editions, old and new, sets this line and the next in a light that is not true, the truth of it being as follows. Caesar enters in converse with some to whom he has been giving various instances of Antony's ill behaviour, and goes on to another and greater that happen'd at Alexandria; and, in entering upon it, puts into their hands the dis- patch he received it by. — [Of Capell's punctuation of this passage no note appears to have ever been taken ; possibly because, being a matter of CapelPs individual prefer- ence, it is impossible to gainsay it. It is like Henderson's reading * many a time, — and oft on the Rialto.' Capell thus reads : ' Contemning Rome, he has done all this: And more ; | In Alexandria, — here's the manner of it, — | I'the market-place,' etc. (In Capell' s version, which he made for Garrick, the lines read : « Contemning Rome, he <&/all this: And once^ \ In Alexandria, — here's the manner of it,' etc.) Surely this punctuation has much to commend it. — Ed.]
3. In Alexandria, etc.] See Plutarch, Appendix,
6. at the feet] This is *at their feet' in Collier's Monovolume, 1853, which is sapposed to contain all changes made by his MS. The change is trifling and pos- sible.—Ed.
7. my Fathers Sonne] Julius Caesar was the great uncle of Octavius. That he is here called his * father ' is, possibly, due to a passage in Plutarch's Life of Brutus (p. 1063, ed. 1595; P- '23, cd. Skeat) where we find that Octavius Caesar « was the Sonne of lulius Caesars Nece, whom he had adopted for his sonne, and made his hcire, by his last will and testament But when lulius Caesar his adopted father was alaine, he was,' etc. At the first glance, it seems as though there were here two separate legal acts : an adoption as a son and the making of an heir ; in reality there was but one. It was only by Caesar's Will that Octavius became an adopted son, and this was evidently so unusual and doubtful a process that Octavius afterward had the adoption confirmed by the curiae. *The phrase of "adoption by testament" (Cic. Brutus, 58) seems,' says Prof. George Long (Smith's Diet. Greek and Roman Antiquities, s. v. Adoptio) * to be rather a misapplication of the term ; for though a
198 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act hi, sc vi.
And all the vnlawfuU iflfue^ that their Luft 8
Since then hath made betweene them. Vnto her, He gaue the ftablifliment of Egypt^ made her lO
Of lower Syria, Cyprus,Lydia, abfolute Queene.
Mece. This in the publike eye ?
Ca/ar. Ttfa'common ftiew place, where they exercife, His Sonnes hither proclaimed the King of Kings, Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia 15
He gaue to Alexander. To Ptolomy he aflign'd, Syria, Silida, and Phoeneda : (he In th'abiliments of the Goddefle IJis 18
11. Of^-Lydia] One line, Rowe ii 14. proclaimed'] proclaimed F,F^ et et seq. seq.
Lydial Lybia Upton, Johns. the Kmg'\ Yi, the kimgs Rowe
12. in\is Ff. et seq.
13. Jhew place] skeiv-place Rowe. l6. Ptolomy] Ptolemy F^F^.
exercife^] exercise, Thcob. he] Om. Han.
14. hither] Ff. were there Rowe, 17. PActnetia] Fhemicia Ff.
P6pe, Theob. Han. Warb. he there 18. th'aHliwtents] the hahiUmemis
Johns, et cet. Rowe ii et seq.
man or woman might by testament name a heres, and impose the condition of the heres taking the name of the testator or testatrix, this so-called adoption could not pioduce the effects of a proper adoption. It could give to the person so said to be adopted, the name or property of the testator or testatrix, but nothing more. Niebuhr (Lectures^ vol. ii, p. loo) speaks of the testamentary adoption of C. Octavius by C. Julius Csesar, as the first that he knew of; but the passage of Cicero in the Brutui and another passage i^Ad Hirt. viii, 8) show that other instances had occurred before. A person on passing from one gens into another, and taking the name of his new Cunilia, generally retained the name of his old gens also, with the addition to it of the termination -anus (Cic ad Att. iii, 20, and the note of Victorius). Thus, C. Octavius, afterwards the Emperor Augustus, upon being adopted by the testm- ment of his uncle, the dictator, assumed the name of Caius Julius Csesar Octavianus ; but he caused the adoption to be confirmed by the curix. As to the testamentary adoption of C. Octavius, see Drumann, Gesckichte Ronu. i, 337, and the references there given.* Were there any proof that Shakespeare had ever read Dion Cassius, I should not have referred to Plutorch as the possible source of this use of 'father.* Dion Cassius speaks over and over again of Julius Caesar as the father of Octavius. —Ed.
II. Lydia] Upton (p. 243) changed *Lydia' to LyHa, on the authority of the original Greek of Plutarch. But Shakespeare merely followed North's Translation. M. Mason calls attention to line 76 of this scene where * Bochus * is called * the King of Lybia,* thereby proving that * the present reading [Lydia] is right.*
14. Sonnes hither proclaimed] In 'hither* there is another mishearing.
18. In th'abiliments] Murray (M E, D.) : Obsolete form of HaHliment, used in all the senses, but especially in those of warlike munitions and accoutrements.
ACT III, sc. vi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA 199
That day appeer'd, and oft before gaue audience,
As ^tis reported fo. 20
Mece. Let Rome be thus informM.
Agri. Who queazie with his infolence already, Will their good thoughts call from him.
Ca/ar. The people knowes it, And haue now receiuM his accufations. 25
Agri. Who does he accufe ?
Cafar. Cce/ar ^dJid that hauing in Cicilie Sextus Pompeitis fpoil'd, we had not rated him His part o'th'Ifle. Then does he fay, he lent me Some (hipping vnreftor'd. Laftly, he frets 30
That Lepidus of the Triumpherate, (hould be deposM, And being that, we detaine all his Reuenue.
Agri. Sir,this (hould be anfwer^d. 33
20. reported f6\ reported^ fo Ff ct seq. 27. and that'\for that Han.
(except Var. *2I.) Cicilie\ Sicily Rowe.
21-23. Let,.,him.'\ Lines end, thus,.. 31, 32. That,.. Reuenue'^ Lines end,
intoUnee...him. Han. Cap. Var. '78 et Triumvirate ...detain... revenue. '^o^t
seq. (except Knt.) et seq.
22. Agri.] Om. Han. 31. Triumpherate,"] Triumvirate, Ff.
24, 25. The...receitid'\ One line. Pope triumvirate Rowe ii et seq.
ct seq. 32. And being that,"] F,, Rowei. And
24. kmnves] hum F^F^ ct seq. being that FjF^. And being, that Rowe
26. Wb] Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. Hal. ii. Pope, Han. and, being that^Wzx. *2I. whom Ff et cet. and^ being, that Theob. et cet.
does] dds F^F^, Rowe i. 33. an/wer'd] an/werdY^. anfwered
27. Cselar,] C4Esar ; Theob. Warb. et F^F^, Rowe i. seq.
things which fitted out or made able for war. — Ibid. (s. v. Habiliment, 4 plural) : The apparel, vestments or garments appropriate to any office or occasion. (In this sense initial h has always prevailed ; the connection with able, tUnliiy^ bong less obvious, and that with modem French habit, habillement more so. )
30, 31. he frets That Lepidus of the Triumpherate, should be depos'd] See n, iii, 30, where Abbott and Franz are quoted, who would explain this * of ' as grammatically following 'should be deposed.' This use of *of * after 'depose* is the accepted idiom ; see the examples in the N. E. D. (j. v. depose, f 4, f b). At the same time it may be observed from the punctuation of the Ff (nowhere followed since Rowe, ed. ii), that the compositor did not recognize this idiom, but supposed the sense to be, as it is quite possible it may be, ' he frets that Lepidus, he of the Tri- umvirate, should be deposed.' — Ed.
32. And being that, we detaine] The Text. Notes reveal the various punctu- ations to which these words have been subjected, without, it must be acknowledged, greatly affecting the sense. The most idiomatic appears to be that of Theobald, adopted by the majority of editors. Abbott*s remark ($ 404, quoted at II, ii, 42) then Implies, which explains < being ' as equivalent to ii being to.
200 THE TRACED IE OF [act hi. sc. vi.
Ccefar. 'Tis done already , and the Meflenger gone : I haue told him Lepidus was growne too cruelly 35
That he his high Authority abusM, And did deferue his change : for what I haue conquered, I grant him part : but then in his Armenia, And other of his conquered Kingdoms, I demand the like
Mec. HeeU neuer yeeld to that. 40
Ccef. Nor muft not then be yeelded to in this. Enter 06lauia with her Traine.
06la. Haile Ccefary and my L. haile moft deere Ca/ar.
Ccefar. That euer I fliould call thee Caft-away.
06la, You haue not call'd me fo, nor haue you caufe. 45
Ccef. Why haue you ftoln vpon vs thus/you come not Like Ca/ars Sifter, The wife of Anthony 47
34. the] his Ff, Rowe, +. a Coll. '53. 39. /he /the] the like, F^ et seq.
35. / haue told] I told Rowe ii, + , 40. neuer] »/Vr Theob. u, Waib. Vai'.'73. Pve told Dyce ii, iii. 41. mujl not] must he Pope^ Theob.
36. he his] his Ff. Han Warb.
37. change: for] chance for Ff. 42. with her Traine.] with AUend- chance. For Rowe. change. For Pope, ants. Rowe. Om. Cap.
-H, Var. '73. 43. my Z.] my LordY^^,
I haue] I've Pope, + , Dyce ii, 46. haue you] haft thou F(, Rowe,
iii. Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. Cap.
38. his] this Han. ii. vpon vs] upon me Ff, Rowe, Pope,
39. And,,, I] Separate line, Rowe et Han.
seq. come] came Ff, Rowe.
34. Messenger] Walker {^Vers, 200) scans this word as a <quasi-disyllable.' Does there not lie in this < quasi ' a confession of weakness, nay, timidity ? What honest man who loves the music of his English tongue would openly assert that we must adopt, in poetry (of all loves !), such words as messgers, passgersf Abbott (5 468) follows Walker and observes that «any unaccented syllable of a poly- syllable may be sometimes softened and almost ignored,* and would fain have as imagine that the tripping dactyl 'messenger* is softened when uttered as a grim spondee, messger, — Ed.
42. with her Traine] Capell omitted these words because, I presume, he noted that Caesar says to Octavia * you are come A market-maid to Rome ; ' in this omission he was followed by every editor down to Collier, who revives the present stage^iirection and remarks, * there can be no possible reason for following the example of modem editors by omitting these words. It must have been a small train ; she had not "an army for an usher,** as appears by what follows, but she was not wholly unattended, according to the practice of the stage when the Folio was printed.*
43. Haile Caesar, and my L.] Deighton : Her salutation is to him not only as Caesar, ruler of Rome, but as one to whom as the head of her family she owes allegiance.
47. The wife of Anthony, etc.] Corson (p. 296) : The extravagance of Caesar's language is evidently designed to exhibit his insincerity.
ACT III, sc. vi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 201
Should haue an Army for an Vfher^ and 48
The neighes of Horfe to tell of her approach.
Long ere (he did appeare. The trees by'thVay 50
Should haue borne men, and expe6lation fainted,
Longing for what it had not. Nay, the duft
Should haue afcended to the Roofe of Heauen,
RaisM by your populous Troopes : But you are come
A Market-maid to Rome, and haue preuented 55
The oftentation of our loue ; which left vnfhewne,
Is often left vnlouM : we (hould haue met you 57
50. byth'^ F,. by M' F^F^. by tfu Cap. Steev. Var. '03, '13.
Cap. et seq. 57. Uft^ felt ^xng. conj. Huds.
51. bome\ Fj. bam F F^, Rowc, Pope, vnlou^d^ unpriaed or uncared/ar Han. Cap. or unknown Bailey.
56. oflentati4m] ostent Theob. Han.
56. The ostentation] Theobald : I dare say the poet wrote : < The oiteniy s. e. the shewing, token, demonstration of oar love ; and he uses it both in these accept- ations, and likewise to signify ostentation. The Alexandrine therefore is wholly unnecessary. [Theobald here gives examples of ostent from the Mer, of Ven, and Hen. V. Steevrns appropriated this emendation of Theobald, even to the illus- tiBtions from the Mer. of Ven. and Hen. V. ; these, he calmly remarks, ' sufficiently anthorize [ostent'] the slight change I have made.' Not unnaturally. Walker was dnis misled when (Crit. iii, 302) he made the following note] : * Steevens, perceiv- ing the defect in the verse, reads, — ostent ; which word, however, is always pro- noonced by Shakespeare ostint ; neither am I sure that he would have used it in this sense. I suspect that the true reading is ostention (properly ostenston). This is nesier to the common text. Shakespeare is continually coining words from the Latin.'
57. Is often left vnlou'd] Collier (ed. ii) : *Is often Ae/d unlov'd,' says the MS ; but with doubtful fitness. — Singer {SA. Vind. p. 293) : The word felt, by a common accident at press, may have been jumbled into * left/ consisting of the same letters. — Anon. (Blackwood, Oct 1853, p. 467) : If either of these emendations were adopted, we should require to read, * is often felt unloving^ and this the measure will not permit. We therefore stand by the old text, the meaning of which we conceive to be — love which is left unshown is often left unretumed. — Staunton : With more likelihood we should read, * Is often left unprii^d: • Unlov'd ' is a very problemati- cal expression here, and appears to have been partly formed by the compositor from the word • love * in the preceding line. — Hudson [adopting Singer's felt\ : The passage b commonly so pointed as to make * which,' referring to * love,' the subject of is felt ; whereas it should be the clause itself, — * which being left unshown,* or * the leaving of which unshown.' — Corson (p. 297) : * Is often left unloved ' means, deprived of its chaxacter as love. — Schmidt (Lex. s. v. Unloved) : That is, not felt ; to love a lave being A similar phrase, as, for instance, to think a thought ; compare * what ruins are in me . . . by him not rained ? ' Com. Err. II, i, 96. * the want that you have wanted.* Lear, ly iy 2S2. — [The meaning of * left unloved ' may be, as Schmidt says, * not felt,' but the
202 ^ THE TRACED IE OF [act hi, sc. vL
By Sea, and Land, fupplying euery Stage 58
With an augmented greeting.
0£la. Good my Lord, 60
To come thus was I not conftrain'd, but did it On my free-will. My Lord Marke Anthony ^ Hearing that you prepared for Warre, acquainted My greeued eare withall .• whereon I begged His pardon for retume. 65
CcBf. Which foone he granted, Being an ab(lra6l 'tweene his Lufl,and him. 67
62. On\ OfQjoW, '53. 67. abftraO] Ff, Rowc, Pope, Knt,
64. greeufd'] grieving Ff, Rowe, + , Del. obstruction Ktly. obstacle Cait- Cap. Var. '73. wright obstruct Theob. ct cet
learned German is, I think, far astray when he holds the present phrase to be an instance of the common construction of a verb with its cognate accusative ; nor are either of the examples which he quotes parallels to the present phrase. He was misled, I think, by the jingle of the words. Adriana asks, < what ruins are there in me which cannot be found to have been made ruins by him ? ' So, too, Cordelia deserves to experience the want of that affection in which she had herself been wanting. In what respect are these two examples parallel in construction to * the ostentation of love which when left unshown is not felt ' ? Of course, in the three paraphrases just given, cognate accusatives cannot be found, and for the simple reason that they do not exist in the original sentences ; herein lay Dr Schmidt's error. In the interpretation of the present phrase it seems to me that there has been a mis- apprehension of the person by whom the love is felt. The generally accepted mean- ing seems to be that if there is no expression of love, love will soon cease to esdsL This, however, implies the possibility that Caesar's love for his * dearest sister ' might grow cold, which is hardly an expression of deep fraternal feeling. It amounts almost to a threat. Whereas, Caesar is pleading tenderly for himself, with gentle reproaches because Octavia has given him no chance to show his love for her, and urges that if there is no demonstration of his love she will soon cease to care whether he loves her or not, his love will be no longer prized ; it becomes unvalued, * unloved.' —Ed.]
65. pardon] Schmidt (Z^'x.) : Sometimes almost equivalent to leave, permission. 67. an abstract] Theobald : If Mr Pope or any other of the editors understand
this [< abstract'], I'll willingly submit to be taught the meaning; but till then, I must believe, the Poet wrote, * an obstruct ^^ i. e. his wife being an obstruction, a bar, to the prosecution of his pleasures with Cleopatra. And I am the rather convinced that this is the true reading, because Mr Warburton started the emendation too, unknowing that I had meddled with the passage. — [Warburton in his edition made no allusion to Theobald, but set forth the emendation as wholly his own, while repeating Theobald's very words in defining obstruct,'] — Steevens : I am by no means certain that this change lobstruct"] was necessary. Henley pronounces it to be < need- less, and that it ought to be rejected, as perverting the sense.' One of the meanings of abstracted is — separcUed^ disjoined; and therefore our poet, with his usual licence.
ACT m, sc. vi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 203
0£la. Do not fay fo, my Lord. 68
Caf. I haue eyes vpon him, And his affaires come to me on the wind:wher is he now? 70
0£la. My Lord, in Athens.
CcBfar. No my moft wronged Sifter, Cleopatra Hath nodded him to her. He hath giuen his Empire Vp to a Whore, who now are leuying The Kings o'th'earth for Warre. He hath affembled, 75
70. And ,., wind'] One line, Rowe et 74. who now are] and now the^rt seq. Words.
whtr is he] Where ^ say you^ he is are] is Gip. conj. Ran.
Cap. 75-^3- He,,. Scepters] Om. Gar.
71. in] he is in Han. 75. JJe] She dp. conj. Ran. 74. who] they Coll. MS, Ktly. affembled] diffembUdY^^,
■ ' ' ' ■ — i^^^«^B^^«^^^-^^ I ■am B - . . I. - ■^m^mm^^m^^^^^
might have used it for a disjunctive, I believe there is no such substantive as obstruct : besides, we say, an obstruction to a thing, but not between one thing and another. As Mr Malone, however, is contented with Dr Warburton's reading, I hive left it in our text. — Knight : Although < abstract ' may be used with sufficient licence, it gives as the meaning which the poet would express, that Octavia was aomething separating Anthony from the gratification of his desires. It is better to hold to the original, seeing that Shakespeare sometimes employs words with a meaning peculiar to himself. His boldness may not be justified by example, — but his meaning has always reference to the original sense of the word. — Singer : An abstract between is surely nonsense. — Collier (ed. ii) : < Abstract ' — a mere mis- print, which is set right in the MS. [i,e. by obstruct.] — Deli us : * Abstract* is equivalent to abbreznation^ abridgement^ shortenings and refers to the 'pardon for return.* Anthony gladly granted Octavia' s return to Rome, because therein lay an abridgement or curtailing of the hindrances between his lust and him ; that is, between the lovers now separated by Octavia* s presence. The majority of editors refer 'abstract* to Octavia, instead of properly to 'which.* — Schmidt {Lex, s. v. Abstract) : That is, the shortest way for him and his desires, the readiest opportunity to encompass his wishes. — [To me, Delius*s definition of 'abstract,* with its reference to < which,* carries conviction ; it is justly drawn from the strict meaning of the word. Schmidt* s paraphrase is weak and inferior to that of Delius, from which it is, not improbably, derived. I cannot find 'abstract,* as here used, in the N. E, D,; of obstruct^ Dr Murray says, ' not otherwise known * than here in Theobald's emendation. In a choice between a word coined by Shakespeare and one coined by Theobald, I prefer the former, even were it as dark as. ignorance. — Ed.]
70, 71. wber is he now? My Lord, in Athens] Inasmuch as this is printed as one line since the days of Rowe, albeit lacking a syllable. Walker (CnV. ii, 145) conjectured that at the end of the line Caesar exclaims No (in addition to the ' No* beginning line 72). Walker adds, * The omission of a word or words at the end of a line, not altogether unfrequent in the Folio, appears to have happened oftener than usual in the latter part of this play.*
749 75* ^ho i^^ ^^^ leuying . . . He hath] Capell (i, 38) : The lines should be read thus, 'who now is levying . . . She hath.' — Malone : That is, which two persons now are levying, etc.
204
THE TRACED IE OF
[act III, sc. vi.
Bochus the King of Lybia, Archilaus
Of Cappadocia, Philadelphos King
Of Paphlagonia : the Thracian King AduUaSy
King Matichus of Arabia, King of Pont,
Herod of lewry, Mithridates King
Of Comageat, Polemen and AmintaSy
The Kings of Mede, and Licoania,
With a more larger Lift of Scepters.
061a. Aye me moft wretched. That haue my heart parted betwixt two Friends, That does af (lift each other. (breaking forth
Ci?/IWelcom hither : your Letters did with-holde our Till we perceiuM both how you were wrong led. And we in negligent danger : cheere your heart.
76
80
85
89
76-82. Lybia ... Licoania^ Libya; ... Capp€ulocia / . . . Paphlagonia ; . . ,Adallas ; „. Arabia ;..,Medes ;.,,Jmury ;,,. Coma- gene / . . . Lycaonia ; Cap.
76. Bochus] Bocchtu Theob. Archilaus] Archelaus Theob.
78. Adullas] Adallas Rowe.
79. Mauchus] MaHchus Rowe. Mai- chus Theob.
King^ the King Ktly. 81. Comageat'\ Comagene'Rome. Com- ageni Ktly.
Polemen] Polemon Theob. Amintas] Amyntas Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam.
82,83. 7:i^...W^;4fl] One line, Steev. Varr. Sing. Dyce.
82. The ,,. Licoania\ Of Lycaonia; and the JCing 0/ Mede. Ran.
Jdngs] King Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Warb.
Licoania"] Lycaonia Ff.
83. more'] Om. Han. Cap.
84. Aye] Ff. Ah Han. Cap. Ran. Stecv. Varr. Knt, Coll. Ktly. Ay Rowe et cet.
86. does] doe Ff.
87. fVe/com hither] Separate line, F^ et seq.
88. perceiiid]perceivedCap.VtiT, *yS, '85, Ran. Coll. ii, Sta. Ktly, Dyce ii, iii.
wrong led] wronged Cap. Sta. Dyce ii, iii. wrongedWsx. '73, Ran. Sing. Coll. (MS), Ktly. be-wronged Dtn.
7^-82. In comparing this list with Plutarch (see Appendix) Upton (p. 238) detected certain discrepancies which he obviated by omitting * King of Pont,' in line 79 (Polemen, in line 81, is the King of Pont) ; and by reading lines 81, 82 < Amintas of Lycaonia ; and the king of Mede.' Whereby the two lists harmonise. Capbll attained the same result more simply, perhaps, by reading * King of Afedes* (Mede^ Heath conj.) in line 79, and in line 82, * The Kings of Pont and Lycaonia,' — a con- jecture of Heath. Johnson remarked, however, that < it is probable that the author did not much wish to be accurate.' Dyce justly observes that the old text is doubt- less what the author wrote.
79. King of Pont] Keightley reads * the King of Pont ' and suggests {Exp. 316) the probability that * a proper name has been lost.'
83. more larger] For double comparatives, see Abbott, §11.
89. negligent danger] Capell (i* 39) : That is, in danger from negligence. — Deuxts : Shakespeare frequently uses adjectives combining both an active and a
ACT in, sc. vi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 205
Be you not troubled with the time, which driues 90
(yre your content, thefe ftrong neceflides,
But let determin'd things to deflinie
Hold vnbewaylM their way. Welcome to Rome,
Nothing more deere to me : You are abusM
Beyond the marke of thought : and the high Gods 95
To do you luftice, makes his Minifters
Of vs, and thofe that loue you. Beft of comfort, 97
91. content^ ^^/^l t*f*^f*>^ ^^^^ Pope. Dyce i, Wh. Hal. maki them dp. et mceJfUUs^ necessitus ; Theob. cet
Waib. et seq. 97. Befi] Be Rowe,+, Cap. Varr.
95. Gods] GodYHXj, Ran.
96. makes kis] KUy. make kis Ff, ^-o^^/W,] Ff, Rowe,+, Rife, com- Rowe, Pope, CoU. i. make (heir Theob. fart; Cap. et cet
Han. Waib. Johns. Varr. Ran. Knt, Sing.
passive sense ; compare ' ignorant present' — Macb, I, ▼, 58, and < ignorant conceal- ment,* Wint, TeUe, I, ii, 397.
92, 93. determin'd things to destinie Hold, etc.] Deighton : Let things that are fitted go on their way to destiny without your mourning them. It is possible, how- ever, that the construction may be ' things determined to destiny,' t. e., on which destiny has resoWed. — [The latter construction is, I think, to be preferred. — Ed.]
95, 96. the high Gods . . . makes his Ministers] Theobald : Why must Shakespeare be guilty of such an obvious false concord ? He has not writ thus in a parallel passage, — ' Macbeth Is ripe for shaking, and the Pow'rs above Put on their Instruments.' — IV, iii, 237. — Knight : Here is a false concord ; and to correct it we ought to read make their. But the modem editors read make them^ which is a devi- ation from the principle upon which a correction can be authorised. — [Which I do not quite understand. Is the ' principle ' well founded which holds make their a legiti- mate correction, and make them an illegitimate? — Ed.] — Collier (ed. i) : 'His' refers to ' justice' and not to the ' gods.' The sense, therefore, is, that the gods, in order to right Octavia, make ministers of justice of Caesar and of those that love Octavia. — Singer : It is impossible to conceive with [Collier] that the reference is to justice, which is not here personified, and, had it been, his would have been inapplicable. — Collier (ed. ii) : We were disposed formerly to retain his upon the mpposition that it might agree with justice. We now think that Singer is warranted in the blame be imputes to us for so doing, and we amend the text, although not exactly in his way. It seems not impossible that originally ' gods ' was in the sing- alar, and in that case makes and his would be correct. — [Capell's emendation, them (an ethical dative), seems to me more Shakespearian than any other emendation that has been proposed. Possibly it is to this that Knight objected. — Ed.]
97. Best of comfort,] Malone : Thus the original copy. The connecting par- ticle, emdf seems to favour the old reading. According to the modem innovation, ' Be of comfort,' it stands very awkwardly. *• Best of comfort ' may mean — ' Thou best of comforters ! ' Compare The Tempest : * A solemn air, and the best comforter To an unsettled fancy's cure ! ' — V, i, 58. Caesar, however, may mean, that what he bad just mentioned is the best kind of comfort that Octavia can receive. — Stkevkns :
206 THE TRACED IE OF [act in. sc. vL
And euer welcom to vs. Agrip. Welcome Lady. 98
Mec. Welcome deere Madam,
Each heart in Rome does loue and pitty you, 100
Onely th'adulterous Anthony^ mod large
In his abhominations, tumes you ofl^
And giues his potent Regiment to a Trull
That noyfes it againfl vs.
0£la. Is it fo fir f 105
C(Bf* Moft certaine : Sifter welcome : pray you
loi. M'] Ff, Rowe,+, Wh. Dycc ii, Theob. Han. Warb. noifes FjF^ et cet iii. the Cap. et cet. 106. Mo/(\ It is most Pope, + .
102. abhomiruUi<ms'\ F^F^. abomi- pray you] Pray you, new Cap.
nations F^. Words.
104. Hcy/es'] F,. noses Rowe, Pope,
This elliptical phrase, I believe, only signifies — ' May the best of comfort be 3roiir5 ! ' — Deighton : These words seem to me to go rather with the following words and to mean, * My best comforter, * * my greatest comfort.' — [If the punctaation of the Folio had only been followed, and the conmia retained after ' comfort,' I think there would have been scarcely any interpretation of the phrase other than Deighton* s. Malone had an inkling of this when he said that < *' and ** stands very awkwardly,' and gave * Thou best of comforters ' as a paraphrase. The fatal twist was given by Capell's unfortunate semi-colon, which has been followed by every editor except Rolfe, who, however, adopts Steevens's signification, made under the malign influ- ence of the semi-colon. — Ed.]
102. abhominations] Ellis (p. 220) : This was a common orthography in the XVI th century, and the A seems to have been occasionally pronounced or not pro- nounced. There was no A in the Latin, although in the Latin of that time k was used, as we see from the Prompt orium^ 1450, ' Abhominable^ abhominabilis, abAcmi- naeyoHf abhominado ' and Levins, 1570, * abAominate, abhominari,' as if the words referred to ab-homine instead of ab-omine, — [See Lov^s Lab. Lost, V, i, 26, of this edition, where this note is also given.]
103. potent Regiment to a Trull] Johnson : * Regiment,' is government, att- thority ; he puts his power and his empire into the hands of a false woman. It may be observed, that < trull ' was not, in our author's time, a term of mere infamy, but a word of slight contempt, as wench is now. — Malone : * Trull ' is used in / Henry
VI: II, ii, 28 as synonymous to harlot. There can therefore be no doubt of the sense in which it is used here.
104. That noyses it] Steevens : Milton has adopted this uncommon verb in his Paradise Regained; 'though noising loud And threat' ning nigh,' iv, 488. — [It is not the verb itself which is so ' uncommon ' (it occurs elsewhere in Shakespeare, and several times in the New Testament"), but it is its present sense which is so unusual, conve3ring, as it does, the idea of loud-voiced and turbulent opposition. I think that Steevens might have cast, not unprofitably, a side-glance on the verb, more than 'uncommon,' which Rowe, Pope, Theobald, Hanmer, and Warburton accepted as the true one in this passage (see Text, Notes), imparting, as it does, a novel mnd coquettish charm to the infinite variety already ascribed to Qeopatra. — EIo.]
iCT m, 9C. Ti.] ASTHOXY AXD CLEOPA TRA 307
Be ener kiMiwiie to patience. My dccr^ft Sifter. ExnaU 107
\Scene VII\
Oio. I will be eocn with tbce, doubt it not. Emo. But why, why, why ?
Qeo. Tboo haft ibrefpoke my being in thefe wanes. And (a/ft it it not fit. Em0. Well : is ityis iL Cleo. If not, denounc'd againft vs, why (hould not
107. dtef'jr\¥^ /n«r>r FjF^Rowc, ttgetJk^r^ ... iemr ... kane. Han. Qa^ et •^t Sing. DfOCy Sa. do. Cam. dewrat
ViL '73 ct ccf. T. If m^ ... rr,] Ft /it mti Jt-
Scene VL Rove, -r. Scsene VIL Cap. nemmcd rngmmst us f Rowe, + , Cap.
ttieq. Act IIL Sc L Kemble. ('gaiMst). Varr. Ran. Hodi. Joker,
Actimn. Rowe. Near the Promoo- Rife. /// uct/ Demmmce mffouui ms^
teyofActmnLTheob. Antooj's Camp. Tynrfaitt, Steer. Var.'oj, '13. J^ mat^
Ci{^ dmcmiue V agamst kj, Mai. Wh. i, S
5. «f if] F^ conj. If tkefrt demaaaued a^atmst ms
6. uiL]ititr¥t Words. If net dautmcd mgmmsi ms^ 7-II. If mai..Jds Jfftrfe] Piose, Ff, Var.'ii et ceL (subs.)
Rove,+. Lines end, we ... repfy ; ..,
I0$-I07. Is It so . . . deer'st Sister] Walker ( Crit. iii, 303) : Arrange, per* ^s« — ^ Is it so, sir? Most certain. Sister, welcome ! | Pray joo, be ever known to pitience : — | My dearest sister ! ' — [For another scansion of these lines (solely for ^ eye), see Abbott, § 510.]
4. forespoke] Johhson : To forspeak is to cotUradict, to speaJk offotMs/, as /or^ M/ is to order negatirely. — Bbadixt {M E. D. s. v. For^)eak, f 3) : To speak agnnst, speak eiril of. [The present line quoted.]
7. If not, denounc'd against vs] Tyrwhitt's emendation, adopted by Steerens,
win be foond in the Text. Azotes. M alone, in 1790, read, * If not, denounce V against
itt»' but remarked, • I am not, however, sure that the old reading is not right, *• If
tbere be no particular denunciation against me, why should we not," etc. There is,
nowcrer, in the Folio, a comma after the word ** not " and no point of interrogation
^ Ae end of the sentence ; which favours the emendation now made.' In the Vari-
^>mn of 1821, Malone restored the text of the Folio, omitting the comma after * not,'
•dding an interrogation at the end, and giving the foregoing paraphrase. The
^*fher commentators and their modem followers accept * denounce * in the sense of
*piiblidy arraign,* or 'censure.* Monck Mason, alone among them, seems to have
Caught what is apparently its true meaning, namely, * proclaim,* and referred it not to
^eopatra but to the wars. • Geopatra means to say,* he remarks, * " Is not the war
^wounced against us? Why should we not then attend in person?** * Druus
•p«a as far as referring * denounce * to the war, but gives a different paraphrase :
*If it b not 6t, yet inasmuch as the war has been proclaimed against me, why should
I not be there in person ? * Naturally Schmidt (Lex.) adopts the view of Delius ; so
2o8 THE TRACED IE OF [act hi, sc. viL
we be there in perfon. 8
Enob. Well, I could reply : if wee (hould feme with
Horfe and Mares together, the Horfe were meerly loft : lo
the Mares would beare a Soldiour and his Horfe. Cleo. What is't you fay f Enob. Your prefence needs muft puzle Anthony^
Take from his heart, take from his Braine, from's time,
What (hould not then be fp ar'd. He is already 1 5
TraducM for Leuity, and 'tis (aid in Rome,
That Photinus an Eunuch, and your Maides 17
8. per/on.'^ F„ Mai. per/on f Yf^ et Varr. Knt, Ktly.
cet. 15. then\ thence Walker, Huds.
9. Enob.] Eno. \Aside,'\ Johns, etseq. 17. Photinus an Eunuchy'\ ¥(, Rowe. (subs. ) PhoHnus, an eunuch, Del. Cam. Fho-
10. lofi] hist Rowe. tinus a eunuch. Sing. Photinus am 13- prefence^ pre/ent F,. eunuch Dyce, SU. Glo. Photinus a 14. from' si take from's F^F^, Rowe. eunuch Ktly. Pothinus, am eunuch,
from his Cap. Varr. Mai. Ran. Steev. Blumhof.
also does Thiselton, who says that * if not ' is equivalent to ' otherwise.' SiNGKR paraphrases : < If we are not interdicted by proclamation, why should we not be theie in person ? ' ; and adds, < To denounce is most frequently used for to pronounce or proclaim by the poet.' Hudson observes that the text which he adopts (Capell's) is ' approved by the corresponding passage in Plutarch : *< Now, after that Caesar had made sufficient preparation, he proclaimed open war against Qeopatra," etc' (See Appendix, ) Deighton thus amends the text : *• If now denounced against us,* etc and has the following note, ' if these wars are now declared against me, why, etc. With the Folio reading, the only sense possible would be, <* if there is no special injunction* against my taking part in these wars," etc.; but, as Antony alone could object, and he shows no inclination to do so, such sense seems very unsatisfactory.' [It seems to me safest to follow the Folio and to accept Delius's interpretation. —Ed.]
10. meerly] Used in its derivative sense, wholly, utterly, purely.
15. What should not then] Very plausible is Walker's conjecture {Crit. iii, 303) of thence for * then.* But * then * so clearly refers to * time,' the last idea, that change seems uncalled for. — Ed.
17. Photinus an Eunuch] The name of this eunuch in the original Greek is * Pothinus,' both here and in the LifeofCasar. In the latter. North has correctly repro- duced it ; but here, in the Life of Antonius^ it is rendered Photinus, The error b^an, I think, with Amyot ; in an edition of his translation, printed in Paris as late as i8ii, the name is Photinus, Of course, Shakespeare followed North, and what the true name might be, he cared, probably, very little, and we, assuredly, care still less. Whatever his name, Photinus or Pothinus, he ought to be dead ; Julius Caesar put him to death some years before the present events. Walker ( Vers. 173) calls attention to the fact that in Beaumont and Fletcher's False One * the name is everywhere pronounced as it is now,' that is, Photfiias» with the accent on the penult The position of the
ACT III. sc. vii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 209
Mannage this warre. 18
Cleo. Sinke Rome, and their tong ues rot That fpeake againft vs. A Charge we beare iWWarre, 20
And as the prefident of my Kingdome will Appeare there for a man. Speake not againft it, I will not ftay behinde.
Enter Anthony and Camidias.
Eno. Nay I haue done, here comes the Emperor. 25
Ant. Is it not ftrange Camidius , That from Tarrentum, and Brandufium, He could fo quickly cut the Ionian Sea, And take in Troine. You haue heard on't (Sweet? )
Cleo. Celerity is neuer more admired, 30
Then by the negligent.
Ant. A good rebuke, 32
19. their\ there Warb. 26. Isit'\I^t Han. Cap. Steev. Varr.
21. wi7/] wUl I Pope, Thcob. Han. Coll. Sing. Wh. Hal. Ktly.
^arb. Ktly. 26, 34, loo. Camidius] Ff. Canidius
24. Enter...] After line 25, Cap. Var. Rowe.
•78 et seq. 27. Tarrentufn\ Tarentum Rowe.
Camidias] Camidius Ff. Can- Brandufium] Brundusium Ff.
^ius Rowe. 28. the] th' Rowe ii, + , Dyce ii, iii.
25. here .,. Emperor] Separate line, 29. Troine.] Toryne,¥^^, Torynef Han. Cap. Var. *2i, Knt, Coll. Dyce. F^.
comma after * eunuch * has been deemed important ; on it the number of persons referred to may be made to depend. Wordsworth remarks, 'Dyce and other editors, including even those of the Globe, and Hudson, all following the careless- ness of the First Folio, point this without a comma after Fhotinus, and so leave the reader to suppose that he is the eunuch ; whereas there can be no doubt that Mardian is intended, as appears plain both in Plutarch's Greek and in North's trans- lation. The Leopold edition prints the line correctly.* The Leopold edition followed Delias. In any circumstances, I think it is a question of small moment, and becomes even less when we remember (which apparently Dr Wordsworth did not), that Photinus u well as Mardian was a eunuch. — Ed.
23. I wiU not stay behinde] Garnier, whose M, Antoine was printed in 1578, represents jealousy as the cause of Cleopatra's decision to *be in these warres.' Qeopatra thus speaks to Eras : < Mais, las ! ie n'en fis conte, ayant I'ame saisie, A mon tres-grand malheur d'ardente ialousie : Par-ce que ie craignois que mon Antoine absent Reprint son Octauie, & m'allast delaissant' — p. 179, ed. 1616. It is thus translated by the Countess of Pembroke, 1592 : * But I car'd not : so was my soule possest (To my great harme), with burning iealousie: Fearing least m my absence Antony Should leaning me retake Octauia.^ — line 463, ed. Lace.
29. Uke in Troine] That is, subdue. See I, i, 35.
2IO THE TRACE DIE OF [act iii. sc. vii.
Which might haue well becom'd the bed of men 33
To taunt at flackneflfe. CamidiuSj wee
Will fight with him by Sea. 35
Cleo. By Sea, what elfe ?
Cam. Why will my Lord, do fo ?
Ant. For that he dares vs too*t.
Enob. So hath my Lord, dar'd him to fingle fight
Cam. I, and to wage this Battell at Pharfalia, 40
Where Cafar fought with Pompey. But thefe offers Which feme not for his vantage, he (hakes off, And fo fhould you.
Enob. Your Shippes are not well mann'd. Your Marriners are Militers, Reapers, people 45
33. beconCd^ beamu Theob. ii, Warb. 38. tot^f^ t<ft Ff, Om. Han, Johns. Cap. Coll. Wh. Ktly. 40. Mm] his F^F^, Rowe.
34. at Jlackfujjl'e\ a slackness Yj2m^\\, 42. ferue]/erves F^F^.
ai slacknesses Bulloch. 45. are Militers'] are Muliters Ff,
Camidios] Come^ Canidins Han. Rowe, Knt, Coll. Wh. Hal. are muH-
My Canidius Cap. teers Pope, Theob, Warb. muleteers
36. Sea^ Ff, Rowe,+. sea; Cam. and Han. are muleteers Johns. Ktly. sea / Cap. et cet are muUters Dyce, Sta. Glo. CauL
33» 34* Which might . . . slacknesse] These words, which express Anthonjr's hearty assent to Qeopatra's rebuke by asserting that the best of men might have used them in upbraiding sloth, Blumhof takes as a peevish rejoinder to Cleopatra's iiri- tating remark, and regards as a separate sentence and as an exclamation of surprise, < To taunt at slackness ! ' ' Slackness ' is lengthened into three syllables by both Walker ( Vers. 20) and Abbott (§ 477) : • slack^iess.' But would not the pro- nunciation be almost as rhythmical, and quite as slovenly, were it uttered ' xHack- ness? The pause necessitated by the change of address supplies the rhythm. Walker finishes the line and begins the next thus * Canidius, come We'll fight,' etc See Text. Notes for Hanmer's emendation. — Ed.
37. Why will] The accent is designedly thrown on * will.*
45. Militers] Sec Text. Notes.— VIalkek ( Vers. 217) : Pioneer, Engineer, Muleteer^ and many other (perhaps most) words of the same class, ought to be writ- ten pioner, enginer, etc. This is evident, were there no other indication of it, from the flow of the verses in which these words occur. [To the instance in the present line, which Dyce was the first to spell correctly, Walker adds, * Seignior, hang !— base muleteers of France.' — i Hen. VI: III, ii, and continues :] Even here an Elizabethan ear would, I imagine, have demanded muleters ; and so Folio. So everywhere in the writers of that age, as far as I have observed. Beaumont & Fletcher, Fair Maid of the Inn, II, iv, Folio of 1647, p. 36, col. 2, — ' Thou might'st have given it to a Muliter,' etc. IV, ii, init * Enter Host, Taylor, Muliter,' etc. Loves Pilgrimage, II, iv, near the beginning, — * No mangey Muleters, nor pinching Posts.' — [Dyce has a note to the same effect. Both Walker and Dyce seem to have overlooked a note of Malone, which calls attention to the spelling of this word in the corresponding
ACTIU, s&YiL] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 211
Ingroft by fwift Imprefle. In Ca/ars Fleete^ 46
Are thofe ^ that often haue 'gainft Pompey fought.
Their (hippes are yare, yours heauy : no difgrace
Shall fall you for refufmg him at Sea,
Being prepared for Land. 50
AnU By Sea, by Sea.
Eno. Mod worthy Sir, you therein throw away The abfolute Soldierihip you haue by Land, Diftraft your Armie, which doth mod confift Of Warre-markt-footmen, leaue vnexecuted 55
Your owne renowned knowledge, quite forgoe The way which promifes aflTurance, and Giue vp your felfe meerly to chance and hazard, From firme Securitie.
Ant. He fight at Sea. 60
Cleo. I haue fixty Sailes, Cafar none better.
47. *gainfi\ against Warb. 61. fixty SaUes\ fidl sixty sail Sey- 49. Shall '\ Can Cap. moor. fuU sixty sails Huds.
/all'\ */all Han. Cap. (Errata.) nom better.l none better hath,
55. IVarre-markt-faotmen^T ff'Ro^t'i, Ktly. war-mark^ d footmen Rowe ii et seq.
passage in North's Piutarch : 'for lacke of water-menne, his Captaines did prest by force all sortes of men . . . that they could take vp in the field, as trauellers, muliters, reapers, hamest men, and young boyes.* In the ed. of 1595, the word is spelled * muletteis.' — Ed.]
46. Impresse] See 'prest' in the extract from North in the preceding note. — Skeat {Concise EtymoL Diet.) : * Press ' is a corruption of the old word /r«/, ready ; whexict prest-mcney^ ready money advanced to a man hired for service, earnest money ; also imprest f a verb (now impress) , to give a man earnest money. When it became oomimon to use compulsion to force men into service, it was confused with the verb to press. Prest money was money lent, derived from Old French prester (French ^^rtter) to lend, advance money.
48. yarc] Steevens : So in North's Plutarch : * Caesar's ships were not built for pomp, high and great, . . . but they were light of yarage.' ' Yare' generally sig- nifies, dextrous, manageable,
49. Shall fall you] That is, befall you. For other words where prefixes are dropped, see Abbott, § 460.
54. Distradt your Armie] In North's Plutarch, Canidius tells Antony, among other things, that he * would weaken his army by dividing them into ships.* Possi- \>ly this explains the present phrase.
61. I haue] Hanmer reads, * Why, I have,' — ' a very probable emendation,' sajrs Dtce (ed. ii). It is one of several designed to mend the metre, which is defective according to the right butter- woman's rank to market. Any deviation from the orthodox jog-trot deeply offends the truly sensitive ear. Nay, in cases where a final
i
212 THE TRACE DIE OF [ACT ill. SC. vii.
AnL Our ouer-plus of (hipping will we bume^ 62
And with the reft full mann'd, from th'head of Aftion Beate th'approaching Cae/ar. But if we 6ule, We then can doo't at Land. Enter a Mejfenger. 65
Thy Bufmeffe ?
Mef. The Newes is true, my Lord, he is defcried, Cafar ha's taken Toryne.
Ant^ Can he be there in perfon? Tis impoifible Strange, that his power fhould be. Camidius^ 70
Our nineteene Legions thou (halt hold by Land, And our twelue thoufand Horfe. Wee'l to our Ship, Away my Thetis.
Enter a Soldiaur. How now worthy Souldier? 75
Soul. Oh Noble Emperor, do not fight by Sea, Truft not to rotten plankes : Do you mifdoubt This Sword, and thefe my Wounds ; let th'Egyptians And the Phoenicians go a ducking : wee
Haue vsM to conquer ftanding on the earth, 80
And fighting foot to foot.
Ant. Well, well, away. exit Ant. Cleo.& Enob . 82
62. Our\ Come : Our Cap. ( Come : Theob. Warb. Johns,
closes line 61.) 71. nineteene'] nineteenes F,.
6^, fullmann'd'lfuIl-fnanh'dKG^t. 74. Soldioor.] Messenger. Rowe L
M'] the Cap. et seq. Diomede. Gar. Titius and Soldiers.
head of Aiflion] heart of Actium Kemble.
Ff, Rowe. head of Actium Fope ei seq. 78. fVounds;"] wounds? Rowe u et
64. M*] the Theob. et seq. seq.
But] Om. Han. M'] the Theob. et seq.
65. doo't] ddt FjF^. 79- ^ ducking] aducking Dyce, Sta. 67. def cried,] descried; Theob. et seq. Glo. Cam.
69, 70. impojfible Strange, ] impossible. 82. well^ well. — Coll. well: — Dyce, Strange Pope et seq. Glo. Cam.
70. be.] befo, Ff. be so. Rowe, Pope, exit] Exeunt. Ff.
-er must represent a full foot (as here), Abbott (§ 478) opines that it may <liaTe been sometimes pronounced with a kind of <*burr/' which produced the effect of an additional syllable.' Inasmuch as Cleopatra's variety was infinite, it is possible that a ' burr ' may have been one of her charms.
73. my Thetis] Steevens : Antony may address Qeopatra by the name of this sea-nymph, because she had just promised him assistance in his naval expedition ; or perhaps in allusion to her voyage down the Cydnus, when she appeared like Thetis surrounded by the Nereids. [It was not Thetis, but Venus, to whom Enobaibus then compared Cleopatra. — See II, ii, 235.]
76, etc. See Plutarch, Appendix,
ACT III. sc. vii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 213
Soul. By Hercules I thinke I am i'th'righL 83
Cam. Souldier thou art : but his whole aflion growes Not in the power on't : fo our Leaders leade, 85
And we are Womens men.
Saul. You keepe by Land the Legions and the Horfe whole^ do you not ?
Ven. Marcus OilauiuSy Marcus luJleuSy Publicolay and Celius, are for Sea : 90
But we keepe whole by Land. This fpeede of Ca/ars Carries beyond beleefe. 92
83. right'\ light Y^, 87. Kw...Z<iik/] Separate line, Rowe
84. his] the Ff, Rowe. this Cap. et seq.
85. fo] sOy or sOy — Nicholson ap. Cam. 89. Yen.] Ff, Rowe. Can. Pope et seq. Leaders le€uie'\ F,. Leaders lead lulleus] Juflius Ff, Rowe, Pope.
FjF^, Rowe, Pope, leader' i led Theob. Justeius Theob.
et seq. 90. Celius] Qelius Theob.
84, 85. his whole action growes Not in the power on't] Caprll (i, 39) : ' Action ' is here enterpriuy the enterprixe then in hand ; no part of which, says Canidios, * grows in the power on't,' is conducted as it might be, or suitably to the means that we have in our power. — [Capell refers * on't ' to * action.' Dr Johnson, on the other hand, refers it to * right ' in the Soldier's speech. < That is,' he says, 'his whole conduct becomes ungovemed by the right, or by reason.' Malone gives what is essentially Capell's interpretation and points out Johnson's oversight < I think,' he observes, < that Canidius means to say, His whole conduct in the war is not founded upon that which is his greatest strength (namely, his landforce\ but on the caprice of a woman, who wishes that he should fight by sea. Dr Johnson refers the word onU to right in the preceding speech. I apprehend, it refers to actum in the speech before us.' Hudson says that * This speech may refer, not merely to the present action, but Antony's whole course of late, where his action grows, takes its shape, not from the power that executes it, that is, himself, but from the will of another.' The phrase is certainly obscure. Possibly, it may mean that Anthony's course of action docs not grow through its own native force, there are other influences at work — his deeds are not self-evolved. — Ed.]
85. so our Leaders leade] Theobald's change, 'our leader's led,' which has been adopted by every subsequent editor, is pronounced needless by Thiselton (p. 19), and, I cannot but think, justly. If Cleopatra is herself a Leader, her power is more direct, and the soldiers are more emphatically her men, than if this power were exercised only indirectly through Anthony. Moreover, by the plural, * women,' there is an implication that even Anthony himself has lost his manliness and is become a woman, which is missed if * Leader * be restricted to Anthony alone. — Ed.
89. Ven.] Collier (ed. ii) conjectured that this abbreviation stood ' perhaps for Vennard^ an actor in the part of Canidius.' Dyce repeated this conjecture without comment. — Walker (Crit. ii, 185) says that the speech 'is given to Ventidius mstead of to Canidius.'
91, 92. This speede . . . Carries beyond beleefe] An uncommon use of the verb.
214 ^^^ TRAGEDIE OF [act iu, sc viL
Soul. While he was yet in Rome. 93
His power went out in fuch diftra£)ions, As beguilde all Spies. oj
Cam. Who's his Lieutenant, heare you ?
Soul. They fay, one Toivrus.
Cam. Well, I know the man.
Enter a Mejfenger.
Me/. The Emperor cals Camidius. lOO
Cam. With Newes the times with Labour, And throwes forth each miiiute, fome. exeunt 102
93. kt ttw] Om. Han. loi. vnth] mRowe, + , Var. '73, Cap.
95. beguilde all Sfdes\ Separate line, (in Notes)^ Gar.
Ptopc et seq. (except Knt.) WUk ... times\ Separate line,
96. Lieutenant^ Lieutenat F^. Ktly.
97. Townis] Torus Rowe, Pope. 102. threwes] F,Fj. throes Theofa^ Taurus Theob. Var. '73, Steer. Knt, Sing. Dyce, Sta.
98. HTeU.I Ff, Rowe i, Knt. WeU; Glo. Cam. throws F^ et cet.
Johns. WeU Rowe ii et cet each^./ome"] Separate line, Rowe
100. caU] calls for Han. et seq.
loi. times'] tim^s Ff.
carry ^ of which I can find no notice in the N. E, D. Steevens suggested that < per- haps' it is derived *from archery,' and quoted 2 Hen, IV: HI, ii, 52, *a* would have . . . carried you a forehand shaft a fourteen and fourteen and a half.' Singei. without even hinting at the singularity of the phrase, gives a paraphrase, obvious to the humblest capacity, < t. e, passes all belief and then remarks, < I should not have noticed this, but for Steevens's odd notion of its being a phrase from archery.' Schmidt {^Lex. s.v. Carry, 4) quotes the present passage and Justice ShaUow's speech quoted above by Steevens, and defines both by ' to bear, to push on to a cer- tain distance,' which is somewhat difficult of comprehension. It is not easy to see how anything that carries can thereby * push.' Deighton and Rolfe, braving Singer's scoff, return to Steevens's suggestion and hold that the metaphor is probably taken from archery, which is also the opinion of the present Ed.
94. distra^ons] Johnson : Detachments, separate bodies.
102. throwes forth] According to Theobald's spelling, this veib occurs again in The Tempest^ II, i, 231.
ACT III, sc. viii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
215
\Scene yill]
Enter Cafar wiih his Army^ marching.
Caf. ToTJurus?
Tow. My Lord.
Caf. Strike not by Land, Keepe whole, prouoke not Battaile Till we haue done at Sea. Do not excecde The Prefcript of this Scroule 2 Our fortune lyes Vpon this iumpe.
extt.
8
[Scene IX.]
Enter Anthony ^and Enobarbus. Ant. Set we our Squadrons on yond fide o'th'Hill, In eye of CcBfars battaile, from which place
Scene VIII. dp. et seq. The same. Plain between both Camps. Cap.
1. Enter...] Enter Oesar, Taurus, Officers, and others. Cap.
2. Towrus?] Ff. Torus? Rowe. Taurus? Theob. Taurus^ — Cap. Steey. Van*. Sing. Dyce.
3. Lord.'\ lord? Dyce, Glo. Cam. 4--S. Strike. ».iumpe\ Lines end, ze/^o/f,
• . . Sea. . . . Scroule : ... iumpe. Steer. Varr.
Knt, Coll. Sta. Ktly.
7. this Scroule"] this scroll [Giving it CoU. '53.
Scene IX. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. Huds. Rife, Dtn, Words. The rest continue the Scene.
Another part of the plain. Dyce.
2. Squadrons'] squdrons Rowe i. yond] Ff, Rowe, + , Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. yon^ Cap. Varr. Mai. Ran. Steev. yon Knt. yond"^ Coll. Wh. i.
I. Bradley (p. 71) : To come then to real defects : — one may be found in places where Shakespeare strings together a number of scenes, some very short, in which the dramatis persona are frequently changed ; as though a novelist were to tell his story in a succession of short chapters, in which he flitted from one group of his characters to another. This method shows itself here and there in the pure tragedies {^e.g. in the last act of Macbeth)^ but it appears most decidedly where the historical material was undramatic, as in the middle part of Antony and Cleopatra. It was made possible by the absence of scenery, and doubtless Shakespeare used it because it was the easiest way out of a difficulty. But, considered abstractedly, it is a defec- tive method, and, even as used by Shakespeare, it sometimes reminds us of the merely narrative arrangement common in plays before his time.
8, iumpe] Murray (A^. E. D. s. v. f 6) : The decisive moment of plunging into action of doubtful issue ; dangerous critical moment, critical point, crisis. (Latin, discrimen, ) The notion is evidently that of making a jump or taking a plunge into the unknown or untried.
3. bftttaile] Murray (iV. E. D. s. v.S): A body or line of troops in battle array, whether composing an entire army, or one of its main divisions. ' What may the whole Battaile reach vnto?'— / Ifen. IV: IV, i, 129.
2l6 THE TR AGED IE OF [act m. sc, x.
We may the number of the Ships behold,
And fo proceed accordingly. exit. 5
\Scene X\
Camidius Marcheth with his Land Army one way auer the JlagCj and Towrus the Lieutenant ofCcefar the other way : After their going in^ is heard the noife of a Sea fight. Alarum. Enter Enobarbus and Scarus.
Eno. Naught, naught, al naught, I can behold no longer: 5
Thantoniadj the Egyptian Admirall, With all their fixty flye, and tume the Rudder : To fee't, mine eyes are blafted. 8
Scene X. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. Scene 4. and Scams] Om. Rowe ii el seq.
VII. Pope,-!-. Cap. ct cet. continue the 5. a/] F,.
Scene. naughi^'\ Ff, Rowe,+. namgkt.
I. CamidiuSy etc.] Cantdius^ etc. Johns, n/zif^i^ / Cap. et seq.
Rowe. 6. Thantoniad] Ff, Rowe. Tk^An-
Marcheth] Marching Ff, Rowe et tonias Pope, + . The Antmiad Cap. et
seq. seq.
Land Army] land-anny Thcob. 7. flye^and tume\ flies and tum$l\9xu
3. the noise of a Sea fight] Our ignorance of the kind of noise which accom- panied sea-fights, and enabled an audience to distinguish it, when heard behind the scene, from that of a land-Bght, is to be regretted. It may be that there were Todferoos commands to the rowers and the sound of crashing boards ; but see IV, xii, I. — Ed.
6. Thantoniad] *The Admiral galley of Cleopatra^ was called Antoniade.' — North's Plutarch (see Appendix), ['Thantoniad' betrays the ear of the com- positor.—Ed.]
7. flye, and tume the Rudder] Staffer (p. 405) : What had happened was very simple ; it was only that Cleopatra had felt frightened : she was not a woman of heroic type, and her nerves were not strong enough to bear the excitement of a battle for any length of time, — that was the whole secret. Those who seek for any other explanation of the defeat at Actium, do so because they start with the notion that on great occasions Cleopatra could be truly brave, the splendid manner of her death having acquired for her a false reputation for courage ; but her supposed hero- ism is only a brilliant theatrical cloak wrapped round the most feminine little person, presenting the most complete contrast to all manliness of character that ever wore a crown. We have only to study closely her ending, as it is given by Shakespeare, and the mask falls — the woman remains and the heroine vanishes. — Anatolr Francs (iv, 130) : This flight, Admiral Jurien de la Graviire holds to be a skilful! manceuvre and M. Victorien Sardou has given to it a highly dramatic effect by representing the enamoured queen as effecting thereby the defeat and disgrace of her lover, in order to keep him completely her own.
ACT III, sc. X.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA
217
Enter Scarrus.
Scar.Gods,\&i Goddeffes, all the whol fynod of them!
Eno. What's thy paflion.
Scar. The greater Cantle of the world, is loft With very ignorance, we haue kift away Kingdomes, and Prouinces.
Eno. How appeares the Fight ?
Scar, On our fide, like the Token'd Peftilence, Where death is fure. Yon ribaudred Nagge of Egypt,
10
IS
17
9. Scamis] Scams Ff. Dionude Gar. Scaurus Walker.
10. Gods, &• Goddeffes'] Separate line, Theob. Warb. et seq.
11. pajion,] pajfton ? F^F^. 16-29. Mnemonic, Warb.
17. Yon. ..Nagge] Dyce, Wh. i, Sta. GIo. Cam. Hal. Ktly, Del. iii, Hunter, Marshall, Rife, Dtn (subs. ) You ribau- dred Nagge F,. Your ribaudred Nagge
F . Your ribauldred Nag F^. Your rtbauld nag Rowe, Pope, Theob. Warb. Yond ribauid nag Han. Johns. Var. '73 (subs.) Yon ribald nag Qk^, Var. '78, '85, Ran. Kemble, Huds. (subs.) Yon^ ribald-rid nag Steev. conj. Mai. Steev. Varr. Knt, Coll. i, Del. i (subs.) Yond^ ribald hag Tyrwhitt, Coll. ii, iii. Words. Yon ribaldred nag Wh. ii. Yon ribald rag Anon. ap. Cam.
12. Cantle] Murray (N. E. D. s.v. Mediaeval Latin, r/2if/^//«j, diminutive of cant, canto, cantus, comer. 3 f c.) : A segment of a circle or sphere. [Present line quoted.]
16. the Token'd Pestilence] Steevens: The death of those visited by the plague was certain, when particular eruptions appeared on the skin ; and these were adled God's tokens.— Hmjlvn^ia. (Love's Lab. Lost, V, ii, 470): *The spots [indicative of the plague], otherwise called God^s tokens, are commonly of the big- aesse of a flea-bitten spot, sometimes much bigger. . . . But they have ever a circle iboat them, the red ones a purplish circle, and the others a redish circle.' — Brad- irell's Physick for . . . the Plague, 1 636. — Elton (p. 468, footnote) : Allusions to lie * tokens ' of pestilence in Shakespeare are not uncommon after the great outbreak a plague in the winter of 1602, which, between Christmas and Christmas, killed in London and its liberties more than 30,000 people. The tokens were redder than ;n former pestilences ; hard spots of a bright flaming red were accounted a fatal tjmpCom.
17. Yon ribaudred Nagge] Capell (i, 39) : Meaning, indeed, — ^brazen hack- ley : and calling her so in his anger, by reason of her forwardness and her prosti- Utions : and from hence, the propriety of the imprecation he immediately makes on jer, — * Whom leprosy o'er-take ! ' — Steevens : * Ribaudred ' is, I believe, no more ihan a corruption. Shakespeare, who is not always very nice about his versification, night have written, * Yon ribald-rid nag,' 1. e. Yon strumpet, who is common to sveiy wanton fellow. — Malone : I have adopted the happy emendation proposed by )Lx Steevens. Ribaud was only the old spelling of ribald : and the misprint of
' red ' for rid is easily accounted for. By ribald, Scarus, I think, means the lewd ^tony in particular, not ' every lewd fellow,* as Mr Steevens has explained it. — Fyrwhitt (p. 9) : I believe we should read, 'yon ribauid Hag.^ What follows ieems to prove it : — < The noble ruin of her magick, Antony,^ etc. — [This emendation
21 8 THE TRACED IE OF [act in. sc. x.
[17. Yon ribaudred Nagge of Egypt] is repeated in Collier's ed. ii, not, however, as Tyrwhitt's, but as that kA Collier's corrected Folio, which, as Collier observes, has * ribaudred ' altered to ribald^ and < nag ' to hag. Ribald^ he continues, * requires no explanation, whereas no instance of the use elsewhere either of "ribaudred" or "ribauldred" can be produced. There are, no doubt, such words as ribaldry and ribaldrotis^ but the employment of them by old authors proves nothing, since they are not the word wanted. '< Nag" for hag was clearly a misprint, and it will be observed that, even amending the word *< ribaudred" to ribaldridy as was done by Steevens, gives the line a syllable too much.' Tyrwhitt's change of *■ nag ' into hag was followed a second time, this time by SiNGBR, who exclaims that < the poet would surely not have called Qeopatia a nag ! * Any change in • ribaudred,* Singer deems quite unnecessary. * " Ribaudred " is,' he sa3rs, * obscene^ indecent in words or acts. Thus Barett [Ahearie^ 15S0] : — *< a Ribaudrous and filthie tongue. Os incesium^ obscanum, impurum^ &* impudicum. Vide Filihie." — [where we find] " Villanie in actes,or words ; ribauldrie, filthinesse, vncleannesse. Obscanitas^*' etc' To Singer's exclamation that < the poet' would not have called Cleopatra a nag^ Dyck replies, that * since she has been previously called *<a trull," I see no reason for wondering that she should now be called "ifflg'," i.e, jade, hackney. ("Know we not Galloway nagsf** exclaims Pistol, alluding to Doll Tearsheet. — 2 Hen. IV: II, iv.) ' Furthermore, in reference to this use of * nag,* R. G. White (ed. i) quotes Leontes, who, • in his jealous fit, exclaims, «* Then say my wife's a hobby-horse / " ']— Staunton : * Ribaudred nag' means filthy strumpet. — Keightley {Exp. 317) : There is no need of change — Hudson : 'Ribau- dred ' damages the metre ; and I cannot perceive the sense of red thus tagged on to ribaud . . . Bishop Hall has ribaldish, and so, I suspect, the Poet wrote here. [P. 90], Of course the epithet ribald \% applied to Cleopatra to express her notorious profligacy. It seems to me, also, that the Poet meant 'nag' in reference to her speedy flight from the battle, carrying Antony off, as it were, on her back. And the words, * the breese upon her,' and ' like a cow in June ' naturally infer that such was the image intended. — Thiselton (p. 19) : Read riband-red for 'ribaudred' on the following grounds, (i) No such word as 'ribaudred' is known. (2) In the preceding line ' the Fight ' is likened to * the Token'd Pestilence,* the reference being to the Plague, of which there were three varieties ; the red, the yellow, and the black. It is Qeo- patra's red ribands that suggest the figure of the red plague to Scamis. (3) Red ribands would match a dark complexion and the actor who played the part of Cleo- patra may be presumed to have worn them. (4) Geopatra will then be likened to a nag decked with red ribands as for a fair, anything but an * Anne-gaunt steede.' (5) ' Riband-red ' enhances the force and appropriateness of the imprecation in the next line, ' Whom Leprosie o'er-take,* that disease being characterised by whiteness of the skin. (6) In the Folio the u in the word usually given as ' ribaudred ' is raised above the level of the preceding and succeeding letters, and would therefore seem to be in reality an inverted n. — [Suggestions from this critic are worthy of respectful consideration. But is it any more easy to apprehend the meaning of < a riband-red nag' than it is of ' a waistcoat white gentleman * ? In Mer, of Ven, III, ii, 103, we find the phrase, ' the guiled shore ' ; in Afeas, for Meas. Ill, i, lii : *'the delighted spirit*; in Othello, I, iii, 320: 'delighted beauty' ; in / Hen. IV: I, iii, 183 : ' disdain'd contempt.* In all these cases, and many more could be added, the past participles convey the meaning that the nouns which they qualify are abun- dantly supplied with that which the participles represent Thus, ' the guiled shore *
ACT III, sc. X.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
(Whom Leprofie o're-take) i'th'midft o'th'fight, When vantage like a payre of Twinnes appeared Both as the fame, or rather ours the elder ; (The Breeze vpon her) like a Cow in Inne^ Hoifts Sailes^ and flyes.
Eno. That I beheld : Mine eyes did ficken at the fight, and could not Indure a further view.
Scar. She once being looft,
219 18
20
25
18. dre'take\ dre Ff, Rowe.
I'M'] Ff, Rowe, + . Vthe Cap. et seq.
midft'\ very midst Rowe.
<fth''\ Ff, Rowc,+. o'tke Cap. ct leq.
19. vaniage\ vantages Ktly. aa as the"] of the Ff, Rowe.
21. Breeze"] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Warb. Cap. briese Johns. Var. *73. breese Dyce, GIo. Cam. brize Han. et cet.
21. Inne"] June Ff.
22. Sailes] sail Cap. conj. flyesJ\flieStEn^barbus, Elze. flies
amain. Words.
23. 24. That ,., eyes] Separate line, Cap. Steer. Var. '73, '78.
23. beheld] beheld myself YJXj,
24. flght^ ] sight of ity Cap. sight on^t Steev. Var. '73, '78.
26. looft] loofd Mai. Steev. et seq. aloof d Coll. conj.
means the shore full of guiles ; ' the delighted spirit ' means the spirit endowed with delights; * disdain'd contempt ' means contempt/^/ of disdain.* In Bishop Cooper's Thesaurus Lingua Romamg^ I573> ^^ ^^^t among the definitions of Obsccenitas^ 'ribauldrie.' If this noun be tamed into a participle we have ribauldried^ which, I ▼entare to suggest, is the very word, phonetically spelled, in our present 'ribaudred.' (In the next scene, forty-seventh line, we have * vnqualit^</ * for <vnqnaliti>^.') Hence, ' Yon ribaudred Nagge ' means, I think, < Yon nag made up of or composed of ribaldry.*— Ed.]
x8. Leprosie] Johnson : An epidemical distemper of the Egyptians ; to which Horace probably alludes in the controverted line : * Contaminato cum grege turpium Morbo virorum.* — [Ode^ I, xxxvii, 9.]
20. Both as the same] Staunton : This is oddly expressed. Can * as * be a transcriber's slip for ag*df The context,—* or rather ours the elder,* — favours the sapposition.
21. Breeze] Murray {N, E, D, s. v. Breeze. sb^)i A gadfly : a name given to various dipterous insects, especially of the genera (Estrus (Bot-fly) and Tabanus, which annoy horses and cattle.
22. Hoists Sailes, and flyes] Staunton [A then. 26 Apr. 1873) : To say nothing of the redundant sibilants in this line, would Shakespeare have described a nag, as like a cow stung by the gad-fly, hoisting sails ? I think, to sustain the similitude and the characteristic roughness of the speaker, he is more likely to have written, — * Hoists tail and flies.' Those familiar with old typography know well how readily * sails* and taile would be confounded. If my conjecture has any weight, it shows the error committed by several modem editors in reading hag for * nag.*
26. looft] Bradley (A^. E, D. s, v. Luff. 2. trans.) : To bring the head of a
220 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act hi, sc x.
The Noble ruine of her Magicke^ Anthony ^ 27
Claps on his Sea-wing, and ( like a doting Mallard )
Leauing the Fight in heighth, flyes after her :
I neuer faw an Aftion of fuch fhame ; 30
Experience, Man-hood, Honor, ne're before, |
Did violate fo it felfe.
Yjiob. Alacke, alacke.
^nUr Camidius.
Cam. Our Fortune on the Sea is out of breath, 35
And finkes moft lamentably. Had our Generall Bin what he knew himfelfe, it had gone well : Oh his ha's giuen example for our flight, Moft g^oflely by his owne.
'^nob. I , are you thereabouts ? Why then goodnight 40
indeede.
Cam. Toward Peloponnefus are they fled. 42
28. and'\ Om. Pope, + . Dyce> Sta.
29. heighih'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Cap. 41. indeede\ Indeed (as separate line
37. Bin'\ Been F^. of verse) Han. Cap. et seq. (except Knt,
38. his ka's\ hee ha' 5 F,. he has F^F^. Dyce, Sta.) ittdeed^ Canidms EUe. 40» 41. I t ,„ indeede J\ [Aside. Cap. 42. Tbnwr^] Ff,Rowe, Pope,Theob.
Knt, Ktly. Han. Warb. Dyce, Glo. Cam. Towards
40. /, ... thereedxmts /] Separate line, Johns, et cet
▼essel nearer to the wind. [The present line quoted. The word occurs more than once in the Life of Anthony in North's Plniarch."]
28. Sea- wing] No mention of this, as a nautical term, is made in Smith's Acci- dence . . . Necessary for all Young Sea-men^ etc 1626, nor in Smyth's Sailor's Word- Book, 1867. The Century Dictionary quotes the present line, and gives the obvioiis meaning * a sail,' and adds that it is ' Rare.' It would never have occurred to me as needing comment were it not that in an extremely rare little volume, I find the fol- lowing, which I quote for what it is worth : * [Sea-wings] are two rows of long flat pieces of wood, which are suspended in the air when the vessel sails, and which are let down in concert when they are becalmed or have the wind against them. — Vide Spectacle de la NcUure, vol. 4.' — John Croft, Annotations on Plays of Shakespear^ York, 1810. This particular Spectacle de la NcUure I have never seen. — Ed.
38. Oh his ha's giuen example, etc.] Thiselton (p. 20) : 'His' is undoubt- edly the correct reading, the sense being * his general (Cleopatra) by leading him off into flight has set us the example for flight' [Does this accord with ' his owne ' in the next line?— Ed.]
40, 41. I, are jtou thereabouts ? . . . indeede] Hudson : < If that is what 70a are thinking about, then our cause is lost, or our game is up, sure enough.' Enobar- bus rightly construes what Canidius has just said as an intimation that he is meditat- ing desertion from Antony, since Antony has deserted himself.
ACT III, sc. xi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 221
Scar. *Tis eafie toot, 43
And there I will attend what further comes.
Camid. To Ccefar will I render 45
My Legions and my Horfe, fixe Kings alreadie Shew me the way of yeelding.
"Eno. He yet follow The wounded chance of Anthony ^ though my reafon Sits in the winde againft me. 50
\Scene X/.]
'Enter Anthony with Attendants. Ant. Hearke, the Land bids me tread no more vpon't, It is afham'd to beare me. Friends, come hither, I am fo lated in the world, that I
Haue loft my way for euer. I haue a ftiippe, 5
Laden with Gold, take that, diuide it : flye,
43. /tfo^] tt^t FjF^. way Ktly conj. tinued, Rowe, Theob. Warb. Johns.
44. what further coMfs] Separate line, Scene IX. Cap. et cet
Han. Var. '78 et seq. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.
further"] farther CoiX, Gip. ...in Cleopatra's Palace. D3rce.
47. [Exit Cap. I. Enter...] Enter Antony, with Eros
50. [Exeunt, severally. Theob. Exit. ... Pope.
Cap. 4. lated] 'lated Cz.^. (Errata.)
Scene XI. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. 5, 9, 25. /Aaw^] /*v^ Pope,+, Dyce Scene VIII. Pope, Han. Scene con- ii. iii.
49. The wounded chance of Anthony] Johnson : I know not whether the author, who loves to draw his images from the sports of the field, might not have written : ' The wounded chase of Antony.' The allusion is to a deer wounded and chased, whom all other deer avoid. I will, says Enobarbus, follow Antony, though chased and wounded. The common reading, however, may very well stand. — Malone : The wounded chance of Antony, is a phrase nearly of the same import as
* the broken fortunes of Antony.* The old reading is indisputably the true one. So,
• Or shall I show the cinders of my spirits, Through th* ashes of my chance.' [V, ii, 204.] — Steevens : Mr Malone has judiciously defended the old reading. In Othello we have a phrase somewhat similar to < wounded chance ' ; vi2. * mangled matter.' [I, iii, 196.]
50. Sits in the winde] Capell (i, 39) : The word * sits ' shews the phrase to be taken from field-sports ; the pursuers of which know, — that scents coming down the wind, or from game that sits or lyes in the wind, are alwa]rs the strongest.
2. Hearke, etc] What phenomenon in nature was it to which Antony here refers, and interprets according to his own despairing mood ? Can it have been the wild tumult on land caused by * the great boisterous wind,' which, according to Plutarch, troubled Anthony's ships more than aught else after he had deserted them ? — Ed.
4. lated] Johnson: Alluding to a benighted traveller.— Steevens : Thus, in Macbeth, III, iii, 10 : * Now spurres the lated traueller apace.'
222 THE TRACED IE OF [act in, sc. xl
And make your peace with Ca/ar. 7
Omnes. Fly ? Not wee.
Ant. I haue fled my felfe, and haue inftrufled cowards To runne, and (hew their (houlders. Friends be gone^ 10
I haue my felfe refoluM vpon a courfe, Which has no neede of you. Be gone, My Treafure's in the Harbour. Take it : Oh, I followed that I blufh to looke vpon.
My very haires do mutiny : for the white 15
Reproue the browne for rafhnefle, and they them For feare, and doting. Friends be gone, you (hall Haue Letters from me to fome Friends, that will Sweepe your way for you. Pray you looke not lad. Nor make replyes of loathnefle, take the hint 20
Which my difpaire proclaimes. Let them be left Which leaues it felfe, to the Sea-fide flraight way; 22
8. Omnes.] Att Cap. Mai. et seq. itself: Cap. et seq. (subs.) 22. (o the] to Ff.
Fly /] Fly ! Rowe et seq. Sea-fide ftraigkl way;'} F^ sea-
13. it: OA,"} Ff. it — OA, Rowe, Pope, su/e straigkt-we^. Rowe, P6pe, Theob.
Theob. Han. Waib. it, OA, Johns, et Han. Warb. seaside, Stra^ktway Johns.
cct (subs.) Var. '73. sea-side straight away; Cap.
21, 22. them., .it felfe,'] Ff, Rowe i. feafidejlraightway: F,F^ Var. *78 et
them be left Which leave themselves. seq.
Rowe ii, + . that be left Which leaves
9. I haue fled my selfe] Does this mean, * I myself have fled,' or ' I have fled from myself? Romeo says (I, i, 190): <I have lost myself. I am not here.* Further on, Anthony says, * Let [that] be left which leaves itself.' — ^Ed.
12. Which has no neede of jtou. Be i^one] This line lacks two syllables. Several ingenious expedients have been proposed to correct this serkms error. Capell reiterates * Be gone * ; Stketens suggested, * Be gone, I say^ ; Kkightlkt, • Be gone, J pray ' or *I pray you.* And Abbott (J 507) asserts that * the best way of arranging ' it is to print * Begone ' in a separate line. Is it to be supposed that Shakespeare was unable to detect the loss of two syllables, and that his resoniroes were insufficient to supply what any child could suggest ? Or is it to be supposed that, after Shakespeare's audience had shuddered on hearing the maimed ntteranoe on the stage, their lacerated feelings were soothed by seeing ' Begone' printed as a separate line ? — Ed.
17, 18. Friends be gone, . . . some Friends] On the supposition that there is some corruption in the repetition of * Friends,' Walkrr (Or/. 1, 288) proposedt 'per- haps, ** FcHows, begone" {socii).* Whereupon, Dtcx (ed. ii) comments: *Here Walker would alter what an earlier line (the second) ci this ^leech proves tobe qnifee right. Whether or not there be any error in ** some friends " I cannot determine.'
20. replyes of loatbnesse] Wordsworth : As if you were loath to do what I saj.
21, 22. Let them be left Which leaues it selfie] Of his own emeadntioQ (
ACT in, sa xi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
223
I will poflefle you of that (hip and Treafure. Leaue me, I pray a little : pray you now, Nay do fo : for indeede I haue loft command, Therefore I pray you, He fee you by and by. Sits downe Enter Cleopatra led by Charmian and Eros.
Eros. Nay gentle Madam, to him, comfort him.
Iras. Do moft deere Queene.
Char. Do, why, what elfe f
Cleo. Let me fit downe : Oh luno.
Ant. No, no, no, no, no.
Eros. See you heere. Sir ?
Ant. Oh fie, fie, fie.
Char. Madam.
Iras. Madam, oh good Empreffe.
Eros. Sir, fir.
Ant. Yes my Lord, yt,s \ he at Philippi kept
23
25
30
35
38
24. funo^ funty— Rowe, 4 . new : Cap. et seq.
26. you^'\you — Rowe, + . y(m:Qx^, et fteq.
Sits downe] Exeunt Att Throws himself on a Couch. Cap. Om. Varr. Mai. Ran.
27. Enter...] Enter Eros, with Cleo- patra... Cap.
28. himy'\ him, Johns, him: Van. Mai.
3a /?<?,] Do ? Rowe ii, + . Do! Cap. et seq.
Char. Do...el/el'\ Om. Words.
30, 31. Char. Do... el/el Cleo. Let"] Geo. Do f...ehe f let Han.
30, 31. Do.,.me\ Separate line, Han.
31. y7/...Iuno.] Separate line, Ktly. downe .*] down. Var. '78 et seq. [sitting down. Coll. ii.
35, 36. Char. Madam. Iras. Madam, ...Empreffe. '\ Om. Words.
35. Madam,'\ Yi, Rowe, Pope, Han. Madam ! Glo. Cam. Madam — Theob. et cet. ( subs. )
36. oh good "l good CaL"^. Emprejfe.'\ empress, — Cap. Dyce.
empress I Glo. Cam.
37. ^r.] sir, my Lord! Han. sir! Glo. Cam. sir, — Cap. et seq. (subs.)
38-41. Mnemonic, Warb.
38. my Lord,'] Om. Han.
Text. Notes) Capell complacently remarks that it is one * which the modems had done well to have made ; instead of altering, as they have done, *' itself ** into them- selves.^ Collier's MS also made the same emendation.
25. I haue lost command] Johnson : I am not roaster of my own emotions. — Stsbyens : Surely, he rather means, — I entreat you to leave me, because I have lost all power to command your absence. [Unquestionably.]
38. Yes my Lord, yes] Capell (i, 39) : These words puzzVd the Oxford editor [Hanmer], and some others besides him ; and that for want of duly reflecting upon the situation of the person who speaks them : Bury'd in thought and sightless, with- out knowledge of what is said to him or where he is, he just hears a voice ; replies to it, as it had come from some courtier or other great person, and relapses immediately into the same train of thinking that engag'd him before ; nor is he wak'd out of it, 'till Eros (either raising his voice, or shaking him) says — < Sir, the queen.^ — [line 54.
224 ^^^ TRACED IE OF [act hi, sc. xi.
His fword e'ne like a dancer, while I flrooke 39
39. e'n€\ Ff, Rowe, +, Var. *2i. Coll. y^.Jtrookeytrook F^F^, Row^+,Cap.
Sing. Dyce, Wh. Sta. Glo. Cam. even struck Var. '73. Cap. et cet
Capell is right, I think, in his interpretation of these words. Anthonj is utterlj unconscious of the world about him; but roused, for a second, by the voice, or, possibly, the respectful hand of Eros, he answers at random with instinctiTe courtesy, which, indeed, is pathetic in the circumstances, < Yes, my lord, yes.' STAUirroN, £iowever, apparently hears in the expression a somewhat petulant tone. ' This kind of rejoinder,' he remarks, * sometimes in play, sometimes in petulance, b not onfre- quent in our old dramas. See Mer, of Ven, II, ix, 89, 90,' — where a Messenger enters and asks, < Where is my LAdy ? ' and Portia gaily replies, < Here, what would my Lord?' As instances similar to this reply of Portia, Dyce {Remarks^ p. 55) quotes ad loc, from / Hen, IV: II, iv : • Hostess, O Jesu I my lord the prince. P. Henry, How now, my lady, the hostess.' From Huh, II: V, v : • Groom. Hail, royal prince ! King Richard, Thanks, noble peer^ And from The Hogge hath Lost his Pearle^ 16 14, sig. H : * Enter Peter with a candle, Peter, Where are you, my Lord? Hog, Here, my Lady,^ Of these three instances, that from Rich, II, should be eliminated, I think. There is neither gaiety nor petulance in Richard's reply to the Groom, but sarcasm, as the context shows. In his note on this same reply of Portia, Staunton sa3rs : * a dozen instances may be cited, where a similar expression is used by an individual of station to one of very inferior rank ' ; but he merely repeats those already given by Dyce, without any addition. In default, therefore, of more examples, we can hardly accept these three, Portia's, Prince Hal's, and Hog*s, as sufficient to warrant the belief that this mode of expression was common; and the fact that in all of them there lies banter or sarcasm, is quite enough to deprive them of any similarity to Anthony's present words, which, I think, stand quite alone, and have been rightly interpreted by Capell. Hudson, however, gives a different meaning to them. ' Antony,' he says, * is muttering to himself under an overpowering sense of shame. In " Yes, my lord, yes," he is referring to Caesar : '* Yes, Qesar, you have done me now, and can have things all 3rour own way." * — Ed.]
38, 39. he at Philippi kept His sword e'ne like a dancer] Johnson : In the Morisco, and perhaps anciently in the Pyrrhick dance, the dancers held swords in their hands with the points upward.— Steeyens : I believe it means that Csesar never offered to draw his sword, but kept it in the scabbard, like one who dances with a sword on, which was formerly the custom in England. — Malone : That Mr Steevens's explanation is just, appears from a passage in AlPs Well; Bertram, lamenting that he is kept from the wars^ says — * Creaking my shoes . . . Till honour be bought up, and no sword worn. But one to dance with.' [II, i, 31.] The word worn shows that in both passages our author was thinking of the English, and not of the Pyrrhick, or the Morisco, dance (as Dr Johnson supposed), in which the sword was not worn at the side, but held in the hand with the point upward. — Staunton (Note on Airs Well, II, i, 31) : As it was the fashion in Shakespeare's time for gentlemen to dance with swords on, and the ordinary weapon was liable to impede their motions, rapiers, light and short, were made for the purpose : — * when our Gentlemen went simply . . . without Cuts or gards, bearing their heauy Swordes
ACT III, SC. xi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 22$
The leane and wrinkled Cojffius, and 'twas I 40
That the mad Brutus ended : he alone
Dealt on Lieutenantry, and no praftife had
In the braue fquares of Warre : yet now : no matter. 43
41. mad'] sad Hau. /ad or mt/d Thtoh, 43. new: no matter] now — no matter
conj. (Nichols ///. ii, $03) withdrawn. — Rowe, + , Var. '73. iww — No matter,
man Cap. conj. (Notes , i, 40; also Gar. Cap. et cet. (sabs.) p. 100) withdrawn.
and Buckelers on their thighes, in sted of cuts and Gardes and light daunsing Swordes* —Stafford's Briefe Conceipt of English Pollicy, 1581.
38-43. Hazlitt (p. 100) : The passage after Antony's defeat by Augustus where he is made to [utter these words] is one of those fine retrospections which shew us the winding and eventful march of human life. The jealous attention which has been paid to the unities both of time and place has taken away the principle of per- q)ectiTe in the drama, and all the interest which objects derive from distance, from contrast, from privation, from change of fortune, from long-cherished passion ; and contracts our view of life from a strange and romantic dream, long, obscure, and infinite, into a smartly contested, three hours' inaugural disputation on its merits by the different candidates for theatrical applause.
41. the mad Brutus] Upton (p. 296) : Why does Antony call Brutus *mad' ? Plato seeing how extravagantly Diogenes acted the philosopher, said of him That he was Socrates run mad. There is also a maxim drawn from the depth of philoso- phy by Horace, Epist. I, vi, 15 : ^ Insani sapiens nomen ferat, sequus iniqui. Ultra quam satis est virtutem si petat ipsam.' Now if this be the opinion of philosophers themselves concerning philosophy, that it may be pursued with so much ardor and enthusiasm, that even the over-strained pursuit may border on madness ; how agree- able it is to the character of the wild, undisciplined Antony, to call even Brutus Mad^ the sober Brutus, the philosopher and patriot ? Such as Antony look on all virtue and patriotism as enthusiasm and madness.
42. Dealt on Lieutenantry] Johnson : I know not whether the meaning is, that Caesar acted only as lieutenant at Philippi, or that he made his attempts only on lieutenants, and left the generals to Antony. — Steevens : I believe it means only, — ' fought by proxy,' made war by his lieutenants, or on the strength of his lieutenants. So, in a former scene, Ventidius observes — < Caesar and Antony have ever won More in their officer^ than person.' — [III, i, 20.] — Malone: In the Life of Antony y Shakspeare found the following : * — they were alwa)rs more fortunate when they made warre by their lieutenants^ than by themselves ' ; — [see III, i, 16] which fully explains the present passage. The subsequent words also — * and no practice had,' etc show that Mr Steevens has rightly interpreted this passage. — M. Mason : Steevens's explanation of this passage is just, and agreeable to the character here given of Augustus. Shak- speare represents him, in the next Act, as giving his orders to Agrippa, and remain- ing unengaged himself : ' Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight . . . .' Again : < Go, chaxge, Agrippa.' — Staunton : Or it may mean traded in war's theory: — • I met just now a usurer, that only deals upon ounces.' — The Witty Fair One, V, i. — Schmidt (Lex. s. v. Deal) : Acted by substitutes.
43. squares of Warre] Century Dictionary ( j. v. Square, 9) : A body of troops drawn up in quadrilateral form. The formation used in the sixteenth century
IS
226 THE TRACED IE OF [act hi, sc. xi.
Cleo. Ah ftand by.
Eros. The Queene my Lord, the Queene. 45
Iras. Go to him, Madam, fpeake to him, Hee's vnqualited with very (hame.
Cleo. Well then, fuftaine me : Oh.
Eros. Moft Noble Sir arife, the Queene approaches. Her head's declined, and death will ceafe her, but 50
44. Ah] Ah me ! Cap. 47. Heis] Walker. HeisYi tX seq. Jland by,] stand you by [To Eros. vnqualiUd] unquaHHed Theob.
Words. et seq.
[rising. Cap. 48. then^ then^ — Cap. et seq.
45. Queene.] queen — Rowe, + . Oh.] Oh ! — Rowe. oh / Theob.
46. 47. Go ,,. vnqualited] One line, 0/Cap.
Cap. Walker, Words. [Rising. Coll. it
46. fpeake to him^ speak ; Words. 50. ceafe] feize Ff et seq.
and afterward was a nearly solid body of pikemen, to which the harquebusiers, cross- bowmen, etc. formed an accessory, as by being posted on the flanks, etc. In Shake- speare's time troops drawn up in battle array were primarily in squares.
47. Hee's vnqualited] Malonb: I suppose she means, he is unsoldier'd. Quality ^ in Shakspeare's age, was often used for profession. — Steevens : Perhaps, unqualitiedy only signifies unmanned in general, * disarmed of his usual faculties,* without any particular reference to soldiership.
50. cease] Hudson < strongly suspects that ** cease" should be retained,' because Shakesp>eare < repeatedly uses cease as a causative verb.' [See Text, Notes for the accepted reading.]
50. but] Johnson : • But * has here, as once before in this play, the force di except or unless, [Johnson refers, probably, to I, i, 57, where the meaning which he claims for the word is somewhat doubtful. See also IV, xi, 2 ; V, i, 34.] — Malone : I rather incline to think that < but ' has here its ordinary signification. If it had been used for unless^ Shakespeare would, I conceive, have written, according to his usual practices, make. — [Possibly, accepting this hint, Dyce conjectured make; and his conjecture was adopted in the text by Hudson and Wordsworth. John- son is so far right, I think, in his interpretation that unless seems a better para- phrase than only^ which is what Abbott (§ 124) gives, with the remark that 'this [present] passage illustrates the connection between " but ** meaning only and •* but " used adversatively.* See notes, especially Walker's, on * But being chaiig'd,' IV, xi, 2, where < But ' can hardly mean only^ and is almost uniformly said to mean unless. In the present passage Franz (§ 414, b. a.) observes that *but* is equiva- lent Xo if . . , not ; that is, * death will seize her, if your comfort does not make the rescue'; and quotes a parallel passage in Twelfth Night (III, i, 40) where Feste says, * I would be sorry, sir, but the Foole should be as oft with your master, as with my Mistress ; ' again, in Love's Lab. Lost (IV, i, 106) where Boyet says, * I am much deceived, but I remember the style.' Where shades of meaning are in question, it is folly to be dogmatic. Yet if choice must be here made between the three mean- ings : * but ' adversative, and * but ' as equivalent to unless^ only, and * but * as equiv- alent to 1/ . . . not, the last seems, I think, the best The use of the indicative
. ,_ *i. J ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 227
Your comfort makes the refcue. S ^
Ant. I haue offended Reputation, A moft vnnoble fweruing.
Eros. Sir, the Queene.
Ant. Oh whether haft thou lead me Egypt, fee 55
How I conuey my (hame, out of thine eyes. By looking backe what I haue left behinde Stroy'd in diflionor. S^
51. makes\ make Dyce conj. Hods. 55. Oh whither] O whi/her Ff tt seq. Words. ^iyp^,] Egypt f Rowe el scq.
refcue] rescue presently V^OT^, (subs.)
52, 53. Reputation.. .fweruing] Sepa- [starting up. Cap. rate line, Ktly. 5^. [Rising. Coll. ii.
52. Reputation,] Ff. reputation^— 57- what] Ff, Coll. Sing. Dyce, Wh.
Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. reputation ; Rowe Sta. Glo. Cam. on what Rowe et cet. etcet /haue] /*ve Tope, -\-.
$2' fweruing.] Ff. swennng—Kowt, 58. Strcytt] 'Stroud Pope,-»-, Cap.
+ , Var. *73. swerving: Cap. Varr. Mai. Ran. Stecv. Varr. Coll. Wh.
• makes ' after the conditional * but,* Franz (J 487, b. Indikativ) ascribes to the sureness, the reality of the conclusion. — Ed.]
52. Reputation] That is, * reputation ' in the abstract. Compare Othello (II, ii, 291, of this ed.) where Cassio exclaims : ' Reputation, Reputation, Reputation : Oh I haue lost my Reputation. I haue lost the immortall part of myselfe, and what remaines is bestiall.'
53. A most vnnoble] Collier (ed. ii) : The MS here has, < By most unnoble,* but it can hardly be called a necessary emendation, although it is very likely what the actor spoke.
55 and 62. Egypt] Coleridge (p. 236) says that *the stage in Shakespeare's time was a naked room with a blanket for a curtain ; but he made it a field for monarchs.' And moreover taught those monarchs the right royal mode of addressing each other. • Who is it thou dost call usurper, France ? * — King John, II, i, 120 ;
• England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood.' — Ibid. II, i, 342 (there is many and many an instance in this same play of King John, where monarchs are the chief actors).
• Myself am Naples * Ferdinand says in The Tempest. There have been already two or three instances in this present play where Anthony addresses Cleopatra as * Eg3rpt,' and there are others in the scenes to come ; notably where Anthony is djring. — Ed.
56. How I conuey my shame, etc. ] Johnson : How, by looking another way, I withdraw my ignominy from your sight. — STAUNTON imparts, better, perhaps, than Johnson, the subtle meaning of * convey * by paraphrasing the sentence thus : * How I pass by sleight my shame out of thy sight, in looking another way.'
57. By looking backe what I haue left behinde] Abbott (§ 200) quotes this passage, among others, as an instance of the omission of the preposition * after some verbs which can easily be regarded as transitive,' and thus explains it : < While turn- ing away from Cleopatra, Antony appears to say, that he is looking back (for) the fleet that he has left dishonoured and destroyed.' Again, in § 220, he interprets the present * looking ' as equivalent to looking . . . for.
58. Stroy'd] Capell (i, 40) : [This word] the present editor was greatly tempted
228 THE TRACED IE OF [act hi, sc. xL
Cleo. Oh my Lord, my Lord , Forgiue my fearfull fayles, I little thought 60
You would haue followed.
Ant. Egypt, thou kneVft too well. My heart was to thy Rudder tyed by'th^ftringfs, And thou (hould'ft ftowe me after. OVe my fpirit The full fupremacie thou kneVft, and that 65
Thy becke, might from the bidding of the Gods Command mee.
CUo. Oh my pardon.
AnU Now I muft To the young man fend humble Treaties, dodge 70
And palter in the (hifts of lownes, who With halfe the bulke o^thVorld plaid as I pleasM, Making, and marring Fortunes. You did know 73
61. foUowed^foUoiifd Pope et seq. i. Coll. Wh. i. Thy full Theob. ii et
63. ^M*] by th' FjF^, Rowe, + . by cct
the Var. '73 et seq. 68. Oh'\ Oh, Rowe. O, Cap.
Jlrings] string Rowe ii, + . 70. TreatUs] treaties Cap. Ktly.
64. Jlcwe\ towe Rowe et seq. (subs.) 71. Jhifts'\ %hift Rowe ii, Pope, Theob.
65. Thifull^ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
to alter; not meerly upon account of it's harshness or it's uncommon aphaeresis, (for that, perhaps, might be justify' d by parallel instances) but because a better image presents itself, — and such a one as the passage seems to point out to, — by the admission of a word very near it in character, — strtu/d or strozt^d. The following comment will shew what the editor thinks, is the image intended ; and which is indeed seen in the words as they stand, but more plainly \i strorafd be admitted : . . .
* By looking back on what I have left behind, Stron/d in dishonour,' or in the paths of dishonour; meaning — his ruin'd fortunes; which, as they had been riches^ or other realities, stroit^d the way which he took in his flight.
63. tyed by'th'strings] Johnson : That is, by the heart-strings,
64. thou should'st] See Abbott, § 326, for examples of this Elizabethan nse of should^ where we now use might or would.
64. should'st stowe] Malone : This is one of the many corruptions occasioned by the transcriber's ear deceiving him. — [Was it the * transcriber ' or the compositor's reader? — Ed.]
64. spirit] Walker's pronunciation of ' spirit ' as a monosyllable would be intoler- able here to our modem ears. See I, ii, 143. — Ed.
65. The fiill supremacie] Dyce {Remarks, p. 247) : Read, with the other modern editors. Thy. In such a case as this the authority of the old eds. is natJking, — [I protest. Not for the sake of upholding the old editions, but because I believe
* 7^e full supremacy ' to be the better reading, — by far the better reading. The emphasis lies on ' full.' * The full ' should be pronounced as the perfect iambus which it is, with the lightest possible utterance of * The ' : *Th' full.' To change it to * Thy full ' converts it to a spondee, takes the emphasis from * full,' and (which is
ACT III, sc, xii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA 229
How much you were my Conqueror, and that
My Sword, made weake by my affection, would 75
Obey it on all caufe.
Cleo. Pardon, pardon.
Ant. Fall not a teare I fay, one of them rates All that is wonne and lofl : Giue me a kifle, Euen this repayes me. 80
We fent our Schoolemafter, is a come backe ? Loue I am full of Lead : fome Wine Within there, and our Viands : Fortune knowes. We fcome her moft, when moft (he offers blowes. Exeunt 84
[Scene XIL]
Enter Ccefar^ AgrippUy and DollabellOy with others.
Ccef. Let him appeare that^s come from Anthony. Know you him. Dolla, Cce/arj 'tis his Schoolemafter, 4
76. on] in Walker (Crii, iii, 303). '85, Ran.
cau/e] causes Cap. Walker. Scene XII. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam.
77. Pardon"] O, pardon Theob, + , Scene VII. Rowe. Scene VIII. (mis- Rdy. print) Pope, Warb. Johns. Scene IX.
78. /ay,] say; Pope ct seq. (subs.) Han. Scene X. Cap. et cet.
80-83. Euen ,,. knowes] Lines end, Caesar's Camp. Rowe. A Camp in
sekoolmaster, ... lead; ... knowes, Han. Egypt* Caesar's Tent Cap.
Cap. et seq. I. Dollabello] F,.
80. me] Om. Ff, Rowe. ... with others.] Thidias, with
81. a come] F,Fj. he come F^ et others. Rowe. Thjrreus, with others, sieq. Theob.
82. Lead:] lead. Coll. Dyce, Sta. Glo. 2. from] for Ff. Cam. 3. Know] Know F,.
83. Within] Om. Han. Cap. Var. '78, 4. Schoolemajler] soothsayer Gar.
of importance), weakens, when repeated, the emphatic force of *Thy' in the next line. — Ed.]
76. cause] Abbott (§ 453) : If the diphthong * cause' be pronounced as a dis- syllable, the difficulty [in the scansion of the line] will be avoided. * P&rdon, p4r- don * is, perhaps, an instance of two consecutive trochees. (There seems no ground for supposing that 'pardon ' is to be pronounced as in French.) [Is not Capell's emendation, ratif^'j, upheld by Walker [Crit, iii, 303) 'for granmiar's sake,' far pref- erable to the pronunciation ca-use? — Ed.]
78. Fall not a teare] Abbott (§291) includes < fall ' in a list of intransitive verbs which are sometimes converted into transitive. FrAnz ($476, c.) explains this con- version by detecting in the verb a causative force, as in the present passage ; and again in the verb ' quail,' V, ii, 104.
78. rates] Staunton : That is, counts for, is equivalent to.
I. Agrippa] Collier : Agrippa does not appear to have been on the stage.
230 THE TR AGED IE OF [act hi. sc. xii.
An argument that he is pluckt, when hither 5
He fends fo poore a Pinnion of his Wing, Which had fuperfluous Kings for Meflengers, Not many Moones gone by.
Enter Ambajfador from Anthony.
Cctfar. Approach, and fpeake. 10
Amb. Such as I am, I come from Anthony : I was of late as petty to his ends. As is the Morne-dew on the Mertle leafe To his grand Sea. 14
9. Ambaffador] Euphronius. Cap. ct -dew Ktly conj.
8cq. Soothsayer. Gar. Freedman, Eros. 13. MertU Uafe\ MyrtU UafY ^, Atyr-
Kemble. tie Leaf F^. myrtU-leaf Dyce, Sta. Glo.
II. Amb.] Eup. Cap. Cam. Ktly.
13. Morne-dew] F^Fj. Mom dew F^, 14. his'] ike Han. Johns. Wh. i, Huds.
Cap. mom-dew Rowe et cet morning- this Tyrwhitt, Ktly.
9. Ambassador] Capell (i, 40) : Finding a name [Euphronius] in Plutarch for [this Ambassador] that is more determinate, it seemM not amiss to give it him here. [See Plutarch, Appendix.]
14. To his grand Sea] Tyrwhitt : To whose grand sea ? I know not. Per- haps we should read : * To this grand sea.' We may suppose that the sea was within view of Cesar's camp, and at no great distance. — Capell (i, 40) : Meaning — the sea that he (the dew-drop) arose from. [Steevens, also, gives this meaning, and adds, *"his" is used for its,'] — Steevkns: « His grand sea* may mean his *full tide of prosperity.' So, in j Hen. VI: IV, viii, 54 : * You are the fount that makes small brooks to flow ; Now stops thy spring ; my sea shall suck them dry. And swell so much the higher by their ebb.' Again, in The Two Noble Kinsmen^ I, iii, 6 : —
• though I know His ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they Must yield their tribute there.' Toilet offers a further explanation of the change proposed by Tyrwhitt:
* Alexandria, towards which Oesar was marching, is situated on the coast of the Mediterranean sea, which is sometimes called mare magnum. Sir John Maundeville [Cap. xlvii.] calls that part of the Mediterranean which washes the coast of Palestine, ' the grete see.' — Ritson : If « his ' be not used for i/j, Shakespeare has made a per- son of • mom-drop.' — R. G. White (ed. i) : * His,' in my judgement is a manifest typographical error. Hanmer corrected it. But of late years * his * has been retained on the supposition that it alludes to the sea as the origin of the dew-drop ! [In his ed. ii, White retains *his,' without comment.]—- Walker, bodi in his Crit. i, 314 and in his Crit. iii, 303, approves of the instead of * his * ; at the latter place, he quotes, in support of his approval, the same passage that Steevens quoted from The Two Noble Kinsmen ; and in a footnote Lettsom, Walker's editor, strenuously upholds the. * It is astonishing,* he says, * that, though this obvious blunder was corrected by Hanmer, more than a century ago, it has maintained itself in all the editions, except Johnson's, that I have consulted. Steevens, even, has defended his by quoting the very passage which Walker here compares on account of the similarity in the sense. But in The Two Noble Kinsmen we have a metaphor ; in
ACT III, sc. xii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 23 1
Ccb/. Bee*t fo, declare thine office. 1 5
Atnb. Lord of his Fortunes he falutes thee, and
Requires to liue in Egypt, which not granted
He Leffons his Requefts, and to thee fues
To let him breath betweene the Heauens and Earth
A priuate man in Athens : this for him. 20
Next, Cleopatra does confeffe thy Greatneffe,
Submits her to thy might, and of thee craues
The Circle of the Ptolotnies for her heyres.
Now hazarded to thy Grace.
C(Bf. For Anthonyy 25
I haue no eares to his requeft. The Queene,
15. Be^f^ Ff, Rowc, + , Dycc, Sta. Gar. Glo. Cam. Be it Cap. ct cct 19. breathl F,, Rowe, Cap. hreathe
17. Egypt ^"l Egypt; Rowe ct seq. FjF^ ct cct
(sabs.) 23. heyres\ heirs F^F^.
18. LeJfoni\ Leffens Ff. 24. Grace"] Gace F,. Requefts., Jo thee] request. . .of thee
Ant. &* Cleop.^ a simile, liad the case been reversed, the writer of the passage in the former play would necessarily have said, '* He no more needs me than the ocean needs a few drops" ; while Shakespeare would have said, just as necessarily, **I am a dew-drop to his grand sea." ' — [There can be no doubt that the sentence is intelli- gible. Hanmer*s emendation is, I think, logically just. It is extremely probable that the error is Shakespeare's. But it is one which demands some little mental analysis to detect and correct, in which, if we indulge, while sitting at the play, Enphronias will have delivered his message and departed before we have settled the propriety of his opening speech. And there are minds of a cast so ignoble as to prefer, where the sense is perfectly obvious, an incorrect word of Shakespeare to a correct one of Hanmer. — Ed.]
17. Requires] Deighton: This verb is seldom used in Shakespeare in the peremptory sense the word would now have in such a context ; compare Hen. VIII: 11, iv, 144, * Most gracious sir, In humblest manner I require your highness. That it shall please you to declare,* etc., said by Wolsey to the king.
17. which not granted] See Abbott (§377) for other instances of the use of the participle * to express a condition, where, for perspicuity we should now mostly insert •* if." ' See « not petty things admitted,' V, ii, 169.
18. He Lessons] Thiselton (p. 20) : * Lessons ' is undoubtedly Shakespeare's word here in the sense of schools or disciplines. The initial capital indicates an emphasis which the feeble lessens would hardly carry, but which the metaphorical « Lessons' carries easily. The fact that the ambassador is on this occasion a school- master should have been sufficient to have warded off the sacrilegious hand of the «mendator.
23. The Circle of the Ptolomies] Johnson: The diadem; the ensign of toyalty.
24. hmsarded] Schmidt (Z^x.) : That is, staked and lost to thee, as at gaming.
232
THE TRACED IE OF
[act m, sc xiL
Of Audience, nor Defire (hall faile, fo (hee From Egypt driue her all-difgraced Friend, Or take his life there. This if (hee performe, She (hall not fue vnheard. So to them both.
Amb. Fortune purfue thee.
Ccef, Bring him through the Bands : To try thy Eloquence, now 'tis time, difpatch, From Anthony winne Cleopatra^ promife And in our Name, what (he requires, adde more From thine inuention, offers. Women are not In their beft Fortunes (Irong ; but want will periure The ne're touchM Veftall. Try thy cunning Thidias^ Make thine owne Edi£l for thy paines, which we Will anfwer as a Law.
27
30
35
40
29. This\ This, Rowc, Pope.
31. thee,^ th€€ I Theob. ct seq. thee^ Anon. ap. Cam.
33. Bands .■] bands. Han. Cap. et seq. [Exit Ambassador. Rowe. Exit Euphronius, attended. Cap.
33. [To Thidias. Rowe, Pope. To Thyreus. Theob. ct seq.
new ^tis time\ nirufs the time Cap. conj.
time^ time ; Theob. Warb. et seq.
difpatch^ dispatch : Cap. Var. '78 et seq. (subs.)
34. Qeopatra, promife'\ Cleopatra
Rowe ii. CleoptUra, promise, Pope, Han. Cleopatra t promise ; Theob. Warb. Cleo- patra ; promise^ Johns. Cap. et seq.
35. ^ame,"] name; Han. what"} when Ff, Rowe,+.
35 » 36. more From'\ more; Frame Kinnear.
36. From thine inuention, offers."] As thine invention offers, Han. [From thine invention) offers. "Warb. Offers from thine invention. Ktly, Huds.
38. ne're touched] nier'touck*d Pope et seq.
Thidias] Thyreus Theob. et seq.
27. nor Desire] See Abbott (§ 396) for other examples of the * ellipsis oi Neither before Nor.^
35,36. adde more From thine inuention, offers] Walker {^Crit. i, 253): Read : * and more. From thine invention, offer.^—K. G. White (ed. i) : The inver. sion in this sentence is so distracting and so needless, that it seems to me quite prob- able, at least, that there has been accidental transposition, and that Shakespeare may have written : — * promise What she requires ; and in our name add more Ofiezs from thine invention.*— [See Text. Notes, for the text of Keichtley and Hudson. White (ed. ii) retained the text of the Folio, with the remark that it b «a fine example of Shakespeare's utter recklessness in the use of language.'] — Dkighton r The position of * offers ' seems to be intentionally emphatic
38. Thidias] Theobald, here and throughout, changed this name to Thyreus, on no other authority than because the name of the ambassador is so given in Nortfa*s Plutarch ; and he has been herein followed by every editor. — Ed.
39, 40. Make thine owne Edidt . . . answer as a Law] Deighton : That is, fix your own reward, if you succeed, and I will consider its payment as binding upon me as a law.
ACT ni. sc. xiu.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 233
Tkid. Ccefarj I go. 41
Ccefar. Obferue how Anthony becomes his flaw,
And what thou think'ft his very a£tion fpeakes
In euery power that mooues.
Thid. Ca/ary I (hall. exeunt. 45
[Scene XIIL]
Enter Cleopatra j EnobarbuSj Ckarmian^& Iras. Cleo. What fhall we do, Enobarbiis ? Eno. Thinke, and dye. 3
41. 45. Thid.] Thyr. Theob. et seq. Scene VIII. Rowe. Scene IX. Pope,
42. flaw^ Yiy Rowe, Pope, Han. Coll. Warb. Johns. Scene X. Han. Act IV. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. Hal. flaw; Theob. Sc. i. Coll. (MS). Scene XI. Cap. et cet. et cet Alexandria. Rowe. A Room in the
43. tkinkfl'\ thinkeft Ff, Rowe. Palace. Cap.
45. exeunt.] Exent. F,. 2. </<?] Om. Steev. conj.
Scene XIII. Dyce, Su. Glo. Cam.
42. how Anthony becomes his flaw] Johnson : That is, how Antony conforms himself to this breach of his fortune. — Staunton: This is not very clear. — Drighton : In ' flaw ' there is, perhaps, an allusion to another meaning of the word, common in Shakespeare, viz. sudden bursts of wind.
45, 44. his very adtion speakes In euery power that mooues] Steevens : So, in Troil, 6r» Cress. IV, v, 57 : ' her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.*
2. Enobarbus] Walker ( Vers, 186) : This name in this play is frequently used as if it were a trisyllable, in whatever way the anomaly is to be explained. [See IV, V, 23 ; IV, vi, 26; IV, ix, 12, 14.]
3. Thinke, and dye] In North's Plutarch mention is made of a convivial club, presumably founded by Anthony after the battle of Actium, the members whereof agreed that they would die together. (See Appendix.^ Supposing that an allusion is here made to this club, Hanmer changed < Thinke ' to Drink, an emendation which has had but two admirers : Warburton and Capell. Both adopted it in their text, and the latter pronounced it ^most true and ingenious.' Johnson did ' not advance it into the page, not being convinced that it is necessary. "Think and die" ; that is, Reflect on your folly ^ and leave the worlds is a natural answer.' — Tyr- WHITT (p. 9) : I grant it would be, according to [Johnson's] explanation, a very proper answer from a moralist or a divine ; but Enobarbus, I doubt, was neither the one nor the other. He is drawn as a plain, blunt soldier ; not likely, however, to offend so grossly in point of delicacy as Hanmer's alteration would make him. I believe the true reading is : ' Wink, and die.* When the ship is going to be cast away, in The Sea Voyage of Beaumont and Fletcher (I, i), and Aminta is lamenting, Tibalt says to her: ' — Go, take your gilt prayer-book, and to your business; Wink, and die : ' insinuating plainly, that she was afraid to meet death with her eyes open. And the same insinuation, I think, Enobarbus might very naturally convey in his return to Cleopatra's desponding question. — Steevens : The old reading may
234 ^^^ TRACED IE OF [act in. sc. xiiL
Cleo. Is Anthony y or we in fault for this ?
Eno. Anthony onely, that would make his will 5
Lord of his Reafon. What though you fled, From that great face of Warre, whofe feuerall ranges Frighted each other ? Why fhould he follow ? The itch of his Affeflion fhould not then Haue nickt his Captain-fhip, at fuch a point, 10
6. though] aithougk Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. Cap. Ktly. k4^ follaw*d
Han. Warb. Stccv. Var. '03, * 13, Ktly. Anon. ap. Cam.
8. a/'A^/']<>/>4/r,Coll. Wh. Cam. Hal. lo. Captain-Jkip^captainship.^om^
Ktly. captainship Pope, Han. captainship;
follow /*] follow you Pope, Theob. Theob. Warb. et seq.
be supported by the following passage in Julius Otsar : * all that he can do Is to himself, take thought, and die for Caesar.* [II, i, 187.] Toilet observes, that the expression of taking thought, in our old English writers, is equivalent to the being anxious or solicitous, or laying a thing much to heart. Tyrwhitt, however, might have given additional support to his reading from a passage in 2 Hen, IV: I, iii, 33 : Med his powers to death And winking leap*d into destruction.' — ^Tyrwhitt : After all that has been written upon this passage, I believe the old reading is right ; but then we must understand think and die to mean the same 9& die of thought, or melancholy. In this sense is thought used below, IV, vi, 43, and by Holinshed, Chronicles of Ireland, p. 97 : * his father lined in the tower — where for thought of the young man his follie he died,* There is a {)assage almost exactly similar in The Beggar's Bush of Beaumont and Fletcher : ' Can I not think away myself and die ? ' [V, i.] — Henley: 'Think and die.* Consider what mode of ending your life is most preferable, and immediately adopt it. — Knight : Here is a noble answer from the rough soldier to the voluptuous queen. . . . We may here very safely trust to the original. — Craik (p. 145) : To think or to take thought, seems to have been formerly used in the sense of to give way to sorrow and despondency. — [Possibly, our most familiar quotation is, * Take no thought for the morrow. * — Matthew, vi, 34.] — Staunton : Despair and die. — Hudson : This is equivalent to grieve our- selves to death.
6. What though] Walker {Crit. ii, 156) Read metri gratia, * What an though' ; unless* what although* be allowable, which I doubt. — Staunton (Athemtum, 26 April, 1873) : Something is missing from the line. Perhaps—* What though you, timorous, fled.*
7. whose seuerall ranges] Staunton : The commentators, perhaps, have a per- ception of what this means, since they pass it silently ; to us it is inexplicable, and we cannot choose but look on * ranges * as a misprint for the rages of grim-visag'd war. — Schmidt {Lex.) : * Ranges,' that is, ranks. [Compare, 'the wide Arch Of the raing'd Empire,' I, i, 46.]
10. Haue nickt] Steevens : That is, set the mark of folly on it So, in The Com. of Errors, * and the while His man with scissors nicks him like a fool.' [V, i, 175. — This passage of itself does not, I think, prove that the hair of fools was inten- tionally cut in nicks; Deighton remarks, *it is only because Pinch's hair was cut in this disfiguring way that he is made to look like a fool.' At this same passage
ACT in, sc. xm.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 235
When halfe to halfe the worid opposed, he being 1 1
The meeied queftion ? Twas a ihanie no lefle
II, 12. ke hemg Tke mutr€d\ hef;ms Cam. m^^wy Bnllorh wurtst Kmnear. The mcrtalOrgja. mmdht Wmstlumure mured MaL d ceL
Wofdft. 12. qmtfiiom /] fuaid&m, Rowe et seq.
12. imeered'\ Yt, Pope,+, Ca{». Vair. (sobs.)
do. jKArRove. a£kv»/ Middrd apu '7sMj]7IfF^ * Tu F,F^ Rowe.
in Cms. ef Errwrs, MalO!CX gnres m qaoCation which he deems ocmcinsiTe ; it is from The Ckoue of Ckamge . . . by S. R. Gent, 1598, ms follows : ' Three things used by monks, which pioroke other men to langh at their follies. I. Thcj are sharen and Dotdied on the head, like foolea.' It is probable that here *fooles* re£eis, not to the domestic or ' allowed fools,* bot to idiots. Doucx (ii, 323), in his ezhanstire essay Om tie Qawm mmd Fools tf Shakespeare, sajs that, * The head was frequently shaTcd in imitation or perhaps ridicule of a monk's crown. Thb practice is very ancient, and can be tnced to the twelfth centory. In one insfanrr, the hair exhibits a sort of triple or Papal down.' The relierence, in the present line, is a coarse one, bot then Enobarbos was of ooane five. From what we know of the neglected personal habits of Fools, the inference is not strained that they were liable to cntaneoos ailments, and of snch ailments the only one that conld ' nick ' anything was the ' itch,' and the only thii^ it ooold nick was the hair. Possibly, this nicking was so common among Fools as to make the term almost synonymous with folly. In the Pathology of those dajrs all ini- fating cntaneoos diseases were called the * itch,' bot this term b ix>t now applied to affections of the scalp. In answer to my qnesdon on the subject, I received from my friend, Dr L. A. Duhung, an acknowledged aathority on Cutaneous Diseases, the fol- lowing reply : — * The affection referred to, in the passage yoo qoote from Antony and QeopatrOt is not the itch, or scabies, but, without question, the common *' ringworm of the scalp," a frequent and well-defined affection, which causes the destruction of the bair, giving to the area invaded a nicked or cropped appearance, and in my works I describe the hair (as do many other writers) as seeming to have been " nibbled off" It is due to a fnngos, and the sensation of itching accompanies it.' — Ed.]
II, 12. be being The meered qaestion] Johnson: «The mered question' is a term I do not undersUnd. I know not what to offer, except * The mooted question.* That is, the disputed point, the subject of debate. Afere is indeed a boundary ; and the meered question, if it can mean anything, may, with some violence of language, mean, the disputed boundary. -^Steey^ss : So, in Stanyhurst's translation of Virgfl, b. iii. 1582 : • Wheare too ioynctlye meaHng a cantel of lulye nccreth.' Barrett, in his Aivearie, 1580, interprets a meere-^uaik^ by Terminalis lapis. « Question ' is certainly the true reading. So, in Hamlet, I, i : * — the king That was and is the question oi these wars.'— M. Mason : Possibly Shakspeare might have coined the word mieered, and derived it from the adjective mere or meer. In that case, the meered question might mean, the only cause of the dispute — the only subject of the quarreL — Knight : Mere is a boundary ; and to mere is to mark, to limit. — Collier (ed. 2) : It is altered to mooted in the MS; but as * mered' may be taken in the sense of soie^ or mere question, we make no change.— R. G. White (ed. i) : It is quite possibly a misprint for mooted. — Ibid. (ed. ii) : An amazing participial adjective, Ibfmed from mere. — [Sorely, in this note we hear the voice of White's • washer- woman' whose advice he said he took (see his Preface, p. xii) in the selection of his
236
THE TRACED IE OF [act in, sc. xiii.
Then was his loffe, to courfe your flying Flagges, And leaue his Nauy gazing.
Cleo. Prythee peace.
Enter the Atnbaffadar jwith Anthony.
Ant. Is that his anfwer? Amb. I my Lord.
Ant. The Queene fhall then haue courtefie, So fhe will yeeld vs vp.
Am. He fayes fo.
Antho. Let her knoVt. To the Boy Cafar fend this grizled head, and he will fill thy wiflies to the brimme, With Principalities.
Cleo. That head my Lord ?
Ant. To him againe, tell him he weares the Rofe Of youth vpon him : from which, the world (hould note
13
15
20
25
1 6. Enter. . . ] Enter Antony with Amb. Rowe. Enter Antony with Euphronius. Cap.
17. M«/] this Ff, Rowe. I7» etc. Amb.] Eup. Cap.
18-20. The Queene. ,.fo.'\ Lines end, Queen,,. yield, „5o, Han. Cap. Steev. Var.
'73. *78.
18, 19. The Queene... So Jhe] One line, Mai. Ran. Var. *2I, Coll. Sjng. Dyce, Wh. i, Glo. Cam. Hal. KUy.
The Queene ... yeeld '\ One line,
Knt.
18, 19. The Queene... vs tffi] One line, Sta.
2a J/e"] My Lord, he Han. Cap.
21, 22. Let her... brimme'] Lines end, knau/t. ...head J ...brim, Rowe et seq.
21. knov/t] Ff, Rowe, + , Cap. Dyce» Sta. Glo. Cam. know it then Steer, conj. know it Var. * 73 et cet.
25. agedne,] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. again. Johns, again ; Theob. et cet.
comments. He himself was too experienced an editor to be < amazed ' at Shake- speare*s freedom in forming participles. — Ed.] — Staunton: Possibly, the entire^ or sole question; but the word reads suspiciously. — Abbott (§ 294): The word < meered ' is marked as corrupt by the Globe ; but perhaps it is the verb from the adjective meere or mere, which in Elizabethan English means entire. Hence, * he being the entire question,* f. e. Antony, being the sole cause of the battle, ought not to have fled. — Elton (p. 141) ; The tillage-lands and cow-pastures were protected by banks and fences called meers ; and the name in time came to mean a ' marking off* for any special purpose. Enobarbus applied it to Antony: — *The meered question.' — [If * meered * means marked off, as Elton would have it, it seems to yield a meaning, if intelligible, at variance with the drift of Enobarbus's speech. So far from Anthony's being marked off or excluded from the question, he was the very soul of it. I prefer the interpretation of Mason and Abbott. — Ed.]
19. So she will yeeld vs vp] For an exposition of the process whereby j« assumes the function of a conditional conjunction, see Franz, § 413.
21. the Boy Csesar] The battle of Actium was fought almost on Csesar*s faiith- day. He was bom on the 23rd of September, B.C. 63, and the battle took place on the 31st of September, B.C. 31 ; eight days after he had entered his thirty-second year. Anthony was just twenty years older, — in his fifty-second year. — Ed.
ACT ni. sc. xiu.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 237
Something particular : His Coine, Ships, Legions, 27
May be a Cowards, whofe Miniflers would preuaile
Vnder the feruice of a Childe, as foone
As iWCommand of Ca/ar. I dare him therefore 30
To lay his gay Comparifons a-part,
And anfwer me declined, Sword againll Sword, 32
28. Mim/iers\ ministries Cap. Ran. 31. a-part^ apart F^F^.
30. J 'M*] Vthe Cap. el seq. 32. d<cKn'd,^ decliH*d; Coll. Hal.
31. O>mparifons'\ caparisons Pope, declin^ d %va%. Han. Wh. i. Sing. Ktly, Huds.
27. particular] Walker ( Crit, iii, 304) : That is, personal, individual. Ford, Lev^s Sacrifice^ I, i : 'If singular beauty, unimitable virtues, honour, youth, and absolute goodness be a fortune, all those are at once offered to your particular choice. . . . The great and gracious Lady Fiormonda loves you, infinitely loves you.' [p. 16, ed. Dyce.]
28. whose Ministers] Capell (i, 41, see Text, Notes) : That is, ministrations, services administer'd ; but what the < ministers of coins^ skips^ and legions^ may be, those gentlemen should (methinks) have informed us, who have let the word stand in their several editions. — [The volume containing this play, although bearing the number 8, was only the second that Capell sent to press. It bears the mark of his 'prentice hand. After more experience, he would not have emended the text, and we should not have had the foregoing note. It would have occurred to him that < ministers ' here means the agents who execute the purposes of coins, ships, and legions. — Ed.]
31, 32. gay Comparisons a-part, And answer me declin'd] Heath (p. 460) : That is, those pleasing comparisons which Caesar would naturally make between his own circumstances and those of Antony, resulting from the advantage he had so lately obtained. * And answer me declin'd' as I am, in power and reputation. — Capell (i, 41) : By 'comparisons,' are meant — those advantages which put the world upon making comparisons between Caesar and himself : these advantages, he dares Caesar to lay aside or decline y and then to answer him, < sword against sword.* — Johnson : I require of Caesar not to depend on that superiority which the * comparison * of our different fortunes may exhibit to him, but to answer me man to man, in this < decline ' of my age or power. — [Warburton has a note to the same effect, but its display of his knowledge of Italian, as fanciful as it is vainglorious, excluded it, I suppose, from the pages of the early Variorums. Malone remarks, * I have sometimes thought that Shakespeare wrote, — " gay caparisons:' * It is truly surprising that Malone should not have been aware that caparisons is the text of both Pope and Hanmer.] — Singer (reading caparisons') : To * gay caparisons ' the next speech gives as an equivalent, 'unstate his happiness,' — let him take off his imperial trappings. *■ Declin'd ' must mean inclined^ sloped^ as swords are sloped one against another at the commencement of a combat. The word is technical and we have elsewhere : — Trail. &* Cress. IV, v, 189, * hung thy advanc'd sword i'the air. Not letting it decline on the declined.' — R. G. White (ed. i) : Caesar had made no comparisons of any kind, as may be seen by reference to the single speech which he addresses to Euphronius in the previous Scene. Antony, however, has more than once, and
238 THE TRACE DIE OF [act hi, sc. xiii.
Our felues alone : He write it : Follow me. 33
Eno. Yes like enough : hye battelM Ccefar will Vnftate his happineffe, and be Stag'd to'th'fhew 35
Againft a Sworder. I fee mens Judgements are A parcell of their Fortunes, and things outward Do draw the inward quality after them 38
33. [Exit Ant. Rowe. Exeunt Ant. G)ll. iii. enoughy „, sworder, Var. '73
and Euph. Cap. et cet.
34-42. Yes„Joo\ Aside, Cap. Dycc, 34. hye baUeVd^kye-battePdYL
Glo. Cam. KUy. 35. tdth'^ F,. to th' FjF^. Rowe,+.
34-36. enough :.,. Sworder,"] Ff, Rowe, r/Ae Hal. to the Cap. et cet
+ ,Cap. enough^ „.sworder.'T>yc^ySiBt^ 36-39. Mnemonic, Warb.
Glo. Cam. Ktly. enough! .,, sworder ! 38. quality] qualities CoW, VLS,
just before, alluded to the youth and gayety of Octavius, and he now summons him to lay aside everything but armor and a sword, and meet him face to face in single combat. [In the next clause] it seems to me that there has been an accidental trans- position, and that we should read 'sword against sword declined.* — [Deighton, RoLFE (who * suspects that caparisons * is the true reading), Wordsworth, Her- FORD all give good paraphrases, but none is, I think, better or more concise than Collier (ed. ii), as thus : ' That is, his gay, youthful, and triumphant condition, as compared with me, in my declined or fallen state.' Deighton justly says, * there is probably a special allusion to Antony's declining years as compared with Caesar*s youth.' That Anthony refers, not to Csesar's outward trappings, his caparisons ^ but to immaterial conditions, receives confirmation, I think, from the words of Enobarbus when he derides the thought that ' the full Caesar will answer Anthony's emptiness.' That 'declin'd ' has nothing whatsoever to do with swords, is clear, I think, from its use in the very same sense, as I believe, in Caesar's lament over Anthony's death, where he says, < I must perforce Haue shewne to thee such a declining day. Or looke on thine,' V, i, 47.— Ed.]
35. Stag'd to'th'sbew] Henley : That is, exhibited, like conflicting gladiators, to the public gaze.
36. etc. I see mens ludgements, etc.] Thiselton (p. 20) : This speech is excellently punctuated in the Folio. Modem editors not seeing that < that' in line 39 introduces the ground of Enobarbus' inference (see Abbott, § 284), and in their abhorrence of anything like a long sentence, place a full stop after * alike,' and a note of exclamation after * emptinesse,' and so weaken the tension of the style. It may be safely asserted that no one can derive an adequate conception of the energy of Shakespeare's style from the study of a modem text — [To follow here the punctu- ation of Shakespeare's printers is, I think, to rob the speech of its vigour, and convert into a philosophic, didactic observation what was intended to be indignant astonish- ment. Rowe's dramatic instinct revealed to him the derision, nay, almost the con- tempt, which lay in the words, *That he should dreame,' etc. We hear the same indignant, derisive tones in Geopatra's *To say as I said then ! ' (I, v, 88) ; or in * The way to lose him ! ' (I, iii, 14) ; or * so tart a fauour To trumpet such good tidings ! ' (II, v, 48.)— Ed.]
37. A parcell of their Fortunes] Steevens : That is, as we should say at pres- ent, are of a piece with them.
ACT III, sc. xiii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 239
To fuffer all alike, that he fhould dreame,
Knowing all meafures, the full Cafar will 40
Anfwer his emptineffe ; Cafar thou haft fubduMe
His iudgement too.
Enter a SeruanU
Set. A Meffenger from Cafar.
Cleo. What no more Ceremony ? See my Women, 45
Againft the blowne Rofe may they ftop their nofe, That kneelM vnto the Buds. Admit him fir.
Eno. Mine honefty, and I, beginne to fquare, 48
39. oiiAf^ that'\ alike. That Rowe ct 46. nofe^ noses Walker, Huds. Words,
seq. 47. [Exit Attendant. Gip.
41. emptineffe ;'\ emptiness ! Theoh, ti 48. Eno.J Eno. [Aside.] Han. Cap. seq. et seq.
42. iudgement ] judegement F,. fquare^ square ; Rowe, + . square, 46. their'\ the Kinnear. Gip. et seq.
39. To suffer] Staunton : The verb is apparently used here in an active sense, meaning to punish or afflict,
40. Knowing all measures] Collier (Notes, etc. p. 497, ed. ii) records miseries as the correction of his MS and explains that thereby * Enobarbus refers to the woe- fol plight and prospects of Antony at the time he dared Caesar to " lay his gay com- parisons apart," and meet him "sword against sword." ' — Anon. (Blackwood, Oct p. 467, 1853) : That is, it is surprising that Antony, who has experienced every measure of fortune, has drunk of her fullest as well as of her emptiest cup, should dream that the full Caesar will answer his emptiness. Here the words full and emptiness prove to a demonstration that < measure * is the right word ; yet Collier's MS alters it to miseries !
40. lull] Thidias, line 107, calls Caesar * the fullest man,' i, e. the most perfect
46. blowne Rose . . . their nose] Walker (Crit. iii, 305) : Shakespeare would not have tolerated this cacophony; besides, the old grammar requires noses. — Lettsom (Footnote to preceding) : Walker is, I think, mistaken [Unquestionably. — Ed.] in this latter observation, though I agree with the preceding part of the note. — Staunton (Athenaum^ 26 Apr. 1873) • Walker has noticed the insufferable cacophony of 'rose* and • nose,* which assuredly Shakespeare would never have endured. But his pro- posal to read noses is not a convincing remedy. My belief is that the line originally stood * — may stop their senseJ* That is, their sense of smelling ; which, not being understood, was changed into 'nose.* — [Hereupon Staunton gives several quotations where sense is applied to seeing, to hearing, to smelling; the most apposite is, * You smell this business with a sense as cold,* etc. — Wint. Tale, II, i. But it is to be doubted that any number of quotations would justify a change of the text. The cacophony may be possibly softened, if, in reading the line, the emphasis be strongly laid on • blown ' : — * Against the blown rose may they stop their nose.* Was it not for this purpose that Shakespeare threw the ictus on * blown ' ? — Ed. ]
47. Admit him sir] An instance of the use of * sir * in addressing persons of humble rank. — Ed.
48. beg^inne to square] Peck (p. 224) is reluctant to accept for 'square' the
240
THE TRACED IE OF
[act III, sc xiii.
The Loyalty well held to Fooles, does make Our Faith meere folly : yet he that can endure To follow with Allegeance a falne Lord, Does conquer him that did his Mafter conquer, And eames a place i'th'Story.
Enter Tkidias.
Cleo. Ccefars will.
Thid. Heare it apart.
Cleo. None but Friends : fay boldly.
Thid. So haply are they Friends to Anthony.
Enob. He needs as many (Sir) as C(sfar ha's,
50
55
59
49. The\ Th(^ Theob. Han. 53. »»M»] iUhe Cap. et scq. 55. wilL'\ will? Theob. et seq.
57. None^ None here Han. ncne Ktly. No one Walker. /ay\ say on Cap.
Her^s
de6nition quarrel^ and, after quoting passages from Mid. M, Dream, Wmt, Tale, and TU. And, wherein the word occurs in that sense, and in each instance pro- posing jar, or squall as a substitute, quotes the present passage, and observes, 'Yet, upon the whole, perhaps Shakespeare never wrote "square" to express a quarrel. For I am sometimes inclined to think he wrote, in most of these places, sparre.'* Be it remembered that Peck wrote in 1740. — Ed.
49. The Loyalty well held to Fooles, etc.] Theobald : After Enobarbos has said, that hb honesty and he begin to quarrel, (f . e. that his reason shews him to be mistaken in his firm adherence to Antony) he iounediately falls into this generous reflection : ' Tho' lo3ralty, stubbornly preserved to a master in his declined fortunes, seems folly in the eyes of fools ; (t. e. men, who have not honour enough to think more wisely), yet he, who can be so obstinately loyal, will make as great a figure on record, as the conqueror.* I therefore read : ' Thd loyalty, well held, to fools does make Our faith mere folly,' etc. — Johnson : I have preserved the old reading : Enobarbus is deliberating upon desertion, and finding it is more prudent to forsake a fool and more reputable to be faithful to him, makes no positive conclusion. — Capexx (i, 41) : The change of * The' \vXo—Tho^, robs this speech of it's greatest beauty ; by destroying, or lessening at least, that air of unsettledness that is much more visible in it when the propositions are not connected : a good speaker would shew this, sooner than words ; by making a pause after ' folly,' and pronouncing 'yet' with mn ictus, with the force of — and yet.
53. a place] Staunton : That is, a seat of dignity.
59. Enob. He needs as many, etc.] Malone : I suspect that this speech belongs to Cleopatra, not to Enobarbus. Printers usually keep the names of the persons, who appear in each scene, ready composed ; in consequence of which, sp>eeches are often attributed to those to whom they do not belong. Is it probable that Enobaibns should presume to interfere here ? The whole dialogue naturally proceeds betwecni Cleopatra and Thyreus, till Enobarbus thinks it necessary to attend to his own interest, and says what he speaks when he goes out. The plural number (aa), which suits Cleopatra, who throughout the play assumes that royal style, strengthens
ACT III, sc. xiii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 241
Or needs not vs. If Ccefar pleafe, our Mafter 60
Will leape to be his Friend : For vs you know, Whofe he is, we are, and that is Cafars.
ThidSo. Thus then thou moft renownM, Ca/ar intreats, Not to confider in what cafe thou ftand'ft Further then he is Ccefars. 65
61. F(i>r vs you"] For as you ¥(, Kowe, et seq. (subs.)
Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. 63. intreats'] entreats Cap. Mai. Stee^.
62. that w] that^s Pope, + , Steev. ct seq. entreats thee Ktly.
Varr. Coll Sing. Wh. i. 65. Cafars.] Casar's. Mai. Ran. Var.
63. .S^.] Separate line. Pope et seq. '21, Coll. i. Ca/ar, Ff et cet renorvn^df'] renowned ; Han. Cap.
my conjecture. The words, ' our master/ it may be said, are inconsistent with this supposition ; but I apprehend, Cleopatra might have thus described Antony, with sufficient propriety. They are afterwards explained: 'Whose he is, «v are.* Antony was the master of her fate. — Steevens : Enobarbus, who is the buffoon of the play, has already presumed to interfere between the jarring Triumvirs, and might therefore have been equally flippant on the occasion before us. For this reason, as well as others, I conceive the speech in question to have been rightly appropriated in the old copy. What a diminution of Shakspeare's praise would it be, if four lines that exactly suit the mouth of Enobarbus, could come with equal propriety from the lips of Qeopatra !
6a Or needs not vs] Heath (p. 461) : The poet's meaning is this: In his present fortune Antony needs as many friends as Caesar hath, or else he needs not even us, whose small number and want of power render us incapable, without other assistance, of being of any service to him. If Csesar so pleases, our master will leap to be his friend; for, as you know very well, though we are indeed our master's friends, yet both he and we are at present pretty much at Caesar's discretion.
6a Or needs not vs. If Caesar please,] Warburton : All sense is lost in this £dse pointing, which should be reformed thus : * Or needs not us if Caesar please.' That is, while he is at enmity with Caesar he needs a power equal to Caesar's ; but if he pleases to receive Antony into his friendship he will then want no other sup- port. This is sensible and polite. — [For all its sense and politeness, no editor or commentator has paid any attention to it.]
61. For vs you know] Capell (i, 41. See Text. Notes.) : Upon reading this speech in former editions, the annotator was struck with seeing, in the last line but one, a consequence drawn from premises that can never fairly be made to yield it : he observed too, that the causal particle * For * was printed with a great letter ; and — concluding from both these circumstances, that no consequence was intended, — thought rashly that « For' was a mistake, and to be amended by — Or: But, looking into the folio's again, while this note was in penning, he found a word in the first of them (overslipt in collation) that makes amendment unnecessary, and even injuri- ous; for by reading, as that does,—* For us,* (i. e. As for us,) this member of the speech has another aspect, and is so clear as to need no explaining. — [Which, being interpreted, means that he withdraws the emendation in his text : Or^ as.]
65. Further then he is Caesars] * Caesars ' is as clearly a misprint here as it is in « shee, Eros, has Packt Cards with Caesars.'— IV, xiv, 24. It is correctly printed z6
242 THE TRACED IE OF [act hi. sc. xiii.
Cleo. Go on, right Royall. 66
Thid. He knowes that you embrace not Anthony As you did loue, but as you feared him.
Cleo. Oh. 69
66. on^ right'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope, on, — Huds.
Right Johns, on ; — right Theob. et cet 68. feared^ feared Theob. et seq.
(subs. ) 69. Oh. ]0h/ [Aside.] Rowe, + . Var.
67. fmh'ace'] embra^ dQjK^, conj. Ran. '73.
* Caesar ' in F, which has been followed by every editor except three, and of these Col- lier (ed. i) is silent, and Rann is an echo of Malone, whose note is as follows : ' It has just been said, that whatever Antony is, all his followers are ; " that is, Char's." Thyreus now informs Qeopatra that Csesar entreats her not to consider herself in a state of subjection, further than as she is connected with Antony, who is Casat^s : intimating to her (according to the instructions he had received from Caesar, to detach Qeopatra from Antony), that she might make separate and advantageous terms for herself.' Rann's note is as follows : ' Than as thou art connected with Antony who is now at Caesar's discretion.' Warburton, adopting 'Caesar' of F,, thus para- phrases : ' That is, Caesar intreats, that at the same time you consider your desperate fortunes, you would consider he is Caesar : That is, generous and forgiving, able and willing to restore them.' Capell (i, 41) follows thus: * Nor will Thjrreus* address to Qeopatra be conceiv'd very readily; for, being a tender matter, it is worded with great caution, and from thence it's obscurity : the purport of it is, — that Caesar would have her think, that she is in the hands of a conqueror ; but think at the same time, that that conqueror is Gesar, one unable to use his power to her prejudice.*
66. Go on, right Royall] Daniel (p. 82) suggests, with probability, that 'right Royair belongs to Thidias. If, however, it is spoken by Qeopatra, as it now stands, the purpose of such flattery so early in the interview is somewhat obscure, and the absolute use of an adjective, * Royall ' does not help to make the phrase any clearer. In the last scene of the play, Caesar, looking on Cleopatra's fair corpse, says, « She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royall. Took her own way.' This latter clause has been interpreted as a reference to * Harts Royal,' which, by the Forest Laws, were suffered to roam where they pleased, protected from all molestation. To the majority of Shakespeare's audience, every term in Venery was as familiar, I suppose, as the names of vegetables. Can it be that here, in 'right Royal ' there is an allusion, readily caught by the audience, to • harts royall,' the undisputed lords of the forest ? — ^Ed.
67. that you embrace not] Capell (i, 42) : It does not seem to be Thyreus* business, to insinuate— that Antony is still lov'd by Qeopatra : therefore * embrace,' in this line, should \it-^mbra^d; and the words •fear'd' and 'did love,' in the next line absolutely require it.
69. Oh] What does this mean ? What emotion does it express ? It b the key- note to our interpretation of Cleopatra's bearing during this interview. And how is that bearing to be interpreted ? If we believe that she is here playing false to Anthony, this * Oh ' must be a shudder. If she is true to Anthony,— and nothii^^ in this play can make me believe otherwise, — and is merely, with consummate skill, drawing on the Ambassador in order to probe to the bottom Caesar's plans so that
ACT III. sc xiii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA
243
Thid. The fcarre's vpon your Honor, therefore he Does pitty, as conflrained blemifhes, Not as deferued.
Cleo. He is a God, And knowes what is mod right. Mine Honour Was not yeelded, but Conquered meerely.
Eno. To be fure of that, I will aske Anthony. \ Sir, fir, thou art fo leakie That we muft leaue thee to thy finking, for Thy deereft quit thee. Exit Enob.
Thid. Shall I fay to Ccefary What you require of him : for he partly begges To be defir'd to giue. It much would pleafe him, That of his Fortunes you fhould make a ftaflfe To leane vpon. But it would warme his fpirits
70
75
80
84
70. /carr^s] fcarres F^F^. fears F^.
73. He is\ He^s Walker, Dyce ii, iii.
73-75. He ts .., ineerely'\ Lines end, right, ... meerly Rowe. Lines end, knows ...yielded^ ,., meerly Pope et seq.
76. Eno.] Eno. [Aside.] Han. Cap. et seq.
76,77. To be.,, leakie^ Lines end, /Atf/, „Jeaiy Pope et seq.
77. Sir^ Jir, thou art'\ Sir, thou'rt
Pope, Thcob. Han. Waib. Sir^ sir, thou^rt Steev. Varr. Coll. Sing. Wh. i, HaL
78. to'\ Om. Ff.
81. him .•] him ? Pope et seq.
for'\ Om. Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
83. Jhoutd"] would Rowe ii, + , Varr. Ran.
84-86. To leane ... Land-lord "] Lines end, upon, ,., me .,. yourself,,, landlord Johns. Var. '73.
she can protect Anthony and herself, then this < Oh * is shocked surprise, inadvertently escaping from her at the bare suggestion that she feared Anthony more than she loved him, — Anthony ! for whom her love was without a bourn I With whatever tone it was uttered, the Ambassador was quick to interpret it not otherwise than as a con- 6rmation of his insinuation. — Ed.
72, 73. Not as deserued. He is a God] Walker ( Crit. iii, 305) suggests that the 'deserved' of the Folio be retained and that H^s be read for «He is.* — [Attempts to force broken lines into r^jular rhythm deserve, I think, but little heed; for actors they are valueless. In the present case, which is the better emphasis : • He's a God^ implying astonishment, and that the knowledge of Caesar's divinity has just dawned on the speaker ; or * He is a God,* implying that Caesar's divinity is well-known, and that in this reluctant assent lies a fresh and convincing proof of it ? —Ed.]
78, 79. for Thy deerest quit thee] Staunton, by referring to his note on « For yon sink' (H, vii, 69), intimates that the present *for* is the same as the *for* in that passage and that both should be printed *fore, I doubt it in both cases,— in the piesent case, emphatically. By the manner in which Qeopatra was at that very minute receiving Thidias, Enobarbus imagined that he saw proof that she had already 'quit* Anthony. — En.]
84. spirits] Possibly, Walker's rule as to the monosyllabic pronunciation of
244
THE TRACE DIE OF
[act III, sc. xiii.
To heare from me you had left Anthony^
And put your felfe vnder his (hrowd, the vniuerfal Land-
Cleo. What's your name ? (lord.
Thid. My name is Thidias.
Cleo. Mod kinde Meflenger, Say to great Cafar this in difputation, I Idfle his conqu'ring hand : Tell him^ I am prompt
85
90
86. Jhrcwd^ shroud Theob. ii, Warb. Johns. Var. '73. shrowd, the great Han. Gip. shrewdy who is Co\L ii, iii (MS), Kdy, Huds. stewardship Bulloch.
86, 87. the vniuerfal Land\lord^ Separate line, Han. Cap. Var. '78 et seq.
Land'{lord'\ Landlord (oppo- site line 89), F,.
^, Thidias] Thyreus Theob. et seq.
90. this in di/putation^'] Ff, Rowe, Pope, this ; in deputation Theob. Han. Warb. Johns. Cap. Ran. Sing. Dyce, Wh. GIo. Cam. Ktly, Coll. iiL this ; in dis- putation Var. '78, '85, Mai. Steev. Varr. Knt, Coll. i, Sta. Hal. that in disputation CoU. ii (MS).
91. I am\ Pm Pope,+, Dyce ii, iii.
* spirit • does not here apply ; and yet the verse seems to require it See I, ii, 143. —Ed.
86. And put your selfie vnder his shrewd] Abbott (§ 505) : Lines with four accents are, unless there is a pause in the middle of the line, very rare. The fol- lowing, however, seem to have no more than four accents. — [Among the examples then given by Abbott is found the present line (it has been printed as a separate line in eveiy edition since 1778), and it has seemed, apparently, in Abbott's eyes so unmistakeably of four accents and pauseless withal, that he has queried if it be not corrupt. But is it pauseless ? Is Thidias so little of a diplomatist that he fiuls to feel his way ? His keen eyes are reading every emotion that flits over Qeopatra's face. He has won her ear. He has represented Csesar as almost cringing before her. He has ventured perilously near to the assertion that she bears no love to Anthony, and he has met no scornful denial ; and now approaches the supreme moment, the sole object of his mission, when, with her own consent, he is to get her into Caesar's power. 'And put yourself,' he slowly says, and pauses, watching, and would hare said
* beyond temptation,' or * far from Anthony's power,' or anything else to that effect, had he read a trace of cold suspicion in the eyes before him. But what he read so far emboldened him that he then, and not till then, dared complete the sentence, — ' under his shrowd.' I venture to hope that a dramatic necessity is here shown for a pause long enough to remove the line from Abbott's list of anomalies and to purge it from corruption. — Ed.]
86. shrowd] Derived from Anglo-Saxon scrUd^ a garment, clothing. Secondly, a winding sheet, etc. In the present line it means protection. — Century Dictionary. [The only instance given by Schmidt {Lex,) of this noun thus used. Compare Milton, Comusy 147, where Comus bids his troop, < Run to your shrouds within these brakes and trees.' — Ed.]
90, 91. Say to great Csesar this in dispuUtion, I kisse his conqu'rinc^ hand] Theobald : The poet certainly wrote : * Say to great Csesar this ; in deputation I kiss his conqu'ring hand : ' t. e. by proxy ; I depute you to pay him that duty in my name. — [Warburton reprinted this note in his edition, word for word, without acknowledge-
ACT III. sc. xiU.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 245
To lay my Crowne at's feete, and there to kneele. 92
92. at^5\ Ff, Rowe, + y Knt, Coll. a/ Am Cap. et cet Sing. Dyce, Wh. Sta. Hal. Glo. Cam.
ment ; as liis, it was repeated in subsequent editions, and to him, as the author, it is always ascribed. The Cam. Ed.^ while according the first appearance of deputation in print to Theobald, attributes its suggestion to Warburton by printing his name in parenthesis after Theobald' s. I suppose that for this the editors of that edition find their authority in what Theobald says in his note, which reads thus : * The Poet certainly wrote (as Mr Warburton likewise saw, we must restore),' etc. I cannot but believe that Theobald here means merely that he had submitted the emendation to Warbur- ton and that the latter had appxx>ved of it Never would Theobald have hesitated to mnnounce the real authorship, had it not been his. It is true, I have searched through the voluminous correspondence of the two men and have found no mention of this passage; but all the correspondence has not been preserved. — Ed.] — Steevsns: I am not certain that this change is necessary. ' I kiss his hand in disputation ' — may mean, I own he has the better in the controversy. I confess my inabihty to dispute or contend with him. To dispute may have no immediate reference to words or language by which controversies are agitated. So, in Macbeth : * Dispute it like WL man ; * and Macduff, to whom this short speech is addressed, is disputing or con- tending with himself only. Again, in Twelfth Night : ' For though my soul disputes well with my sense.' If Warburton's change be adopted, we should read — * by deputation.' — M. Mason : I have no doubt but deputation is the right reading. Steevens having proved, with much labour and ingenuity, that it is but by a forced and ttimatural construction that any sense can be extorted from the words as they stand. ^-BCalonb: I think Warburton's conjecture extremely probable. The objection founded on the particle in being used, is, in my apprehension, of little weight Though ty deputation is the phraseology of the present day, the other might have been com- mon in the time of Shakspeare. I have found no example of in deputation being VMd in the sense required here. — Collier (ed. i) : As a clear meaning is afforded by ^disputation,' in the sense of controversy, or contest, we adhere to the text of all the old editions. At the same time the plausibility of Warburton's change is not to be disputed. — Ibid. (ed. ii) : Warburton's suggestion is fully confirmed by the MS which adds that we must also read that for * this ' of the old copies. — Staunton : We are of opinion that, as in II, vii, 8, disposition was misprinted 'disputation,' the reciprocal error has been perpetrated here, and that the poet wrote * in disposition^* that is, in inclination, willingly, [Staunton has misquoted his own note at II, vii, 8, where the text is * disposition,' which he conjectured should be disputation."] — R.G. White (ed. i) : For obvious reasons I have no hesitation in adopting Warbur- ton's reading. — Schmidt [Lex.): 'Disputation' is perhaps equivalent to 'say to Caesar this, as the plea which I put in.* — [It is not easy to see what valid objection there can be to 'disputation.* To be sure, it is a large word for a fair woman's mouth, but it was not too large for poor Lucretia's. Possibly, Geopatra wished to minimise as much as possible the uncomfortable fact that she had been actually at war with Caesar, so she called her warfare a ' disputation,' which it certainly was, and a good deal more ; but this she keeps in the background. Moreover, ' in deputation ' is undeniably awkward ; and besides, can a kiss be sent by proxy without giving it to the bearer ? I ask in ignorance. These objections are, it seems to me, sufficient to awaken suspicion of any emendation, and to counsel loyalty to the Folio. — Ed.]
246 THE TRACE DIE OF [act hi, sc. xiii.
Tell him, from his all-obeying breath, I heare 93
The doome of Egypt
Thid. ^Tis your Nobleft courfe : 95
Wifedome and Fortune combatting together, If that the former dare but what it can. No chance may fhake it Giue me grace to lay My dutie on your hand.
Cleo. Your Cce/ars Father oft, • icx>
(When he hath mus'd of taking kingdomes in) Beftow'd his lips on that vnworthy place. As it rainM kiffes . 103
93. Tell ,„ bretUh] One line, Rowe, 96-98. Mnemonic, Warb.
Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. loo. oft,"] Om. Han. [giving her hand.
/rofn\ that from 'Rawe^-{-, Cap.
aU-obeying'\ all-swaying Anon. lOO, xoi. oft,„in\ One line, Steev.
ap. Cam. Var. '03, '13, Knt, Sing. Ktly. 95. » Tis\ It is Han.
93. from his all-ol>e3dng breath] Johnson : < Doom ' is declared rather by an aU'Commanding, than an < all -obeying breath.' I suppose we ought to read — 'all- cbeyed breath.' — Craik {^Note on * a labouring day,' Jul. Cas, I, i, 4) : An expressicm used by Cowper (in his verses composed in the name of Alexander Selkirk), 'the sound of the church-going bell ' has been passionately reprobated by Wordsworth. ' The epithet church-going applied to a bell,' observes the critic (in an Appendix upon the subject of Poetic Diction) ^ * and that by so chaste a writer as Cowper, is an instance of the strange abuses which poets have introduced into their language, till they and their readers take them as matters of course, if they do not single them out expressly as matters of admiration.' A church-going dell is merely a bell for church- going; and the expression is constructed on the same principle with a thousand otheis that are and always have been in familiar use ; — such as a marauding or a nght-seeing expedition, a banking or a house-building speculation, a fox-hunting country, a lending library, a fishing village, etc. What would Wordsworth have said to such a daring and extreme employment of the same form as we have in Shake- speare, where he makes Cleopatra say, speaking of the victorious Caesar, — * From his all-obeying breath I hear The doom of Egypt ? ' But these audacities of language are of the very soul of poetry.
96, 98. Wisedome and Fortune . . . may shake it] That is, if, when wisdom and chance are opposed, the former ventures to exercise all its power, no mischance can thwart it.
98. Giue me grace] Johnson : Grant me the favour.
ICO. Your Caesars Father] Julius Caesar was the grand-uncle of OcUvius. See note on the relationship, III, vi, 7.
loi. taking kingdomes in] Compare, <Take in that Kingdome, and Infranchise that,'— I, i, 35, or « He could so quickly cut the Ionian Sea And take in Troinc* — III, vii, 28.
ACT III. sc. xiii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA
247
Enter Anthony and Enobarbus.
Ant. Fauours? By loue that thunders. What art thou
Thid. One that but performes (Fellow?
The bidding of the fuUeft man, and worthieft To haue command obey'd.
Eno. You will be whipt.
-^/z/.Approch there : ah you Kite.Now Gods & diuels Authority melts from me of late. When I cried hoa, Like Boyes vnto a muffe, Kings would ftart forth, And cry, your will. Haue you no eares ? I am Anthony yet. Take hence this lack, and whip him.
Enter a Seruant.
Eno. 'Tis better playing with a Lions whelpe,
lOS
no
IIS
Scene X. Pope, Warb. Johns. Scene XI. Han. Scene continued, Theob. Cap. et seq.
105. [Seeing Thidias kiss her hand. Rowe.
105. Fauours ?"]¥(. Favours / Kovre, + . Favours J Cap. et seq.
105, 106. Fauours ^...{FfUowFI "Lines end, thunders, ... Fellow? F^, Rowe et seq.
109. whipt '\ Ff. whipfd Rowe. [Aside. Cap. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam.
1 10. there .*] there — Rowe, + . there ! Var.»73.
ah'\ ay, Steev. Varr. Knt, Coll. Dyce, Wh. i, Hal.
KUe.'\ Kite f Rowe et seq. Now...diuels'\ Separate line, F^.
111-114. Authority ... him,'\ Lines end, I.., would.., ears f ,,, him, Han.
III. me of UUe, IVhen"} Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. me of late : when Cap. me. Of late y when Johns, et cet.
hoa^ ho ! Cap.
113, 114. And cry,,, I am^ Ff, Rowe, + , Knt, Sta. Cam. Separate line. Cap. et cet.
113. your will.'} your will? Pope et seq. As a quotation, Han. Johns, et seq.
114. I am"] Pm Pope, + .
115. Enter...] Enter Attendants. Cap. (after line 113).
116. 1 17. ' Tis ... dying\ Aside. Cap. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam.
105. Fauours ?] Can any sufHcing reason be given why the astonished interro- gation of the Folio should be deserted, as it is, by all editors since Capell ? — Ed.
107. the fullest man] Enobarbus also has already (line 40) spoken of *• the full Caesar,' i, e. the complete, in every way endowed.
no. ah you Kite] <What beast was \ that made' Steevens substitute ay for this threatening * ah * ? — Ed.
112. a musse] ' F&re alia gr&ppa piii, to play at musse, to shuffle and scramble for.* — Florio ; New World of Words. — * Groie : f. A great quantitie, or number of stirring, or stirred things ; whence ; A lagroie. The bo3rish scrambling for nuts, etc.; cast on the ground ; a Musse. ' — Cotgrave.
114. this lack] Schmidt (Lex,) supplies many examples of the use of 'Jack' as < a term of contempt for saucy and paltry, or silly fellows.'
114. and whip him] Knight (Supp. Notice, p. 358) : This is partly jealousy: partly the last assertion of small power by one accustomed to unlimited command.
248 THE TRACE DIE OF [act hi. sc. xiu.
Then with an old one dying. 117
Ant Moone and Starres, Whip him : wer't twenty of the greateft Tributaries That do acknowledge Cce/ary fhould I finde them 120
So fawcy with the hand of (he heere, what's her name Since fhe was Cleopatra? Whip him Fellowes, Till like a Boy you fee him crindge his face, And whine aloud for mercy. Take him hence.
Tfud, Marke Anthony. \ 25
Ant, Tugge him away : being whipt Bring him againe, the lacke of Ccefars fhall Beare vs an arrant to him. Exeunt with Thidius. 128
118. Siarres,"] stars ! Kow^, 122. Cleopatra/*] Cleopatra — Rowe.
119. wer't'\ wert F,. were F^F^, 125. Anthony.] Ff. Antony! Glo. Rowe, Pope. Antony— Rowe et cet.
121. of Jhe'\ of her Han. of — she 127. againe^ again; Theob. et scq.
Coll. Wh. i. (subs.)
121, 122. what's ... Cleopatra/'] In the'\ Ff, Rowe, Knt, Coll. Wh.
parenthesis, Pope, + , Cap. i, Hal. this Pope et cet
121. name'\ name^ Johns, et seq. 128. arrant'\ errand Y^,
119. Whip him] Abbott (§ 499) finds that this line belongs to a class of * appar- ent Alexandrines, which are sometimes regular verses of five accents preceded or followed by a foot, more or less isolated, containing one accent' < Whip him ' is the isolated foot here, as, I suppose, ' what's her name' is the isolated one in line 121. It is the same old story; Anthony, even in the whiff and wind of foaming rage» will pay no attention to his rhythm. ... I now find that Abbott (§ 497) has a differ^ ent scansion for the * apparent Alexandrine ' of line 121. It is to be effected by * the omission of unemphatic syllables,' thus : — * So s&ucy | with the h&nd | of sh6 | here — wh&t's I her name?' — Ed.
121. hand of she heere] 'She' instead of her is used in supreme contempt. Collier's dash before it is, I think, well devised. Hanmer's ^ her here' is to me intolerable.— Ed.
122. Since she was Cleopatra] Abbott (§ 132) : Perhaps the meaning is * Whip him for being saucy with this woman, since (though she is not now worthy of the name) she once was (emphatical) Cleopatra.' Else * What is her new name since she ceased to be Cleopatra ? ' If * since,* in the sense of ago^ could be used absolutely for once, a third interpretation would be possible : * What's her name ? Once she was Cleopatra.'
127. the lacke] Pope changed * the ' to this, and has been followed by a majority of editors. We have already had ' this Jack ' where Tbidias is regarded as simply an offensive menial without any qualification other than the contemptuous 'this.' But here he is ' the Jack of Caesar,' and it is because he is Caesar's Jack that he is to be made a servile messenger. There is enough contempt in the fact that he came as Caesar's ambassador and returns as an errand-bearer. It seems to me that 'the' should be retained. The ictus falls on * Jack.' — Ed.
ACT III. sc. xiii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 249
You were halfe blafted ere I knew you : Ha ?
Haue I my pillow left vnpreft in Rome, 130
Forborne the getting of a lawfuU Race,
And by a lem of women, to be abus'd
By one that lookes on Feeders/
Cleo, Good my Lord.
Ant. You haue beene a boggeler euer, 13S
But when we in our vicioufnefle grow hard (Oh mifery on't) the wife Gods feele our eyes 137
129. Ba r^ Ha f ¥.ovre, 137- /^^^O F,. /eale F,. feal F^,
132. I^m] F^. Jemme F^. Jtm F^, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. seel
Rowe, Pope, Theob. Warb. gem Han. Johns, et seq.
134. Lord.'\ Lord— Rowe et seq. 137, 138. <y«...^ii'/4,] Ff, Rowe, Pope, (sabs.) Theob. Han. Johns, ey es.,. filth ; Qz.^,
135. boggeler] boggier Rowe. Knt eyes: ..filth Warb. et cet (subs.)
136. gronv] grew Ff, Rowe.
133. By one that lookes on Feeders ?] Johnson, by an obliquity that will some- times befall the keenest, supposed that this refers to Thidias, and that Anthony was abused by a man who looked on while others were feeding ; consequently he para- phrased the words by : *■ one that waits at the table while others are eating,' which is true enough if the words are taken literally, but the ' one that looks on ' (that is, looks on with favour) is Cleopatra, and * feeders ' are servants. When Corin offers to establish Rosalind and Celia in their cottage he says, ' I will your very faithfull Feeder be.' — As You Like It, II, iv, 105. — Ed.
135. boggeler] Murray (iV. £. L>.): The verb to boggle is apparently formed on boggle, a variant of Bogle, a spectre (such as horses are reputed to see). In later times there has been a tendency to associate the word with bungle, which appears in sense 4, and in the derivatives, i. intr. To start with fright, to shy as a startled horse, to take alarm, etc. 2. To raise scruples, hesitate, demur, stickle {at, etc.). 3. *To play fast or loose,' — Johnson ; to palter, quibble, equivocate. 4. To fumble, bungle, make a clumsy attempt. [Hence] Boggier is one who boggles, or hesitates ; a stickler [whereof the present line is quoted as an example].
136-139. when . . . errors] That is, when we become hardened in our vicious courses the wise gods so blind us that we lose the power of judging clearly concern- ing our own moral defilement, and end with adoring our very errors. I am haunted with the memory of a sentiment similar to this in the Old Testament, and mention it in the trust that some one may be more fortunate than I in recalling it. We must remember that filth, filthy, etc. are much stronger terms now than in the time of Shakespeare. — Ed.
137. seclc our eyes] Harting (p. 69) : Turbervile, in his Book of Falconrie, 1575, gives the following directions *how to seele a hawke': — 'Take a needle threeded with untwisted thread, and (casting your Hawke) take her by the beake, and put the needle through her eye-lidde, not right against the sight of the eye, but somewhat nearer to the beake, because she may see backwards. And you must take good heede that you hurt not the webbe, which is under the eye-lidde, or on the inside thereof. Then put your needle also through that other eye-lidde, drawing
250 3^^^ TRAGEDIE OF [act hi. sc. xiil
In our owne filth, drop our cleare iudgements, make vs 138
Adore our errors, laugh at's while we ftrut
To our confufion. 140
Cleo. Oh,is*t come to this ?
AnL I found you as a Morfell, cold vpon Dead Cce/ars Trencher : Nay, you were a Fragment Of Gneius PompeyeSy befides what hotter houres Vnregiftred in vulgar Fame, you haue 145
Luxurioufly pickt out. For I am fure. Though you can gueffe what Temperance fhould be, You know not what it is.
Cleo. Wherefore is this ?
AnU To let a Fellow that will take rewards, 1 50
And fay, God quit you, be familiar with
138. drop\ dark Lettsom, Huds. Sta. Glo. Cam. tr t/ Var. '73 et cet. drown Words. 1 44, Gneius] Cneius Ff.
139. tf/*j] FjF^,Rowe, + , Sing. Dyce, Pompeyes] Pompey*sF^. Pom- Sta. Glo. Cam. als F^. at us Cap. et pey Han.
cet. 151. God quit you] As a quotatioiiy
141. wV] Ff, Rowe, + , Cap. Dyce, Han.
the endes of the thread together, tye them over the beake, not with a straight knotte, but cut off the threedes endes neare to the knotte, and twist them together in such sorte, that the eye-liddes may be raysed so upwards, that the Hawke may not see at all, and when the threed shall ware loose or untyed, then the Hawke may see somewhat backwardes, which is the cause that the threed is put nearer to the beake.*
137. our eyes] Surely a debt of gratitude is due to Warburton for his punctuation here, when we find a critic as keen as Walker (Cril. iii, 305) 'imagining,' that Knight was * right' in substantially following the Folio. In the circumstances. Walker naturally found a difficulty in forcing * drop ' to assume the sense of make drop. Whereas, under Warburton* s corrected punctuation, the subject of 'drop* is
* the wise Gods,' just as it is of * make* and * laugh.' — Ed.
142, 143. a Morsel], cold vpon ... a Fragment] Whiter (p. 136) : The rapid imagination of the unwary Poet, even when it is employed on sentiments the most tender and pathetic, is sometimes imperceptibly entangled in a chain of imagery, which is derived from the meanest subjects and the lowest occupations. [Hereupon follow several illustrations of the way in which an image, drawn from the culinary art, influences the train of thought ; as here the word ' morsel ' leads to * fragment.*]
* In old English,* continues Whiter, * " fragments * ' and broken meat were synonymous. In the vulgar translation of the Bible we have, <' and they took up of the broken meat that was left seven baskets." — Mark viii, 8. In other places we ^A fragments used for these broken relicts. *
146. Luxuriously] In Roman Catholic Moral Theology there is no other definitioa oi luxury than 'inordinatus appetitus rei venerese.*
147. Though] Staunton : * Though * carries here the sense of 1/, or even if.
ACT III. sc. xUi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 25 1
My play-fellow, your hand ; this Kingly Seale, 152
And plighter of high hearts. O that I were Vpon the hill of Bafan, to out-roare
The horned Heard, for I haue fauage caufe, 155
And to proclaime it ciuilly, were like A haltered necke, which do's the Hangman thanke, For being yare about him. Is he whipt ?
Enter a Seruant with Thidias,
Ser, Soundly, my Lord. 160
Ant. Cried he? and begg'd a Pardon f
Ser, He did aske fauour.
Ant. If that thy Father Hue, let him repent Thou was't not made his daughter, and be thou forrie To follow Ccefar in his Triumph, fmce 165
Thou haft bin whipt. For following him, henceforth The white hand of a Lady Feauer thee. Shake thou to looke on't. Get thee backe to Ccsfarj Tell him thy entertainment : looke thou fay He makes me angry with him. For he feemes 170
153-158. 0„.hitn\ Om. Gar. 168. Shake thou\ Shake Ff, Rowe,
161. ^eg^'d a'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. Shake thee
begg'd a' Tbeob. Warb. Johns. Glo. Mai. Shake but Coll. MS.
begged he Cap. et cet. Get'\ Go get Rowe, Pope, Tbeob.
166. bin\ been Ff. Han. Warb.
whipt. For.., him ^'\ whipped, for 170. makes\ make Vioyt^ W,
...him, Rowe et seq. (subs.)
152. this Kingly Scale] Collier (ed. ii) : The MS converts *this* mio that; the use of' this' would almost imply that Antony had seized Cleopatra's hand.
154, 155. the hill of Basan, to out-roare The homed Heard] Cruden's Con- cordance gives the following references, where mention is made of the high hill of Bashan and of its bulls: — Psalms^ xxii, 12; Ixviii, 15; Ezekiei, xxxix, 18; AmoSy iv, I. By way of excuse for these quotations from the Old Testament in the mouth of Anthony, Singer suggests that * probably Antony caught them from his friend Herod, or picked them up when he was at Jerusalem with Qeopatra, as he once was.'
158. yare] That is, adroit, quick. See Shakespeare, passim.
167. The white hand] Can it be that it is an unsavory commentary on the personal cleanliness of the ladies of his time that Shakespeare lays so much stress, as some- thing distinctive, on the ' white hands ' of his heroines ? Rosaline has a * white hand; ' so has Rosalind, also Olivia; the Duke of Orleans in Henry the Fifth swears by his 'lady's white hand.' Hermione's hand was white, so also Helen of Troy's, hers was 'marvelous white' ; the hand of Lucrece was a 'perfect white,' and here in the present line, by implication, Cleopatra has a 'white hand.' The respective references may be found in Banlett's Concordance. — EiD.
167. Feauer] Used causatively.
252 THE TRACED IE OF [act ill, sc. xiu.
Proud and difdainfull, harping on what I am, 171
Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry,
And at this time moft eafie 'tis to doo't :
When my good Starres, that were my former guides
Haue empty left their Orbes, and (hot their Fires 175
Into th'Abifme of hell. If he miflike,
My fpeech, and what is done, tell him he has
HiparchuSy my enfranched Bondman, whom
He may at pleafure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he fhall like to quit me. Vrge it thou : 180
Hence with thy ftripes, be gone. Exit Thid.
Cleo, Haue you done yet ?
Ant. Alacke our Terrene Moone is now Eclipft, 183
173. doo't:'\ doot: F,. doU: F F^, Ran. Steev. Varr. Sing. Rowe, + . ddt^ Johns. Coll. Dyce, Glo. 178. enfranched^ Ff, Rowe, Pope,
Cam. Sta. Glo. Cam. Hal. enfranchid Dyce.
175. Jhot^Jhut FjF^. enfranchised Thcob. et cet.
176. th'Abifme'] the Abifme Ff et 183-185. AlackcJimef] Lines end, scq. moon.., alone., Mme f Cap. Var. '78 et
177. done^'\ done; Cap. Varr. Mai. seq.
175. Orbes] This is not used for orbity as has been stated, but refers to the nine concentric crystalline spheres, in which, according to the Ptolomaic system, the seren planets (of which the sun is one), the fixed stars, and the Primum Mobile mored about the earth. What the Primum Mobile is, is a little vague, beyond the belief that it moved and controlled the rest. Anthony's * good stars ' were probably in the eighth Orb of fixed stars ; they were hardly likely to be in any of the planetary Orbs. It is to this Ptolomaic theory that Cleopatra refers when she says * Oh Sunne Borne the great Sphere thou mou'st in,* — IV, xv, 16, and again * His voyce was propertied As all the tuned Spheres,' — V, ii, 102, in the next line Shakespeare used « Orbc ' for the whole world, as he does in Twelfth Night (and probably elsewhere) where Feste says to Viola : • Foolery sir, does walke about the Orbe like the Sun,' — III, i, 39. Anthony says * shot their Fires,' to which there is a similar expression in Mid. N. Dream^ where Oberon sa)rs, * And certaine starres shot madly from their Spheares.' —II, i, 158.— Ed.
180. to quit me] Johnson : To repay me this insult; to requite me.
183. our Terrene Moone] Capell (i, 42) : This will be understood by most readers, of the moon in the heavens; which, they will think, might be call'd — 'terrene,* as being the earth's attendant, or satellite : But the speaker means it of Cleopatra, who was call'd — the new Isis, and wore often the attires of that goddess; [III, vi, 18] and she, in the Egyptian theology, was the same as the moon. It is to this circumstance, in part, that Cleopatra herself alludes, in these words of hers, * Now the fleeting moon No planet is of mine.* — [V, ii, 291. — ^It is Warburton who says that Cleopatra in the last Act refers to Isis when she si>eaks of the * fleeting moon,' — a thoroughly Warburtonian suggestion; and evidently the source whence
ACT III. sc. xUi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 253
And it portends alone the fall of Anthony.
Cleo, I muft ftay hi s time ? 185
Ant, To flatter Cce/ar, would you mingle eyes With one that tyes his pointsJ
Cleo. Not know me yet ?
Ant. Cold-hearted toward me ?
Cleo. Ah ( Deere ) if I be fo, 190
From my cold heart let Heauen ingender haile^ And poyfon it in the fourfe, and the firfl ftone Drop in my necke : as it determines fo Diflblue my life, the next Caefarian fmile,
Till by degrees the memory of my wombe, 195
Together with my braue Egyptians all, By the difcandering of this pelleted ftorme, 197
185. [to her Women. Cap. 194. lifij"] life; Rowe, Pope, Han.
time /*] F,. time. F^F^ et seq. life ! Theob. et seq.
187. points,"] points ? Rowe et seq. Cafarian fmile"] Ff. Casario
189. me?] me! Theob. +, Var. '73. wwi?^ Rowe, Pope, Theob. Warb. Johns. me — Ktly. Casarion smite Han. et cet.
190. Ah (Deere)] Om. Han. 197. difcandering] Ff, Knt. discat-
192. poyfon it] poison* t Pope, + . tering Rowe, Pope. discandyinglMxx^y^
193. determines fo] determines^ so Theob, et cet. Rowe et seq.
Capell received the idea, which would never else have occurred to his sensible mind. As it is, he yielded, as he says, only * in part' — Ed.]
187. With one that tyes his points] Malone : That is, with a menial atten- dant ' Points ' were laces with metal tags, with which the old trunkhose were £utened. — Da vies (ii, 354) : When Mr Hyde, afterwards Earl of Clarendon, some time before the beginning of the civil wars, waited upon Charles I. at Hampton Coart, the king said to him, * So, Ned Hyde, they say you tie my points 1 '
193. as it determines] M. Mason : That is, as the hailstone dissolves.
194. Dissolue my life] Collier : But for the verse, we might, perhaps, more properly and intelligibly read, «as it dissolves, so determine (or end) my life.' • Determine * and « dissolve ' may, however, be taken as convertible terms.
194. next] In deciding the question of Cleopatra's sincerity or insincerity in this enc, has full weight been given to the pathetic tenderness of this word ?— Ed.
194, the next Caesarian] Steevens: Caesarion was Cleopatra's son by Julius ""•r. — Irving Edition : Cleopatra appears to apply the name to Anton)r*s off- spring as an indirect compliment; as if she had said, this second Caesar's son.— [Or, rather, is it not a wilful and artful oblivion that she had ever had any children of whom Anthony was not the father ?— Ed.]
195. memory of my wombe] Capell (i, 42) : That is, the memorials of my womb, the things by which it will be remember'd, and means — her children.
197. discandering] Thirlby {^Letter to Theobald, 1729,— Nichols, Illust, ii, 228) : Possibly, Shakespeare wrote * discawd^ng. ' Sed nihil statuo. If you please,
254 ^^^ TRACED IE OF [act hi, sc. xiii.
Lye graueleffe, till the Flies and Gnats of Nyle 198
Haue buried them for prey.
Ant. I am fatisfied .* 200
CiBfar fets downe in Alexandria, where I will oppofe his Fate. Our force by Land, Hath Nobly held, our feuer'd Nauie too Haue knit againe, and Fleete, threatning moft Sea-like. 204
198. graueleffe^ Ff, Rowe, Var. '73, 201. in] yore Han.
Coll. Dyce, Wh. Sta. Glo. Cam. Hal. 203. Aeli/,} held; Pope et seq.
graveless ; Pope et cet. our\ and Ff, Rowe.
200. I am] Pm Pope, + , Dyceii, iii. 204. Fleeie] float Rowe,+, Var. '73.
201. fets] sits Johns. Var. *73 et seq. a fleet Coll. MS.
and it be worth while, consider a little of it ; for I have objections against it, and let me know your opinion of it ; and whether Shakespeare ever uses the word discatter, — Theobald : From the corruption [of the Folios] both Dr Thirlby and I saw, we must retrieve the word with which I have reform' d the text . . . The congealing of the water into hail he metaphorically calls candying ; and it is an image he is fond of. So in the next Act of this very play : — • The hearts, ... do discandy, melt their sweets/ etc. — Knight : But how is * discandy ' used in the next Act? * The hearts ... to whom I gave Their wishes, do discandy^ melt their sweets. On blos- soming Caesar.' The expletive melt their sweets gives us the peculiar and most forci- ble meaning in which the word is here used. But the pelleted storm, which makes Qeopatra's brave Egyptians lie graveless, is utterly opposed to the melting into sweetness of the word discandying. See note in The Mer. of Ven. I, iii, upon the passage : ' other ventures he hath squandered abroad.' To squander is to scatter ; and so Dryden uses the word : — * They drive, they squander the huge Belgian fleet' To dis'Scander, we believe then, is to dis squander. . . . We, therefore, without hesi- tation, restore the original * discandering,' in the sense of dis- squandering, — [Dyce gives the reading of the Folios, and then, without quoting Knight's note, adds : ' which Mr Knight " without hesitation restores." * After * restores,* Dyce indulges in a good heartsome exclamation mark, which saves thought and does not spare feelings, — Knight, gentlest of men, whose epitaph Douglas Jerrold said should be * Good Night,* must, sooner or later, have known of this contemptuous treatment of his well- considered opinion; he outlived Dyce. — Ed.]
197. this pelleted storxne] Staunton {Athenaum, 26 April, 1873) * I ^a^c a suspicion that 'pelleted' is wrong, and that Shakespeare wrote, — ^polluted storm.' The hail was to be poisoned^ and kill in melting, not in falling. This, however, may be thought by many to be gilding refined gold. 'Pelleted' affords a good sense, and in any other writer would be received without question.
199. Haue buried them for prey] Deighton : That is, till they have found a grave in the stomachs of the flies and gnats of the Nile. Compare Macbeth^ III, iv, 72, * If charnel-houses and our graves must send Those that we bury back, our monuments {t. e. tombs) Shall be the maws of kites.'
202. I will oppose his Fate] A revelation of the conviction forced on Anthony both by the Soothsayer (II, iii), and by his own experience, that it was Caesar's 'fate* to be Anthcwiy's superior. — Ed.
204. and Fleete] Capell (i, 42) : This implies, a moving with nimbleness, a
ACT III, sc. xiii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 255
Where haft thou bin my heart f Doft thou heare Lady ? 205
If from the Field I fhall retume once more
To kiffe thefe Lips, I will appeare in Blood,
I, and my Sword, will eame our Chronicle,
There's hope in't yet.
Cleo. That's my braue Lord. 210
AnU I will be trebble-fmewed, hearted, breathM,
And fight malicioufly : for when mine houres
Were nice and lucky, men did ranfome liues 213
205. bin\ been Ft Stecv. Varr.
206. yka//'\ should Pope ii, Theob. 209. yef^ Om. Sta.
Warb. Johns. VaiT. Ran. ^w, trebble'/inewed'\ F,Fj. treble-
208. our\ my Ff, Rowe, + , Varr. -finewedY^^ Rowe. treble-sineu^dVo^
209. There* s,.. in' i'\ There is.., in il et seq. Han. Cap. Var. '78, »85, Mai. Ran.
skimming lightly on water ; as in this line of Lodge's, — ' As many frie [1. e. small pike] as Jleele on Ocean's face.' — Euphties' Golden Legacy^ E, 2b,) and is therefore fitter than— 3^<Mz/, a word the moderns have chang'd it to, which carries with it an idea of inaction and stillness. — Bradley i^N. E. D. s. v. Fleet) : i. To float, f c Of a Tessel : To be or get afloat ; to sail.
204. threatning most Sea-like] Thiselton (p. 21) : The Navy is here regarded as partaking of the nature of the Sea, so at home does it appear to be in that element
205. Where hast thou bin my heart ? Dost thou heare Lady ?] To Anthony's first question, which is that of a lover, jealous of every minute passed by his mistress while out of sight, Cleopatra returns no answer. Whereupon follows the second question, which would not have been asked had she not evidently been lost in thought. During her interview with Thidias she had been true to Anthony and had encouraged Caesar's ambassador only that she might discover the full extent of his master's plans. But now this outburst of Anthony's Berserker wrath could not but have its effect on her, and give her food for reflection. When the play opens, the question with her was how she should keep Anthony by her side ; now the question looms up whether or not she should keep by the side of Anthony. Caesar's offer was perilously attrac- tive. Small wonder that she was so abstracted that Anthony had to say, * Dost thou hear. Lady ? * She emerges from this reverie, true to her love, and from this hour her fate and Anthony's were to be the same. — Ed.
207. in Blood] That is, in full vigour, in perfect condition, a phrase derived from the chase. See, if need be, the note (in this edition) on * The Deare was (as you know) sanguis in blood,' — Levis Lab. Lost^ IV, ii, 4. — Ed.
209. There's hope in't yet] For the sake of the metre, Hanmer, with a fol- lowing that is certainly respectable, changed this into the demure and deliberate * There is hope in it yet.' Happily, no editor since Knight's day has thus trans- gressed.— Ed.
211. trebble-sinewed, hearted, breath'd] M alone points out that 'trebble' qualifies both * hearted ' and * breath'd.'
213. Were nice and lucky] Warburton : *Nice,' for delicate, courtlyy flowing
2S6 THE TRACED IE OF [act in. sc. xiiL
Of me for lefts : But now, He fet my teeth,
And fend to darkeneffe all that ftop me. Come, 215
Let's haue one other gawdy night : Call to me
All my fad Captaines, fill our Bowles once more :
Let's mocke the midnight Bell.
Cleo. It is my Birth-day, I had thought t'haue held it poore. But fmce my Lord 220 Is Anthony againe, I will be Cleopatra.
Ant, We will yet do well.
Cleo. Call all his Noble Captaines to my Lord.
Ant, Do fo, wee'l fpeake to them. And to night He force 225
217, 218. Bowles once more: LetW\ 222. WewiUI Ff, Rowe, + , Var. ' 73,
Ff, Knt, Sing. Glo. Cam. Ktly. borwls; Knt, Coll. Sing. Dycc, Wh. Sta. Glo.
once more Lefs Rowe et cet. Cam. Hal. We'll Cap. et cet
220, 221. / ^<x^... Cleopatra] Lines 223. Call ,.. Lord,'\ Call my lord's
end, is.,, Cleopatra Han. noble captains. Words.
220. t'hatie'\ Ff, Rowe, + , Sing. Dyce 224-227. Dofo,,,Queene'\ Lines end, ii, iii, Ktly. to have Cap. et cet. force,,, Queen. Rowe et seq.
221. againe'\ Om. Steev. conj. 224. to them'\ to 'em Han.
in peace. — ^Johnson : * Nice * rather seems to be, just fit for my purpose^ agreeahU to my wish. So we vulgarly say of any thing that is done better than was expected, it is nice, — Stkevens : * Nice ' is trifling. So, in Rom. and Jul, V, ii : * The letter was not nicCy but full of charge.' — M ALONE : Again, in Richard III, : * My lord, this argues conscience in your grace, But the respects thereof are nice and trivial' — Douce (ii, 94) asserts that it is here used *in a sense bordering on that of amorous or wanton' — [Unquestionably, < nice * is used in all these senses and in several others, — the context must decide. It is used here, I think, in any sense other than in Douce's. — Ed.]
216. gawdy night] Bradley (A''. E, D.) defines a * Gaudy-day* as a * day of rejoicing, a festival or gala day ; especially the day on which a college gaudy is held* ; and refers to < Gaudy,' a substantive, which is ' an adaptation from the Latin gaudium, joy.* Hence * gaudy-night.' — Wright (j. v. Gaudy, substantive, 2.) gires an instance of 'gaudy-night' in use at Oxford as late as 1861.
219. It is my Birth-day] See Plutarch, Appendix.
220, 221. I had . . . Cleopatra] Walker {Cril, iii, 306) : Arrange, — ^* I'had thought t' have held it poor ; | But, since my lord is Antony again, | I will be Cleo- patra.'— Corson (p. 308) : There's an unconscious and pathetic if not ludicrous irony in this speech : * since my lord is Antony again,' really means, he has returned to his weak and sensual self ; * I will be Cleopatra,' that is, she will be again the fascinating serpent of old Nile. — [Does it not rather refer to the towering passion into which Anthony had lashed himself, and during which he had assailed Qeopatza with a torrent of vile abuse? — Ed.]
222. We will yet do well] For an analysis of the conditions under which « will,' instead of shall, is used to express simple futurity, see Franz, § 462.
ACT III, sc. xiu.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 257
The Wine peepe through their fcarres. 226
Come on ( my Queene )
There's fap in't yet. The next time I do fight
He make death loue me : for I will contend
Euen with his peftilent Sythe. Exeunt. 230
Eno. Now hee'l out-ftare the Lightning, to be furious Is to be frighted out of feare, and in that moode The Doue will pecke the Eftridge ; and I fee ftill 233
226. fcarrei\ fkarres F,. ning; Rowe ii. Pope, Theob. Hao. Warb.
23a Sythe\ scytht F^. lightning, Johns, et cet
Exeunt.] Exeunt Ant. Qe. Cha. 232. Is to be\ Is to Cap. (G>rrected
In. and Att. Cap. in Errata.)
231-235. Mnemonic, Warb. and'\ Om. Cap. Walker.
231. oui'ftare\ out/lare Daniel. 233. and'\ Chn. Han.
LigAtningf'] Ff, Rowe i. /^At'
230. his pestilent Sythe] Schmidt {L^x.) : * Pestilent sythe ' is here equivalent to the scythe of pestilence, the deaths occasioned by pestilence. — [That is, I will rival the scythe that mows down victims in a pestilence. — Ed.]
230. Exeunt] Vischer (p. 125) : And thus Antony commits the extraordinary blunder of allowing himself to be won over. But how ? It is hardly conceivable that he should have done so, after Geopatra*s baseness in yielding herself to Csesar and in giving his messenger her hand to be kissed. The question arises whether or not an intermediate scene be lost. The conclusion, that this is the case, is almost inevitable. And why does Geopatra here display so little charm ? Did the Poet intend that she should here appear insipid ? — [Never insipid, but dazed, and think- ing very fast. She is at the parting of the ways. — Ed.]
231, 232. Now hee'l . . . moode] Walker {Crit. iii, 306) : Arrange, * Now he'll outstare | The lightning. To be furious, is to be | Affrighted out of fear ; and, in that mood,' etc.
233. Estridge] Douce (i, 435, note on ' estridges,* / Hen, IV: IV, i, 97) : Although it is admitted that the ostrich was occasionally denominated estridge by our old writers, it is by no means certain that this bird is here meant. Throughout the many observations on these diflScult lines, it has been quite overlooked that estridge signifies a goshawk. In this sense the word is used in [the present passage in Ant, Cf* Cleop,"], It would be absurd to talk of a dove pecking an ostrich ; the allusion is to the practice of flying falcons at pigeons. Falconers are often called ostregers and ostringers in the old books of falconry, and elsewhere. Estridge for ostrich or ostridge is a corrupt spelling that crept into our language at the conmiencement of Queen Elizabeth's reign, and it appears that after that period the two words were very often confounded together, and used one for the other. — Madden (p. 155, footnote) : Douce was the first to point out that Shakespeare wrote of the estridge or goshawk, not of the ostrich [in the present passage]. The same idea was present to the mind of Qifford when he thus taunted Richard, Duke of York : * So cowards fight when they can fly no further ; So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons.'— j Hen. VI: I, iv, 40. A dove pecking an ostrich is not a lively image, and I doubt that the idea would have occurred to a commentator, had he been aware that a kind of hawk in
17
258 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act iv, sc. i.
A diminution in our Captaines braine,
Reftores his heart ; when valour prayes in reafoHi 235
It eates the Sword it fights with : I will feeke
Some way to leaue him. Exeunt, 237
\A6lus Quartus. Scene /.]
Enter Ccefar , AgrippUy & Mecenas with his Army,
Ccefar reading a Letter.
Ccef. He calles me Boy, and chides as he had power 3
235. prayes in\ prays in F^. preys on Alexandria. Cap. Rowe et seq. 1-20. Om. Gar.
237. Exeunt] Exit. Rowe. i. Mecenas] Mecaenas F^.
Act IV, Scene i. Rowe. Scene i. Om. with his Army] Officers, and others,
Kemble. attending. Cap. et seq. (subs.) Caesar's Camp. Rowe. Camp before
common use was known as an estridge. — [On the other hand, Bradley (A^. E, Z>.) says that Estrich or estridge^ is a variant of ostrich^ and gives to it no other meaning than the latter word ; the present passage is given as a reference. No such meaning as goshawk is mentioned by him. Every reference that he gives clearly refers to the ostrich, except the present, and two others, of which one is dated 1450, and the second, dated 1649, is doubtful. The derivation which Murray (AT. E, D. ) gives of Ostreger^ Ostringer^ has no reference to Estridges^ but the word comes, con- clusively, from Asturia, in Spain. The image of a dove in its fright pecking at an African ostrich is to me so infinitely absurd that I would welcome any bird or beast that can prove a more rational substitute. The case of the ostrich is by no means improved when the quality is noted for which it is chiefly distinguished in the days of Shakespeare. Some of the examples in the N. E. D. of the use of estridge refer to its plumes, but the majority to a comfortable and enviable digestion, which success- fully copes with nails and horse-shoes. It is hardly too much to say that in any allusion by Shakespeare to an ostrich, an audience of his day would be at once reminded of the bird's voracity, and, consequently, should a dove peck at an ostrich, the allusion would be at once interpreted as referring to a defence, not of cg^ or young, but of nails or horse shoes. After all, the question is of small moment. It is enough that Enobarbus, after his profoundly true saying that * to be furious Is to be frighted out of fear,' — one of those * jewels, five words long,* which sparkle for ever, —draws his illustration from the image of a dove, the type of timidity, which attacks, under the influence of fear, that from which it would otherwise fly in tenor, — this, I prefer to believe, is a hawk, the dove's most terrible foe. — Ed.]
235. in reason] R. G. White (ed. i) : I am not quite sure that the Folio should not here be followed ; — * in * having the sense of upon,
235. 236. when valour . . . fights with] Halliwkll {SeUd, Notes, p. 29) : This passage is thus given in Cotgrave's English Treasury, 1655 : — * When Talour preys on reason, it does eat | The sword it shovld fight with.*
3. as he had] Equivalent to as though ; see Shakespeare, passim.
ACT IV, sc. i.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 259
To beate me out of Egypt My Meffenger
He hath whipt with Rods, dares me to perfonal Combat 5
C(Bfar to Anthony : let the old Ruffian know,
I haue many other wayes to dye : meane time 7
5. C<fmbat,'\ combat f Rowe et seq. Johns. Cap. Ran.
6. Jhunuy"] know Dyce, GIo. Cam. 7. dye .'] die^ Coll Hal. Cam.
7. / haut] He hcUh Han. Upton,
7. I haue many other wayes to dye] Upton (p. 240) : What a reply is this to Antony's challenge ? 'tis acknowledging he should die under the unequal combat But if we read, * He hath many other ways to die ; mean time / laugh at his chal- lenge.' By this reading we have poignancy, and the very repartee of Caesar. — Capell (i, 42) : The Plutarch that Shakespeare dealt with, speaking of Antony's challenge, says, — ' Casar aunswered him, that he had many other wayes to dye then so,' which words are ambiguous, and might be taken wrong by the Poet, and occasion that reply which is in all the editions except the Oxford one [i. e. Hanmer's] : But this is so nnfit a reply to be made by Caesar, that the editor could not but acquiesce in the Oxford correction ; which, besides that it is not violent, gives us the true reply as found in the original. <I' in the next line [see Text, Notes']^ is taken from the same edition : but the line should be further amended by the insertion of another word,— y^i/, between * his ' and * challenge ' ; otherwise the metre will not proceed light — ^Johnson: I think this emendation [He hath"] deserves to be received. — Farmer : Most indisputably this is the sense of Plutarch, and given so in the modem translations, but Shakespeare was misled by the ambiguity of the old one : * Caesar answered him, that he had many other ways to die, than so.' — [Dyce quotes with approval this note of Farmer.] — Maginn (Fraser^s Maga. Sept. 1839, p. 264) ; I am not quite so sure that Shakespeare wrote [this passage] as we have it [Maginn here quotes it, but reads line 9 as * Caesar must kncnv.^^ Taking the repartee liter- ally as it appears in North, Shakespeare's ordinary practice may afford a better read- ing : * Let the old ruffian know | He hath many other ways to die than so. | Mean- time, I laugh at's challenge. Mec, Caesar must know,' | ... Is it any very violent conjecture to imagine that Shakespeare had seized the spirit of Plutarch and had written the exact words of North, without alteration of a letter, except the necessary change of haJh for ha^/, and that some printing or editorial blundering has jumbled the pronouns. The supposition is in complete conformity with Shakespeare's prac- tice, and it removes the metrical difficulty. — [It is patent that North's translation is ambiguous. It makes little difference whether the ambiguity is due to North or to Amyot; there it is in North's text, and Shakespeare accepted the inteipretation which he preferred as most in harmony with his idea of his characters ; I do not sec what right we have to change his words because we happen to think that Caesar is thereby rendered pusilanimous. If Shakespeare represents Caesar as conscious of his inferiority in single combat with Anthony (and he might very well be so, he was much younger and in delicate health), and, therefore, assured that he would fall, was afraid to meet Anthony, have we any right to change Shakespeare's words and remodel his characters? In the original Greek there is no ambiguity :—LX XV. TiiOav ^ *AvT6viof iirtfiiref Katoapa fiovo^ax^ai irpoKoXoiftevo^. * ArroKpiva/ihov d* Ueivov, iroAAac 66ov^ *AvTtjvi<f) napetvai Oavarov^ avfjuppov^aCy etc. Nor is there any ambigu- ity in the Latin version, which, it is said, Amyot followed at times : — « Porro prooo-
26o THE TRACED IE OF [act iv, sc. i.
Laugh at his Challenge. 8
Mece. Cce/ar muft thinke, When one fo great begins to rage, hee's hunted lo
Euen to falling. Giue him no breath, but now Make boote of his diftrafUon : Neuer anger Made good guard for it felfe.
Ccef. Let our beft heads know, That to morrow, the laft of many Battailes 1 5
We meane to fight. Within our Files there are, Of thofe that feru'd Marke Anthony but late, Enough to fetch him in. See it done, And Feaft the Army, we haue (lore to doo% And they haue eam'd the wafte.Poore Anthony. Exeunt 20
8. Laugh... Challenge] I at this chal- (Athen. 26 Apr. 1873.)
lenge laugh ^^2^^. I laugh at his chal- 14. Z^/...^a</j] Separate line, Theob.
lenge Upton, Cap. Ran. et seq.
his] this Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. 15. many] Om. Rowe ii, Pope.
9. muft] needs must Ritson. we must 18. done] be done Pope, + , Cap: Steey. Walker, Huds. must needs Sta. conj. Var. '03, '13, Ktly.
cauit denuo per nuntios Antonius Caesarem, vt solus secum certaret. qui respOdit, Vias Antonio multas patdre interritum.' It is in Amyot that the ambiguity is to be found, and North is exonerated : — ' Et Antonius envoya une austrefois deffier Caesar, et lay presenter le combat d'homme & homme. Csesar luy feit response, qu'il avoit beaucoup d^austres moyens de mourir que celuy-ld* — p. 237, ed. 1784. Dryden follows Shake- speare : Anthony tells Ventidius that Caesar's answer was, ' He had more wa3rs than one to die.* I think there should be, in the present line, a period after ' dye * ; it con- cludes the message. ' Laugh ' is, it seems to me, in the imperative, and the sentence is, in effect, < In the meantime Let's laugh at his challenge.' — Ed.
12. Make boote of] Johnson : That is, take advantage.
14. Let our best beads know, etc.] Theobald : I might very reasonably return Mr Pope one of his own Civilities here, and say, the intermediate Line [namely, * That to-morrow the last of battels,* as Pope has it, omitting the word * many '] is in his Ear a Verse. But I have a better Opinion of his Ear than I have of his Industry^ one of the Qualifications necessary to a good Editor. A small Observation of the Measure, mix*d with a little Diligence in collating, might have Uught him to regulate the Lines, and to have avoided this hobbling, inharmonious, Monster of a Verse.
18. See it done] Dyce (ed. ii) : In all probability, * See it be done. [See Text, Notes,] — Abbott (§ 484) quotes this line as an illustration of his rule that nK>no- syllables containing diphthot^^s and long vowels are often so emphasised as to dis- pense with an unaccented syllable. Accordingly he scans the line thus : Eji6ugh | to ffctch I him in. | Sie \ it d6ne.* — [It is, I think, the necessary pause after a fixll stop that supplies the lacking syllable. And, furthermore, there should be no emphasis on ' See * ; if there be any emphasis in so trivial a command, it lies on •done.* --Ed.]
ACTiv, sc. u.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 26 1
\Scene 11 \
Enter Anthony ^ Cleopatra ^ EnobarbuSy Chamtiany
Iras J AlexaSjWith others.
Ant. He will not fight with me, Domitian ?
Eno. No ?
Ant. Why (hould he not ? 5
Eno. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, He is twenty men to one.
Ant. To morrow Soldier, By Sea and Land He fight : or I will liue,
Or bathe my dying Honor in the blood lO
Shall make it liue againe. Woo't thou fight well,
Eno. He flrike, and cry, Take all. Ant. Well faid, come on : Call forth my Houfhold Seruants, lets to night
Enter 3 or 4 Seruitors. 15
Be bounteous at our Meale. Giue me thy hand,
Scene II. Rowe et seq. 7. He is] H^s Popc,+, Dyce ii, iii.
AlexaDdria. Rowe. Palace in Alex- 11. JVoc^t] ff^»7 Cap.
andria. Theob. well."] well? Rowe ii et seq.
1-58. Om. Gar. 12. Take all] As quotation, Theob.
2. Alexas,] Om. Cap. 14. le/s] lei's FJF^.
3. Domitian/] F,. Domitian. F^F^. 15. Enter...] Glo. Cam. Enter Serv- Dcmitius ? Han. Knt, Ktly. Domitius. ants. Rowe. Enter some Domesticks. Rowe et ceL Cap. After meale^ line 16, Dyce, Sta.
4. Nof] Ff, Rowe, Pope. No. Theob. Glo. Cam.
et seq. 16. bounteous] bountious F .
4. No?] Capell (i, 42): <No.' So is this monosyllable pointed in the three latter modems [Theobald, Hanmer, Warburton], and rightly ; for this sullen affirm- ative negation expresses admirably the state of the speaker's mind at this time.
6. twenty times of better fortune] For other instances of the * transposition of adverbs,' such as * of twenty times better,' see Abbott, § 420, and Shakespeare, passim.
IX. Woo't thou] Abbott (§ 241) : Thou is often omitted after would' st, or per- haps merged, in the form ' woo't,' as ' wilt thou ' becomes wilta. Sometimes thou is inserted [as here]. See IV, xv, 76. — Franz (§ 20 a) : The sporadic forms wot^ wdt^ wodt for wilt^ and wooll for will^ correspond to the Middle English wolt and wol : in the following list [containing the present passage] the / is suppressed, as in the present English would.
12. Take all] Johnson : Let the survivor take all. No composition ; victory or death.
262 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act iv. sc. ii.
Thou haft bin righdy honeft, fo haft thou^ \^
Thou , and thou, and thou : you haue feru'd me well, And Kings haue beene your fellowes.
Cleo. What meanes this ? 20
Eno!Y\s one of thofe odde tricks which forow fiioots Out of the minde.
Ant. And thou art honeft too : I wifli I could be made fo many men,
And all of you clapt vp together, in 25
An Anthony : that I might do you feruice, So good as you haue done.
Omnes. The Gods forbid.
Ant. Well, my good Fellowes, wait on me to night : Scant not my Cups, and make as much of me I 30
As when mine Empire was your Fellow too, And fuffer'd my command.
Cleo. What does he meane ?
Eno. To make his Followers weepe. 34
17. bin] beene Ff. Steev. Varr. Knt, Sing. Ktly.
18. Thou\ And thou Rowe, + , Cap. 21. tricks] freaks YldJi. traits Vfaxb, Varr. Ran. Steev. Varr. Dyce ii, iii. 27. }^ou haue done"] yat^ve d<me me Thou too Anon. ap. Cam. Walker, Huds.
you haue] you've Pope, + , Dyce 28. Omnes.] Ff, Ro we, + . Dom.C«p.
ii, iii. you have all Ktly. All. Glo. Serv. Mai. et cet.
20-22. [Aside. Cap. Dyce, Sta. Glo. 32. fuffer'd] fuffered Ff, Rowe.
Cam. 33, 34. Aside, Cap. Dyce, Sta. Glo.
21. [Aside. Johns. Varr. Mai. Ran. Cam. Ktly.
x8. Thou] Of Rowe, who reads *And thou,* and of those editors who follow him, Knight justly says : < They cannot understand how the pause, which is necessary in addressing various persons, stands in the place of a syllable.' On the other hand, Dyce (ed. ii) dogmatically asserts that Rowe's addition, ^if</ is ' positively required.' By whom? Apparently not by Shakespeare. — Ed.
21. odde tricks] Warburton, to make the metaphor suggested by < shooting' consistent, changed * tricks * to traits^ the French for * arrows, shafts.' — Johnson : I know not what obscurity the editors find in this passage. * Trick ' is here used in the sense in which it is uttered every day by every mouth, elegant and vulgar ; yet Warburton, in his rage of Gallicism, changes it to traits.
27. you haue done] Walker ( Crit, ii, 254) : Does not the sense imperatively require, — < So good as y' have done me V (This instance, indeed, might perhaps be otherwise accounted for ; omissions, at least at the end of the line, are not unfrequent in the latter part of this play. ) — Dyce (ed. ii) quotes the foregoing and asks, ' But is not "me" implied in the old text?' — R. G. White (Studies, p. 371) also quotes Walker's question, and replies, * Not at all. The sense is perfect, like the rhythm, as anyone may see.'
ACT IV, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 263
Ant. Tend me to night ; 35
May be, it is the period of your duty, Haply you fhall not fee me more, or if, A mangled fhadow. Perchance to morrow, YouH ferue another Mafter. I looke on you, As one that takes his leaue. Mine honed Friends, 40
I tume you not away, but like a Mafter Married to your good feruice, ftay till death : Tend me to night two houres, I aske no more. And the Gods yeeld you for't.
Eno, What meane you(Sir) 45
To giue them this difcomfort ? Looke they weepe. And I an Afle, am Onyon-ey'd; for fhame, Transforme vs not to women.
Ant, Ho, ho, ho : 49
36. May\ *May Theob. 38, 55. to morrow] io-morrow Pope. 37» 38- or if. A] Ff. or if, — A Theob. 43. to night] to-night Pope.
Warb. or if You do, a Ktly. 44. yedd] shidd ]ohns.
jl^. Perchance] It may chance Vo^,-\-. 46. they] you ¥ij "Ro^t.
Nay f perchance Steev. conj. 47. Onyon-ey* d;] onion eyd, Johns.
37. or if ] Johnson: *Or if you see me more, you will see me 'a mangled shadow,' only the external form of what I was. — [For instances of the omission of so after 'if,* see Abbott, § 64 ; or Franz, § 297.]
38. Perchance] Capell (i, 43) : This line is not one bit the better, for perfect- ing it by reading — *■ It may chance,' instead of ' Perchance ' : verses wanting measure, — that is, their full measure, — have, upon some occasions, a singular beauty ; that in question is one of them, as being a kind of painting of the disturb' d mind of the per- son it comes from. — [It is well worth while to refer here to North, merely to see how ▼ery closely Shakespeare has followed him throughout this scene.]
44. yeeld you] That is, reward you. See, if needful, * God-eyld vs,* Macbeth (Revised ed.), I, vi, 19 in this edition.
47. On3ron-ey'd] Johnson : I have my eyes as full of tears as if they had been fretted by onions. — [This is the second time that Enobarbus has referred to this effect of onions. See I, ii, 192.]
49. Ho, ho, ho] Murray (N. E. D. s. v. Ho, j^*,) : An exclamation express- ing, according to the intonation, surprise, admiration, exultation (often ironical), tri- umph, taunting. 4. Repeated ho/ ho! or ho! ho! ho! it expresses derision or derisive laughter. As in Puck's call to Demetrius : * Ho, ho, ho ; Coward, why com' St thou not?' — Mid. N. D. Ill, ii, 421.— [Boswell says that this laughter of Anthony, like Cleopatra's * Ha, ha, give me to dnnk mandagora,' — I, v, 4, is hysterical, which, if true (and I doubt hysterics in both cases), gives us no clue as to the tone in which it was uttered. To me, it sounds like an honest laugh, merely somewhat forced, with no tinge of derision in it, — how could there be any derision or con- tempt, when it is followed by, < Grace grow where these drops fall ! ' Under < Ho,
264
THE TR AG ED IE OF
[act nr, sc. iii.
Now the Witch take me, if I meant it thus.
Grace grow where thofe drops fall( my hearty Friends )
You take me in too dolorous a fenfe,
For I fpake to you for your comfort, did defire you
To bume this night with Torches : Kno\y (my hearts)
I hope well of to morrow, and will leade you.
Where rather He expefl viflorious life,
Then death,and Honor. Let^s to Supper, come.
And drowne confideration. Exeunt.
[Scene ///.]
Enter a Company of Soldiours.
1 . Sol. Brother, goodnight : to morrow is the day.
2 . Sol. It will determine one way : Fare you well. Heard you of nothing ftrange about the ftreets.
1 Nothing : what newes ?
2 Belike 'tis but a Rumour, good night to you. I Well fir, good night.
50
55
58
51. fall(my„.Friend5y\ Ff. fall; my „, friends y Rowe ii, Pope, fall! my.,, friatds, Theob. et cet.
52. in too] a too Ft
53. For.„you'\ I speake t*you Pope i. / speak f'you Pope ii. / spake t^you Theob. Han. Warb. Johns. / spake to you Cap. Var. '73, Steev. Var. '03, *I3.
58. End of Act III. Kemble. Scene continued, Rowe, Pope. Scene III. Han. Johns, et seq. Om. Kemble. A Court of Guard befoxe the Palace.
Theob.
1-35. Om. Gar.
1. Enter...] Enter two Soldiers, to their Guard. Cap. Steer, et seq.
2. goodnight] good night Ff, Rowe. good-night Pope.
to morrow] to-morrow Pope.
4. flreets.] streets f Rowe ii et seq.
5-10. Nothing. . .goodnight ] Lines end, rumour y „, Soldiers, ...good night. Steer. Var. '03, '13, Knt, Sing. Ktly.
6. to] Om. Rowe ii.
j^',' Murray gives the definition ' a call to stop, to cease,' etc. (whence our teamster's whoa). Having found certain passages where ho is thus used, Holt White, in the Var. of 1821, gives a long note to prove that this meaning obtains here. — Ed.J
50. the Witch take me] I suppose this means, may the very spirit of sorcery, which alone could so pervert my words, blast me if, etc. — Ed.
51. Grace grow] Steevens : So in Rich. II: * Here did she faU a tear; here in this place I'll set a bank of rue, sour herd of grace.* [Ill, iv, 105.]
53. For I spake to you for, etc.] Walker (Crit. iii, 306) : Rather, ' I spoke t*you for,' etc. — [Theobald's reading, see Text. Notes.]
57. Then death, and Honor] Upton : That is, an honourable death. — [It may be so ; but it is, also, possible to understand the sentence as meaning * I'll expect a victorious life rather than death, and I'll expect honour.' — Ed.]
ACT IV, sc. iii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
265
They meete other Soldiers. 2 Souldiers,haue carefull Watcfl.
1 And you : Goodnight,goodnight
They place themfelues in euery comer of the Stage.
2 Heere we : and if to morrow
Our Nauie thriue^ I haue an abfolute hope Our Landmen will (land vp.
1 'Tis a braue Army, and full of purpofe.
Muficke of the Hoboyes is vnder the Stage.
2 Peace, what noife ?
1 Lift lift.
2 Hearke.
I Muficke i'th'Ayre.
3 Vnder the earth.
4 It fignes well, do's it not ?
8
10
IS
20
22
8. They ...] They meet with ... Ff, Rowe. Enter two other Soldiers. Cap. Mai. et seq.
9. Souldiers'\ Ff. Soldiers Rowe.
10. I And^ 3. S. And Cap. Mai. et scq. (subs.)
you :'\yoUt Rowe ii, Pope, Theob. you, Johns. Coll. Dyce, Glo. Cam.
11. They...] The two first go to their Posts. Cap. Mai. et seq. (subs.)
in] on Johns. Var. '73.
12. 2 Heere\ 4. S. Here Cap. Mai. et leq. (subs.)
we :\ we: [going to theirs] Cap. Mai. et seq. (subs.)
and ifl an if Walker (Cri/. ii,
155)-
14-18. Our Landmen ... liji.'\ Lines
end, army t .,. list ! Steev. Varr. Knt,
Sing. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam.
15. 1 * Tw] 3. S. ' Tis Cap. Mai. et seq. (subs.)
' Tis.„purpofe'\ Lines end, army^ ...purpose Cap. Hal.
16. Hoboyes] hautbo3rs Pope.
17. 2 Peace"] 4. S. Peace Cap. Mai. et seq. (subs.)
19-24. Hearke ... T fay] Lines end, earth...! say ! Dyce, Glo. Cam.
19. [advancing from their Posts. Cap.
20. Vth']ith'Y^^. rM<r Cap. et seq. 20-24. Muficke...meane ?] Lines end,
welly ...mean ? Steev. Var. '03, '13, Knt, Sing. Sta. 22. 4 //] // Ff, Rowe, + .
fignes] F,, Theob. Warb. Johns. finges Fj. ftngs F^, Rowe, Pope, signs Han. Cap. et seq.
16. Musicke ... is vnder the Stage] Steevens : Holinshed, describing a very carious device or spectacle presented before Queen Elizabeth, insists particularly on the secret or mysterious music of some felicitous n3niiphs, 'which,* he adds, 'sure had beene a noble hearing, and the more melodious for the varietie thereof, and bicaose it should come secretlie and strangelie out of the earths — vol. iii, p. 1297. — [It is hardly correct to say that the spectacle was presented before Queen Elizabeth ; in fact the show did not come off at all. Just as the queen was about * to come unto hir coch, . . . there fell such a showre of raine (& in the necke thereof came such a ter- rible thunder) that euerie one of vs were driuen to seeke for couert, insomuch . . . that it was a greater pastime to see vs looke like drowned rats, than to haue beheld the ▼ttermost of the shewes rehearsed.' — Ed.]
22. It signes well] Theobald : That is, is it a good omen ? Does it portend
266 THE TRACE DIE OF [act iv, sc. ir.
3 No. • 23
1 Peace I fay : What (hould this meane ?
2 'Tis the God Hercules^ whom Anthony loued^ 25 Now leaues him.
1 Walke, let's fee if other Watchmen Do heare what we do ?
2 How now Maifters ? Speak together. Otnnes. How now? how now? do you heare this ? 30 I I, is't not ftrange ?
3 Do you heare Mafters ? Do you heare ?
I Follow the noyfe fo farre as we haue quarter. Let's fee how it will giue off.
Otnnes. Content : 'Tis ftrange. Exeunt. 35
\Scene IV\
Enter Anthony and Cleopatraywith others. Ant. EroSy mine Armour Eros. 2
23. 3 NoJ] 2 Sold. No. Rowe, + . 30. how now f „. this ^'^ Separate line,
24. IVhat ,., meane P"] Separate line, Cap. Steev. Varr. Knt, Coll. Djce. Dyce. [several speaking together. Mai.
25. whom Knihouy loued'\ Who loved et seq. (subs.)
^«M<?ify Rowe,-^, Coll. MS, Huds. 31. /,] F,. Om. F^F^, Rowe, + . Ay :
27. Walke,"] Walk; Cap. et seq. (subs.) Cap. et seq.
28-3 1 . Do . . .Jlrange /] Lines end, 34. it will ] * twill Pope, + , Cap. Steer.
How now? ...strange? Steev. Var. '03, Varr. Knt, Sing.
'13, Knt. gi^^] go Cap. conj.
28. [going. Cap. 35. Omnes.] Ff, Rowe,+, Coll. Wh. do?] do. Theob. et seq. All. Glo. Cam. Sold, [several q>eak- [Enter other Soldiers, meeting ing] Mai. et cet. (subs.)
them. Cap. They advance to another Scene III. Pope, Warb. Scene IV.
Post. Mai. et seq. (subs.) Han. Johns, et seq. Om. Kemble.
29. 2 How] I. 2. 3. 4. How Cap. Cleopatra's Palace. Pope.
Speak together.] Om. Mai. I. Enter...] Enter... Charmian, Irms,
30. Omnes.] Sold. Cap. All. Glo. and others, Att. Cap.
well to our General ? — Walker (^Crit. iii, 306) unaccountably prefers sings (see Text. Notes).
25. whom Anthony loued] Capell (i, 43) : The words are right, and should not have been chang'd by the modems into — who lo^d Antony ; for thus the author who fumish'd them, — * they thought that it was the god unto whom Antonius bare singular devotion : * But the Poet has put a wrong god, and perhaps by design ; for Bacchus, the god his author intended, could not stand in his verse along with these words : Hercules, he knew, was honoured by Antony, as well as Bacchus ; and he might think it a matter indifferent, which god these same signs were ascrib'd to : 'tis observable, he speaks only of * musick * ; and has omitted the other signs mentioQ'dt which determine them to have proceeded from Bacchus.
ACT IV, sc. iv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 267
Cleo. Sleepe a little. 3
Ant. NomyChucke. £r^j,come mine Armor ^^j.
Enter Eros, 5
Come good Fellow,put thine Iron on, If Fortune be not ours to day, it is Becaufe we braue her. Come.
Cleo. Nay, He helpe too, Anthony. What's this for ? Ah let be, let be, thou art lO
The Armourer of my heart : Falfe, falfe : This, this, Sooth-law He helpe : Thus it muft bee. 12
5. Enter Eros] ...with Armour. Cap. 10, ii. Ah let be^ ... this^ Ant Ah,
6. good^ my good Kowe, -^ ,Csip. Ktly. /et be^ ... this. Mai. et scq.
thin/] mine Han. Sing. Dyce, Coll. 12. Sooth-law] Ff, Rowe, Pope. Sooth-
ii, iii (MS), Sta. Glo. Cam. Ktly, Wh. ii. -/a, Thcob. Warb. Johns. Sooth, la I
8. [Eros arms him. Cap. Coll. Soothe la. Cap. et cet
9. Anthony.] Oql Han. Johns, et Sooth4aruf ,,, bee.] QX^Xi, Sooth-la^ seq. ...be, Han. Johns, et seq.
la What^s this for?] Continued to [Cleopatra puts the armour on
Qeop. Mai. et seq. Antony. Johns.
ip, II. What's.„this,] Ant What's Thus it muft bee.] Given to An-
...this, Han. Johns. Cap. Varr. thony, Coll. ii, iii (MS).
6. Come good Fellow] Dyce (ed. ii) : That the word which has dropt out of the folio in this line was my (Rowe's addition) is proved by Antony's next speech but one, * Seest thou, my good fellow ? *
6. put thine Iron on] Malone : < Thine iron ' is the iron which thou hast in thy hand, that is, Antony's armour. — Coluer (Notes, etc. p. 498) : Surely 'thine* ought to be as the MS renders it, ' Put mine iron on.' — Anon. {JBlackwood, Oct 1853, p. 468, thus answers Collier) : Not at all ; either word will do ; but < thine ' is more consonant with ordinary usage. A gentleman asks his butler, not ' have you cleaned my plate ? ' but * have you cleaned your plate ? ' meaning my plate of which ycu have the charge. Eros had the charge of Antony's armour. — Dyce (ed. ii) : [•Thine' of the Folio, with Malone' s note,] is an utterly improbable reading and explanation, since just before Antony has twice said * mine armour.' Nor, as the context shows, is Antony here speaking of Eros' s armour, — he afterwards bids Eros 'put on his defences.' — [The reason given by Dyce which renders « thine' 'utterly improbable ' is to me precisely the reason which renders it extremely probable. It would be * damnable iteration ' indeed, to have called out < mine armour ' three times. Is it not universal that an exclamation or a question is varied at the second or third repetition of its substance ? It is, to me, eminently natural that Anthony should have changed his twice-uttered impatient summons, ' mine armour,' into ' thine iron.' If • thine' is to be changed to mine why should not, by Dyce's rule, * iron ' be changed to armour f An adequate reason why • thine' refers to Anthony's armour, and not Eros's, is given, I think, by * Anon.' who, it has been said, was Lettsom. — Ed.]
9-12. Nay, He helpe too, ... it must bee] Hanmer was the first to attempt to disentangle these lines ; this he did so far as to remove * Anthony ' from the end of Cleopatra's speech, and give it to * Ant.' by placing it before the next line, where it
268 THE TRACED IE OF [act iv, sc. iv.
Ant Well, well, we (hall thriue now. 13
Seeft thou my good Fellow. Go,put on thy defences.
Eros. Briefely Sir. i J
Cleo. Is not this buckled well ?
Ant. Rarely, rarely : He that vnbuckles this, till we do pleafe To daft for our Repofe, (hall heare a ftorme. 19
13. Well, well,'] Separate line, Han. 17. Rarefy^'] Oh I rarefy, Han. Cap.
Cap. Var. '78 et scq. Ktly.
13. 14. we Jhall ,„ Fell<no\ One line, 19. dafi]doftYi, </^7 Rowe, Pope. Han. Cap. Var. '78 et seq. doff it Varr. Mai. Ran. daff't Dyce,
14. Fellow,] fellow fThtoh, et seq. Glo. Cam. dojgrt Theob. et cet.
15. Eros.] Eno. F^, Rowe, Pope, heare] bear CoU. ii, iii (MS), Theob. Warb. Johns. Sing.
was almost as ill placed as it was before. Then he gave line 12 : < Sooth-law lie helpe : Thus it must bee * to Cleopatra, whose it has remained ever since. Capxll, in his text, followed Hanmer, but in his Notes (i, 43) he says that he *now thinks' « Antony' is * better placed before «* Ah," and the words *« What's this for? " ghren to Qeopatra, who, in speaking them, takes up some of the armour.* Malx>nb (1790) adopted this suggestion of Capell (without acknowledgement) and his text has been followed ever since. All this is set forth piecemeal in the Text, Notes; but it is satis&ctory to have before the eyes the undissected modem text, as follows :
• Cleop, Nay, 1*11 help too.
What's this for?
Ant, Ah, let be, let be I thou art
The armourer of my heart : — false, false ; this, this.
Cleop, Sooth, la, 1*11 help : Thus it must be.'— Ed.
12. Sooth-law] Earle (§ 197): 'La' is that interjection which in modem English is spelt lo. It was used, in Saxon times, both as an emotional cry and as a sign of the respectful vocative . . . The * la * of Saxon times has none of the indicating or pointing force which lo now has, and which fits it to go so naturally with an adverb of locality, as « Lo here,' or « Lo there.' While lo became the liter- ary form of the word, * la ' has still continued to exist more obscurely, at least down to a recent date, even if it be not still in use. ' La * may be regarded as a sort of feminine to A?. — [Also see Twelfth Night, III, iv, 104; Lov^s Lab. Lost, V, ii, 460; IVint, Tale, II, iii, 64, where the foregoing note substantially appears.]
12. Thus it must bee] Collier (ed. ii) : These words have usually been assigned to Cleopatra, but it appears by the MS that they belong to Antony, who is instructing Cleopatra, and who adds < well, well,' when what he wished has been accomplished by her. — [Cleopatra has made one blunder, and then having adjusted a piece of armour correctly, exclaims exultingly : * Thus it must be I ' — Ed.]
15. Briefely Sir] Johnson : That is, quickly, sir. — [Or does it not mean, *in a minute ' ? or * presently,' as we now use the word ? — Ed.]
19. daft] See Text, Azotes.
19. heare a storme] Coluer (ed. ii) : The MS instructs us to read < bear a
ACT IV, sc iv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 269
Thou fumbled Eros^ and my Queenes a Squire 20
More tight at this, then thou : Difpatch, O Loue, That thou couldft fee my Warres to day, and kneVft The Royall Occupation, thou fhould'ft fee A Workeman in't.
Enter an Armed Soldier. 25
Good morrow to thee, welcome. Thou look'ft like him that knowes a warlike Charge : To bufineffe that we loue, we rife betime. And go too^t with delight.
Soul. A thoufand Sir, early though't be, haue on their 30
Riueted trim, and at the Port expeft you. Showt.
Trumpets Flourijh. Enter Captaines^ and Souldiers.
Alex. The Mome is faire : Good morrow Generall. 34
21. thm thou] Om. Ff, Rowe. '85. Capt. A Dycc.
24. Mf*/] in it Var. '73. 30, 31. ^ thou/and, „you,'] Lines end,
25. Enter...] Enter an Officer, arm'd. 5iV, ... trim^ ... you. Rowe ct scq. Cap. (after line 23.) Enter a Captain 30. though' t] though it Varr. Mai. armed. Dyce. Ran. Steev. Var. '03, ' 13, Sing. Ktly.
29. too't] F,. t€^t FjF^. to it Varr. 31. Showt] Shout within. Cap. Mai. Ran. Steev. Varr. 34. Alex. The] Capt. The Rowtf, + ,
30. Soul. A] I. O. A Cap. Mai. Steev. Varr. Ran. Coll. Sing. Wh. Glo. Cam. Vair. Knt, Sta. (subs. ) Off. A Var. '78, 2. O. The Cap. et cet. (subs.)
ftorm,' in reference to the blows the man must receive who unbuckled the armour until the wearer pleased. — [If the reference be to the blows the foe must receive, which is doubtful, he could quite as well * hear ' them pelting on his armour as bear them. — Ed.]
21. More tight at this] Steevens: 'Tight' is handy, adroit.
25. an Armed Soldier] Dyce : What is said to him by Antony shows that he is not one of the common file. [See Text. Notes,]
28. betime] For the varying use of such adverbs as afierward{s), downward{s)t j0rward{s)f betime(s\ etc., see Franz (§91) where the conclusion is reached that, in colloquial language, the modem tendency is to retain the j, albeit the dropping of die s still continues, especially in the written language. See also § 262. — [With Shake^>eare's printers the two forms seem to be used indifferently ; see ' betimes ' in fine 38. Abbott (§25) does not, as far as I can find, include betime{s) in his list —Ed.]
31. Riueted trim] That is, their equipment or armour which is all riveted. 31. Port] That is, the gate.
34. The Mome is faire, etc.] Capell (i, 44) : This speech, in the folio's, is pre- ceded by the letters — A/ex. meaning — Alexas; in the modems, by — Cdp. mean- ing— captains : The first was set aside by them, and rightly ; for Alexas was other- dispos'd of, as we find in [IV, vi, 16] ; but the actor of that part having nothing
270
THE TRACED IE OF
[act IV, sc iv.
AIL Good morrow Generall.
Ant, ^Tis well blowne Lads. This Morning, like the fpirit of a youth That meanes to be of note, begins betimes. So, fo : Come giue me that, this way, well-fed. Fare thee well Dame, what ere becomes of me, This is a Soldiers kiffe : rebukeable. And worthy (hamefuU checke it were, to (land On more Mechanicke Complement, He leaue thee. Now like a man of Steele, you that will fight. Follow me clofe. He bring you too't : Adieu. Exeunt.
Char, Pleafe you retyre to your Chamber ?
35
40
45
36. Lads\ Lad Ff, Rowe, Pope.
39. Ma/,] Ff, Rowc. that,— Pope, Theob. Warb. Johns, that.— Han. that : Cap. et cet
this way, well-fed, ] what ere be^ conus ofme^ Ff, Rowe. this way — well /aid. Pope et seq. (subs.)
40. becomes^ become F^.
41. [Kisses her. Johns.
42. checke"] cheek Theob. ii, Warb. (Corrected in MS, N, <Sr* Qu, 8 Apr.
'93).
43. Complement^'] compliment: Theob. et seq.
43, 44- Ihee, Now,.. Steele ;\ Ft tJkee, A'ow, ...steel. Rowe, Pope, thee Now, ...steel. Theob. et seq.
45. Exeunt] Exeunt Eros, Antony, Officers, and Alt Cap.
46. you] you, Cap. Var. '78 et seq. retyre] to retire Rowe ii, Theob.
Warb. Var. '73.
Chamber/] chamber. Cap. Coll. Dyce, Wh. Glo. Cam. Hal.
more to do, this character was also perform'd by him ; and the speech that is given to't, intitl'd by the name of that character which he had appear'd in before. — G. Wtlkes (p. 366) : The mom is always fair in Egypt. 1 have been assured by £g3rptians that it never rains above Cairo, on the Nile, and so seldom at Alexandria (say six or seven times a year) that a fair sky is not a matter for remark. Bacon would not have fallen into this mistake.
36. 'Tis well blowne Lads] Delius : This refers to the Flourish of trumpets, which make themselves heard. — [This reference to the Trumpets is followed by Schmidt {Lex. s. v. Blow, vb. 4), by Rolfe, and by Wordsworth; I think rightly. On the other hand Hudson says it refers * to the morning or the day ; the metaphor being implied of night blossoming into day.' Thus also Deightcw: 'That is, in full blossom, i.e. the sun is shining brightly in the sky.' — Ed.]
37. spirit] In the present line, at least. Walker's rule for the monosyllabic pronunciation of * spirit ' does not hold good. See I, ii, 143. — Ed.
39. Come giue me that] Wordsworth : This is addressed to Cleopatra. • That* is another piece of his armour.
39. well-sed] See Schmidt {Lex. s. v. Say, 4, 2) for many instances where this phrase is equivalent to * well done ! '
43. On more Mechanicke Complement] Delius: A 'mechanic compliment' is a style of leave-taking which befits the common people, mechanics, but not a man of steel, a warrior, who parts from his mistress only with a soldier's kiss.
ACT IV. sc. v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
271
Cleo. Lead me : He goes forth gallantly : That he and Ccefar might Determine this great Warre in fingle fight ; Then Anthony ; but now. Well on. Exeunt
47
SO
\Scene V\
Trumpets found.
Enter Anthony ^and Eros .
Eros, The Gods make this a happy day to Anthony.
48,49. might Determine\ Might finish Words.
49. A'*^/] Ff, Rowe, Sing, fight! Pope et cet
50. 7>4^« Anthony; butn<yw,'\ Then Antony — but nam — Rowe et seq. (subs. )
WeUim.'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. u, Warb. Well /— On. Johns. Var. ' 73. well^ on. Theob. i et cet. (subs.)
Scene IV. Pope,Waib. Kemble. Scene V. Han. Johns, et seq.
Scene changes to a Camp. Theob. Under the Walls of Alexandria. An- tony's Camp. Cap.
1. Eros.] Eros; a soldier meeting them. Theob.
2. Eros. The'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope. Off. The Sta. Sold. The Theob. et cet.
49. Determine] Charles Allen gives a valuable chapter wherein many instances gathered of Shakespeare's legal knowledge whereto parallel instances are to be
found in contemporary writers ; from which the conclusion fairly follows that Shake* spcare's legal knowledge, on which much stress has been laid, is not more extraordi- nary than that of his eminent contemporaries. On p. 55 Allen notes that * " Deter- mine*' is twice used by Shakespeare in its legal sense as signifying the end, namely, in Coriolanus (V, iii, 119) : ** I purpose not to wait on fortune till These wars deter- mine." [and in the present passage.] A similar use is found in Jonson's Alchemist: ••For here Determines the indenture tripartite." (V, ii.) Donne also, in Anatomy of the Worldy says : •* Measures of times are all determined." (I, § 40.) '
50. Then Anthony; but now] Kreyssig (ii, 73) : To this woman Anthony gave more than any man should dare to give : his honour. He cannot complain if he is taken at his own valuation. The recollection of the flight of the < doting mal- lard' from the sea-fight, although it cannot morally justify Cleopatra's faithlessness, makes it aesthetically endurable. When she is arming him for his last battle, her determination is already taken. She knows well enough that what must here decide is not the heroic courage of a warrior, but w:ary judgement and essential superiority. But, at that very moment, her fine, aesthetic temperament pays homage to the man who is even in that instant betrayed. — [The Editor begs leave to remark that he is not responsible for the opinions of commentators.]
3. Bros] Theobald : 'Tis evident, as Dr Thirlby likewise conjectured, by what Antony immediately replies, that this line should not be placed to * Eros,* but to the Soldier, who, before the battle of Actium, advised Antony to try his Fate at land. — Capell (i, 44) : [Theobald] should have gone a step further, and have given [to the Soldier the speeches (lines 5 and 10)] which are no less certainly his than that [he has] given : the matter of them shews — that they come from the first speaker, ^d
2/2
THE TRACED IE OF
[act nr, sc. ▼.
Ant. Would thou, & thofe thy fears had once preuaild To make me fight at Land.
Eros. Had'' ft thou done fo, The Kings that haue reuolted, and the Soldier That has this morning left thee, would haue ftill Followed thy heeles.
Ant. Whofe gone this morning ?
Eros. Who? one euer neere thee, call for Enobarbus^ He (hall not heare thee, or from Ccefars Campe, Say I am none of thine.
Ant. What fayeft thou ?
Sold. Sir he is with Ccefar.
Eros. Sir, his Chefts and Treafure he has not with him.
Ant. Is he gone f
Sol. Moft certaine.
Ant. Go EroSy fend his Treafure after, do it, Detaine no iot I charge thee : write to him, (I will fubfcribe) gentle adieu's, and greetings ; Say, that I wifli he neuer finde more caufe To change a Mafter. Oh my Fortunes haue Corrupted honeft men. Difpatch Enobarbus. Exit
5
lO
IS
20
23
5. Eros. Had^'fil Ff,Rowe, + , Varr. Ran. Off. Had'st Sta. SoL HacTst Cap. et cet.
8. Followed '\ Follovfd Pope et seq.
9. Whofe] Who's Ff et seq.
10. Eros. Who /] Ff, Rowe, + , Varr. Ran. Off. Wi^/Sta. Sol. WhofQ^,^, et cet.
tfif^... Enobarbus] Separate line, Pope et seq.
thee^ call] thee. Call Rowe ii et seq. (subs.)
12. I.,, thine] As quotation, Theob. et seq.
13. fayeft] Ff. sa^st Rowe et seq.
14. 15. he is... Treafure] As one line,
Theob. et seq.
17. Sol. Moft] Eros. Most Else.
18. after ^] after; Johns.
20. fubfcribe) gentle] subscribe^ g^ntU Rowe, Johns, sttbscribt gentle Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
23. Difpatch Enobarbus.] Difpatch Eros. F,. Difpatch, Eros. F^F^, Rowe, Wh. i. dispatch my Eros Pope, dis- patcht my Eros. Theob. Han. Warb. Johns. Despatch ! To Enodardtts / Johns. conj. Dispatch. — O Enobarbus I Cap. Eros! dispatch. Ran. Ritson, Steer. Var. *03, '13 (subs.) Dispatch. Eno- barbus ! Var. ' 73 et cet. (subs. ) Domitims Enobarbus ! Anon. ap. Cam.
their style is not unfitting for him ; but most unsuitable to the dependent condition of Eros, the gentleness of his manners, and his extreme love of his master. — [This distribution of speeches by Capell, in lines 5 and 10, was adopted by Malone (1790), and followed by all subsequent editors.]
23. Dispatch Enobarbus] Capell (i, 44) : The pathetick exclamation of Antony, which is fetch' d from the First Folio, is such an improvement of the scene.
IT. sc. ^3 AATHoynr aio} cueofaiila 273
\Scemt VI\
Qgf. Go ibftii 4fFi^^^ 2330 begia the figlit: Our win is Amtkemj be lookc Make it fo kxiovae.
dial tbe ondcm »e lanSr r— ''^^■^■^J^ for tbor *<tig«irt, kt Evds^* cxjUtTd a fiom the secsad. — SiiAiAJb : Hcii Wlace Mypnsc% tbat * Antaar, bcm^ MKMttbei mt tbe news of tbe de«iauB rf Eaobsfbas aerdj icxats his nuDe ib a i»pe<if sorprise.' In taj op-Tkc, Atfonj wxs rtriigf 1 ofih- ta cafcroe die order he hftd mlieadj gHea to Efos. I hsre tbcrfcae iioQowd die Seooad Folia. — RnsoK : It will be evident to anj perKn, vbo rngHBlTT tbe Seooad Folio «i^ aOcntioa «nd cuk dour, that many of die aktxitices bbs have been fuinabed by sohk conected oqpy of tbe Fixst Foiio, or an amboritr of eqnal weigbt, beins snch as no persoa. —irh less ooe lo ^nonnt and capricicas as die EdilDr has been represented, cxMdd have possibly bit npon^widioai that 90ft of inSoBBatioa. Amoeg these valnabieeaKadatkas is the present, which afibids a striking improvcBent bodi of die sense and of the metre, and dionld of ooooe be insened in die text, thus * Eros, ifispatch.* — Kntort : We follow the words of the ordinal, bat not the panctaabon. [The cwiginal] auiy mean dispatch the bosiness of Enocarbus; but it is more probable that Antony^ addressing Eros, says 'dispotdi ' ; and then, thinking of his revolted friend, f«o> nonnces bis name. — R. G. White : Considering the rb3rdim of the Hne, die a|^;>ffv>> priateoess of the command, and the great probability that in the numnscript there stood only E., I have no hesitatioo in adopting [tbe reading of F,.] — [Kntgbt*s note, is to me, tbe most satislactory ; in substance it is ibUowed by Coixnuu Singkr, HrnsoN^ and Deighton. We can hear tbe deep sigh with whidi the name * Enobarbns * is breathed forth. It is Uke OcUvins's < Fbor Anthony ! ' at the dose of tbe first Scene of this Act.— Ed.]
4. Our will is Anthony be tooke aJine] WAEBtniTOS : It is obserrable with what judgment Shakspeare draws tbe character of Octavins. Antony was his hero ; so the other was not to shine : yet being an historical character, there was a necessity to draw him like. Bat tbe ancient historians, his flatterers, had delivered him down so fair, that he seems ready cnt and dried for a hero. Amidst these difficulties Shak- q>eare has extricated himself with great address. He has admitted all those great strokes of his character as he found them, and yet has made him a very nnamiabW character, deceitful, mean-spirited, narrow-minded, proud, and revengefuL
6. I shall] See Abbott ($ 315) for instances of * shall* used for wUL x8
274 ^^^ TRACE DIE OF [act iv.sc.vL
Ca/ar. The time of vniuerfall peace is neere : 7
Proue this a profp'rous day^ the three nook'd world
8. proffrcus\ Ff, Rowe,+, Wh.
three nooJ^d] three-nook'd F^F^ et seq.
7. The time of vniuersall peace is neere] Capsll (i, 44) : The Poet had not this from his Plutarch, but from ecclesiastical histories (probably) or some bible com- mentator : The return of Augustus to Rome was signalized by three triumphs in the course of one month, for victories obtain'd in Dalmatia, at Actiom, and this at Alex- andria : afler which, he shut up the temple of Janus, in token that all wars were over ; an event which those histories dwell upon, as the precursor of Christ's birth, according to prophesy.
8. Proue this] For instances where the inversion of the subject indicates a con- ditional sentence, see Franz, { 487, Annurkung^ 4. c.
8. the three nook'd world] On this puzzling phrase we get but small light from the commentators. It is not difficult to draw an explanation from the < depths of one's consciousness,' as Theobald and Capell seem to have drawn from theirs, and say, with them, that according to primitive geography there were but three countries in the world: Europe, Asia, and Africa, and that these made the ' three angles.' But three angles do not make three nooks ; they may make only two. From Malone to the present day there has been quoted, as parallel to the present passage, the closing lines in Kingjohn^ where the Bastard says, * G>me the three comers of the world in arms. And we shall shock them.' But, even in this passage, what the * three comers ' are, is very doubtful ; it has been even suggested that they may have been the Pope, France, and Spain. Whatever they were, England is supposed to be the fourth comer, which alone, I think, removes the parallelism with < three nook'd.' Again it has been surmised that the present allusion is to the fact that the world had been divided among Caesar, Anthony, and Lepidus. If this be so, it is extremely difficult, to me at least, to imagine why Caesar, Anthony, and Lepidus should be termed ' nooks.' There is, however, one pos- sible source of information, namely, in Shakespeare's supposed familiarity with the Emblem writers. The proofs of this familiarity which Grsbn has gathered on this snb» ject are, when taken singly, of doubtful value, but become respectable by accumulation. On p. 350 of his Shakespeare and the Emblem Writers^ we find the following : * Curious it is to note how slowly the continent which Columbus discovered became fully recog- nised as an integral portion of " the inhabited world." • . . Brucioli's Trattaio delU Sphera, Venice, 1543, ... in dividing the globe into climates, does not take a single instance except from what is named the Old World ; in fact the New World of America is never mentioned. Somewhat later, in 1564, when Sambucus published his Emhiems^ and presented Symbols 0/ the parts of the Inhabited Earthy he gave only three [parts: Europe, Asia, and Africa, as comprising the whole world.] . . . Shakespeare's geog- raphy, however, though at times defective, extended further than its *< symbols" bj Sambucus. He refers to America and the Indies in Com. of Err, III, ii, 131, and to the East and West Indies in The Merry Wives, I, iii, 64. Yet in agreement with the map of Sambucus, [where] the three Capes prominent upon it, are the Gibraltar Rock, the Cape of Good Hope, and that of Malacca, Shakespeare, on other occasions, ignores America and all its western neighbours. At the consultation by Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus about the division of the Roman Empire, Antony, on the exit of Lepidus, asks, '< is it fit, The three-fold world divided, he should stand One
ACT IV, sc. vi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA
275
Shall beare the Oliue freely.
Enter a Meffenger.
Mtf, Anthony is come into the Field.
CtEf, Go charge Agrippa^ Plant thofe that haue reuolted in the Vant, That Anthony may feeme to fpend his Fury Vpon himfelfe.
ID
Exeunt.
15
Enob. Alexas did reuolt, and went to leivry on
1 1. Anthony] Mark Antony Pope, + . is come ... Field '\ Separate line,
Cap. Mai. et seq.
12, 13. Go charge Agrippa, Plani'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope. Go, charge^ Agrippa ; Plani Theob. Han. Warb. Go, charge Agrippa^ P/an/ Johns. Sing. Go, charge Agrippa ; Plant Var. '73, Knt (subs. ) Co^ charge Agrippa, Plant Coll. i, Wh. i, Hal. Go charge Agrippa Plant Dyce, Glo. Cam. Coll. Hi. Go^ charge Agrippa Plani Cap. et cet.
13. Vanti Var. '78, '85. Van Yi et cet
15. Exeunt] Exeunt Caesar and Train. Cap.
16. Alexas ... lewry] Separate line, Steev. Var. '03, '13, Knt, Sing. Coll. ii. Cam. Klly.
did'\ doth Rowe ii, Pope.
reuolt y and went 1 revolt; he went Cap. Ktly ( subs. ) revolt ; and went Var. *73 et seq.
of the three to share it ? *^^-Jul, Cas. IV, i, 12. And again he speaks of the ** three- nook'd world " ' [in the present passage. The wood-cut which Green gives of the map of Sambucus presents only three great nooks in the world, one is formed by the Mediterranean, a second by the Red Sea, and a third is hard to identify, but is possi- bly the Bay of Bengal. According to this small map or Emblem (for the three divisions of the earth are dominated by animals), the world can assuredly be styled ' three nooked.' Whether or not Shakespeare ever saw it is a question which is open to all the doubt that anyone may choose to apply to it. That Shakespeare was, at least, familiar with Emblems has very lately received a conspicuous proof by the dis- covery of a pajrment to him and to Burbadge for designing an impresa for the sixth Earl of Rutland.— Ed.]
9. Shall beare the Oliue freely] Warburton : That is, shall spring up every- where spontaneously and without culture. — M. Mason : To 'bear* does not mean to produce, but to carry ; and the meaning is, that the world shall then enjoy the blcsdngs of peace, of which olive-branches were the emblem. The success of Augustus could not so change the nature of things as to make the olive-tree grow without culture in all climates, but it shut the gates of the temple of Janus. This explanation is supported by the following lines from 2 Hen. IV: IV, iv, 87, where Westmoreland says, * There is not now a rebeVs sword unsheath*d. But peace puts forth her olive every where.'
12, 13. charge Agrippa, Plant] Dyce: The meaning of the passage is obviously • Go and enjoin Agrippa to plant those that,' etc.
13. Vant] Thisklton (p. 22) : As van is derived from the French avant it is unnecessary to expunge the terminal / here. In the Prologue to Tro. 6* Cress., line 27, the same word is spelt * vaimt.'
16. Alexas did reuolt, etc.] Capell (i, 44) : The revolt of Alexas was not nor could not be prior to his going to Herod, — as the reading of all former copies would
2/6 THE TRACED IE OF
Affaires of Anthony^ there did diffwade
Great Herod to incline himf elfe to CtEfar^
And leaue his Mafter Anthony, For this paines^
Cafar hath hang'd him : Candndius and the reft
That fell away, haue entertainment, but
No honourable truft : I haue done ill,
Of which I do accufe my felfe fo forely,
That Lwill ioy no mote.
Enter a Soldier of Cce/ars,
Sol. Enobarbus^ Anthony Hath after thee fent all thy Treafure, with His Bounty ouer-plus. The Meffenger Came on my guard, and at thy Tent is now Vnloading of his Mules.
Eno. I giue it you.
[act IV, sc. vL
17
20
25
30
17. Anthony,] Antony ; Roweet seq. Antonys ; Ktly.
diffwadf^ Ff, Coll. i, Wh. i. per^ swade Rowe et cet (subs.)
19. this'] his Han.
20. Camindius] Canidius Ff et seq.
24. mote] more Ff.
25. of Caefars] Om. Cap.
28. ouer-plus] overplus Steev. el scq.
make it, — for he went to him < on af&irs of Antony/ that is — in Antony's behalf : The passage therefore is wrong, both in one of it's words and the punctuation : it is set to rights by the change that is now made in them, which is small, and in rule. [See Text, Notes.]
16. went to lewry on] Abbott (§ 503, * Apparent Trimeter Couplets*) : *On* may be transposed to the next line ; or, considering the licence attending the use of names and the constant dropping of prefixes, we might perhaps read ' Alixas | did (re)v6lt I .*
16, 17. went to lewry on Affaires] Franz (§ 342) : *On' 'upon,* after verbs of motion or direction, have a causal signification, inasmuch as they introduce the cir> cumstance which is the end and aim of an action. — [Hereupon follow many examples; among them, however, I can find none which is parallel to ' came on my guard,' in line 29, below, where there is a verb of motion, but no causal signification in < on.' —Ed.]
17. there did disswade] Johnson : The old copy has * dissuade,' perhaps rightly. — Malone : It is undoubtedly corrupt. The words in the old translation of Plutarch are : * for where he should have kept Herodes from revolting from him, he persuaded him to tume to Caesar,' etc. — Dyce (ed. ii) : [This quotation from North's trans- lation] distinctly proves * disswade* to be wrong.
21. haue entertainment] That is, they are accepted as soldiers, and have mili- tary pay. See Othello^ III, iii, 294, * Note if your Lady straine his Entertainment,* that is, < see if Desdemona urges the acceptance of Cassio as a soldier.*
29. Came on my guard] See note on < went to lewry on Affiures,* lines 16, 17, above.
ACT IV, sc. vi.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
277
SoL Mocke not EnobarbuSj I tell you true : Bed you faf^t the bringer Out of the hoafty I muft attend mine Office, Or would haue done't my felfe. Your Emperor Continues (till a loue. Exit
Enob. I am alone the Villaine of the earth, And feele I am fo mod. Oh Anthony^ Thou Mine of Bounty, how would'ft thou haue payed My better feruice, when my turpitude Thou doft fo Crowne with Gold. This blowes my hart,
32
35
40
32. Mocke\ Mock me Theob. Han. Warb. Steev. Var. '03, ' 13, Words. / mock Cap.
Enobaibus] Enobarbtu^ for in this Words.
SZ^you/aft^ F,F^. you/aftY^, you safe *t Rowe i. you sec safe Rowe ii, Pope, Cap. you sec safe V Theob. Han. Warb. that you saf^d Stcev. Var. '03, * 13. you safed or saf^d Johns, et
cet. you saw safe Cap. conj.
34. koajl,'] FjF^, Rowe. haoft, F,. host, Johns, hoast : Rowe ii et cet. (subs.)
38. And feele I am fo mo/f] Om. Words.
39. payed 1 Ff. paid Kowe,
41. d/oTves^ bows Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. Cap.
hart^"] heart Ff. heart; Roweet seq.
^^, Best jTOu] Dyce pronounces Strevens's emendation, * Best that 70U,' * most probable.'
37. I am alone the VUlaine] For * alone ' when equivalent to beyond all others^ see Abbott, j 18. For *the* betokening preeminence, see Franz, § 113, or Abbott, { 92.
38. And feele I am so most] M. Mason : That is, and feel I am so, more than any one else thinks it. — Reed : Surely, this explanation cannot be right ' And feel I am so most,' must signify, ' I feel or know it myself, more than any other person can or does feel it.' — Drighton paraphrases it concisely : < And no one could feel it as bitterly as I do.'
41. This blowes my hart] Johnson : This generosity (says Enobarbus) swells ny heart, so that it will quickly break, < if thought break it not, a swifter mean.' — Strevrns : That to * blow ' means to puff or swell, the following instance, in V, ii, 419, of this play, will sufficiently prove : * on her breast There is a vent of Bloud, and something blowne.^ — [This interpretation of * blowe ' seems to me weak, and far frcHn adequate to Enobarbus' s deep emotion. And yet I have none better to offer, except by hermeneutical torture. To give it force, Dr Johnson has to add, ' so that it will quickly break,' but this is wholly his addition, and is not, of necessity, inherent in the simple word * blows.' Unquestionably, Shakespeare frequently uses ' blow ' in the sense of swell, puff' up, etc. ; and there is a passage in Lear which seems strongly to strengthen this sense in the present sentence. It is where Lear says, ' O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!' — (II, iv, 54.) And yet I am not satisfied. The hermeneutical torture, as pedantic schoolmen would say, to which I referred, is based on the right to use any extreme, legitimate interpretation. Now Shakespeare does, once or twice, use ' blow ' in the sense of break, shatter, as the result of an explosion. Hamlet says, * 'tis the sport to have the enginer Hoist with
278
THE TRACED IE OF
[act IV, Sc viL
If fwift thought breake it not : a fwifter meane
Shall out-ftrike thought, but thought will doo't I feele
I fight againft thee : No I will go feeke
Some Ditch, wherein to dye : the foul'ft bed fits
My latter part of life. Exit.
{Scene VII\
Alarum yDrummes and Trumpets. Enter Agrippa, Agrip Retire, we haue engaged our felues too forre : Ccefar himfelfe ha's worke, and our oppreflion
42
45
42. not .'] not^ Rowe et seq. fwifter] /wified Yf^ Rowe.
43. outflrike\ outstrike Steev. et seq. thought^ thought : Rowe et seq. doo't. I feele] F,. do't, I feele F,.
dt^t, I feel F^. dot, I feel, Rowe et seq.
44. thee .•] thee ! Rowe et seq.
No] No, FjF^, Rowe, + . no; Cap. et seq.
45. wherein to] where to Ff. where
I may Rowe, + , Var. '73.
Scene IV. Rowe. Scene VI. Pope,
Warb. Scene VII. Han. Johns, et seq.
Before the Walls of Alexandria.
Rowe. Between the Camps. Field of
Battle. Cap.
2. Agrippa] Agrippa, and his Forces^ Cap.
4. and our oppreffion] our opposition Han.
his own petar ; and 't shall go hard But I will delve one yard below their mines. And blow them at the moon.' I know the phrase here is * blow a/,' which differ- entiates it from < blow/ used absolutely. Yet the drift of the sentence is that < blow ' is here used as a result of a sudden and violent force, and we may well imagine that its effect was shattering. Again, to return to the interpretative torture, at the close of Henry the Eighth, the Porter's Man, speaking of a fellow in the crowd with a fiery nose, sa3rs *he stands there, like a mortar piece, to blow us.' — V, !▼, 48. Wherefore, I should like, on this faint possibility, to found a belief that in < This blows my heart ' there lies in < blows ' a meaning stronger than swells, — one that involves the idea of breaking. It is possibly noteworthy that the punctuation of the Folio after ' heart ' and ' not ' has been uniformly, and perhaps justly, discarded for that of Rowe. Although the punctuation of Shakespeare's compositors is not, in general, of an all-commanding value, yet, in the present instance, it seems to imply that the thought of his turpitude will break his heart, if it be not already broken by swift remorse. — Ed. ]
43. thought] Malone : < Thought,' in this passage, as in many others, signifies melancholy, — [Why not say pensiveness at once? The damning *• thought ' that he, above all others, is the greatest villain on earth, and that no foul ditch is foul enough for him to die in, is, possibly, sufficient, it must be acknowledged, to make a man occasionally, now and then, once in a while, a trifle depressed. The melanchoiy, as Malone would have it, which Enobarbus feels is the very blackest despair. — Ed.]
4. Csesar himselfe ha's worke] Schmidt (Zrx. s,v, 2) : That is, Caesar is in great straits.
ACT IV. sc. vii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 279
Exceeds what weexpe£led. Exit. 5
Alarums. Enter Anthony y and Scarrus wounded.
Scar. O my braue Emperor, this is fought indeed, Had we done fo at firft, we had drouen them home With clowtsabout their heads. Far off. 10
Ant. Thou bleed'ft apace.
Scar. I had a wound heere that was like a T, But now 'tis made an H.
Ant. They do retyre. 14
5. £zit]Om. Roweii. Retreat. Ex- 10. Far off.] F^, Rowe i. Farrc off.
cant Cap. ^a^j* Retreat afar off. Cap. Cam. Om.
9. drouen\ Yi^ Rowe, + , Glo. Cam. Rowc ii ct cet
Ktly. </nV^» Cap. et cet w-i^.hTA.Thou.^Bench'hoUs^Om,
la heads\ head Ff, Rowe. Words.
4. our oppression] Steevens : That is, the force by which we are oppressed or orerpowered.
7. Scarrus] Capell (i, 45) : It is worth remarking, concerning this Scarus, — that his name is of the Poet's invention, and himself a person of his creating : One (he saw) most be had, to be about Antony when deserted by Enobarbus and the rest, and no fit one was presented by story : he therefore had recourse to invention ; and by bringing in his foundling before among Antony's other followers at the battle of Actium, gives his introduction in this scene an easy appearance, and hides it*s necessity. [See Dram, Per5.'\
9. drouen] This form is found in Shakespeare only here.
10. With clowts about their heads] Schmidt {^Lex,) asks whether or not ' clouts ' be here ' equivalent to cuffs/ — a question which surely requires no answer from any English reader. * Qouts ' here are bandages for wounds.
12. that was like a T] Delius : We must suppose that the T was l3ring on its side, H> <ind by one or two more slashes was changed to an H. — [This is certainly ingenious, and the only attempt I have found to explain the conversion of the letter T into a letter H. Staunton {^Athemtumy 26 Apr. 1873), however, gives the true interpretation, namely, that there was no actual conversion of one letter into another; the pun consists in that Scarus had received a T-shaped wound which, * by being undressed and exposed to the air, had begun to pain him.' The noun ache and the letter H were pronounced alike ; see the next note. — Ed.]
13. now 'tis made an H] Steevens (Note on Much Ado, III, iv, 52) : Hey- wood in his Epigrams, 1 566, has one * Of the letter H * (p. Ill, Spenser Soc. Reprint), ' H is worst among letters in the crosse row. For if thou finde him either in thine elbow, In thine arme, or leg, in any degree. In thine head, or teeth, in thy toe or knee, Into what place soever H may pike him. Where euer thou finde ache, thoa shalt not like him.' — [The verb was pronounced ake; the noun aitch, like the letter, or, possibly, aieh. For a fuller discussion of this pronunciation, see, if need be, The Tempest, I, ii, 433 ; Much Ado, III, iv, 52, of this edition. — Ed.]
28o THE TRAGEDIE OF [act it. sa Tm.
Scar. WeeT beat ^em into Bench-holes, I haue ydi 15
Roome for fix fcotches more.
Enter Eros.
Eros. They are beaten Sir, and our aduantage femes For a laire vi<5lory.
Scar. Let vs fcore thdr backes, 20
And fnatch 'em vp, as we take Hares behinde, Tis fport to maul a Runner.
Ant. I will reward thee Once for thy fprightly comfort, and ten-fcdd For thy good valour. Come thee on. 25
Scar. He halt after. Exeunt
[Scene y/IL]
Alamnu Enter Anthony agmu in a March. ScarruSj with others.
Ant. We haue beate him to his Campe : Runne one Before, & let the Queen know of our guefts : to morrow 4
15. 'emi] tkem Ran. tbe walk of Alexaodiim. Vbt.'tS.
Bem^k-ksifs^ Id est, sdbe fuBfl- I. Alaram.] Om. Otp.
1%. Thfrmrr^ TLyrr IV)pe,<f .Dyce x. Scvm] Scuvs FT.
fi, iii. wiA otbcn.] with o&er. F^ aad
15. tkte] rift. HuL 3. 4- <'>..-.As^rr] Ooe Kne, Rove ft
^ Jf^iC^-yi tfwitelt Sterr. Xwob.
Rm, SiBf . Dtcc Sia. Gla Cm. 4. f^^ catt Theob. Has. Waih.
25. tiff] Ob. Hsa €^ Siic ^>r»* <^oQ- n. m <MS}, Wh.
Seme cmtirQra, Rove, ^ . Scok Sbu Gkx Cm. Kthr, HaL VIII, Cifi. H mn:^. HwobL osei. (vitbtevs.)
Gtfes of Aleraadna. C^ Uoder
i& oar •daaatic^ wniea] Capqx (i« 45) : Cxvcvr'd dwn. ax>d ibcr bad arv aa cvfwRanitT of iJmiulm *a fur vkkxy' ; an ofmkta dud Scam asseaAS la. ai»d afiqaanb — Ajuobj, aad orrasinni tbdr exit : As tbcT ai« stC!iLiTt (be ixxt cvileresv asd tlua ai aaodMi p&aoe, sane iaierval mast bt snpfKks^'d lucuma ibr t^m aceiaev diat sboaid be blTd up wixb dnaiibi^fs a&d da- tknn alanmuk
15. Ccofte tbee on] For aacy eraiBpie^ of ^ K&aSbAam «k oC "dtee' for rkdmi^ ftt^ AiOk'tTT, § SIS.
4. ipwsta'] Ttininim^: Xl'bat ''pieSF* vas die Queea to Vaom oC? Aotooj 16 1^^ «P^ «B ibe aM>rc>v ; anc be bad aot jpct said a word oC maicblos ^
ACT IV, sc. viii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 28 1
Before the Sun fhall fee's, wee'l fpill the blood 5
That ha's to day efcapM. I thanke you all,
For doughty handed are you, and haue fought
Not as you feruM the Caufe, but as't had beene
Each mans like mine : you haue fliewne all Heilors.
Enter the Citty, clip your Wiues, your Friends, 10
Tell them your feats, whil'ft they with ioyfuU teares
Wafh the congealement from your wounds, and kiffe
The Honour'd-gafhes whole.
Enter Cleopatra. Giue me thy hand, IS
To this great Faiery, He commend thy a6ls,
5. /r^f] FjF^, Rowe, + , Dyce, Sta. 9. Hwflors.] Hectors, Go, Walker,
Glo. Cam. fees F,. see us Cap. et cet. Huds. as Hectors, Anon. ap. Cam.
7. doughty handed^ doughty- handed 13-15. The,..hand^ One line, Rowe Pope et seq. et seq.
8. the'\ my Han. 13. Honour^ d-gajhes"] honoured gajhes as't'\ as it Varr. Mai. Ran. Sleev. F^ et seq.
Varr. Coll. 14. Cleopatra.] Cleopatra, attended.
9. you.,.all'\ you*ve shewn yourselves Cap.
«//Pope,Theob. Han. Warb. Ktly. you 15. [To Scanis. Rowe el seq.
kave all shewn you Cap. you all have 16-23. Mnemonic, Warb.
shown aU Hectors Nicholson ap. Cam. 16. Faiery] Fairy Johns, et seq.
Alexandria, and treating his officers in the palace. We mast restore, as Mr War* burton likewise prescribes, * our gests,* i.e. res gesta ; oar feats, oar glorious actions. It is a term that frequently occurs in Chaucer ; and, after him, in Spenser ; nor did it cease to be current for some time after our Author's da3rs. — ^Johnson : Antony, after his success, intends to bring his officers to sup with Cleopatra, and orders notice to be given of their guests. — [Collier's MS also gives ^m/j, and for a time received the credit therefor. Whether or not the MS Corrector anticipated Theobald is not here open to question. The credit is to be given to him by whom the emendation was first published. The Text. Notes show how emphatic is the preference of the best editors for Theobald's happy change. — Ed.]
9. 3rou haue shewne all Hedlors] Walker (Crit, iii, 307) : I think, — *you have shown all Hectors. Co.* At any rate, something has dropped out at the end of the line ; as after * haven,* in x, 9 ; after * I dare not,' in xv, 32 ; and after * the round worid,' in V, i, 20. — [Abbott (§ 484) thus scans the line, « Each m&n's | like mi \ne: yo4 | have shiwn | all Hectors.' This is solely for the eye. — Ed.]
10. clip 3rour Wiues, your Friends] To *clip' is embrace.
11. Tell them your feats] The use of < feats' here adds strength to Theobald's conjecture o( gests in line 4 above ; especially if * them ' be emphasised in accordance with the rhythm. There is a repetition with a variation ; * let the Queen know of oar gests and tell your friends, too, of your feats. — Ed.
16. Faiery] Warburton : For inchantress, in which sense it is often used in the
282 THE TRACED IE OF [act iv, sc. viiL
Make her thankes bleffe thee. Oh thou day o'thVorld, 17
Chaine mine arm'd necke, leape thou, Attyre and all Through proofe of Hameffe to my heartland there Ride on the pants triumphing. 20
Cleo. Lord of Lords , Oh infinite Vertue, comm'ft thou fmiling from | The worlds great fnare vncaught
AnL Mine Nightingale, We haue beate them to their Beds. 25
What Gyrle, though gray
17. [To Cleo. Glo. Dyce ii. 24. Mine\ My Ff et seq.
18. ntcke^ neck; Pope et seq. 25. We Aaue] HVve Pope,+, Dyce
19. Aeari] part Ff. U, Ui.
20. pant5\ paints FjF^. 25, 26. We -^-grayl One line, Rowe 23. vneaughl."] uncaught t Rowe ii et et seq.
seq.
old romances. — [Hanmer, Staunton, and seTeral recent editors adopt this mean- ing.]— Capell (i, 45) : Giving her this name as being something more than humanity, and of a middle nature between that and the gods. — Johnson : Mr Upton has well observed that * fairy ' comprises the idea of power and beauty. — DsLius : Cleopatra is a fairy inasmuch as she is the bountiful dispenser of that good fortune which is Seams' s due. [Which seems to be the true interpretation. — Ed.]
18. Chaine mine arm'd necke] Warburton : Alluding to the Gothic custom of men of worship wearing gold chains about the neck. — Edwards (p. 201, after quoting the foregoing note) : Your humble servant, Mr Alderman Antony — Your worship is so fine to day; that I vow I scarce know you. But jroa will hardly thank Mr Warburton, for the honor he does yon. ' Chain my arm*d neck ' means» entwine me, armed as I am, in thy embraces. A chain, which a gallant man would prefer before any gold one.
19. proofe of Hamesse] Steevens : That is, armour of proof.
20. Ride on the pants triumphing] Warburton : Alluding to an Admind ship on the billows after a storm. The metaphor is extremely fine. — Edwakj>s (p. 202, after quoting the foregoing note) : There are some points which our Professed Critic should never touch ; for, whenever he does, he only shews his ignorance about them. He quite mistakes the nature of the < pants * here, as well as the < chain ' above. But why triumphing like an admiral ship after a storm ? I thought Tictories gained, not storms escaped, had been the matter of triumphs ; and, I suppose, other ships dance on the billows, just after the same manner as an Admiral's does.
24. Mine Nightingale] This is an example, even more striking than *yoar reproof '(II, ii, 141), of confusion of sound in the ear of the compositor, who ^led to detect, in the pronunciation of his reader, the difference between < my nightingale' and * mine nightingale.* See also ' Unarme Eros,' IV, xiv, 45 ; and ' mine Nailes,' V, ii, 268; * hither,' III, vi, 14; 'your so,' III, iv, 27, etc.— Ed.
24. Nightingale] Deighton : A compliment to the fascination of her voice.
ACT IV, sc. viu.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 283
Do fomthing mingle with our yonger brown, yet ha we 27
A Braine that nourifhes our Nerues,and can
Get gole for gole of youth. Behold this man,
Commend vnto his Lippes thy fauouring hand, 30
Kiffe it my Warriour : He hath fought to day,
As if a God in hate of Mankinde, had
Deftroyed in fuch a fliape.
Cleo. He giue thee Friend An Armour all of Gold : it was a Kings. 35
AnL He has deferu'd it, were it Carbunkled
27-29. Do.,,man^ Lines end, brown^ 29. goU\ goal Pope.
,,,nerv€Sy ..,man, Johns. Var. '73, Knt, [Pointing to Scams. Coll. '53.
Sing. Ktly. 3a /auouritig] favouring Theob. ct
27. yonger\ younger F^F^. Om. Han. scq.
Cap. StecT. Var. '03/13, Words. 32, 33. Mnemonic, Warb.
ha'\ F.Fj. ha' F^, Rowe, Pope, 33. Deftroyed^ Destroy d Han. Cap.
Theob. Warb. Johns. Knt, Djrce, Wh. et seq. Sta. Glo. Cam. have Han. et cet
27. Do ... ha we] This apparent Alexandrine is pat by Abbott (§ 499) in a class where < sometimes regular verses of Bye accents are preceded or followed by a foot [here ' yet ha' we '], more or less isolated, containing one accent.'
27. with our yonger brown] Stkkvens: As this epithet 'younger,' without improving the idea, spoils the measure, I have not scrupled ... to omit it as an interpolation. — [In general, I, too, have not scrupled to omit all Steevens's notes explanatory of his arbitrary metrical changes ; but the reckless arrogance of the fore- going deserves to be pilloried. And yet, in this instance, Steevens was not the orig- inal offender. — Ed.]
28. A Braine that nourishes our Nerues] Anon. ( The TransailanHc, Nov. 187 1. From St. Paul's Afaga.) : These words may be considered somewhat obscure, bat underneath them lies a vast substratum of meaning. An intellect that never lies fallow, a heart that is never cold, a nervous system that, though never quiet, is never nnstiang.
29. Get gole for gole of youth] Johnson : At all plays of barriers, the bound- ary is called a goat; to win a goat, is to be a superior in a contest of activity. — Dkighton : That is, win as many goals as younger men ; for every goal they get of as, can get one of them; not get the better of youth, but prove their equals. — [For the use of *of,' see, if necessary, II, iii, 30.]
30. sauouring] It is to Theobald's acuteness that we owe the detection of the anbstitution of a long / for /.
32. Mankinde] Rolfe quotes from Schmidt (Lex.) that this word is < accented mostly on the last syllable in Timon of Athens ; on the first in the other plays.*
36. Carbunkled] Again, in Cymbeline, there is a reference to the carbuncles in Phoebus's chariot, where lachimo is making his confession and says that Posthn- mas * stakes this ring ; And would do so, had it been a carbuncle of Phoebus* wheel.' I had hoped that by the reference to this gem, which Golding does not mention
284
THE TRACE DIE OF
[act IV, sc. ix.
Like holy Phcebus Carre. Giue me thy hand,
Through Alexandria make a iolly March,
Beare our hackt Targets, like the men that owe them.
Had our great Pallace the capacity
To Campe this hoaft, we all would fup together.
And drinke Carowfes to the next dayes Fate
Which promifes Royall perill, Trumpetters
With brazen dinne blaft you the Citties eare.
Make mingle with our ratling Tabourines,
That heauen and earth may ftrike their founds together,
Applauding our approach. Exeunt.
[Scene /X.]
Euter a Centeriey and his Company , Enobarbus followes .
Cent. If we be not releeu'd within this houre. We muft retume to'th'Court of Guard : the night Is fhiny, and they fay, we (hall embattaile B}r'th'fecond houre i'th'Morne.
37
40
45
47
5
37. hofy'\ glowing Coll. MS.
41. this\ his Han. ii.
all would'\ would all Theob. ii, Warb. Johns. Van. Ran.
45. with'\ with it Ktly.
47. approach'\ reproach F F^.
Scene V. Rowe. Scene VII. Pope, Warb. Scene VIII. Han. Johns. Scene IX. Cap. et seq.
Caesar's Camp. Rowe. Out-skirts of Caesar* s Camp. Sentinels upon their Posts. Enter Enobarbus. Cap.
1. Centerie,] Century, F^F^.
2. Cent. If'\ Ff, Rowe. 3. S. -5^ Cap.
3. toUh'^ F,. to th' FjF^, Rowe, + , Sing. Wh. to the Cap. et cet.
3,40. Court of Guard'^ court-of-guard Dyce 11, 111.
4. embattaile'^ F,. embattel Rowe, Pope, Han. embattle F^F^ et cet
5. ZryM'] F,. Byth' FjF^, Rowe, + , Wh. By the Cap. et ceL
«V>I»] Ff, Rowe,+. i'the Cap. et seq.
in his translation of Ovid, it could be shown that Shakespeare had quoted from the original. But chrysolites are alone specified by Ovid, Metam. ii, 106-110. —Ed.
39. Beare our hackt Targets, like the men that owe them] Warburton: That is, hacked as much as the men to whom they belong. — Johnson : Wby not rather, * Bear our hackM targets,' with spirit and exultation, such as becomes the brave warriors that oTvn them. — [Warburton*s explanation is, I think, more thoroughly in accordance with Shakespearian construction. — Ed.]
45. Make mingle] Daniel (p. 82) : Read Make V tingle^ — f. e. Make the city's ear tingle with our rattling tambourines.
3. Court of Guard] Steevens : That is, the guard-room, the place where the guard musters.
ACT IV. sc. ix.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 285
I. Watch, This laft day was a fhreVd one too's. 6
Enob. Oh beare me witneffe night
2 What man is this f 8
6. I. Watch. This\ Ff, Rowe. I. S. 7- night. '\ Ff, Rowe. night! Pope,
7:111 Cap. I Sold. STiwVar. '78. Thcob. Warb. Johns, night t Han.
Tliis loft. ., too' 5\ Dividing and end- night , — Cap. Mai. et scq.
ing the line at was, Han. Cap. ct scq. 8. 2 Whafl 2. What F^F^. 2 Watch.
Jkrew'd'\ F,. JhreutdeF . Jhrewd What Rowe. 2.S. What Cap. 2 Sold.
F. ff»/x/Var.'85. Third Sold. /Tw iwicr /
/^T* j] /(^^ J Ff, Rowe, + , Dyce, Wh. What Words.
Sta. Glo. Cam. to us Cap. et cct. 8, 9. What..Mm.] Aside, Cap.
6. a shrew'd one] Craik (p. 141) : Both to shrew and to beshrew are used by our old writers in the sense of to curse, which latter verb, again, also primarily and properly (from the A.S. cursan or cursian) signifies to vex or torment. Now, it is a strong confirmation of the derivation of shrewd from the verb to shrew that we find shrewd and curst applied to the disposition and temper by our old writers in almost, or rather in precisely, the same sense. Shakespeare himself affords us several insUnces. Thus, in Much Ado About Nothing (II, i), Leonato having remarked to Beatrice, * By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get a husband if thou be so shrevtfd of thy tongue,' his brother Antonio adds, assentingly, ' In faith, she's too curst* So, in A Midsummer Night's Dream (III, ii), Helena, declining to reply to a torrent of abuse from Hermia, says, ' I was never curst ; I have no gift at all in shrewishness* And in The Taming of the Shrew (I, ii), first we have Hortensio describing Katharine to his friend Petruchio as * intolerable curst, and shrewd, and froward,' and then we have Katharine, the shrew, repeatedly designated * Katharine the curst.' At the end of the Play she is called ' a curst shrew,' that is, as we might otherwise express it, an ill-tempered shrew. ... As it is in words that ill-temper finds the readiest rind most frequent vent, the terms curst, and shrew, and shrewd, and shrewish are often used with a special reference to the tongue. But sharpness of tongue, again, alwa3rs implies some sharpness of understanding as well as of temper. The terms shrewd and shrewdly, accordingly, have come to convey usually something of both of these qualities, — at one time, perhaps, most of the one, at another of the other. The sort of ability that we call shrewdness never suggests the notion of anything very high : the word has always a touch in it of the sarcastic or disparaging. But, on the other hand, the disparagement which it expresses is never without an admission of some- thing also that is creditable or flattering. Hence it has come to pass that a person does not hesitate to use the terms in question even of himself and his own judg- ments or conjectures. We say, < I shrewdly suspect or guess,' or * I have a shrewd guess, or suspicion,' taking the liberty of thus asserting or assuming our own intel- lectual acumen under cover of the modest confession at the same time of some little ill-nature in the exercise of it. Even when shrewd is used without any personal reference, the sharpness which it implies is generally, if not always, a more or less unpleasant sharpness. *This last day was a shrewd one to us,' says one of the Soldiers of Octavius to his comrade, in [the present passage], after the encounter in which they had been driven back by Antony near Alexandria.
7-9. Oh beare me . . . list him] Walker {Crit. iii, 307) proposes to arrange these two lines as one, wherein I can discover no possible gain, either to eye or ear.
286 THE TRACED IE OF [act iv, sc ix.
1 Stand dofe^and lift him.
Enob. Be witnefle to me ( O thou blefled Moone ) lo
When men reuolted fhall vpon Record Beare hateful! memory : poore Enobarbus did Before thy face repent,
CenL Enobarbus ?
2 Peace : Hearke further. 15 Enob. Oh Soueraigne Miftris of true MelanchoUy,
The poyfonous dampe of night difpunge vpon me,
That Life, a very Rebell to my will.
May hang no longer on me. Throw my heart
Againft the flint and hardnefle of my fault, 20
Which being dried with greefe, will breake to powder,
And finifh all foule thoughts. Oh Anthony^
Nobler then my reuolt is Infamous,
Forgiue me in thine owne particular.
But let the world ranke me in Regifter 25
9. I Stand^^ I. StandY^^. I Walch. 14. Cent] 3. S. Cap.
Stand Rowt, I. S. Stand CsLp, I Sold. 15. 2 /Var^] 3 Watch. Peace Rowe.
Stand Var. '85. 2. S. Peace Cap. 3 Sold. Peace Var. '78.
/^] listen to Han. list to SteeT. /Var/ .*] Separate line, Han. Steer.
Var. *03, * 13, Ktly. et seq.
12. memory •] memory^ Cap. Var. '78 16-19. Mnemonic, Warb.
et seq. 17. di/punge'\ disperge Han.
14, 15. Enobarbus ...further] Aside, 20. fault,'] fauit ; Cap. et seq.
Cap. 22. [Lying down. Coll. ii.
It seems, on the contrary, objectionable, inasmuch as it leaves ' a shrewd one to us,' an isolated line, which certainly requires no such emphasis. — Ed.
16. Oh Soueraigne Mistris, etc.] Capell (i, 45) : To which of the faboloos deities is this prayer of Enobarbus addressed ? It cannot be Night ; for she is destr'd to ' despunge,' or pour down upon him, * the poisonous damp of night : ' it must therefore be Hecate, the Night's companion in dassicks, and in Shakespeare him- self.— [It is strange that Capell did not see that Enobarbus was continuing his address to the moon. — Ed.]
17. dispunge] Steevens : That is, discharge, as a sponge, when squeezed, dis- charges the moisture it had imbibed. So in Hamlet^ * it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again.' [This is the earliest reference given in the N. £. Z>.]
19, etc. Throw my heart, etc.] Johnson : The pathetick of Sbakspeare too often ends in the ridiculous. It is painful to find the gloomy dignity of this noble scene destroyed by the intrusion of a conceit so far-fetched and unafiecting.
24. in thine owne particular] That is, in your own separate personal capacity, or, as Deighton says, as far as you, individually, are concerned. See ' my more par- ticular,' I, iii, 69.
25. Register] That is, in its record, list, catalogue. But Blades, who endeav-
ACT IV, sc ix.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
A Mafler leauer^ and a fugitiue : Oh Anthony ! Oh Anthony \
1 Let's fpeake to him.
Cent. Let's heare him, for the things he fpeakes May conceme Ca/ar,
2 Let's do fo, but he fleepes.
Cent. Swoonds rather, for fo bad a Prayer as his Was neuer yet for fleepe. I Go we to him.
287 26
30
34
26. Mafter leauer\ Majter-Uaver F^ et seq.
27. [Dies. Rowe et seq.
28. I Zrf'j] I Watch. Let^s Rowe. I. S. Let's Cap. i Sold. Let's Var. '78.
28-33. Let's.,.Jleepi\ Aside, Cap.
28. to him\ Separate line, Steev. et seq. (except Cam.)
29, Cent.] 3. S. Cap.
29. Let's Aeare] Nay, let us hear
2g, 3a Let*s,.,Cx{air] Prose, Knt, Sta.
29. Aim] him further Qk^,
31. 2 Let's] 2 Watch. Let's Rowe. 2. S. Lft's Cap. 2 Sold. Let's Var. '78.
32. Cent.] 3. S. Cap.
32. Swoom/s] Srooons Rowe et seq.
32. 33. Swoonds,, Jleepe,] Prose, Knt, Sta.
33. for] 'fore ox fore Coll. ii, iii (MS), Sing. Ktly.
fleepe] sleepingSit^^NiH, '03,' 13.
34. I Go] I Watch. Go Rowe. I. S. Go Cap. I Sold. Go Var. '78.
ours to proTe that Shakespeare had an intimate and special knowledge of Typography, obsenres (p. 53) that * the forme then went to the Press-room, where considerable ingenaity was required to make " register " ; that is, to print one side so exactly upon the other, that when the sheet was held up to the light the lines on each side would exactly back one another. The accuracy of judgement required for this is thus gbmced at [in the present passage].'
27. Oh Anthony I] Hazlitt (p. 102) : The repenUnce of Enobarbus after his treachery to his master is the most affecting part of the play.
32. Swoonds] For the pronunciation, see As You Like It, III, ▼, 19 ; and for tiie spelling, see Wint, Tale^ IV, iv, 17 of this edition.
33. Was neuer yet for sleepe] Coluer {Notes, etc., p. 500) : Instead of «for sleep ' we ought to read ' fore sleep,' or before sleep, and the word is altered in the MS accordingly : the sense is, that so bad a prayer, as Enobaibus had ended with, was never uttered before sleep. — [Singer adopted this emendation without acknowl- edgement, as was his wont in the majority of his notes. Collier (ed. ii) severely taxed him with it. Thereupon, in his Shakespeare Vindicated (p. 295), without mentioning that he had adopted 'fore in his text, Singer remarks that the emendation « seems unnecessary.' Anon. {Blackwood, Oct. 1853, p. 468) had, however, a differ- ent opinion; he observes that 'fore is * entitled to very favourable consideration.*] — Staunton : Another instance, we apprehend, where * for ' is either intended to repre- sent fore, or has been misprinted instead of that word. — [It seems to me that the Soldier would protest too much if he were to say that such a bad prayer had never jet been uttered before going to sleep. Such an assertion was hardly within his knowledge. But he was probably right in saying that so bad a prayer had never yet been said for the purpose of seeking repose in sleep. — Ed.]
288
THE TRACED IE OF
[act IV, sc. ix.
2 Awake fir^awake^ fpeake to vs.
I Heare you fir ?
Cent. The hand of death hath raught him.
Drutnmes afarre off. Hearke the Drummes demurely wake the fleepers :
35
39
35. 2 Awake\ 2 Watch. Awake Rowe. 2. S. Awake Cap. 2 Sold. AwaJie Var.*78. Awake fir f awake,^ Awake^ awake, sir, Steev. Varr.
35-37. awake, fpeake,,. The hand'\ As one line, Cap.
35. [to Eno. Cap.
36. I Heare] I Watch. Hear Rowe. I.S. Hear Cap. i Sold. Hear Var. '78.
Heare you] F,. Hear, you Han. Hear you, F^F^ ct cet.
[shaking him. Cap.
37. Cent.] 3. S. Cap.
*37-4** The. ..out,] Lines end, drums „,htm,,, hour,., out. Mai. et seq.
37. raught] caught F^, Rowe, Pope, Han.
39. Hearke the] Hearke hew the Ff, Rowe, + , Cap. Varr. Ran.
demurely] Din early Han. Do early Coll. ii, iii (MS). Do merrily Dyce conj. Ktly. Clam* rausIySiD%. con]. Do mournfully Cartwright Do rudely Kinnear. Do moHnly B. Nicholson ( withdrawn. ) Do yarely Elxe ap. Cam.
37. raught] The past participle of to reach. See N, E, D, or Franz, { 7.
39. Drummes demurely wake] Warburton : That is, « demurely,* for sol- emnly,— {In the propriety of this definition the Shakespearian world seems to be gradually acquiescing, after a temporary flurry started in 1853 by the publication of the MS emendations in Collier's Second Folio. The change, therein prescribed, from 'demurely* to do early, coupled with Collier's assertion that the adverb ' demurely * ' is surely ill suited to the sound of drums,* seems to have demurely wakened the sleeping critics, always so zealously at hand to help Shakespeare express his thoughts and endow his purposes with words. The Text. Notes show the resolt As none of these emendations has been approved by anybody but the emenders them* selves, it seems needless to rehearse the arguments by which they are maintained. The latest interpretation, fully in accord with Warburton's, is authoritative, and with many critics will close all discussion once and for ever. Dr Murray (A'l E. D. s.v. t b.) thus defines * demurely ' in the present passage : * In a subdued manner.' Why 'demurely* is thus appropriate is set forth by Dr B. Nicholson {Notes 6r* Qu, IV, viii, 41 ) : Caesar, like Antony, would renew the combat, and taking advantage of ' the shining * of the cloudless night, and a precaution from it, ordered the embattl- ing of his forces to begin as early as 2 A.M. It would, therefore, only be in accord with his careful and exact discipline that any notes of preparation should, in pres- ence of a hostile and almost victorious force, be made in a subdued tone. Other- wise the enemy might have unnecessary information and forewarning, or even make such notes of preparation their signal of attack, and come upon him while defiling out of camp and before his line of battle had been taken up. But there is yet another and second meaning which may be given to the word demure. If not now, yet at all events in 1814 the drum-reveilli of the non-Latin races was not a lively, merry, or clamorous din, but a measured and somewhat solemn beat ; and, judging from this and from the discipline of Gustavus Adolphus and other considerations, it seems not unlikely that the drum-reveilI6 of the Low Country, or German Protestant armies of Elizabeth's time, was of the same character, even if it were not founded on
ACT IV. sc. X.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA
289
Let vs beare him to'th'Court of Guard : he is of note; Our houre is fully out.
2 Come on then, he may recouer yet. exeunt
[Scene X.]
Enter Anthony and ScarruSyWith their Army. Ant. Their preparation is to day by Sea, We pleafe them not by Land. Scar. For both , my Lord. Ant. I would the/ld fight i'th'Fire, or i'th'Ayre,
40
42
5
40. Letvs\ Let*s Thcob, + , Cap. Van. Sing.
Let,„he is\ One line, Han. Cap. Var. '78, '85, Ran. 42. then'\ Om. Han.
ke\ perchance he Words. he^.yet'^ Separate line, Han. Cap. et seq. (except Cam. Ktly. )
exeunt] Exeunt with the Body. Cap.
Scene VI. Rowe. Scene VIII. Pope. Scene IX. Han. Johns. Scene X. Cap.
et seq.
Between the two Camps. Rowe. Hills without the City. Cap.
1. Scarrus] Scams Ff.
2. hy Sea^ Yiy Rowe, + . for sea Cap. Ran. by sea ; Var. '73 et cet.
5. iUh'Fire^ M Fire Ff. i*ihe Fire Cap. et seq.
i'ih'Ayre'l iih*Ayre F,. Hh'Aire F. ith'Air F^. in the air Rowe, + , Var. '78, '8$, Mai. Ran. Stecv. Varr. Knt. Vthe air Cap. et cet.
a psalm tune. In one of those inartificial touches of reality and circumstance which give such a charm to the tales of Erckmann and Chatrian, the soldier-conscript of the first Napoleon (IVaterlooy ch. xviii) incidentally tells us — 'Notre diane com- mence toujours aTant celle des Prussiens, des Russes, des Autrichiens, et de tous nos cnnemis; c'est comme le chant de I'alouette au tout petit jour. Les autres, aTec leurs laiges tambours, commencent aprte leurs roulements sourds, qui vous donnent des idies d*enterrement.' (* The others, with their big drums, begin later, and their dall-sounding rolls awake in one the remembrance of a burial.') Now this I take to be a perfect gloss on demurely in the sense of solemnly, as explained by Warburton. Bat the one meaning does not exclude the other, and both would be easily under- stood by an audience, since they were interpreted by actual beat of drum within. This piece of stage arrangement furnishes, moreover, another important argument in their favour. Even an inferior artist would not foolishly mar with the ill accord of a lively raUplan the clase of so touching and effective a scene. Nor could Shake- speare do so ; but he would make use of that which he knew would harmonise with and heighten the feelings he had produced, and the measured, low-toned and far-off beats that demurely woke the sleepers were heard as the knell of one whom the hand of death had already raught, the funeral march for the erring but repentant soldier.
2. to day by Sea] Capell (i, 45) : Instead of for, the modems have— * by' ; taking it from the folio's, whose printers let their eye slip upon * by ' in the next line, and inserted it here : but that for is the true word, is evinc'd (and past doubting of) by Scarus* reply. — [This plausible emendation has not received the attention it deserves. Even Dyce pays no heed to it, and he is the only editor, except Malone and Rann, who appears to have given any attention to Capell's uncouth, yet sen- sible notes. — Ed.]
19
290 THE TRACED IE OF [act iv, sc x.
Wee'ld fight there too. But this it is, our Foote 6
Vpon the hilles adioyning to the Citty
Shall ftay with vs. Order for Sea is giuen,
They haue put forth the Hauen :
Where their appointment we may bell difcouer, lo
6, Mat] tkms Coll. u cooj. LH's seek a ^^ MaL Var.'ai. kaom)
7. kilUi\ A$:is F F^. ColL Sing. Uvm / Usie we iiem Hun-
,, J -^. ^. ..«»
9. Tkey] And they Ktlj. ter cooj. itfVMi... Glo. Ckm. havm,
N^tmen.] Ff, Knt, Su. Jkavem. W^U take mt Omnd Ktly. kmtem
Johns. Var. *73. /^<Rvit .* Further em wummt we tkem Hods, kmven : let m em
Kowe, I\>pe, Theoh. Han. Warb. Ran. Nicholno (apL Cam.) Irving, ktveu,
StceT. Var. *03. *I3. Hal. Hai^em : Hie Te tke kUb ! Amm. ap. Cam. we^mC^^ Ntven^ Var. *7S» '85. kmvem:
9. Ibcth the Hauen] See note on * II7 fbitli of Egypt,' I, ▼, i6l 9, la They have pot forth the Hanen : ^Kfhcfe their, etc] IC Mason : I thiuk Ihe viwdi [« Foither 00 * (see Text. Aetesy[ are ahaoitriy necesaaiy for ike sense. As the passage stands Antony appears to say, * that diey ooahl best discover the appointment oi ihe enemy at the hav«n after &ey had Idt iL* Bnft if «e add the wor\is Fmrtker h^ hb speech wtll he coesisleat : * As dier haw pot oat of the haven« let «$ f«> foithcr on vherr ve may see &em beOer.' And auLmdiiigly in the nrjLl page birt vne he says — ' Where yocder pcne does stand, I shall dimnu alL* — htuONS [tcadug. i*€*i see* a ss^ii after ^ Hanen : *] : The defect of the metre in the old €Vf7 shows tba: sceae wT*is vere acodentaSy omiEted. In &at csopy there is A colon at ^ haven * — aa ^diibooal praor thai w mi rhing mait have been said by Antvv^y^ cvnneicsed vtch c^e next bse« and reiaife^e to the plare vrhere the mf^ht be rtvVttaiNixv^ TSe «trr«« irsr^^nns not snch a pbce ; b^ ra&cr so ftvm whuk'h the hAv«Q and :h!<; sai;.^ aevriy pnc for^ con&i be vimed. What Aatcny snT» «t'vtt ht:^ re^eci^ 7cv«es v^fcfsrvei'v litat he hni net gcae to the hnvcn. nor had anv tV.Hi^be» « fct»^ di*dker. * t see says he*, they hrre rot yet yoioed; bnc m now <<K.v*«f a QMce vvoveoteec sctccn mrar yomfcr poe. and I shaQ d3CO«er aS-' — ICv5ii*tr • T>e seoMoiw.— " CVIee w se* » gtvea They have jnt Seri the haven,' — » 'jns^roch^^KttT. Omrit d:. «*! Aaowrv «t^ ;&ac the x«t scitSea sSoaH sexy wiih ^/». wen tfttr kfiJii ju^^rjim: tfte ;:!br, • WVoee tfeor ^cciacmenfi we m^ hett dit- ^v^tttr. ^ r^ e^b.*r!» a^'ew 'sccibiig :'or Af stgnfii^ cf w«L^ vi?^tv^ «c^ 7aremi^'?<TC?r •*at««a^e» ire -^ ■*» wm t^^r^ntK "f^e ?r^^ ^"^ 'ike e««>rt? aiiu5trtm it J.* r,iei«* ji <^}{Ss^in|; - .V i.-,!HH t^^r^T-^-^.T*. *ml 5??icax spwr?»»e
t^ iff** ^v ^♦iM n.^Ltvr^'ij^it't-mirtTC. TW *»?C WU* "-
f K"*!! Jh V inij*nr»5*af TOO * mt-'^^ riikniims^ T ^tfrmic nir a
the %v€»i ')ii«««» ^t?tc«'Yiini "**«> *'>«^'» sccHiwical!** Trnifre-f edfwr b«
«M ^t*. *,^V'^ rm^\ intentiKt s — .•y'-iwr*f>. ««p. jfht ts nfcctKC ry Ro
Wh^M^cc '!» XtK^rt s> ^iima.^ uni '>v hai T ru'^ >e«t 4Ttni«rf » Try sryii\x ]^ •*:-: %to K*t^^ >' ^tn t> fK* hiinte- — ''^ WW -nutTtinij V Vnauhe *r ar* ^ ■••sac "o s !»v •« e* 'CNh^tm-Mt '>c va i» ittrt' «i»^ ^ ?»i7' iu:*«rtirt^v?inr r»e ric» ;
ACT IV, sc. xi.] ANTHONY ^AND CLEOPATRA 29I
And looke on their endeuour. exeunt 1 1
[Scene X/.]
Enter Ca/vr^and his Army. Caf. But being charged, we will be ftill by Land^ Which as I tak't we fhall, for his beft force Is forth to Man his Gallies. To the Vales, And hold our beft aduantage. exeunt 5
Scene XI. Dycc, SU. Glo. Cam. Scene 3. Which ,„JhaU,'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope,
ootttinned^ Rowe et cet. Which. „shall not Han. Which, as I
Another part of the same. Dyce. takit^ we shall; Theob. et cet.
2. £ut'\ Nat Han. 5. aduantage] advaniage F,.
the first part of Antony's speech that he has not yet gone up the heights. [In his cd. iiy White has Go we up.] — Staunton : We have adopted Knight's suggestion in printing the sentence parenthetically, though there can be little doubt some words after * haven * have been accidentally omitted. Dyce's addition, slightly altered to 'forward then/ strikes us as preferable to any of the others. [It is adopted by Dughton. It is such a passage as this that awakens an unavailing regret that there is no Quarto of this play which haply might Bll this hiatus, valdissime deJUndus. But since there is not, I prefer to have the missing words ' glare by their absence,' nUher than fill the vacancy with any phrase from hands less iiugust than Shake- q>eare*8. This is one of the imperfect lines noted by Walker at IV, viii, 9. — ^Ed.]
10, II. Where their appointment . . . And looke on their endeuour] War- burton : That is, where we may best discover their numbers, and see their motions.
2, But being charg'd, we wiU be still by Land] Warburton : That is, unless we be charged we will remain quiet at land, which quiet I suppose we shall keep. — COLUER : < But ' is still frequently employed in the north of England as a prepo- sition, equivalent to without. Several ancient instances may be found in the Coventry Mysteries, printed by the Shakespeare Society and edited by Halliwell. — Walker (Crii. iii, 307) : That is, Unless we are attacked, we will remain quiet, as far as our land forces are concerned. So construe, in the lines subjoined to Chester's Lau^s Martyr^ — • Hearts remote, yet not asunder : Distance, and no space was seen 'Twixt the turtle and his queen : But in them it were a wonder.' // were a wonder in any but them. Sidney, Arcadia, B. iii, p. 360, 1. 8, — * — they rang a bell, which served to csU certain poor women, which ever lay in cabins not far off, to do the household services of both lodges, and never came to either but being called for.* Two Noble JRtumen, I, i, — * Lend us a knee; But touch the ground for us no longer time,' etc. %,€., ^ do but touch,' *■ only touch.' I notice this, simple as it may appear, because I myself mistook it for a long time. — Abbott (§ 124) : That is, excepting the sup- position of our being charged. [See notes on III, xi, 50.]
292
THE TRACED IE OF
[act IV, sc. xil
\Scene XII\
Alarum afarre offy as at a Sea-fight. Enter Anthony ^ and Scarrus.
Ant. Yet they are not ioyn'd : Where yon'd Pine does ftand, I fhall difcouer all. He bring thee word ftraight, hoVris like to go. exit.
Scar. Swallowes haue built In Cleopatrds Sailes their nefts. The Auguries Say, they know not, they cannot tell, looke grimly, And dare not fpeake their knowledge. Anthony ^ Is valiant, and deiefted, and by ftarts His fretted Fortunes giue him hope and feare Of what he has, and has not.
Enter Anthony.
Ant. All is loft : This fowle Egyptian hath betrayed me :
5
10
IS
Scene XII. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. Scene continued, Rowe et cet.
Another part of the same. Dyce. Hills adjoining Alexandria. Cam.
1. Alarum... fight.] Transposed to line 12, Var. '78 et seq.
2. Scarrus.] Scams. Ff.
3-5. Yet.,.go.'\ Lines end, standy ... word,., go. Cap. et seq.
3. they are\ they're Han. Cap. Var. '78, '85, Ran. Steev. Varr.
4. yon^d'\ yonder Cap. Varr. Ran. Steev. Varr. yond' Mai. Coll. Sing. Wh. Ktly. ^<wf</ Ff et cet
doesftand'\ stands Rowe, + .
5. 'm] F..
7. Cleopatra's] Cleopatraes F^.
Auguries'] Ff, Rowe, Coll. i, Ktly. Augurs Pope, + , Var. '73. Augurers
Cap. et cet 8. not^ ,., telly'] not — .,,telt — Rowe,+. tell^ tell ; Cap. et seq.
1 2. [Shouts afar off. Cap.
Scene VII. Rowe. Scene IX. Pope, Warb. Scene X. Han. Johns. Scene continued. Cap. et cet
13. Enter...] Re-enter... hastily. Cap.
14. All is] Airs Theob. Warb. Johns. Varr.
14, 15. All,., me .*] As one line, Theob. Warb. Johns. Var. '73, Walker.
14. lofi .•] lost / Rowe.
15. fowle] foule F^. foul F^. hath] hath again Kemble. betrayed] betray' d Rowe ii. Pope,
Theob. Warb. Johns. Var. '73, Walker, Hal.
me :] me ! Rowe.
X. Alarum afjarre off, as at a Sea-fight] Since printing the note on III, x, 3, 1 have found that Gifford {Silent Woman^ IV, ii) asserts that fights at sea 'were merely made known to the audience by letting off a cracker behind the scenes.* It would be satisfactory to know his authority. — Ed.
3. Yet] Abbott (§ 76) : That is, up to this time.
7. Sailes^ That is, ships. See Appendix^ Plutarch.
7. Auguries] If it were not for the grim looks, and reluctant speech, it would hardly be worth while to change this to augurers. — Ed.
ACT IV, sc xii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 2gs
My Fleete hath yeelded to the Foe, and yonder i6
They caft their Caps vp, and Carowfe together
Like Friends long loft. Triple-tumM Whore, 'tis thou
Haft fold me to this Nouice, and my heart
Makes onely Warres on thee. Bid them all flye : 20
For when I am reueng'd vpon my Charme,
I haue done all. Bid them all flye, be gone.
Oh Sunne, thy vprife fliall I fee no more,
Fortune, and Antltony part heere, euen heere
Do we ftiake hands.^ All come to this ? The hearts 25
That pannelled me at heeles, to whom I gaue
22. [Exit Scanis. Cap. Mai. et seq. 25. /Ais ?"] this! Rowc, + .
23-28. Mnemonic, Warb. 26. panneiUdI Ff, Rowc. panneWd
24. part h^ere^'\ part here; Cap. et Pope, Var. '73. /« if/Arr'</ Theob. Warb. seq. (except Cam. ) spanieVd Han. et cet.
25. handsl^ Ff. hands — Rowe, + . heeUs'\ Heals l^sy9i^ \, hands. Cap. Mai. et seq.
18. Triple- turn 'd] Johnson : She was first for Antony, then was supposed by him to have turned to Ca?sar, when he found his messenger kissing her hand ; then she turned again to Antony ; and now has turned to Caesar. Shall I mention what has dropped into my imagination, that our author perhaps might have written triple- tcMguedf Double-tongued is a common term of reproach, which rage might improve to tripU'tongued. But the present reading may stand. — M alone : Qeopatra was first the mistress of Julius Caesar, then of Cneius Pompey, and afterwards of Antony. — M. Mason : She first belonged to Julius Caesar, then to Antony, and now, as he snpposes, to Augustus. — Steevens : The sober recollection of a critic should not be expected from a hero who has this moment lost the one half of the world.
21. Charme] Walker (OiV. i, 292, On the substitution of Words): Nine lines below, without any apparent reason for the repetition of the word, — * this grave charm* ; wrong, surely ; perhaps it is the latter ' charm * that is corrupt. * Grave * too looks suspicious.— [Is it worth while to protest against this far-reaching influence of one word on another, at a distance of nine lines ? What limit is to be put to this influence ? * Grave ' may be possibly open to suspicion, although I believe it to be the true word (see note on line 30, below), but I think it was the witchcraft, pure witch- craft of Cleopatra, that dominated Anthony's thoughts. — Ed.]
23. Oh Sunne, thy vprise, etc.] Theobald : Ajax in Sophocles, when he is on the point of killing himself, addresses the sun in a manner not much unlike this, [lines 814-816.]
26. That pannelled me at heeles] Johnson : Hanmer substituted spanieVd by an emendation, with which it was reasonable to expect that even rival com- mentators would be satisfied ; yet Warburton proposes /<j«/'/^r'</, in a note, of which he is not injured by the suppression ; and Upton having in his first edition proposed plausibly enough — * That/<i^</me at heels,' in the second edition retracts his alter- ation, and maintains paneWd to be the right reading, being a metaphor taken, he says, from apannel of wainscot. — Tollet : SpanieVd \s so happy a conjecture, that
294 "^^^ TRACE DIE OF [act nr. sc. riL
Their wifhes, do dif-Candie, melt their fweets 27
37. dif-Candie^ dif^ Candy F,. dis- Theob. i. ^ij^ him^ Theob. ii et seq. -Candy F^F^. dis-candy Rowe, Pope,
I think we ought to acquiesce in it. It is of some weight with me that spaniel often formerly written spannel. Hence there is only the omission of the first letter. — Malone : Spannel for spaniel is yet the inaccurate pronunciation of some persons, above the vulgar in rank, though not in literature. — Collier (ed. ii) : It b rather singular that the MS makes no change.
26, 27. That pannelled me at heeles, to whom I gaue Their wishes, do dis-Candie, melt their sweets, etc.] Whiter (p. 138) : This passage and the succeeding quotations are well worthy of the reader's attention :— * No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee Where thrift may ioWo^ fawning,* — Hamlet ^ III, ii, 55; »Will these moss*d trees, That have outlived the eagle, page thy heelsy And skip where thou point* st out? will the cold brook, Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,* etc. — Timon^ IV, iii, 223 ; ' Why, what a candy deal of courtesy This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!' — / Hen. IV: I, iii, 251. These passages are very singular. The curious reader will observe that the fawning obsequiousness of an animal, or an attendant, is connected with the word candy. The cause of this strange association I am unable to discover ; though the reader must know but little of the human mind — of Shak- speare — or even of the ordinary doctrine of chances^ if he imagines that these matters were in four passages connected by accident. When the reader shall be convinced respecting the truth of this observation ; his curiosity will be much gratified by the following lines from the Tempest; in which he will perceive that the same associ- ation still occupied the mind of the Poet, though a single word only is apparent, which relates to one portion of the preceding metaphor. * Seb. But, for your conscience ? Ant, Ay, sir; where lies that? if 'twere a kibe^ T would put me to my slipper: but I feel not This deity in my bosom : twenty consciences. That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they And melt ere they molest !'— 7>«/«/, II, i, 275. Surely the reader cannot doubt but that the introduction of the word kybe is to be referred to the former expressions, * page thy heels,'—' spaniel* d me at heels,' though it is applied to a very different metaphor. Let me add, that the quaintness of the imagery is an argument for the remoteness of the original. Though I cannot explain to the reader the cause of this association between the term candy and the fawning of a dog ; I can diminish his surprise respecting its existence, by producing another case, which contains a direct union between this animal and an idea equally remote ; and which certainly would have appeared altogether as extraordinary, unless we had possessed a clue to unravel the mystery. What should we say, were we to find in an ancient Greek writer a combination between the fawning of a dog and the cleansing of hands. The union, however, is so intimate, that among the Lacedemonians the name for the substance, which they sometimes used for cleansing of the hands, is derived from the animal.— [Hereupon follows an explanation of this strange association. The subject is not, however, germane to Ant. <&- C/<r^??>.]— Nares (j. v. Discandy) : It is to be wished that soraetliing could be suggested in the place of * spaniePd me at heels,* which might appear to lead to the subsequent idea of discandying. Hearts that spanierd Antony at the heels, melting their sweets upon Coesar, forms a master- piece of incongruity, which, amidst the natural, though rapid transitions of Antony's
ACT IV. sc. xii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 295
On bloffoming Ccefar : And this Pine is barkt, 28
That ouer-top'd them all. Betrayed I am.
Oh this falfe Soule of Egypt ! this graue Charme, 30
29, 30. am, OA] F,Fj, Rowe, + , Coll. 30. graui\ gay Pope, Theob. Han. am On F^. am; O Cap. et cet. (subs.) Warb. great Coll. ii, iii (MS), grand
3a Oh „, Charme\ O this false fowl Sing, brave Dtn conj. of^gyPtl haggard charmer y Bulloch. 30, 32. Charme, ...end,'\ charm, — ...
Soule] speU Coll. ii, iii (MS), Sing. end,--' Var. ' 78, '85, Mai. Ran. snake Walker.
pasaonate state, we should not expect to find. — [Be it borne in mind that Whiter attempts merely to show that in Shakespeare's mind there was, possibly unconsciously, an association of ideas which harmonised what to us seems discordant. Whiter's Commentary had been published nigh thirty years before Nares wrote. — Ed.]
30. Oh this false Soule of Egypt ! this graue Charme] Johnson : By < this grave charm,' is meant, * this sublime, this majestick beauty.* — Capkll (i, 45; whose text reads soil for * Soule ' ) : The former reading was—* Soule ' ; and the sentence, with that word in it, can be understood only of Cleopatra : but they who can but barely imagine — she could be spoke of in so vulgar a phrase, and that by Antony, have not pierc'd very deeply either into him or the poet. The moderns retain the old reading : and, that the finishing part of the line might have no cause to triumph over that it began with, the four last of them alter * grave ' into— ^ay / that is, the most noble and masculine epithet in all Shakespeare, into one the poorest and most unworthy, of him, the speaker, and the occasion, that even study could help them to.
* Grave charm ' is — a charm or enchantment that leads to death or the grave, too truly applicable to the person intended ; and they are the only words in the line that are aim'd directly at her : The other member of it, is, as the reader sees, an* exclam- atory reflection, — growing out of the words that precede it, — on the perfidies of Egyptians in general ; so numerous, and almost continual, that he thinks their soil itself is in fault ; and that they are made the people they are, by some contagion that i^>rings out of that. — Stekvens : I believe * grave charm * means only deadly y or destructive piece of witchcraft. In this sense the epithet * grave ' is often used by Chapman, in his translation of Homer. So, in the 19th book : < but not far hence the fiUal minutes are Of thy ^rav^ ruin.' [lines 394, 395.] Again, in the 22d Odyssey: 'and then flew Minerva, after every dart, and made Some strike the thresliold, some Che walls invade ; Some beate the doores, and all acts rendred vaine Their grave steel offer'd.' [lines 322-326.] It seems to be employed in the sense of the Latin word gravis, — [Collier (ed. ii) pronounces the reading of his MS : * this false spell . . . ^\^ great charm * an * irresistible emendation.']— Staunton : * O this false spell* of Collier's MS is very plausible ; but ^ great charm,' from the same source, is infinitely less expressive and appropriate than * grave charm,' 1. e. pernicious, deadly y fatal sorceress.— Keightley (p. 3x9) : In my edition, yielding to an impulse I could not resist, I have added a final r to * charme ' both here and a few lines before ; thus making it accord with * witch ' and ' gypsy,' as he also calls her. But he likewise terms her 'spell,* and Perdita, Wint. Tale, IV, iii, is called 'enchantment,' both, however, in the vocative. — A. C. Bradley (Quart. Rev.y April, 1906, p. 349) : Why should not ' grave ' have its usual meaning ? Cleopatra, we know, was a being of
* infinite variety,' and her eyes may sometimes have had, like those of some gipsies, a mysterious gravity or solemnity which would exert a spell more potent than her
296 THE TRACE DIE OF [act iv. sc. xiL
Whofe eye beckM forth my Wars, & calM them home : 3 1
Whofe Bofome was my Crownet, my chiefe end,
Like a right Gypfie, hath at faft and loofe
BeguilM me, to the very heart of lofTe.
What Eros y Eros ? 35
Enter Cleopatra. Ah, thou Spell ! Auaunt
Geo. Why is my Lord enraged againft his Loue ?
Ant. Vanifh, or I fhall giue thee thy deferuing, 39
35. Eros /] Eros I Rowe. 39. Vani/k,'\ Ff, Rowe, + , Coll. Dycc,
37. Auaunt^ Avant F^F^, Rowe, + . Wh. Glo. Cam. Vaniih I Sta. Vanish ;
38. Louer] Love; F^. Cap. et cet.
gaiety. Their colour, presumably, was what is called * black * ; but surely they were not, as Tennyson imagined, « bold black eyes.*
32. was my Crownet, my chiefe end] Steevens : Dr Johnson supposes that * crownet* means last purpose y probably from^iiM coronal opus. Chapman, Homery bk, ii, uses crown in the sense which my learned coadjutor would recommend : • all things have their crowne.^ Again, in our author's Cymbeline : • My supreme crvam of grief.' — [Is the foregoing rather superfluous note open to the suspicion of having been written solely for the sake of a reference to * my learned coadjutor ' ? Steevens was extremely proud (can he be censured ?) of being the only man whose name appears, as an author, on the same title-page with Dr Johnson's. — Ed.]
33. at fast and loose] Sir J. Hawkins : This is a term to signify a cheating game, of which the following is a description. A leathern belt is made up into a number of intricate folds, and placed edgewise upon a table. One of the folds is made to resemble the middle of the girdle, so that whoever should thrust a skewer into it would think he held it fast to the table ; whereas, when he has so done, the person with whom he plays may take hold of both ends, and draw it away. This trick is now known to the common people, by the name of pricking at Ihe belt or girdle^ [or garter, according to Gifford] and perhaps was practised by the Gypsies in the time of Shakespeare. —Steevens : This supposition is confirmed by the following Epigram in an ancient collection called Run and a great Cast, by Thomas Freeman, 1614 : ^Epig. 95. « Charles the ^Egyptian, who by jugling could Make/w/ or loose, or what- soere he would,' etc. — Reed : That the i^gyptians were great adepts in this art before Shakspeare's time, may be seen in Scot's Discffverie of Witchcraft, 1584, p. 336, [Of fast or loose, hatv to knit a hard knot upon a handkercher, and to undoo the samu with words. — Bk. 13, Chap, xxix.] where these practices are fully explained. — [It is mentioned twice in Love's Lab. Lost, I, ii, 150, and III, i, xo8.]
34. very heart of losse] Johnson : To the utmost loss possible. — Capell (i^ 46) : This is a phrase importing — the most perfect and absolute loss, 1. e, ruin ; and is taken from trees, whose heart and centre is commonly perfecter than their extreams. — [This Capellesque gem ought not glow unseen.]
39. Vanish] Shakespeare applies this verb to many objects, but especially, I think, to witches, dreams, ghosts, exhalations, etc. Geopatra in the last scene applies it to Iras's departing life. Here Anthony, in thus using it, continues the image, * Thou Spell ! Avaunt ! '—Ed.
ACT IV, sc. xii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 297
And blemifh Ca/ars Triumph. Let him take thee, 40
And hoift thee vp to the fhouting Plebeians,
Follow his Chariot, like the greateft fpot
Of all thy Sex. Moft Monfter-like be fhewne
For poor'ft Diminitiues, for Dolts, and let 44
41. to the] to th* Ff, Rowe, Sing. 43. Jhezone] the shew Han.
Walker, unto the KUy. 44. Diminitittes] Diminutiues Ff.
Plebeians^ Plebeians ; Rowe et for DoUs^ Ff. for dolts ; Rowe,
seq. (subs.) Pope, Theob. Han. Johns, to dolts;
43. Mqft^ Om. Han. Tyrwhitt, Var. '78, '85, Steev. Var. '03,
Monfter-like^ Monfter like F^ *I3. >r </<w:^ Thirlby, Warb. ct cet. Rowe.
41. Plebeians] Walker {^Vers. 161): 'Plebeian* — with the exception of a angle passage [Henry V: V, i, Chorus, 27], is pronounced //^^wn/ as it still is by the common people.
44. For poor'st Diminitiues, for Dolts] In a letter to Theobald, in May, 1729 (Nichols, lUust, ii, 228) the Rev. Styan Thirlby proposed the change of * dolts* to doits. Theobald, in his edition refers to Warburton's knowledge of this emen- dation ; when Warburton*s edition appeared, in 1747, he made no reference to Thirlby, but put forth the emendation as his own, and to him it has been wrongly accredited ever since, until the appearance of the Text, Notes in the Cam, Ed. Theobald* s own note on the word thus concludes, after giving his reasons for reject- ing doits : * Perhaps the Poet's meaning may be, that Geopatra should become a show, a spectacle to the scum and rabble of Rome ; to blockheads, and people of the lowest rank. Geopatra speaks twice afterwards to the same effect [see V, ii, 65, And 252].* — Warburton : As the allusion here is to monsters carried about in shows, it is plain, that the words, * for poorest diminutives,* must mean for the least piece of money. We must therefore read : * for doils,* i, e, farthings, which shows what he means by * poorest diminutives.* — Capell (i, 46, reading doits) : Had
• dolts * been the word, the Poet would have said, to dolts, to poor'st diminutives ; as he has, two lines higher, * to the shouting plebeians * ; which very words led him to
• for * and to doitSf to avoid a co-incidence of thoughts and expression in lines so near one another. — Tyrwhitt (in answer to Warburton* s note) : There was surely DO occasion for the poet to show what he meant by purest diminutives. The expres- sion is clear enough, and certainly acquires no additional force from the explana- tion. I rather believe we should read : *For poor'st diminutives, to dolts ;^ This aggravates the contempt of her supposed situation ; to be shown, as monsters are^ not only for the smallest piece of money y but to the most stupid and vulgar spectators. — Malone : I have received the emendation made by Warburton, because the letter 1, in consequence of the dot over it, is sometimes confounded with / at the press. It appears to me much more probable that * dolts * should have been printed for doitSj than that * for ' should have been substituted for to. Whichsoever of these emen- dations be admitted, there is still a difficulty. Though monsters are shown to the stapid and the vulgar for * poor'st diminutives,' yet Cleopatra, according to Antony's supposition, would certainly be exhibited to the Roman populace for nothing. Nor can it be said that he means that she would be exhibited gratis, as monsters are
298 THE TRA GEDIE OF [act iv. sc xii.
Patient 0£lauia^ plough thy vifage vp 45
With her prepared nailes. exit Cleopatra.
'Tis well th'art gone,
If it be well to Hue. But better 'twere —
Thou fell'ft into my furie, for one death
Might haue preuented many. Eros^ hoa f 50
45. Patient'\ Passioned Theob. conj. 47. th^art^ thouWt Rowe et seq. (withdrawn.) 49. into\ under Coll. ii, iii (MS).
46, 47. iViih.„g(me'] One line, Rowe 50. hoal'\ hoa! Rowe. et seq.
shown for small pieces of money ; because his words are < monster-like, be [thoa] shown for poorest diminutives.' I have sometimes therefore thought that Shakspeare might have written : * Fore poor diminutives, fore dolts.' The following passage in Tro. and Cress, adds some support to my conjecture : < How the poor world is pestered with such waterflies, diminutives of nature!' [V, i, 38.] — Knight: We believe that the < poor'st diminutives ' are the lowest of the populace, as the < dolts * are the most stupid. We must therefore understand * for ' to mean, for the gratification of; or adopt Malone's suggestion of • be shown fore^^ etc. — Dyce pronounces this explanation of Knight * very curious,* quotes Knight's understanding of • for,* and subjoins his favourite exclamation mark. — Deighton (reading doils) : With the reading [of the Folio] < for ' could only have the sense of ' for the gratification of,' a very forced one ; while Malone's objection that Cleopatra would be shown for nothing is of little value, since Shakespeare was evidently thinking of the exhibition of monsters, strange fishes, etc, at fairs, etc., in his own country. Compare Tempest^ II, ii, 28-34. — RoLFE (reading ' dolts ') : But the reference is to Cleopatra's being led in triumph through the streets of Rome, a ' free show * for the rabble, not to her being exhibited for a fee. Besides it seems more natural for Antony to emphasize the low character of the spectators than the pettiness of the price charged, if there were any. The only other instance of • diminutives ' is in Tro, 6r* Cress. V, i, 38, where it means insignificant persons. ' Monster-like ' is equivalent to as a monstrosity ; bat it is not necessary to see any reference to the fact that monsters were exhibited itx money. — [The defence of the Folio may well be left in the hands of Theobald and of Rolfe. The degradation lay in being exhibited at all, not in any sum charged for • admission.' And it is noteworthy how deeply the Uunt sank into Cleopatra's mind by her double reference to it afterward, and how her fateful imagination mag* nified it by her description of the atmosphere arising from the greasy mechanics, the dolts, and poorest diminutives. Dyce calls Knight's interpretation of * for * * veiy curious,' and Deighton pronounces it * very forced.' Compare, * For Banquo's issue have I filed ray mind.' Wherein does Anthony's * for ' differ from Macbeth's ? — Ed.]
46. her prepared nailes] Warburton : That is, with nails that she suffered to grow for this purpose. [This interpretation strikes me as puerile. * Prepared ' here means, I think, all ready ^ at any time, — Ed.]
48-50. better 'twere Thou fell'st . . . haue preuented many] Deighton : In truth it would have been better for you to die by my fury than to suffer death many times, as you will in the terrors to which your cowardice will be exposed. Compare Jul. Cces. II, ii, 32, 'Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant ne^er
ACT IV, sc. xii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 299
The (hirt of Nejfus is vpon me, teach me 5 1
Alcidesy thou mine Anceftor,thy rage.
Let me lodge Ucas on the homes o'th^Moone, 53
51. vpon fmf] upon me; Roweetseq. rt^e ; Helped thee Theob. conj. rt^e : 52,53. mge, Letme'\ Ff, Theob. Johns. Let me Rowe et cet. rage^ Led thee HdiU. rage Led thee ^suh. 53. Licas] ZfV>iaf Theob.
taste of death bat once/ — [I find it impossible to accept Deighton*s paraphrase of this difficult passage, and it is the only paraphrase that any editor or critic, as far as I know, has vouchsafed us. The < many ' deaths cannot refer to imaginary deaths, as Deighton supposes ; if he is correct, the inference is clear that it would be a pres- ent mercy to kill every coward who fears to die, which would go near to depopulate the world. Anthony does not say that Cleopatra's present death would prevent many future deaths, real or imaginary, but his words are that her death (in time past) * might have prevented many ' (others, of soldiers slain in battle). In this case, * bet- ter'twere thou fell' st' is equivalent to * better ' twere thou shouldst have fallen,' — the sequence of tenses will hardly permit ^fell'st' to be the perfect indicative. Can it be that in Anthony's present conviction of Cleopatra's treachery there rise in his memory past occasions when he mistrusted her, notably her reception of Caesar's messenger ? and he now sees that it would have been better had she fallen under his fury then ? and by one death * might have prevented many ' ? — Ed.]
51, etc. The shirt of Nessus, etc.] Heath (p. 463) : While Antony is contem- plating his present inevitable ruin, brought upon him, as he thought, by the treachery of the woman who was dearest to him, his imagination presents to him his supposed ancestor Hercules in circumstances exactly parallel, wrapped up, by the instrumen- tality of Deianira's deceived jealousy, in the poisoned shirt of Nessus, from which it was impossible he could ever extricate himself alive. Upon this point, his imagi- nation taking fire transports him almost to a delirium. He fancies himself to be a real Hercules, and the shirt of Nessus to be actually upon him ; and, after invoking his ancestor to inspire him with the same rage, with which he was actuated on the like occasion, he is instantly on the wing to exert it in the very same effects, in the lodging Lichas on the horns of the moon, and in subduing his worthiest self, with those very Herculean hands that grasped the heaviest club. All which, when stripped of those violent figures in which his heated hnagination had cloathed it, terminates in no more than this, the taking the severest vengeance on the instrument of his ruin, and putting an end to his life by his own hands. The most exception- able expression perhaps is, the bestowing the epithet, worthiest^ on himself; but even this exaggeration will appear excusable at least, if not justifiable, when it is con- sidered, that it is not seriously intended as a vain-glorious vaunt, but proceeds wholly from a transport of the fancy, which represents him to himself for that moment as the very Hercules in person. — Capell (i, 46) : Lichas was not lodg'd by Hercules quite upon 'the horns of the moon,' but was thrown from the top of Mount Oeta into the sea : Antony's exaggeration in this place, and the puffin ess of what he speaks next, should be consider* d as specimens of that Asiatick tumour of diction, which the Poet (using Plutarch's authority) has made a part of his character; throwing it into some of his speeches as occasion presented, and most properly into this.
53. Let me lodge Licas] Warburton : This image our poet seems to hare taken from Seneca's Hercules ^ who says Lichas being launched into the air, sprinkled
300 THE TRACED IE OF [act iv, sc. xiii.
And with thofe hands that grafpt the heauieft Club,
Subdue my worthieft felfe : The Witch (hall die, 55
To the young Roman Boy fhe hath fold me, and I fall
Vnder this plot : She dyes for't. Eros hoa ? exit. 57
{Scene XIII.]
Enter Cleopatra^ Charmiany IraSy Mardian .
Cleo. Helpe me my women : Oh hee's more mad Then Telamon for his Shield, the Boare of Theffaly Was neuer fo imboft. 4
55. my] thy Theob. conj. Han. Warb. XI. Cap. et cet.
</i>,] die : FjF^ et seq. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.
56. y(n4ng] Om. Han. Cap. Steev. Cap. A street in Alexandria. Kemble. Var. »03, '13, Huds. I. Enter...] Re-enter... Pope.
57. this] his FjF^, Rowe, Pope, Theob. 2. wom^] Ttwrnan Ff. Warb. Johns, her Han. he^s] he is Ff et seq.
Scene XHI. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. 4. *>«^^] ^w^wjWar. '73 et seq.
The Scene continued, Rowe,+ . Scene
the clouds with his blood. [< In astra missus fertur, et nubes vago Spargit cmore.' — HercuUs (Etaus^ III, 817.] — ^Johnson : The meaning is, * Let roe do something in my rage, becoming the successor of Hercules.*
55. my worthiest selfe] Staunton : Would Antony, in this hoar of bitter remorse, speak of his ' worthiest self ? He might have said * my worthless self ; yet the context, * the witch shall die,' makes it more probable he is thinking of Qeo- patra, and that what the author wrote was, 'Subdue my worthless elf,* ^^ being synonymous with witch or fairy. — [Alas ! alas ! See Heath's note on line 51, with which, however, I am not fully in accord. By • worthiest self,' I think Anthony means that part of bis nature which is noblest and best, — this had been in snbjection to Cleopatra ; he now prays for strength to control it, < subdue ' it, and make it again subservient to his will. — Ed.]
56. young] Dyce (ed. ii) : This word has been rejected by several editors; and assuredly, while it injures the metre, it adds nothing to the sense. — Hudson : Prob- ably the Poet wrote boy as a substitute for youngs and then both words got printed together. * Roman boy * conveys a sneer, which 'young Roman ' does not. — Abbott (§ 498) : If the text be correct, this line seems a pure Alexandrine.
3. Telamon for his Shield, the Boare of Thessaly] Steevkns : That is, than Ajax Telamon for the armour of Achilles, the most valuable part of which was the shield. * The boar of Thessaly ' was the boar killed by Meleager.
4. Was neuer so imbost] Bradley {N. £. D, s. v. Emboss) : Middle English embose^ perhaps formed on En- + old French bos^ bois, wood ; the equivalent Old French ^mbuiser occurs with sense of Ambush, If so, the word is ultimately identical wiA Tmbosk verb. The development of senses as suggested below is strange, but appe&is to be in accordance with the existing evidence, f I. intr. Of a hunted animal : To take shelter in, plunge into, a wood or thicket, f b. The past participle is used by
ACT IV, sc. xiv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA
301
Char. To'th'Monument, there locke your felfe, And fend him word you are dead : The Soule and Body riue not more in partings Then greatneffe going off.
Cleo. To'th'Monument : Mardiatty go tell him I haue flaine my felfe : Say, that the laft I fpoke was Antlionyy And word it(prythee) pitteoufly. Hence Mardian^ And bring me how he takes my death to'th'Monument.
Exeunt.
[Scene X/K]
Enter Anthony y and Eros, Ant. EroSy thou yet behold'ft me ? Eros. I Noble Lord. Ant. Sometime we fee a clowd that's Dragonifh,
S
10
14
5, 6. there locke n.»dead'\ One line. Pope et seq.
6. you are'\ you* re Pope, + , Dyce ii, in.
7, 8. Mnemonic, Warb.
9. 13. Tb'M'] F,. To th' FjF^, Wh. i. To the Sleev. et seq.
12, 13. And.,. Monument'] Lines end, /fence, ... death. ... Monument. Steev. et seq. (except Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam.)
12. ^tythee] prethee F{f Kowt \. pri- thee Rowe ii, Dyce, Glo. Cam. pr^ythee Pope et cet
pitteoufly] F,. pittioufly l\. piti-
oujly F^, Rowe.
13. death] Ff, Rowe. death, Han. death. Pope et cet.
to^th^ Monument.] Separate line, Sta.
Scene XIV. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. Scene VIII. Rowe. Scene X. Pope, Warb. Scene XL Han. Johns. Scene XII. Cap. et cet.
Cleopatra^s Palace. Rowe. The same. Another Room. Cap.
X. Enter...] Re-enter... Theob.
2. me?] me, Theob. + .
4-15. Mnemonic, Pope, Warb.
Milton for imbosked. f 2. To drive (a hunted animal) to extremity, f 3. In pas- sive of a hunted animal : To be exhausted by running ; hence, to foam at the mouth (as a result of exhaustion in running). Also, transferred sense, of persons : («) To be exhausted, at the last extremity of fatigue ; (^) to foam at the mouth (from rage, etc.). 4. transitive. To cover with foam (the mouth, the body of an animal).
5. To'th*Monument] See Plutarch, Appendix.
4. Sometime we see a clowd, etc.] Hazlitt (p. loi) : This is, without doubt, one of the finest pieces of poetry in Shakespeare. The splendour of the imagery, the semblance of reality, the lofty range of picturesque objects hanging over the world, their evanescent nature, the total uncertainty of what is led behind, are just like the moaldering schemes of human greatness. It is finer than Cleopatra's passionate lamen- tation over his fallen grandeur, because it is more dim, unstable, unsubstantial. — [In the Variorum of 1821 those who list may find four or five tepid quotations from sundry authors, which, according to Steevens and Malone, probably furnished Shake-
302 THE TRACE DIE OF [act nr, sc xrr.
A vapour fometime, like a Beare, or Lyon, 5
A toward Cittadell, a pendant Rocke,
A forked Mountaine, or blew Promontorie
With Trees vpon't, that nodde vnto the world,
And mocke our eyes with Ayre.
Thou haft feene thefe Signes, lO
They are blacke Vefpers Pageants.
5. vapour] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. 8. world] wind Cap. conj. (with- Dyce, Glo. Cam. vapour^ Theob. ct drawn. Notes ^ i» 47* )
cet 9, lo. And. ..Signes] One line, Rowe
6. toward] Yi. towered "Rowe eiseq. et seq.
7. 6Uw] bltu Rowe. la Thou haft] Thot^st Popc,+.
speare with the imagery of these lines. It is a waste of time to read tfaem, an unpardonable waste of paper and ink to reprint them. — Ed.]
II. Pageants] Murray {N. E. D. s.v.^i Origin and history obscure, i. A scene acted on the stage ; specially, one scene or act of a mediaeval mystery play, f 2. A stage or platform on which scenes were acted or tableaux represented ; espe- cially in early use, the movable structure or * carriage,' consisting of stage and stage machinery, used in open air performances of the mystery plays. 3. A tablean, repre- sentation, allegorical device, or the like, erected on a fixed stage or carried on a moving car, as a public show ; any kind of show, device, or temporary structure, exhibited as a feature of a public triumph or celebration. (This sense, in which
* scene* and ' stage' are combined, may have been the intermediate link between I and 2. ) — [In conclusion Dr Murray gives an extremely valuable Note^ wherein is discussed the two main early senses of the word, which were ' a scene displayed on a stage ' and < a stage on which a scene is exhibited or acted.' Unfortunately this purely philological question is not germane to these pages. It is not to be st^>- posed that in using the word * Pageants' Shakespeare had in mind the uncouth clumsy structures or the barbarous acting of the early Moralities or Mysteries. The pageants of his day were elaborate, allegorical, and superbly furnished. Warton (ii, 365) says < the frequent and public exhibition of personifications in the Pageaunts, which anciently accompanied every high festivity, greatly contributed to cherish the spirit of allegorical poetry, and even to enrich the imagination of Spenser. [Foot- note.] And of Shakespeare. There is a passage [the present,] in Antony and Cleo- patra^ where the metaphor is exceedingly beautiful ; but where the beauty both of the expression and the allusion is lost, unless we recollect the frequency and the nature of these shews in Shakespeare's age.' On p. 202, et seq. of the same volume. War- ton gives, from contemporary sources, an account of the magnificence of Pageants in which even royal personages took part. Whiter, also, writes to the same effect.
* It is impossible,' he says (p. 199), speaking of Pageants presented at Court, 'for the reader to form an adequate notion of these performances, or to conceive their impression on the minds of those to whom they were familiar, unless he will himself consult the original narratives, which describe their exhibition. When he reflects on the immense sums which were lavished on these occasions ; and considers that the most celebrated artists and poets of the age were employed in displaying before a voluptuous Court the most consummate specimens of their skill, he will readily
ACT IV. sc. xiv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
303
Eros. I my Lord.
Ant That which is now a Horfe, euen with a thoght the Racke diflimeSy and makes it indiflinfl As water is in water.
Eros. It does my Lord.
Ant. My good Knaue Eros^ now thy Captaine is Euen fuch a body : Heere I am Anthony^ Yet cannot hold this vifible fhape ( my Knaue ) I made thefe warres for Egypt, and the Queene, Whofe heart I thought I had, for fhe had mine : Which whil'ft it was mine, had annext vntoo't A Million moe, ( now loft : ) fhee Eros has Packt Cards with Ca/arSy and falfe plaid my Glory
12
IS
20
24
13. eugn\ ev'n Johns.
14. the] F,. The Ft
di/limes] Ff. dislimn^s Rowe, Pope, dislimns Theob. et scq. dislimbi KUy conj.
16. doei\ dds F^F^, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
18. Euen] Ev'n Johns. /am] Tm Popc, + .
19. Knaue\] knave, Rowe ii et seq.
20. Egypt,] Ff, Rowe, Coll. Wh. i, Hal. Egypt : Pope et cet.
Queene.] Ff, Rowe, + , Coll. Wh. i.
Ktly, Hal. queen, — Cap. et cet.
21. mine :] mine) Vo^. mine,liaji. Coll. Wh. i. Cam. KUy, Hal.
23. moe] Ff, Ktly, Cam. more Rowe et cet.
now /o/i:] Ff. now tost; Rowe, Coll. Wh. i, Hal. now lost! Pope, + , Var. '73. new lost, — Cap. et cet.
24. Caefars,] Ff,Coll. i. Ojar, Rowe et seq.
fal/e plaid ]false-playdC9i^, Knt, Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam.
acknowledge the saperior grandeur of these romantic spectacles.' See also Whiter's note on V, ii, 97. — Ed.]
14. the Racke dislimes] Whiter (p. 195) : This is a continuation of the same allusion to a pageant. . . . Mark the following quotation from Jonson*s Masque of Hymen : * Here the upper part of the scene, which was all of clouds, and made artificially to swell, and ride like the rack, began to open,* etc. [p. 59* cd. Giflford. It is more than probable that Whiter is here right in saying that this is a continuation of the allusion, although Anthony' s speech throughout deals with actual clouds. See a long discussion on *rack* or wreck in The Tempest, IV, i, 178 (of this ed.), where Staunton excellently remarks, of the phrase 'Leaue not a rack behinde* : 'While it is evident that by "rack** was understood the drifting vapour, or scud, as it is now termed, it would appear that Shakespeare, in the present instance, as in another occurring in Ant, &* Cleop., was thinking not more of the actual clouds than of those gauzy semblances, which, in the pageants of his day, as in the stage- spectacles of ours, were often used partly or totally to obscure the scene behind.*— Ed.]
19, 20. (my Knaue) . . . the Queene] Thiselton (p. 24) : Possibly these sug- gested the metaphor from cards, which is perhaps continued by the word * triumph.*
24, 25. Packt Cards with Caesars, and false plaid my Glory Vnto an
304 '^^^ TRACED IE OF [act iv. sc. adv.
Vnto an Enemies triumph. 25
Nay, weepe not gentle EroSy there is left vs Our felues to end our felues.
Enter Mardian. Oh thy vilde Lady,fhe has robM me of my Sword.
Mar. No Anthony^ 30
25. Enemies] Enemy's F^F^. 29. vilde'] vile F^.
triumph,'] triumph — Pope, Theob. Jhe has] sh* has Pope, + .
Han. Warb. ^^...5w^</] Separate line, Rowe
29. thy] the F^, Rowe, Pope. et scq.
Enemies triumph] War burton : Shakspeare has here, as usual, taken his meta- phor from a low trivial subject ; but has enobled it with much art, by so contriTing that the principal term in the subject from whence the metaphor was taken, should belong to, and suit the dignity of the subject to which the metaphor is transferred: thereby providing at once for the integrity of the figure, and the nobleness of the thought And this by the word triumph, which either signifies Octavius's conquest, or what we now call, contractedly, the trump at cards, then called the triumph or the triumphing sort. — JOHNSON : This explanation is very just ; the thought did not deserve so good an annotation. — Malone: I believe Warburton here, as in many other places, saw more than his author meant. Shakspeare, I think, only intended to say, that Cleopatra, by collusion, played the great game they were engaged in falsely, so as to sacrifice Antonys fame to that of his enemy. The playing false to the adversary's trump card (as Warburton explains the words) conveys no distinct idea. The plain sense of the passage will appear from the following dialogue in Florio's Second Frvtes, 1 591 : *S. What a shoofHing doo you keepe with those cardes? A. I plaie faire plaie, and shooflfell them as I ought. S. Me thinkes you pcick and set them.' [p. 69. Assuredly, Malone is right. To play false to your opponents trump can do no harm to anybody but the player and his partner. Possi- bly, the sentence may be thus paraphrased : — She < stacked ' the cards in Caesar's favour, and then, by her cheating, converted my glory into an enemy's triumph. Warburton* s note renders needless the many conunents on the conversion of 'the triumph card' into *the trump card.' — Ed.]
24. Caesars] For the superfluous s see I, iv, 11.
29. she has rob'd me of my Sword] Capell (i, 47) : Words that should not be taken metaphorically, as some have suppos'd, but literally; for that he had no sword of his own, appears by what he says to Eros [line 94], and he afterwards dies by his sword : nor is it any objection, that this sword is call'd by Dercetas Antony's sword [V, i, 30] ; who only gives it that name as knowing 'twas the sword that he dy'd by, and look'd no farther. Qeopatra's action proceeded from tenderness : she saw the rage he was in; and, fearing the effects of it, withdrew (or cans' d to be withdrawn), the instrument of his harm. — [If there were any special meaning in ask- ing Eros to use his own sword, it may have been that there was therein less thooght of suicide. Later on Anthony asks Diomed also to draw his sword and give suf- ficing strokes for death ; possibly, in this case, because the sword of Eros was still in the wound. Cleopatra had robbed Anthony of his sword just as the belief in demona's infidelity had robbed Othello of his occupation. — Ed.]
ACT IV, sc. xiv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
305
My Miftris lou'd thee, and her Fortunes mingled With thine intirely.
-/4«/.Hence fawcy Eunuch peace, fhe hath betraid me, And fhall dye the death.
Mar. Death of one perfon, can be paide but once. And that fhe ha's difchargM. What thou would'ft do Is done vnto thy hand : the laft fhe fpake Was Anthony y moft Noble Anthony : Then in the midd^fl a tearing grone did breake The name of Anthony : it was diuided Betweene her heart, and lips : fhe rendred life Thy name fo buried in her.
Ant. Dead then ?
Mar. Dead.
Ant. Vnarme Eros^ the long dayes taske is done, And we mufl fleepe : That thou depart'fl hence fafe Does pay thy labour richly : Go. exit Mardian.
Off, plucke ofT, The feuen-fold fhield of Aiax cannot keepe
31
35
40
45
49
32. intirely] entirely Warb.
33t Z^Jhe.., death'] Separate line, Han. Cap. et seq.
34. Jhall] she shall Rowe, Pope, Theob. Warb. Johns.
35-42. Mnemonic, Pope, Warb.
36. ha^s] has Yi. hath Cap.
41. rendred] tendered Ff. rendered Warb. Cap. et seq.
45. VnanneY.ro&^ F,. Unarme, Eros, F F^. Unarm me, Eros^ Rowe, + , Cap. Dyce ii, iii, Ktly, Huds. Eros, unarm;
Ritson (ap. Cam. ), Steev. Var. '03, '13. Unarm, Eros Var. *73 et cet.
46. Jleepe :] sleep, Johns. Coll. Dyce,
Wh. Ktly, Glo. Cam. Hal. sleep ! Sta.
[To Mardian. Han. Warb. Johns.
Glo. Cam. Dyce ii, iii. Om. Cap. et cet.
47, 48. Does,,. off ^ As one line, Rowe, Pope, Han. Cap. Var. * 78 et seq.
48. Off,] Oh, Ff, Rowe, Pope. Om. Han. Cap.
49. The] Then Johns, (misprint?)
45. Vnarme Eros] Collier (ed. ii) : The MS puts it 'Unarm me, Eros' [see Text. Notes], which we cannot believe to be right, because the metre is thus unneces- sarily disturbed. Steevens, almost wantonly, read 'Eros, unarm.' — Dyce, after quoting the foregoing, adds : ' A note which shows that Mr Collier has rather odd ideas on the subject of metre.' — Walker (CnV. ii, 262) : Shakespeare wrote • Unarm me, Eros.' — Lettsom {footnote to foregoing) : Collier has rejected, on met- rical grounds, this elegant and certain emendation, but he is quite mistaken. See Walker's Vers. Art. ix. There are more than fifty similar verses [i. e. where there is an extra syllable after a pause] in Collier's text of this very play. — [Oxen and wainropes cannot draw me from the conviction that ' Unarm me, Eros/ is what Shake- speare wrote. It was through the careless pronunciation of the compositor's reader that the me was lost in the final m of ' Unarm' and in the E of ' Eros.' See II, ii, 141 ; IV, viii, 24; V, ii, 268.— Ed.] ao
306 THE TRACED IE OF [act nr, sc adv.
The battery from my heart. Oh cleaue my fides. 50
Heart, once be ftronger then thy Continent,
Cracke thy fraile Cafe. Apace Eros^ apace;
No more a Soldier : bruifed peeces go.
You haue bin Nobly borne. From me awhile, exit Eros
I will oVe-take thee Cleopatra^ and 55
Weepe for my pardon. So it muft be, for now
All length is Torture : fmce the Torch is out, 57
50. The\ This Johns, conj. 53. [Unanning himself. Pope. Oh.,./tdesS\ Oh^ cleave my sides! 54. awhiU] F,Fj, Dycc, Glo. Gun.
Han. Var. *73. O cleave y my sides I a while F^ ct cct.
Theob. et seq. (subs.) 56. So it'\ A»VPope, + .
51. [Unarming himself. Rowe. 57. len^h] life Steev. conj. 53. So/dier :^ soldier— Koyrt, + . sol- M^] My Han.
dier, Ktly.
50. The battery from my heart] Boswell: This means, I apprehend, 'the haXitry proceeding from my heart, which is strong enough to break through the seven- fold shield of Ajax ; I wish it were strong enough to cleave my sides and destroy me.* — [Anthony is unarming, and, as Eros * plucks off* his breastplate, is reminded of the folly of supposing that such a mere sheet of metal could protect his heart from a battery against which Ajax's seven -fold shield would have proved vain. Then, as he breathes freer, and his chest expands, he prajrs his heart to cleave his sides, that for once it may find relief in breaking. BoswelFs note is to me incompre- hensible, and what is still more incomprehensible is that five, at least, of recent edi- tors should have adopted it in whole or in part. A shield is for the protection of the bearer. Who, one may ask, was the bearer of Ajax*s shield, who was to be pio- tected from the battery 'proceeding from* Anthony's heart? Against whom was Anthony about to open a battery from his heart? and with what object? His own heart was the citadel from which the battery could not be kept. — Ed.]
50, 51. cleaue my sides. Heart] I utterly mistrust the period in the Folio after 'sides,* which has been practically retained by every editor. It makes Anthony adjure his sides to cleave, scil. themselves. This intransitive or reflexive use of 'cleave* is rare; see Murray (N. E. D.) where comparatively few examples of it are given. Replace the period with a comma, and * cleave * then becomes the imperative of a transitive verb with * sides* as an object, and * Heart* as the subject: ' Oh, Heart, cleave my sides ! * Then, in a manner thoroughly Shakespearian, the idea is repeated, but in a different form : * for once be stronger than thy continent, crack thy frail case.* — Ed.
51. Continent] Steevens : That is, the thing that conteins thee. [Of which Schmidt's Lex. will furnish many examples.]
57. length] Halliwell {Select. Notes, p. 35) J This word may stand for length ^/i/^.— [Assuredly. And for length of time, of breathing, of heart-beats, of every- thing. It is what it is : length in the abstract. — Ed.]
57. Torture . . . Torch] Although it is dimly possible that the latter word was unconsciously suggested by the sound of the former, yet the similarity in sound was
ACT IV, sc. «v.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 307
Lye downe and ftray no farther. Now all labour $8
Marres what it does : yea, very force entangles It felfe with ftrength : Seale then, and all is done. 60
Eros? I come my Queene. Eros ? Stay for me, Where Soules do couch on Flowers, wee'l hand in hand, And with our fprightly Port make the Ghoftes gaze : Dido^ and her jEneas fhall want Troopes,
And all the haunt be ours. Come Eros^ Eros. 65
Enter Eros. Eros. What would my Lord ? 67
58. ^ray] stay Rowe ii (misprint ?) 61. me,"] me; Cap. et seq.
fartherlfurther Rowe ii, + , Varr. 64, iEneas] Sichaus Warb. Han.
Ran. Slecv. Varr. Dyce. 67, 68. IVhat. . . Since^ I come my Lord:
60. SeaW] Seal F^. sleep Han. —Here's one brings word 0/ Enobarbui
61. Eros?] Eros!— Rowe et seq. death. Ant. I have forgiven him. Since Siay^ Say Ff. Kemble.
leflB in Shakespeare's day than at present. It was probably pronounced, somewhat as in French, tort-yeure. — Ed.
58-6a Now sdl labour Marres what it does : 3rea, very force enUngles It ■elfie with strength] Walker ( Crit. iii, 309) appositely compares these lines with Satinet lavXx '. * Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage. Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart, . . . And in mine own love*s strength seem to decay, 0*ercharg'd with burthen of mine own love's might.' Deighton thus para- phrases the latter clause : * Yea, all strong efforts only confound themselves by their strength ; what should be the source of success only ensures failure.
60. Seale then] Theobald: Antony had offended Geopatra with his suspicions ; he is about doing something to deserve her pardon : and he thinks stabbing himself will seal that pardon. — ^Warburton : Metaphor taken from civil contracts, where, when all is agreed on, the sealing compleats the contract ; so he hath determined to die, and nothing remained but to give the stroke. — Johnson : I believe the reading is : * seel then, and all is done.' To seel hawksy is to close their eyes. The mean- ing will be : * Gose thine eyes for ever^ and be quiet. ^ — Steevens : The old read- ing is the true one. Thus, in Henry V: * And so espous'd to death, with blood he seaVd A testament of noble-ending love.' [IV, vi, 26.]
64. Dido, and her ^neas] Warburton : But Dido's fondness did not reach to the other world ; she then despised i^neas, and returned to her old affection for Sichaeus. I should think, therefore, that the Poet wrote, * Dido and her Sichaus,* And the rather, because the comparison of Antony to Sichseus is remarkably apposite. Sichseus was murdered by his brother Pygmalion for his wealth, on which his wife, I>ido, fled into Africa : So Antony was fought with and defeated at Actium by his brother Octavius, for his share of the dominion of the world, whereon Geopatra fled from the victor's rage into Egypt. [* and there is salmons in both.' — Ed.] — Capell (i, 47) : The Poet did not stay to consider, whether Dido's love for uCneas did or did not follow her into the other world ; it was very sufficient for his purpose — that the loves of her and vEneas were of great fame, which made them a fit couple to be rank'd with those he is talking of.
3o8
THE TRACED IE OF
[act it, sc xnr.
Ant. Since Qeopatra dyed, I haue liuM in fuch dilbonour, that the Gc<ds Deteil my baieneiTe. I, that with my Sword, Quarter d the World, and o*ne greene Neptunes backe With Ships, made Cities; condemne vof Cdfe, to lacke The Courage of a Woman, ieiie Noble minde
68
70
73
hmd ] FiM Sir 4
72. LJk.-atri-.] .?S£:, Rowie, J^^^>>^ ^
,> .,-«^-»^] TJF^ mMt Rcve. W«*5. V». -73. w«^
Kcrr^CbZL b.
udbeaft sc2 iiii'iil firoaks
r-fi^ W^ S&^pi^ aiA^ Oia»; Onin««L .^?«- ^ rZLvbznvae 14:' ^ hm .-WW 5r yurjtam' ricuarr;!^ 3»n«««:L nuri^'^rywrH i
U
St
>tw;.*i>in ^ifi«i<*s^ unc -us* luthe anmi Jit ■«!- ^ " auix»|!^ -:hfi* «!%£ itaK;. jMOc«!iwmiV ^anm^ awt ^tfwc in mi awe
^•jrtK^htr itHuvmrnntK^ m Wt»cil. ^«j -bksc Ujw^l tsmtaiii* jmL at
-4lM^ ii "WAiiwik >*^«ix.«!>8- -rH« -nqnlfiic^'iM: • ^jmaana vmsmf n jh^ 'K;^MiK(«to«v. -pmf. Irnfm >»«c*» jwnncmq^r ir ^n^hv ^ Bimnann. ipr^iH yr' •iW^ -NHime^ A' % •'•Mttmnfc ' V«w<"*" » 252^ ^numiw^ -aum jmt shot -
0
Ik
-.■^
ACT IV, sc. xiv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 309
Then fhe which by her death, our Ccefar telles
I am Conqueror of my felfe. Thou art fworne EroSy 75
That when the exigent fhould come, which now
Is come indeed : When I fhould fee behinde me
Th'ineuitable profecution of difgrace and horror,
That on my command, thou then would'ft kill me.
Doo% the time is come : Thou ftrik'ft not me, 80
Tis Cafar thou defeated. Put colour in thy Cheeke.
Eros. The Gods with-hold me. Shall I do that which all the Parthian Darts, 83
75. I am\ Tm Pope, + , Dyce ii, iii. featest,., cheek, Ktly. Lines end, of.,.
I,..felfe'\ As quotation, Theob. et command^ ... come : ...defeatist. ... cheek,
seq. (subs.) Cap. et seq.
77. indeed:^ indeed, Rowe et seq. 80. Dodt, /he] F,. Do i/, for the (mbs.) Pope, + . Do V, the F^F^ et cet (subs.)
78-«i. Th'ineuitable... Cheeke.^ Lines 81. *7m] 7i7/F^. 'AT/ Rowe.
end, disgrace... then... come : ...defeatist. thy] my Ff, Rowe, Pope.
.,. cheek. Rowe, + , Knt. Lines end, 82. »i^,] Ff, Rowe. iw^.* Pope, me!
prosecution . . . command . . . come. — . . . de- Theob. et seq.
night have been made a little clearer had the punctuation of the Folio been followed. But every editor since Rowe has placed a semi-colon or a colon after * Woman,' and so disjointed the sentence. Walker {Crit. iii, 310) says » Read " less noble-minded,^^ ' His editor, Lettsom, in a footnote, observes, • So Rowe and all the earlier editors. Malone and Steevens have done their best to darken noon. Compare for the mean- ing of minded. Tarn, of the Shrew, II, i, ** I am as peremptory as she proud-minded.** * Possibly, it would be better to accept * less noble- mind^/// but it is not necessary ; * I, less noble mind' is, to me, fully as intelligible, and rather more dignified in its humiliation. — Ed.
78. Th'ineuitable prosecution of disgrace and horror] This line, with its eight feet catalectic, has given much metrical trouble. Its predecessor and suc- ceasor are adequately correct, but this line is certainly a notable violation of the laws of blank verse. To utter these words, proclaiming his open shame, must have cost Anthony's proud spirit a fierce struggle ; every word is a torture, and his emotion nnist have been almost uncontrollable before he could bring himself to utter • disgrace* and * horror.* Wherefore, disregarding all metrical laws whatsoever, I would, with a long pause after « of,' put * disgrace and horror * in a separate line, and allow the ether lines to remain und'sturbed. Although this arrangement is, in effect, for the benefit of the eye, yet through the eye it conveys an intimation of the way in which, as I think, it should be spoken. — Ed.
81. Put colour in thy Cheeke] Elsewhere Shakespeare makes us sec how terror blanches the cheek. ' Out, you tallow-face,' says old Capulet to Juliet when he tells ber she must marry Paris. • What soldiers, whey-face ? ' asks Macbeth of the Ser- vant who brings the news of the approach of ten thousand English. John Hunter paraphrases it, however, * Rouse the blood into thy face through eagerness to defeat r.'— Ed.
3IO THE TRACED IE OF [act iv. sc. xiv.
(Though Enemy) loft ayme, and could not.
Ant. EroSy 85
Would'ft thou be windowM in great Rome, and fee Thy Mafter thus with pleacht Armes, bending downe His corrigible necke, his face fubdu'de To penetratiue fhame ; whil'ft the wheelM feate Of Fortunate Ccefar drawne before him, branded 90
His Bafeneffe that enfued.
Eros. I would not fee't.
Ant. Come then : for with a wound I muft be cur'd. Draw that thy honeft Sword, which thou haft wome Moft vfefull for thy Country. 95
Eros. Oh fir, pardon me.
Ant. When I did make thee free, fwor'ft y not then To do this when I bad thee ? Do it at once, Or thy precedent Seruices are all But accidents vnpurposM. Draw, and come. lOO
Eros. Tume from me then that Noble countenance, Wherein the worfhip of the whole world lyes.
Ant. Loe thee.
Eros. My fword is drawne.
Ant. Then let it do at once 105
The thing why thou haft drawne it.
Eros. My dee re Mafter, My Captaine, and my Emperor. Let me fay 108
84. Enemy\ enemies Ktly. 98. bad'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Tlieob. i,
not.'\ not ? Rowe et seq. Han. Cap. bade Theob. ii ct cet
87. Thy\ The F^. 103. thee\ there Wh. i conj.
pleacht'\ pleach^ d C2i.p, et seq. [Turning from him. Rowe.
89. wheel* d^ wheel ]o\ms. ap. Cam. 105. let it'\ Om. Words.
91. enfued.^ ensued? Rowe ii et seq. at onee'\ Om. Han.
97. jJ] thou Ff. 108. Emperor] empWor Pope, + .
87. pleacht Armes] Johnson : Arms folded in each other. — [In the frontispiece of Bmlon's Anatomy of Melancholy the woe-begone * Inamorato ' is represented with 'pleacht arms,* as a sign of sadness. — Ed.]
88, 89. His corrigible necke, . . . penetratiue] Steevkns : * CorrigiUe ' for corrected^ and * penetrative ' for penetrating. So Virgil has * penetrabUe frig^us * for * penetrans frigus,* in his Georgics, [i, 93.]
91. His Basenesse that ensued] Johnson : The poor conquered wretch that followed. — Singer: This is a little inaccurate ; the captives came before the victor in the order of a Roman triumph.
102. the worship] Johnson : That is, the dignity, the authority.
ACT IV, sc. xiv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 311
Before I ftrike this bloody ftroke, Farwell.
Ant. 'Tis faid man, and farewell. 1 10
Eros. Farewell great Chiefe. Shall I ftrike now ?
Ant. Now Eros. KilUs himfelfe.
Eros. Why there then : Thus I do efcape the forrow of Anthonies death.
Ant. Thrice-Nobler then my felfe, 115
Thou teacheft me : Oh valiant Erosy what I (hould, and thou could'ft not, my Queene and Eros Haue by their braue inftruftion got vpon me A Nobleneffe in Record. But I will bee
A Bride-groome in my death, and run intoo't 120
As to a Louers bed. Come then, and Eros, Thy Mafter dies thy Scholler ; to do thus I learnt of thee. How, not dead? Not dead ? The Guard, how? Oh difpatch me. 124
109. FarweU'\ farewell Yi, 1 21. Come then^"] Rowe, Pope, Han.
I IX Killes...] After line i i3,Rowe, + . Come then; Theob. Warb. et seq.
113, 114. Why ,„ for row] One line, M^»,] M^w / [taking Eros' sword.
Han. Cap. Var. '78, '85, Mai. Ran. Steev. Cap.
Coll. Dyce, Cam. Two lines, ending 122. [Falling on his Sword. Rowe.
gAen ^ „. sorrow. Pope, Theob, Warb. 123. learn/'] leamU Han. learned
Johns. Var. ' 73 et seq.
113. then .•] then — Rowe, + . How, not"] Ff, Rowe. How^ not
1 14. Ido'\ do I Theob. ii,Warb. Johns. yet Pope, + . How ! not yet Cap. How ! Varr. Ran. Varr. Coll. Wh. i, Hal. not Var. '73 et seq.
^Anthonies </ra/>i] Separate line, 124. Guards how ?'\Y{. Gttard-^how!
Pope ct seq. — Rowe, Pope, Han. Knt Guard
[Dyes. Theob. Warb. Johns. —ho!— Theob. Warb. Johns. Sta.
115. TXririsAWArr] F.Fj, Dyce, Glo. Guard? how !—Q;a,^,yKt.'''j%. Guard? Thrice Nobler Y^ticeL _^^/— Var. '73. Guard, hoi— Var. fel/e^l self I Pope et seq. '8$, Ran. Dyce, Wh. Glo. Cam. Guard!
116. me:"] me^ Pope et seq. — how! — Mai. Guard! — ho! — Steev.
117. thou'\ Om. FjF^. Varr. Sing. Ktly, Hal. Coll. iii. Guard! not,] not; Rowe, Pope, Theob. — how? — Coll. i, ii. Guard now ! Barrj
Warb. mft. Johns, et seq. (subs.) ap. Coll.
113. Why there then] After these words Theobald inserted the stage direc- tion, £res kills himself; and then, to make assurance double sure, adds at the close of the next line. Dyes, This slaying of the slain was faithfully copied by Warbur- TO!f and Johnson, who, while sneering at Theobald at every turn, printed, almost alATiably, from his edition. — Ed.
117-119. my Queene and Eros Haue ... got vpon me A Noblenesse, etc.] Xhat is» my Queen and Eros have gained the advantage of me in the history of noble deeds. See Franz's note on II, iv, 11, «you*le win two dayes vpon me.' — Ed.
120. A Bride-groome in my death] Steevens : Compare * If I must die, I will encoonter darkness as a bride, And hug it in mine ttnD&:^Meas,for Meas, III, i, 83.
312 THE TRACED IE OF [act iv, sc. xiv.
Enter a Guard. 125
\. Guard. What's the noife? Ant. I haue done my worke ill Friends : Oh make an end of what I haue begun. 2 The Starre is falne.
I And time is at his Period. 130
All. Alas, and woe. Afit. Let him that loues me, ftrike me dead.
1 Not I.
2 Nor I.
3 Nor any one. exeunt 135 Dercetus. Thy death and fortunes bid thy folowers fly
This fword but fhewne to Ccefar with this tydings, Shall enter me with him.
Enter Diomedes.
Dio. ^h^TQ^s Anthony? 140
Deere. There Diomed there.
Diom. Liues he : wilt thou not anfwer man ? 142
125. Scene XI. Pope, Warb. Scene 129. falne\ F,. fain F F^, Rowe,
XII. Han. Johns. Pope, Theob. Warb. faWn Han. Johns.
Enter...] Enter Decretas and Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. /b//nf Cap. et cet.
Guard. Rowe (Dercetas, Pope). After 134. Nor\ NotY^.
line 123, Cap. 136. Dercetus.] Deere. Ff. Dec
1 27. / hauf\ Fve Pope, + , Dyce ii, Rowe. Der. Pope,
iii. 137. thi5\ these Han.
127, 128. I haiie..,end^ One line, I42. he :'\ he?Y^,
Han. Cap. et seq. wilt ... man /] Separate line,
127. worke ill^ F,. work^ ill F^F^, Steev. et seq.
Rowe i. work ill^ Rowe ii et seq. man ?'\ Om. Han.
129. 2 The'\ 2 Guard. The Rowe. [Exit Dercetas. Var.'78.
124. The Guard, how] Malone lays stress on his having early * suspected' that * how ' should here be printed ho, unmindful or ignorant of the fact that, long before, Theobald had so printed it in his text, and had been faithfully followed therein by his two beneficiaries, Warburton and Johnson. Dyce, also, not a little emphasises his own discrimination in acutely distinguishing ho from *how.* Through two editions Collier bravely clung to *how,' but, in his Third Ed, yielded to ko^ possi- bly in consequence of Dyce's home-question (Strict, p. 207) : * If Mr Collier did not intend to make Antony " call the guard," I should like to know what meaning he would have us attach to " The Guard ! " The modem editors who printed Mo for •*how*' were evidently right.' — Ed.
I37» '38. This sword . . . Shall enter me with him] Surely these two lines are spoken aside. I cannot, however, find that any editor has so printed them. — Ed. For * enter,' meaning * to admit into a society, etc. ; or into a condition or state,' see N. E. D. II. 17. transitive, b. [The present line quoted.]
137. this tydings] Again used as a singular noun in < it is Tydings,' V, i, 34.
ACT IV, sc. xiv.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA
313
Ant. Art thou there Diomed'i Draw thy fword, and giue mee, Suffifing ftrokes for death.
Diom. Mod abfolute Lord : My Miftris Cleopatra fent me to thee.
Ant. When did fhee fend thee ?
Diom. Now my Lord.
Anth Where is fhe ? (feare
Diom. Lockt in her Monument : fhe had a Prophefying Of what hath come to paffe : for when fhe faw (Which neuer fhall be found) you did fufpeft She had difpos'd with Cce/ar^ and that your rage Would not be purged, fhe fent you word fhe was dead : But fearing fince how it might worke, hath fent Me to proclaime the truth, and I am come I dread, too late.
Ant. Too late good Dio^nedi call my Guard I prythee.
Dio. What hoa : the Emperors Guard, The Guard, what hoa f Come, your Lord calles. Enter \. or ^. of the Guard of Anthony.
Ant. Beare me good Friends where Cleopatra bides,
143
14s
ISO
155
160
163
143, 144. Art..,mee'\ One line, Rowe et seq.
151, 150. yke... (feare] Separate line, Han.
151. had] kad, alas ! Han.
Propkefying] Om. Cap. conj. Gar. prophet's Steev. conj. prophetic Words.
153. ( Which. ,,/ufpect] You did sus- pecty — which never shall be found — Words.
154. difpos'd] compos" d Coll. MS.
155- y<^^ Om. Pope, + , Var. '73.
'59* prythee] prethee Yi^ Rowe. pri- thee Knt, Dyce, GIo. Cam. pr'ythee Pope et cet.
160, 161. What hoa: ... what hoa'^] One line, Pope et seq.
162. Enter...] Ff, Glo. Cam. Enter the Guard. Rowe. Enter a Guard. Johns. Enter some of the Guard. Cap.
163. where] were F^.
bides] 'bides Johns. Var. '73.
151. Lockt . . . (feare] Abbott (§§ 505, 470) : It is difficult to scan this line without making the latter portion a verse of four accents. (Perhaps * L<5ck'd in | her m6n(u) I ment. Sh^'d | a pr6phe | sying f^ar,' making * sying * a monosyllable like •being,* 'doing.') — [Is this really scanning? where vowels are dropped, and the final ^3 of participles disregarded in a scamper to utter the line in five feet? — Ed.]
154. She had disposM with Caesar] Murray (N. E. D. s. v. II. Intransitive senses. 7 | b.) : To settle matters, make terms. [The present line quoted.]
162. Enter 4. or 5. of the Guard] Collier (ed. i) : The old stage-direction shows how many the theatre (supposing the tragedy to have been acted, of which, though we can have no proof, there can be little doubt) afforded for this duty.
y
314
THE TRACED IE OF
[act IV, SC. XT.
'Tis the lad feruice that I fhall command you.
I Woe, woe are we fir, you may not liue to weare All your true Followers out
AIL Moft heauy day.
Ant. Nay good my Fellowes, do not pleafe fharp fate To grace it with your forrowes. Bid that welcome Which comes to punifh vs,and we punifh it Seeming to beare it lightly. Take me vp, I haue led you oft, carry me now good Friends, And haue my thankes for all . Exit bearing Anthony
[Scene XK]
Enter Cleopatra^ and her Maides aloft, with
Charmian & Iras.
165
170
173
Cleo. Oh Charmian, I will neuer go from hence.
Char. Be comforted deere Madam.
Cleo. No, I will not : All ftrange and terrible euents are welcome, But comforts we difpife ; our fize of forrow ProportionM to our caufe, muft be as great As that which makes it.
Enter Diomed.
5
10
164. feruice] feevice F,.
165. I Woe] Guard. IVoe Rowe. Woe^ woe are] Woe! woe are
Rowe. Woe are Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. Cap. Stccv. Var. '03, *I3, Words.
166. Followers] follow' rs Pope,Theob. Warb. Johns.
172. oft,] oft; Theob. Warb. Cap. et seq.
173. Exit...] Exeunt... Ff.
Scene XV. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. Act V. Scene i. Rowe. Scene XII. Pope,
Warb. Scene XIII. Han. ct cet.
A magnificent Monument. Rowe. The Battlements of the Monament. Kenible.
I. Enter...] Enter Cleopatra, Char- mian, and Iras, above. Rowe. Enter at a Window, above, Geopatra, Charmian, and Iras. Cap. Enter above, on a gal- lery... Wh.
10. Enter...] Enter, below... Coll. Diomed.] Diomedes. Rowe.
173. Here follows Scene viii, in Kemble's version, consisting solely of 'Mournful Music. Titius and Guards pass towards the monument, bearing Anthony on his Litter.*— Ed.
7-9. our size of sorrow . . . which makes it] As Deighton justly remarks, this sentence is somewhat tautological : ' the size of our sorrow, when it is of the same size as the cause, must be as great as the cause.' Deighton's paraphrase adroitly helps to veil the tautology : * the sorrow I feel, commensurate to the reason I have for it, cannot help showing itself, with equal amplitude.' — Ed.
ACT IV. sc. XV.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA
315
How now? is he dead ?
Diom. His death's vpon him, but not dead. Looke out o'th other fide your Monument, His Guard haue brought him thither.
Enter Anthony ^and the Guard.
Cleo. Oh Sunne, Bume the great Sphere thou mou'ft in, darkling {land The varrying fhore o'th'world. O Antony j Antony j Antony
II
15
18
12, 13. His.,. out ^ One line, Cap. 12-14. His... thither. '\ Lines end, otU ,., hither. Han.
12. death' si deaths F.Fj.
Imt not ] but he is not Ktly.
13. o'thl Ff, Rowe, + , Wh. Dyce ii, iii. o'the Cap. et cet.
other yide"] other- side Rowe i. your Monument ] Om. Han. your moHumenty — But see. Cap.
14. thither"] hither Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. Cap.
15. Enter...] Enter Antony, bom by the Guard. Rowe. Enter, below, ... Coll.
16. Sunneyl th(m sun, Pope, + , Steev. Var. '03, '13. sun, sun. Cap. Words.
17. Bume thereat] Turn from the Han. Turn from th' great Warb.
/land] stand on Ktly.
18. The... O Antony,] One line, Johns. Cap. Varr. Mai. Sieev.
18-20. The ... hither.] Lines end, O Antony f ... Iras ; ... hither. Cap. Lines end, O Antony ! ...Iras, help; ...hither. Mai. Steev. Var. '03, '13, Sing. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. Ktly, Hal. 18. varrying] varying F^F^. o'th'] Ff, Rowe. oUhe Cap. Antony, Antony, Anlony] An- tony ! Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
Antony, Antony] Separate line, Johns. Van. Ran.
12. His death's . . . dead] Steevens: The defective measure, and want of respect in the speaker, induce me to suppose that the line originally stood, * His death's upon him, madam, but not dead.'
14. thither] Dyce (ed. ii) : The Second Folio has hither ; but the original word agrees well enough with what precedes. — [Is 'thither* merely 'well enough* when it refers to that place, away from the speaker, on the other side of the monument ? Is it possible, in such circumstances, that hither can be right? — Ed.]
17. Bume the great Sphere thou mou*st in] Heath (p. 464) : According to the philosophy which prevailed from the age of Aristotle to that of Shakspeare, and long since, the sun was a planet, and was whirled round the earth by the motion of a solid sphere in which it was fixed. If the sun therefore was to set fire to the sphere, so as to consume it, the consequence would be, that itself, for want of support, must drop through, and wander in endless space ; and in that case, the earth would be involved in endless night. [See note on III, xiii, 175.]
18. The varrying shore o'th* world] War burton : That is, of the earth, where light and darkness make an incessant variation. — Staunton (Atkenaum^ 26 Apr. 1873) : We have here a painful proof of the injury which the change of a word can do to the finest jms'^ao^e. Cleopatra's magnificent invocation is turned into sheer non- sense by that miserable misprint * shore.* What is the varying shore ? . . . Read •The varying star o'th' world.' The varying star of the world, spelt of old starre, is, of course, * the inconstant moon.* Compare, in this tragedy, * — Alack, our terrene fnoon Is now edips'd.' — III, xiii, 183; 'now the fleeting moon No planet is of mine.'
3i6
THE TRACED IE OF
[act IV, SC XV.
Helpe Charmiatiy helpe Iras helpe : helpe Friends Below, let's draw him hither.
AnL Peace, Not Ccs/ars Valour hath o'rethrowne Anthony^ But Anthoni^s hath Triumpht on it felfe.
Cleo. So it fhould be. That none but Afithony fhould conquer Ant/tony^ But woe ^tis fo.
A?iL I am dying Egypt, d)ang ; onely I heere importune death a-while, vntill Of many thoufand kiffes, the poore laft I lay vpon thy lippes.
Cleo. I dare not Deere,
20
25
30
19. Ilelpe Charmian, helpe Iras helpe :'\ Charmiarty help ; help, Iras ; Cap. Steev. Var. '03, *I3. Help, Charmian, help; Iras help ; Varr. Mai. Ran.
19-25. helpe Friends ... conquer An- thony] Lines end, below ! ...valour ... Antonyms ... itself. ... Antony ... conquer Antony. Walker (CnV. iii, 310).
20. Below, let's'] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Var. '21. Below there, let us Han. Be- low; let^s Theob. ct cet. (subs.)
23. Anthonie'j] Anthonie F,. Anthony FjF^, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. it felfe'] himself Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
24-26. So...fo.'\ Lines end, but Antony ...so. Rowe et seq.
27- Egypt, dying] Egypt, dying, dyif^ Steev. conj.
onely] only yet Pope, + , Cap. Words.
28. a-while] F,. awhile F^F^, Dyce, Glo. Cam. a while Rowe et cet
30. lippes. ] lips. — Come down. Theob. Han. Warb. Cap.
31, 32. / dare. ..dare not'\ One line, KUy.
Deere, Deere... not] One line, in parenthesis, Theob. Han. Warb. Cap. (subs.)
—V, ii, 291. . . . But it is needless, I believe, to multiply quotations to demonstrate that 'shore' is an erratum for star, or to make clear that Egypt's queen, in her wretchedness, calls, like Othello, for • a huge eclipse of sun and moon,* The sense and context both justify the emendation. — [Hudson adopted Staunton's emendation in his text. It is, indeed, a si>ecious one, and tlie passage from Othello, which seems to be parallel, is forceful. But we are not justified in making so great a change, unless the original is, in reality, * sheer nonsense.' I think all will agree that Warbur- ton's explanation is puerile. It is not alone the shores of the world that are subjected to the * incessant variation of light and darkness.' As far as this variation is con- cerned, Qeopatra might as well have said * the varying toivns of the world.* It was more than the mere shores that Cleopatra wished might stand darkling ; it was the whole world, of which the shores were the limit. And the image of the whole world, the orbis terrarum, which, possibly, Shakespeare had here in mind, was the same as that, which, with its irregular outline, its deeply indented, its ' varying ' shore, he htd already called the * three-nook' d MfoxXd.* Emendation is, I think, entirely uncalled for. — Ed.]
28. I heere importune death] Johnson : I solicit death to delay ; or, I tromhle death by keeping him in waiting.
ACT IV. sc. XV.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
317
Deere my Lord pardon : I dare not,
Leaft I be taken : not th'Imperious fhew
Of the full-Fortun'd CcBfar^ euer fhall
Be brooch'd with me, if Knife, Drugges, Serpents haue
Edge, fting, or operation. I am fafe :
Your Wife 06lauia^ with her modeft eyes.
And ftill Conclufion, fhall acquire no Honour
32
35
38
32. Deere ,,, pardon\ In parenthesis, Mai. Steev. et seq. (subs.)
pardon\ Your pardon that Theob. Han. Warb. Cap. pardon^ pardon me Huds.
dare not^'\ dare not; Theob. Warb. dare not descend Mai. conj. Ran. dare not eome down Ritson, Words, dare not come Elze. dare not ope the door Nich- olson ap. Cam.
34. fuH-Fortun'd'\ dull/ortun'd F^.
35. brooch' d'\ broach' d¥^Y^, mCf"] me; Rowe et seq. JiTm/el Knives Cap.
36. ftingy or operation"] operation or sting Han.
operation.] operation, Ff. 38. Conciufion] condition Coll. ii (MS), complexion Kinnear. no] Om. FjF^.
32. I dare not] This is one of the lines, enumerated at IV, Tiii, 9, which Walker (Crit, iii, 307) says has lost something at the end. The Text. Notes bear witness tiimt something has happened. After devising an addition (to supply what is sup- posed to be lost), which will never be generally accepted, and after the counting of syllables in order to convert these impassioned lines into smug pentameters, the zeal- ous critics must have retired with * fingers weary and worn,* — and without adding anything toward the better comprehension of a line already adequately clear. — Ed.
35. Be brooch'd with me] Murray {N. E, D,) gives the present passage as the only example of the use of this verb, except one other reference of a date as late as 1865. Its meaning is * to adorn as with a brooch.' The substantive < brooch ' is ' the same as broach, the difference of spelling being only recent, and hardly yet established.' Its meanings are * i. An ornamental fastening, consisting of a safety pin, with the clasping part fashioned into a ring, boss, or shield, or other device of precious metal or other material, artistically wrought, set with jewels, etc. Now used mainly as a (female) ornament; but always for the ostensible purpose of fastening some part of the dress, f 2. Formerly also in a more general sense ; according to Johnson **a jewel, an ornament of jewels.'* In earlier times applied to a necklace, a bracelet, and other trinkets.*
35, 36. Knife, Drugges, Serpents haue Edge, sting, or operation] To make this * respective construction * exact, the order of the second line should run : * Edge, operation, or sting,' as Hanmer has it, but it does not run smoothly. In the reference to * serpents,' have we an anticipation ? — Ed.
38. still Conclusion] Johnson : That is, sedate determination ; silent coolness of resolution. — Nares : From the character and state of mind of Cleopatra, I should think she meant * deep but secret censure, looking demure all the while.* [The qualities set forth by Johnson] would not be called for by the occasion, nor would they be particularly galling to Cleopatra. — Collier (ed. ii) : Condition is a very Taluable emendation in the MS for 'conclusion.* How easy it was to misprint, or misread condition, * conclusion,' requires no explanation. The reference is to the
3l8 THE TRACE DIE OF [act nr, sc. xy.
Demuring vpon me : but come, come Anthony^
Helpe me my women, we muft draw thee vp : 40
Aflift good Friends.
Ant, Oh quicke, or I am gone.
Cleo. Heere's fport indeede : 43
40. vp:'\up — Rowe, + . «//Cap. ct 43. Heere^s fport'\Her^ sport Qx^/\\^ seq. iii (MS). H^s spent Bailey. Here's
41. [Cleopatra, and her Women, throw support ^ing, conj.
out certain Tackle, into which the People 43, 44. Heere^s ,„ Lardf One line,
below put Antony, and he is drawn up. Rowe et seq.
Cap.
modest eyes and tranquil temperament of Octavia ; ' conclusion ' is not far from non- sense. [Yet Collier returned to it in his Third Edition,'^ — Anon. {Bla^kwood^ Oct 1^53) P* 4^^) • ^low good is that expression < still conclusion' ! That lady of yoors, looking demurely upon me with her modest eyes, and drawing her quiet inferences^ shall acquire no honour from the contrast between my fate with her own. And yet we are called on by [Collier's MS] to give up these pregnant words for the vapid substitution of ' still condition ! * This, we say, is no fair exchange, but downright robbery.
39. Demuring vpon me] This is the only example given by Min^RAY {H. £. />.) of this verb. He queries if it be intransitive, and after defining it as <To look demurely,' gives Johnson's definition : * to look with an affected modesty.' Finally, he makes a valuable suggestion in referring to a certain use (3 b.) of the verb * demur,' where it means ' to be of doubtful mind ; to remain doubtful.' This is cer- tainly worthy of consideration. I think no one can be fully satisfied with Johnson's definition ; it negatives the * modest eyes' which Qeopatra has just scornfully granted to Octavia. I think it would be more appropriate if we could understand ' demur- ing ' as demurring, that is, slightly amplifying the meaning suggested by Murray, 'looking doubtfully askance upon me.* — Ed.
43. Heere's sport indeede] Johnson : I suppose the meaning of these strange words is, here's trifling, yott do not work in earnest. — M ALONE : Perhaps rather, here's a curious game, the last we shall ever play with Anthony ! Or perhaps she is thinking of fishing with a line, a diversion, of which, we have been already told, she was fond. Shakespeare has introduced ludicrous ideas with as much incongrui^ in other places. — [This note of Malone appeared in 1790, and again in each suc- ceeding Variorum down to 1821, when Boswell omitted it and substituted the follow- ing, of his own : * She is contrasting the melancholy task in which they are now engaged with their former sports.* Malone's note obtained one advocate at least,— see Leo's note, below.] — Steevens : Cleopatra, perhaps, by this affected levity, this phrase which has no determined signification, only wishes to inspire Antony with cheerfulness, and encourage those who are engaged in the melancholy task of draw- ing him up into the monument. — Collier (ed. ii) [The MS by striking out the j changed * sport * into port ] : The fact seems to be that Shakespeare used the word port for weighty as the French call a large, heavy ship une navire de grand pert, Cleopatra, of course, alludes to the burden of Antony, and to the difficulty of draw- ing him up. — Singer (Sh. Vind. p. 297), in his criticism of Collier's MS emen- dations,— a criticism so bitter and personal that it defeated its purpose by its intern-
ACT IV. sc. XV.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 319
How heauy weighes my Lord ?
Our ftrength is all gone into heauinelTe, 45
That makes the wai ght. Had I great lunds power,
The ftrong wingM Mercury fhould fetch thee vp,
And fet thee by loues fide. Yet come a little,
Wifhers were euer Fooles. Oh come, come, come, 49
45. heauinejfe^ heaviness ; Knt, Sta. 49. FooUsJ^ foob^ — Dyce, Sta. Glo.
Cam. Cam.
A,T*Jlr<mg wing'*d'\ strong-winged come^ come^ come,"] come, came^
Pope et seq. strong^ d-wing* d Johns. come — Rowe, + ,
(misprint. )
■
peiance, — sajrs : ' It would astonish me, and many more, if Mr Collier should succeed in finding port used for *< a load or weight" in the whole range of English literature.' — Collier (Notes, etc. p. 501 — a volume into which Collier collected all, or the chiefest, of the MS emendations) acknowledges the weakness of port by the addi- tional remark that * we may not be able to point out any other instance where port signifies in English a load or weight.* — Anon. (Blackwood, Oct. 1853, p. 468) : Johnson's note on this place is remarkable as an instance of want of judgement in a man whose sagacity was very rarely at fault. [Johnson is then quoted.] No inter- pretation could well go wider of the mark than this. Steevens says that she speaks with an ' affected levity.' It would be truer to say that she speaks from that bitter- ness of heart which frequently finds a vent for itself in irony. . . . Even although authority could be found for [port used for a load or weight. Collier's] proposed reading would still be utterly indefensible, — * Here's port (i. e. weight) indeed ! how ktavy weighs my lord ! ' This is as bad as * old Goody Blake was old and poor.' Singer proposes support, which we can by no means approve of, as it seems to have no sense. — Staunton : The pathos of this exclamation, so piteous in the contrast it implies between the fallen queen's present occupation and the diversions of her happier times, is quite lost on Collier's unsusceptible commentator, who coolly reads, * Here's port indeed' ! — Hudson : Some editors have stumbled rather strangely at this use of 'sport' ; just as if it were not a common and a natural thing for people to express the intensest feeling by words of a contrary meaning. — Leo (p. 143) com- pares these words with Cleopatra's dreamings in the old days when her bended hook pierced the fishes' slimy jaws, and, as she drew them up, she would ' think them every one an Anthony, and say ah, ha ! you're caught.' — II, v, 19. * And now ' says Leo, * in this cruel hour, those fair, bright days recur to her memory, and it flashes on her that she is now, indeed, drawing up Anthony's very self, and in bitter, woeful jest, she says to Charmian, * Here's sport indeed ! ' Leo, with his unflinching honesty, acknowledges that he derived the first hint of this from Malone. but we know that it was only a hint. In conformity with his interpretation, Leo translates * Here's sport indeed ! * by * Nun angl' ich wieder ! ' — [It would be temerarious, indeed, to assert that Leo is wrong. We all know how frequent in Shakespeare are these subtle, fleeting allusions ; but for myself I doubt that Cleopatra is thinking of any particular occasion, and agree with Staunton that in this piteous cry of irony and of agony, we hear that all her laughter-loving life is come but to this. — Ed.]
45. heauinesse] Malone : This is here used equivocally for sorrow and weight.
320 THE TRACED IE OF [act iv, sc. xv.
They heaue Anthony aloft to Cleopatra. 50
And welcome, welcome. Dye when thou haft liu'd, Quicken with kifling : had my lippes that power, Thus would I weare them out.
AIL A heauy fight.
Ant. I am dying Egypt, dying. 55
Giue me fome Wine, and let me fpeake a little.
Cleo. No, let me fpeake, and let me rayle fo hye. That the falfe Hufwife Fortune, breake her Wheele, Prouok'd by my offence.
Ant. One word ('fweet Queene) 60
Of Ccefar feeke your Honour, with your fafety. Oh.
Cleo, They do not go together.
Ant. Gentle heare me, 63
50. They...] They draw Ant up to 58. Hu/wife\ housewife Mai. Steev. Cleop. Cap. et seq.
51. when\ Ff, Rowe, Coll. i. where 6l. fafety, "] safety — Rowe, + . Pope et cct. Oh.'\ Om. Han. ytm — Warb.
54. A'\ C?A Rowe, + . O^.'Rowe.
51. Dye when thou hast liu'd] Collier (ed. i) is the only editor, since Pbpe, who ventured to retain * when ' of the Folio, and even his courage deserted him before his Second Edition, He interpreted * Die, when thou hast liv'd ' as meaning * in consequence of being quickened, or restored, by my kissing thee.*
52. Quicken with kissing] Johnson : That is, revive by my kiss.
58. That the false . . . breake her Wheele] Johnson : This despicable line has occurred before. [Where ? The nearest approach to it that I can find is the one suggested by Malone, and it is in prose. * Let us sit and mock the good hous- wife, Fortune, from her wheel,' as Celia says to Rosalind. Knight quotes Johnson and then drily remarks, * There are not many such " despicable *' lines in /r«f/.'] — Staunton : * Huswife * is here used in the loose sense, which it often bore, of hussy, or harlot. So in Hen. V: V, i, Pistol asks, — * Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now?* — [I doubt that ' Huswife,' in Shakespeare's days, retained, to any large extent, the idea of a house-wife^ that is, one who devoted herself to household cares. It was an opprobrious epithet, rather than a literal one. Otherwise, we might infor that Shakespeare, at least here and in As You Like It, supposed that Fortune's wheel was a spinning-wheel. Possibly, in popular belief it was so, owing to some con- fusion with Clotho's distaff. Fluellen, however, had a perfectly correct idea of it * Fortune,' he says, * is painted also with a wheel to signify to you . . . that she is turn- ing, and inconstant, and mutability, and variation ; and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rolls, and rolls, and rolls.* — Hen. V: III, vi, 34. Why Fortune should have two similar symbols of revolution, it is hard to say. Both are found in early Etruscan times. Possibly, the wheel was merely an added emblem or badge of the tribe of Leucomones. See Creuzer, Symbolih, iii, 664, footnote. — Ed.]
ACT IV. sc. XV.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA
321
None about Cafar truft, but Proculeius.
Cleo. My Refolution, and my hands, He truft, None about Cafar.
Ant. The miferable change now at my end, Lament nor forrow at : but pleafe your thoughts In feeding them with thofe my former Fortunes Wherein I liued. The greateft Prince o^thVorld, The Nobleft : and do now not bafely dye. Not Cowardly put off my Helmet to My Countreyman. A Roman, by a Roman Valiantly vanquifliM. Now my Spirit is going, I can no more.
Cleo. Nobleft of men, woo^t dye ?
6s
70
75
64. /nj/?,] trust: Pope ii.
65. truft t"] trust; Theob. Warb. Johns. Mai. Steev. et seq.
70. liuid. The'] lived. The F.F,. liv'd. The F^, Rowe, Pope, liy'd; the Han. Cap. Var. '21. In/'d the Theob. Warb. Johns. Sing. KUy. /ivV, the Var. '78 et cet.
71. Nobleft : and do now nof] noblest cnce ; and do now not Rowe i. noblest once ; and now not Rowe ii, Pope, Han. molest once ; and do not now Theob. Warb.
now'\ Om. FjF^.
72. Not Cowardly\ Not Cowardly^
F^. Nor cowardly^'Rowt, Nor cowardly Pope, + , Knt, Coll. ii, Dyce ii, iii. Nor cowardly ; Var. '78, '85, Ran. Steev. Varr. Sing.
72. pui of] put of Fj. but doff SU. conj.
Helmet to] helmet ; to Cap.
73. Countreyman, "] Ff, Rowe, Pope. countryman: Theob. Han. Warb. Mai. Coll. ii. countryman^ Johns, et cet.
75. more."] more — Rowe, + . [Antony dies. Rowe. sinks. Cap.
76. menf"] men — Rowe. woo^t"] wou^t Cap. dye /] die, F^.
67, etc. The miserable change, etc.] Corson (p. 313) : Antony, in regard to himself, reposes overmuch, for our full sympathy, upon his past — [If a man is ever to be pardoned for being self-centred, surely it is when he is dying ; and Anthony needed the memory of every shred of his former greatness wherewith to obscure the ignominy of his present death. — Ed.]
74. Spirit] To modern ears, Walker's monosyllabic pronunciation of 'Spirit,' wonld be here intolerable. See I, ii, 143 ; and also line 109 of the present scene. —Ed.
76, etc. Noblest of men, etc.] Mrs Jameson (ii, 150) : Cleopatra's speech, after Antony has expired in her arms, I have always regarded as one of the most wonder- ful in Shakspeare. Cleopatra is not a woman to grieve silently. The contrast between the violence of her passions and the weakness of her sex, between her legal grandeur and her excess of misery, her impetuous, unavailing struggles with the fearful destiny which has compassed her, and the mixture of wild impatience and pathos in her agony, are really magnificent. She faints on the body of Antony, and is recalled to life by the cries of her women.
76. woo't dye] For *woo't,' see IV, ii, 11. ai
322 THE TRACED IE OF [act iv, sc xt.
Haft thou no care of me, (hall I abide 77
In this dull world, which in thy abfence is
No better then a Stye ? Oh fee my women :
The Crowne o'th'earth doth melt. My Lord ? 80
Oh withered is the Garland of the Warre,
The Souldiers pole is falne : young Boyes and Gyrles
Are leuell now with men : The oddes is gone,
And there is nothing left remarkeable
Beneath the Nifiting Moone. 85
Char. Oh quietnefte. Lady.
Iras. She's dead too, our Soueraigne.
Char. Lad>\
Iras. Madam.
Char. Oh l^dam. Madam, Madam. 90
Iras. Ro}^ £g>T^ • Emfveile.
77. Mr.] Mr/ Rove ct seq. S7. 3ktx\ ¥% Rove, Pope. Thcob.
79. [AbL dies. Qm^ IHce, Sta. G3o. WailiL Joins. Cam. She is Mjbi. Cape
Sa Mr LsrJfl Mr Ss^^':— Rove. 9QL Ifarfw, Mm^mm^ MmdMmL\ Umd-
Sx Siml&en\ sti&t^s IVipe. 91. E^yfi S\ j£gyfc! Rove.
f62me\ F,. fA2m F^F^ Rove. ^i^tngfr.] Is sepnate five,
JmJTm IVfK,-^, Ci^ V»t. IHce, Sta. ferral Opu Kdr. Is
Cas. fMSm MaL <f cet.* Emf^rssf Steer. Vair
Ss. [Slie kiMs. R«ve. IHce* Wk. Sta. S6l tfmtemgfi^ faasmrfe F,.
$0. ytj Ijord] Waixsil (Cnc*. £, 144) : Rcftd, «Mt lonl! m^ iW^.'* Svciy 1^ rqetitkai s rrcssred.
Sa. Sooldaen poSe] Ji.'«?Q)OCC : He aft v^obb ^e soldias pciaCed, as H a Vesld b^:^ ix cih!icrra:6acL — Bos^vn^: TW pole, I lif^aiAf tiA, is tke DdgrTv^' : Tbe wo9>d * marlaztd ^ a 1^ |jBtvkm Bus etideuli si^s'ested &e vonl * pci^^' Shjikes^ieaae vas^ limitds^ of 93se viQa{^ iiesriibes n vkkii a pole, tibe ceaftnl poiiA «f dM' Sfvirsss is doc3ce^ viidi ^v^an^ of £c»verL Tbcse laaj be also &e idea «f a <xm^»rDratf sn&rk Tcumi vinc^ ?^ seu^ers mxglB ttJlx. «s la Cerial^mmSy V, m, 7^ * Jdua t\»<« iiur$8 . . . sk^ r 'die vars^ L.^ a ^rcati sea-^ozk, staiKfin^ evcfy Aav^ Aiyd s&xis)^ i^«>*e liua c^ i^v^e ! ^^[DeisbiaB aafte alio bave said duit the («rl«Dd(«d viTm^ jviilc- jq^^fKac^ possibih-^ tbe "bovs aai ^pa^^ — Eix]
%. TSse oflftei is suae] Than -&, dseoe is »:<v »o looker azj ^aSen yMida a3>d -i^^v^ >i^ AXtc ki^r, rict ma^ poor. — ^Eix
S#. remaotesAkk] XTaixtk. ^ 4>xr. m. 31c : : Tbe vcad suD idanied ks V^pcal inrce. X^fi-rahir: wtrr^hi tr ms^ — STJbrisTCSs: Is SfcaVr sjiraie' ^ iMtd '*Tt*maa^jihU ' Vne -t isr mnre imjnts^vt ani a^ywjytiate iDeaixnig tkaa iridi Its. "h Tbrx. trpreswic sfC mtsreH- Ms^siaia «r mtiirwtmSkjf^ bat ssmagAin^ pR>-
ACT IV, sc. XV.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 323
Char^ Peace, peace, Iras. 92
Cleo. No more but in a Woman, and commanded
By fuch poo re pafTion, as the Maid that Milkes,
And doe^s the meaneft chares. It were for me, 95
92. Char. Peace... \x2k%.'\ Char. Peace 93. more but in a"] Ff, Johns, more
,,./ns. Warb. Om. Words. ^«/ a mere Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han.
92, 93. Char. Peace, „C[to. No"} Qco. Warb. more — du/ e'en a Johns, conj.
Peace, ..No Han. Cap. ct cct. (subs.)
92. [seeing her recover. Cap. 94. paJlfion'\ possums Cap. conj. Var.
93, 94, Mnemonic, Pope. '73. 93-108. Mnemonic, Warb.
92. Peace, peace, Iras] Warburton : Cleopatra is fallen into a swoon ; her maids endeavour to recover her by invoking her by her several titles. At length, Charmian says to the other, ' Peace, peace, Iras * ; on which Qeopatra comes to her- self, and replies to these last words, * No, you are mistaken, I am a mere woman like yourself.' Thus stands this senseless dialogue. But Shakespeare never wrote it so. We must observe then, that the two women call her by her several titles, to see which best pleased her; and this was highly in character; the Ancients thought, that not only men, but Gods too, had some names which, above others, they much delighted in, and would soonest answer to ; as we may see by the hymns of Orpheus, Homer, and Callimachus. The Poet, conforming to this notion, makes the maids say, Sovereign Lady, Madam, Royal Egypt, Empress. And now we come to the place in question : Charmian, when she saw that none of these titles had their effect, invokes her by a still more flattering one : ' Peace, peace, Isis ! * for so it should be read and pointed : 1. e. peace, we can never move her by these titles : Let us give her her favourite name of the Goddess Isis. And now Cleopatra's answer becomes pertinent and fine : ' No more but a mere woman,' etc. f. e. I now see the folly of assuning to myself those flattering titles of divinity. My misfortunes, and my impo- tence in bearing them, convince me I am a mere woman and subject to all the passions of the meanest of my s|>ecies. Here the Poet has followed history exactly, and what b more, his author Plutarch, who says, that Cleopatra assumed the habit and attributes of that Goddess, and gave judgements, or rather oracles to her people under the quality of the New Isis. — ^Johnson: Of this [foregoing note] it may be truly said, that it at least deserves to be right, nor can he, that shall question the justness of the emen- dation, refuse his esteem to the ingenuity and learning with which it is proposed. I suppose, however, that we may justly change the ancient copy thus, ' No more, but ^en a woman.' I am inclined to think that she speaks abruptly, not answering her woman, but discoursing with her own thoughts : *■ No more — but ^ en a woman. I have no more of my wonted greatness, but am even a woman, on the level with other women ; were I what I once was, it were for me to throw my scepter,' etc. * Peace, peace, Iras,' is said by Charmian, when she sees the Queen recovering, and thinks speech troublesome.
95. meanest chares] Murray (iV. E, D. s, v. Chare, sb}^ : II. Extant sense. 5. especially : An occasional turn of work, an odd job, especially of household work ; hence in plural the household work of a domestic servant. (The reg^ular phrase in the U. S. where the word has the form Chore, ) [The present passage is given as an example.]
324
THE TRACED IE OF
[act IV, SC. XV.
To throw my Scepter at the iniurious Gods,
To tell them that this World did equall theyrs,
Till they had ftolne our lewell. All's but naught :
Patience is fottifh, and impatience does
Become a Dogge that's mad : Then is it fmne,
To rufli into the fecret houfe of death,
Ere death dare come to vs. How do you Women /
What, what good cheere ? Why how now Chamnan ?
My Noble Gyrles ? Ah Women, women ! Looke
Our Lampe is fpent, it's out. Good firs, take heart,
96
100
105
96. Scepter] sceptre Knt et scq.
the iniurious] thHnjuriaus Pope, + .
^^Jiolne] F,. Jtoln F^F^, Rowe. stoirn Pope, + , Cap. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. (subs.) stolen Var. '73 ct cet
naught] nought F^, Rowe, Pope, Han. Ran. Sta.
102. vs.] us? Ff.
103. IVhat^ what good cheere?] Ff,
Rowe, Pope. IVhat, vthat^ good cheer ! Theob. Warb. IVhat ? what ? good cheer ! Han. What^ what. Good cheer ! Johns. Whaty what ? Good cheer / Cap. et cet. (subs.)
104. Gyrles ?] girls ! Cap. et seq.
105. Good Jirs, ,., heart,] Good sirs,... heart: — [to the Guard below. MaL Steev. Varr. Knt, Coll. Sing.
95> 96, etc. It were for me. To throw, etc.] Hudson : Cleopatra has been used to think herself and Antony so nearly equal with the gods, that the latter have no right to shut down so sternly upon them. — [I do not understand the passage in exactly this sense. I think that, possibly, Cleopatra's meaning is, that before the unjust gods bad stolen her jewel, this world equaled theirs, and her own emblem of sovereignty was as potent a symbol as any they wielded, but now that her jewel is gone, it is befitting in her to fling her sceptre at them to let them know how little she now esteems it, and how much she despises them. — Ed.]
99, 100. impatience does Become a Dogge, etc] It is, perhaps, superfluous to remark that this does not mean that impatience turns into a dog, but that impatience is befitting only in a dog that's mad. — Ed.
103, 104. What, what good cheere ? . . . My Noble Gyrles] This attempt at cheerfulness, the very last flickering of her sunny nature before it dies down for ever is, it seems to me, exquisitely pathetic. Under its influence she calls Iras and Charmian 'girls,' as her joyous companions of aforetime. But her woe and deso- lation overmaster her, and she again calls them * Women, women.' — Ed.
105. Good sirs, take heart] Dyce: Here to these words is usually added a stage-direction [first added by Malone] * To the Guard below ' / but by * sirs ' Qeo- patra means Charmian and Iras : — in V, ii, she says, ' Sirrah Iras, go.' That in former days women were frequently so addressed, is proved by numerous passages of our old writers: e.g. in Beaumont and Fletcher's Coxcomb, IV, iii, the Mother says to Viola, Nan, and Madge, ' Sirs, to your tasks, and show this little novice How to bestir herself,' etc. ; and presently after, Nan and Madge call each other
* Sirrah.* Again, in A King and no King, by the same dramatists, II, i, we find,
* Spaconia. I do beseech you, madam, send away Your other women, and receive
JiCT V, sc. i.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
325
WeeT bury him : And then, what's braue, what's Noble,
Let's doo't after the high Roman fafhion,
And make death proud to take vs. Come,away,
This cafe of that huge Spirit now is cold.
Ah Women, Women ! Come, we haue no Friend
But Refolution,and the breefeft end.
Exeunt^ bearing of Anthonies body.
106
IIO
112
\A£lus Quintus. Scene /.]
Enter Ca/ar ^ Agrippa j Dollabella y MenaSyWith
his Counfell of Warre.
C(Bfar. Go to him Dollabellay bid him yeeld. Being fo fruftrate, tell him, He mockes the pawfes that he makes.
5
106. what's Noble,'\ what Noble, F^Fj.
107. dooU^ F,. dot FjF^, Rowe. do it Pope et seq.
XI2. Exeunt...] Exeunt; those above bearing off the Body. Cap.
Scene VII. Rowe. Act V, Scene i. Fogeet seq.
Caesar's Camp. Rowe.
I. Menas] Mecsenas, Gall us, Theob. Mecsenas, Proculeius, Callus, Han.
1, 2. with.. .Wane.] Om. Rowe. and Train. Theob.
4, 5. Being. „makes,'\ Lines end, mocks ...makes. Han. Cap. Var. '78, '85, Dyce, Wh. Sta. Glo. Cam. Hal. Lines end, by... makes. Mai. Ran. Steev. Varr. Knt, Sing. Ktly. us... makes Coll. ii, iii.
4. frujirate'] fruftate F^. frustrated Cap. Var. '78, '85.
5. He mockes"] he but mocks Han. he mocks us by Mai. Ran. Steev. Varr. Knt, Coll. i, iii. Sing. Ktly. thcU he mocks us By Coll. ii.
from me A few sad words, which, set against your joys, May make 'em shine the more. Panthea, Sirs^ leave me all. [Exeunt Waiting*women.'
X. Menas] Theobald (ed. ii) : Menas and Menecrates, we may remember, were two famous pirates, linked with Sextus Pompeius, and who assisted him to infest the Italian coast. We nowhere learn expressly, in the play, that Menas ever attached himself to Octavius's party. Notwithstanding, the Ff concur in marking the entrance thns, yet, in the two places in the scene, where this character speaks, they have marked in the margin, Mec, so that, as Dr Thirlby [Nichols, Jllust. ii, 228] sagaciously conjectured, we must cashier ' Menas ' and substitute Meccenas in his room. [This change has been since then uniformly adopted.]
4, 5. Being so frustrate, tell bim, He mockes the pawses, etc.] Steevens { Variorum of 1 778) : • He mocks the pauses that he makes* means that he plays wmntonly with the intervals of time which he should improve to his own preservation. Or the meaning may be, — being thus defeated in all his efforts, and left without resource, tell him that these affected pauses and delays of his in yielding himself up to me, are mere idle mockery. * He mocks the pauses * may be a hcentious mode
326 THE TRACED IE OF [act v, sc. L
[4, 5. Being so frustrate, tell him, etc.] of expression for, — he makes a mockery of m by these pauses; u e, he trifles with us. — In the Variorum of 1785, Malonb expressed the belief that the defect in metre proved that some words had been omitted which would have rendered the line intelligible. < When Antony himself made these pauses, would he mock,* Malone asks, < or laugh at them ? and what is the meaning of mocking a pause f ' He there- fore conjectured that us by were the omitted words, and in his own later edition, in 1790, thus prints the line : ' Being so frustrate, tell him, he mocks us by The pauses,' etc. In this same edition of 1790 Malone rather disingenuously conveys the impression that the note by Steevens (quoted above), had been written after the line had been rendered intelligible by the emendation us by, I have, therefore, dated Steevens* s note to show that it was written before Malone had, in his own estimation, amended the line. In Steevens' s edition of 1793 appeared the following additional note by him : — I have left Malone's emendation in the text ; though, to complete the measure, we might read, — < frustrate^,* or ' Being so frustrate, tell him (hat he mocks/ etc. ; as I am well convinced we are not yet acquainted with the full and exact meaning of the verb mock^ as sometimes employed by Shakespeare. [From Collier (ed. ii) we learn that this change, suggested by Steevens, ' tell him that^ is also given by the MS. Collier thereupon remarks] : The expression to mock pctuses is far from intelligible ; and it seems pretty certain that the old printer made some con- fusion between 'mocks ' and makes^ words so much alike in old MSS. Malone added us by, and they appear necessary in order to render the sense clear ; at all events that object has been obtained, and the regularity of the verse preserved. — RiTSOK (Cursory Crit. p. ^') : The two last words \^us by*"] of this line are added by the present Irish editor, who observes that ' the defect of the metre/ of which he knows as much as a superannuated jack-ass, ' shows that something was omitted.* Former editors [see Text. Notes'\ supplied the measure by reading, ' Being so fru5trat^</, tell him he mocks * ; which , it must be confessed, does not afford an easy sense. Shake- speare, however, would never have written the above hobbling line [Malone's] which has no sort of pretensions to metre. We may read, < Being so frustrated, he mocks us by.' — [Knight reluctantly approves of Malone's emendation, and prints it in brackets in his text. R. G. White (ed. i) approves but does not adopL Hux>- SON approves heartily and adopts, and does ' not see how it is possible to strain any sense at all out of the original reading.' For my part, I think Steevens supplies us with a sense when he says, in effect, that Anthony's pauses, now that he is utterij vanquished, are a mockery. — Ed.
4. frustrate] Abbott (§ 342) gives a list of verbs, ending in -te, -/, and •i/, which <on account of their already resembling participles in their terminations, do not add -ed in the participle. . . . Words like ** miscreate," "create,** ** consecrate" [< frustrate '] being directly derived from Latin participles, stand on a different foot- ing, and may themselves be regarded as participial adjectives, with the addition of -</.' Walker ( Vers. 8) includes the present < frustrate ' in his list of words illustrating the rule that, 'Words such 2iS Juggler , tickling, kindling, England, angry, children, and the like are, — as is well known, — frequently pronounced by the Elizabethan poets as though a vowel were interposed between the liquid and the preceding mute.* Of the present line, he asks, < Can a good sense be made out of the original reading ? the play of words seems a very strong argument in its favour ; indeed, it seems impossible that this should be accidental. So — though it seems hardly worth while to accumu- late instances of the same word used in the same manner, — Massinger, Middleton,
Jicr V, sc. i.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
327
DoL Cce/ary I fhall.
Enter Deer etas with the /ward of Anthony.
Ccef. Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar^ft Appeare thus to vs?
Dec. I am callM Deer etas ^ Marke Anthony I feru'd, who bed was worthie Beft to be feruM : whil'ft he ftood vp, and fpoke He was my Mafter, and I wore my life To fpend vpon his haters. If thou pleafe To take me to thee, as I was to him, He be to Ccefar : if y pleafeft not, I yeild thee vp my life.
Ccefar. What is't thou fa/ft ?
Dec. I fay (Oh Ccefar) Anthony is dead.
Ccefar. The breaking of fo great a thing, fhould make A greater cracke. The round World
10
15
20
6. [Exit Dolabella. Theob. et seq.
7, 10 etc. Dccretas] Ff, Rowe. Der- ceUs Pope et seq.
15. thee^ thee ; Rowe. as l\as I asY^,
16. y\ thou Ff.
I,,Jife,'\ Separate line, F^ et seq. yeild^ yield Y^^.
17. fay/f^/ayffl F^, Rowe. 20-22. yf... Anthony] Lines end, j>i^>(
... Cf/»««w...^«/^«y Tbeob.Warb. Johns. Ran. Ktly, Coll. iii. Lines end, shook ... streets^ ... Antony Mai. Steev. Varr.
Coll. i, Wh. Hal.
20. cracke.'\ crack in nature, Han. Cap.
cracke. The round World ] crack ; The round world convulsive Sing. conj. crack in the round world Daniel, crack : and the rebounding world Bulloch. crack: the drowned world Sprenger. crack : the round world so bereft Words. crack : the round uproared world Huds. crack : the round world in rending Nich- olson ap. Cam. crack: the ruincUed world L. Campbell ap. Cam.
and Rowleys Old Law : * The law that should take away your old wife from you, ... Is void and frustrate ; so for the rest : ' etc. [Massinger's fVorks, vol. iv, p. 568, ed. Gifford, 1805.] * What we confirm the king will frustrate.' Marlowe's Edward II., — Works, p. 178, cd. Dyce, 1858.
6. I shall] Theobald : I make no doubt but it should be marked here that Dolla- bella goes out 'Tis reasonable to imagine he should presently depart upon Caesar's command ; so that the speeches placed to him in the sequel of this scene, must be transferred to Ag^rippa, or he is introduced as a mute. Besides, that DoUabella should be gone out, appears from this, that when Csesar asks for him, he recollects that he had sent him on business. [For this use of * shall ' for will, both here and in line 82, below, see, if need be, Abbott, § 315.]
9. Appeare thus to vs] Steevens : That is, with a drawn and bloody sword in thy hand.
13. I wore my life] Deighton : The figure is that of a dress worn for some special purpose, and also conveys the idea that to him life was as something external which could be put off at will, not an essential part of his being.
ao, 21. A greater cracke. The round World Should haue shooke Lyons
328 THE TRACED IE OF [act.v, sc. i.
Should haue fhooke Lyons into ciuill ftreets, 21
And Cittizens to their dennes. The death oi Anthony Is not a fingle doome, in the name lay A moity of the world.
Dec. He is dead Cafar^ 2$
Not by a publike minifter of luftice, Nor by a hyred Knife, but that felfe-hand Which writ his Honor in the A£ls it did, Hath with the Courage which the heart did lend it, Splitted the heart. This is his Sword, 30
22. /<7]i»/(>Thcob.Warb. Johns. Ran. 30. Splitted the Aeart,} SpliUed the Ktly. heart itself Han. Cap. SpHt that self
23. the'\ that Popc, + , Cap. Var. '73. noble heart Coll. ii (MS). Splitted the 27. ICnifet'\ knife : Rowe ct seq. heart. Casar, or Splitted that very heart.
felfe-hand '\ self hand Cap. Var. Elzc. '78 ct seq.
into ciuill streets] Johnson : I think here is a line lost, after which it is in vain to go in quest. The sense seems to have been this : * The round world should have shook/ and this great alteration of the system of things should send ' lions into streets, and citizens into dens.' There is sense still, but it is harsh and violent. — Steevens: I believe we should read, *A greater crack than this: The ruin'd world,' f. e. the general disruption of elements should have shook^ etc. Shakespeare seems to mean that the death of so great a man ought to have produced effects similar to those which might have been expected from the dissolution of the universe, when all distinctions shall be lost. Perhaps, however, Shakespeare might mean nothing more here than merely an earthquake, in which the shaking of the round world was to be so violent as to toss the inhabitants of woods into cities and the inhabitants of cities into woods. — M alone : The defect of the metre strongly sup- ports Dr Johnson's conjecture, that something is lost. Perhaps the passage origin* ally stood thus : < The round world should have shook ; Thrown hungry lions into civil streets,' etc. . . . The words omitted were perhaps in the middle of the line, which originally might have stood thus in the MS : ' Lions been hurtled into civil streets,' etc. — Tyrwhitt: The sense, I think, is complete and plain, if we consider * shook ' (more properly shaken) as the participle past of a verb active, — [That there is here an omission is also the opinion of Collier, Dyce, R. G. White, Staunton, Deighton, Rolfe, and of Walker (see IV, viii, 9). But as the meaning is per- fectly clear, and forcibly expressed, for my part, the tears live in an onion that shall water the sorrow for any loss. — Ed.]
27. selfe-hand] See Abbott, § 20.
30. Splitted the heart] Collier (ed. ii) : This line cannot be right, for although < splitted ' might be allowed on the score of < splitted in the midst,' and * splitted my poor tongue* in the Comedy of Errors^ yet the line is otherwise defective, and the MS gives it * Split that self noble heart This is his sword,* which we cannot but persuade ourselves is right, seeing that just above we have * that self-hand * in the same way that we have ' self noble heart * in the line in question as amended. The
ACT V, sc. i.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
329
I robbM his wound of it : behold it ftainM With his mod Noble blood.
Ccb/. Looke you fad Friends, The Gods rebuke me, but it is Tydings To wafli the eyes of Kings.
DoL And ftrange it is. That Nature muft compell vs to lament Our moft perfifted deeds.
Mec, His taints and Honours, wag'd equal with him.
31
35
39
31. wcum/'] Morf a/ wound Vfordsu
33. you fad Friends y'\ F^. yoUyfad friends^ F^F^, Rowc, Pope, you sad, friends^ Theob. et cet.
34. it is Tydings"] it tidings is Ktly. Tydings"] a Tydings F,. a Tid- ings F,F^, Cap. Var. '78, '85, Ran. Steev. Var. *03, * 13, Dycc ii, iii, Coll. iii. a tiding Rowc, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
36, 40. Do!.] Agr. Theob. et seq.
37. mu/i compell] most compels Sta.
conj. {AtAen, 26 Apr. 1873.) 39»43- Mec] Men. F^F^, Rowe,Pope. 39. ivag'd] Knt, Dyce, Sta. way Fj. may F^F^. weighed Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han.Warb. Cap. Coll. ii, iii (MS). wagged Anon, (Gent. Mag, 1 790, Ix, p. 126.) UMX^^^ Johns, et cet.
wa^d,.,him] Separate line, Pope et seq.
with Aim.] in Aim, Rowe, + .
change adds much force and grace to the tribute Dercetas is paying to his dead, master.
33. Looke you sad Friends] Theobald : It is requisite to transpose the comma [after ' you ' in Pope's edition, and place it after < sad * ; because] Octavius's friends would probably avoid showing any concern on the news of Antony's death, lest it should give displeasure to Cxsar ; which Csesar observing, it shows a noble humanity in him to bid them share in such a sorrow, and to tell them it is a calamity that ought to draw tears even from the eyes of Princes. Young Prince Henry, upon his father's death, speaks just in the same manner to his brothers ; and tho' he would not have them mix fear with their affliction, he encourages them in their sorrow — ' Yet be sad, good brothers. For, by my faith, it very well becomes you.' — 2 Hen. IV: V, ii, 49.
34. but it is Tydings] Johnson : That is, may the gods rebuke me, if iAis be not tidings to make kings weep. * But ' again, for if not. [Johnson probably here refers to III, xi, 50, which see, and also IV, xi, 2. * Tidings ' has already been used as a singular noun in *this tidings* IV, xiv, 137 ; which justifies those editors who prefer the reading of F^, if they need any justification.— Ed.]
35. To wash the eyes of Kings] Craik (p. 194) : * Wash,* an Anglo-Saxon word (preserved also in the German wascAen)^ is used in what is probably its primi- tive sense of immersing in or covering with liquid. Thus we say to wasA with gold or silver.
36. Dol. And, etc.] Daniel (p. 83) : I would continue this speech to Caesar, and, in line 38, for * perfifted* would read, pcrfited. — Hudson accepted this dis- tribution of speeches; 'surely,' he says, 'this speech comes more fitly from Caesar' [than from Agrippa, to whom it had been assigned by Theobald].
39. wag'd equal with him] Steevfns : It is not easy to determine the precise meaning of the word wage. In OtAello, it occurs again : * To wake, and wage a
330 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act v. sc i.
Lhta^ A Rarer fpirit neoer 40
Did ftcere humanity' : but you Gods will giac vs Some &ults to make vs men. Qzfar is toach*d.
JAnr. Wlien luch a fpacious Mirror^s fet before Yaaiy He needes mull fee faim felie.
C^far^ Oh Amthmjy 45
I haue followed thee to this^ but we do I^pnrh Dtieaies in our Bodies. I murl perforce Haue tbewTK to thee fuch a declfnfng dzv% Or looke oa thine : we could not fell together. In the whole world. But yet let me lamienc 50
4^ 4" ftOKrT /*7r R?ce. ^. E^cs lu oL Fope;. HiiiL mmci Man * CciL "^^ 4a. ^«sr^ uaarx
tdn^tr TBQodffiB..^ ^ iu 5^*. of :&:$ «L* with. antsT^ Ir
TW sense wol i&aL ':hs» " ic^ smus jm£ luouurs mm^ m tsoxaL Tmnrfi/ £ e.
JL Onti^ ^5^-" ''iiiiis 3sr n^mos ^&QUPe£ Ti iie » ^aaat. de
^B«iiQ«^ v^r ±. — TA:^ vsmmaas^ :ias Tusann^ rbxsR is- Ime n
^wyi. :£ ^«Kt «S99t 9«|.'r It t&f :3ense it ifiamam^.
'•X^ ^«s^jr i^«ii»c Ar «initi9>^ it tois -wr' HL 3^ xm . Ir » n
jCfhrihsmr lew jo^iIb-w. JMrrar- 2eatr irr^irrfmm .szl 3IIi£
«. ^«(itt:" ?<ir :nis «« ^ - -m^^ ivsonia: ifejwrrr | «^ Sir ^fu -««? H. *. "•'i
#^. :^itH:" ?^-fr ^&s Tnammizattufi;. lesc x ns^rTlnaie^ assr I. i^ \jQ^
tftit 4uv*tmt^ «ni « ^aU. iie "^m^jsr -xrmaxaesmimu n: TatLs^ SUlju- m^««ns )■& «f .'imntj^ft^ 3hr ,rtiii&«^ it~ nuuhsik wmsi: *tt«7 ivns riifhraiW s. satrap 11JIJ&. ** I
^ ic^l*4!l»Qmi;9mr. llir^ lum^^iitf rmtfir tit: mcr -gsasvaatat^ ^i& xmxi. saaateL
^|r «t ^pQ^r ts 7v»h;r, tt- ine '^^ tmk. two -l lattr. iT ^umaeF ►. As
"Whu^ t mlvaw«^^4» ^nte^ ^mt wc ^iincs^ ^ lao^vs^ taws XOL tjK tim. ms^ -mt ^ \m ow
<^i«n tvcrtmr "Si^H^c^ !I )«*•«; «BP«(r««3'i: iac^ wlgp tm=r onK smTic ^ «^-'MiTt* I
^ «lh!«)liliil||: 41185" >«*( ^Ti, ^ti* 5^
ACT V, sc. i.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
331
With teares as Soueraigne as the blood of hearts^ That thou my Brother, my Competitor, In top of all defigne ; my Mate in Empire, Friend and Companion in the front of Warre, The Arme of mine owne Body, and the Heart Where mine Jiis thoughts did kindle; that our Starres Vnreconciliable, (hould diuide our equalneffe to this. Heare me good Friends, But I will tell you at fome meeter Seafon, The bufmefle of this man lookes out of him, Wee^l heare him what he fayes.
Enter an Egyptian, Whence are you ?
^gyp* A poore Egyptian yet, the Queen my miftris
51
55
60
64
51. Soueraigne\ Saver agin F^. 53. defigne ;'\ design^ Rowe ct seq.
56. his\ its Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. kindle;'] kindle,-- Cap. Var. '78
et seq.
57. Vnreconciliable'\ unreconcilable F . unreconcileable F^.
diuide"] have divided Pope, Tbeob. Warb, Johns.
57. 58. our,.. Friends y] One line, Pope et seq.
58. Friends^] friends — Han. Johns, et seq. (subs.)
59. Seafon y] Ff, Johns, season — Rowe, Pope, season. Theob. et cet.
61-63. lVee'l...you^'] One line, Rowe
et seq.
62. Enter...] Ff. After ^w? line 63, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. After Friendsy line 58, Wh. Sta. Cam. After Seafon^ line 59, Johns, et cet.
i^gyptian.] Messenger. Cap. Mai. Var. '21, Knt.
63. Whence] Now whence Han. Whence y and who Steev. conj.
you /] youy sir ? Cap. you f What ? Walker.
64. yet] Om. Cap.
yety the] Ff, Rowe i. yet; the Rowe ii, -^ , Varr. Ran. yet. The Theob. Mai. et seq.
52. Competitor] That is, colleague. See I, i, 21 ; I, iv, 5.
53. In top of all designe] That is, in all our highest ambitions.
56. his thoughts] The use of its had not yet become universal ; else it would liave been used here. In introducing it Pope ran a little before the years.
57. should diuide our equalnesse to this] Johnson : That is, should have made OS, in our equality of fortune, disagree to a pitch like this, that one of us must die.
61. heare him what he sayes] For other examples of a redundant object, see Abbott, 5 4*4-
64. Egyptian yet,] Johnson : If this punctuation be right [Theobald's], the man means to say that he is yet an ^Egyptian, that is, * yet a servant of the Queen of B^gypt,* though soon to become a subject of Rome. — Staunton : * Yet,* that is, merw. — Deighton : Perhaps the meaning is ' one who, though conquered, still boasts himself an Eg^yptian.' — ^John Hunter: I apprehend Cleopatra to be the 'poor Egyptian,' and that the line should be written thus: ' A poor Egyptian, yet the queen ID J mistress ' ; where ' yet ' means Imt not Uss. — [I think that there is much more to
332
THE TRACED IE OF
[act V, sc. i.
ConfinM in all, (lie has her Monument
Of thy intents, defires, inftru6lion,
That fhe preparedly may frame her felfe
To'thVay (hee^s forc'd too.
Cafar. Bid her haue good heart,
She foone Ihall know of vs, by fome of ours,
How honourable, and how kindely Wee
Determine for her. For Ccefar cannot leaue to be vngentle ^gypt. So the Gods preferue thee. Exit,
Ccef. Come hither Proculeius. Go and fay
We purpofe her no (hame : giue her what comforts
The quality of her paffion (hall require ;
Leaft in her greatnefle, by fome mortall ftroke
She do defeate vs. For her life in Rome,
Would be etemall in our Triumph : Go,
And with your fpeedieft bring vs what fhe fayes.
65
70
75
80
65. tf//y ,..M&nument'\ allsht haSy her Monument y Rowe et seq.
66. intents y defires y'\ Ff, Rowe i. in- teniSy desires Rowe ii. intents desires Pope et seq.
68. too.^ F,.
7 1 . honaurabW^ honourably Pope, + , Cap. Van. Ran. Wh. ii.
kindely\ kindly Ff.
72. Determine"] Determin* d have Ca.'p. For"] Om. Words.
leaue... vngentle']¥{y'Ro'w^\. leave
to be gentle, (as one line) Cap. learn to be ungentle. Tyrwhitt, Dyce, Words, live to be ungentle. Rowe ii et cet
72. to be tmgentW] Separate line, Pope et seq.
vngentle"] Ff. ungentle. Rowe et seq.
73. So] Om. Rowe ii. May Pope, Theob. Han. Warb.
77. Leafi] F,. Lejl F.F^. 79. eternall in] eternaJling Thirlby, Han. Cap.
be said in favour of this interpretation than against it. It sounds very like a propitia- tory message such as Cleopatra, on this occasion, would send ; and accords with the assertion that the Monument is now all that she p>ossesses. Moreover, Caesar's ques- tion is *lVhence tLTcyoM?* not *W4^areyou?* — this almost necessitates Hunter's interpretation. — Ed.]
71. How honourable] See < 'Tis noble spoken/ II, ii, 115. It may be, how- ever, that the termination -ly, attached to * kindly,' is supposed to be effective for 'honourable' also. See Walker (Crit. i, 218), or Abbott (§ 397), or Schmidt (Lex. p. I419, 6).
72. Cssar cannot leaue] Collier (ed. i) : This was altered to live by Southeniy in his copy of F^. He anticipated Pope [Rowe, ed. ii] in a change, which, if not made, would directly contradict the poet's meaning. — Dyce : I adopt the correction made by Tyrwhitt in his copy of F, in the British Museum.
78, 79. her life in Rome, Would be etemall, etc.] Johnson : 'The sense is, * If she dies here, she will be forgotten, but if I send her in triumph to Rome, her memory and my glory will be eternal.'
ACTV. sciL] AXTHOXy A\D CLEOPATRA 333
And how yoa findc of her. Si
/V». Og/ar I flialL Ext Plnoniams.
QbJ. GoUms, go jxMi along : mba€s DolaidLu, to le- cond ProcmUiats'>
M. DoLMbcOA. SS
Caf. Let him alooe : for I remember now How bee's imployd : be (hall in time be ready. Go with me to my Tent, where you (ball fee How hardly I was drawne into this Wane, How cabne and gentle I proceeded ftill 90
In all my Writings. Go with me, and fee What I can (hew in this. Exnmt, 92
[Scene //.]
Enter CUopatra^ Charmaan^ IraSy and Mardiam.
Cleo. My defolation does begin to make A better life : lis paltry to be Ca/ar : Not being Fortune, bee's but Fortunes knaue, A minifter of her will : and it is g^eat 5
To do that thing that ends all other deeds,
81. you] yarn F^ 88. 7>it/,] trmt; Cap. et seq.
Zy.aUng:] aUmg ; [Exit Ganns. Scene VIII. Rowc Scene II. Fbpe
Hmn. et seq. et seq.
83, 84. tojecomd Piocnleiiis] Separate The Monument Rowe.
line. Pope et seq. i. and Mardian.] Mardian, and Se>
85. All.] Agr. Mec Mai. et seq. leocos. Rowe. Om. Cap. et seq.
(except Coll.) 6. deeds,] deeds ; TheoK et seq.
81. yoo fiade of her] For other examples, where ' of means cotuemimg^ aicmt^ Me Abbott, { 174, or Fkaxz, { 364, or I, iv, 81.
1. Enter Cleopatra, etc.] Dyce (ed. ii) : When the plaj was originallr acted, they all entered here (as in scene xv. of the preceding act) on what was called the upper-stage ; hut how the hosiness of the present scene was managed after the seixure of Qeopatra, I cannot pretend to determine.
2, 3. My desolation . . . better life] Words, as significant as they are pathetic — Ed.
4. Fortnnes knaue] Johnson : That is, the serrant of fortune.
6-9. To do that thing . . . and Caesars] Wa&burton : The action of suicide is here said to shackle accidents ; to bolt up change ; to be the beggar*s nurse and Caesar's. So far the description is intelligible. But when it is said that it sleeps and never palates more the dung, we find neither sense nor propriety : which is occasioned by the loss of a whole line between the third and fourth, and the corrupt reading of
334
THE TRACED IE OF
[act V, sc. iL
Which fhackles accedents, and bolts vp change; Which fleepes, and neuer pallates more the dung, The beggers Nurfe, and Ca/ars.
7. accedents"] accidents Ff. accident Anon. ap. Cam.
change;"] change, Rowe, Pope, Han.
8. Which ... dung] ( IVhich ... dugg:) Warb.
8, 9. Which...The] IVhich makes us sleep f nor palate more the dug OUh^ Han.
8. pallates] pallats Ff, Rowe, Pope. palates Theob.
dung] Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. ii, Johns. Cap. Varr. Mai. Ran. Sleev. Varr.
Knt, Coll. Del. Sing. Wh. i, KUy, Cowden-Clarke, Huds. Rife, Irving. dugg Warb. Theob. i. dug Han. Djrce, Coll. ii, iii (MS), Sta. Glo. Cam. Hunter, Din, Wh. ii. wrong Cartwright tongue B. Nicholson {N, &* Qu, III, vii, 395, 1865).
8, 9. dung ... Nurse] doom ... curse Bailey.
9. 7^] Of the Ktly conj.
9, 20, 57. beggers] beggar's F^F^.
the last word in the fourth. We should read the passage thus : * And it is great To do the thing that ends all other deeds; Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change ; [Lulls wearied nature to a sound repose ;] Which sleeps, and never palates more the dugg: The beggar's nurse and Caesar's.' That this line in hooks was the substance of that lost, is evident from its making sense of all the rest : which are to this effect. * It is great to do that which frees us from all the accidents of humanity, lulls our over- wearied nature to repose ( which now sleeps and has no more appetite for worldly enjoyments), and is equally the nurse of Caesar and the beggar.' — Seward (Note on The False One, IV, ii, p. 139) : When we speak in contempt of anything, we generally resolve it into its first principles : Thus, man is dust and ashes, and the food we eat, the dung, by which first our vegetable, and from thence our animal, food is nourished. Thus Cleopatra finding she can no longer riot in the pleasures of life, with the usual workings of a disappointed pride, pretends a disgust to them, and speaks in praise of suicide [as in the present lines]. From the observations above, nothing can be clearer than this passage : < both the b^gar and Caesar are fed and nursed by the dung of the earth.' Of this sense there is a demonstration in [I, i, 48]. — Heath (p. 466) : That is, which sleeps, and hath no further relish for the trash and dung of this earth, which dung is equally necessary to the support of Caesar, as of the meanest beggar. In what sense Warburton could understand death to be equally the nurse of Caesar and the beggar, or indeed to be the nurse of either, is inconceivable. — Capell (i, 49) : The sentiment in line 8 is not unlike one in I, i, 48, and the expressions which that is couch'd in, shew plainly what 'dung' means in this line, viz. — the earth, and it's dungy productions ; and to mark her contempt of them, and of Qesar too at the same time, she calls them — the nourses or nourishers both of him and the beggar. — ^Johnson : The difficulty of the passage, if any difficulty there be, arises only from this, that the act of suicide, and the state which is the effect of suicide, are confounded. Voluntary death, says she, is an act which bolts up change; it produces a state, * Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung. The beggar's nurse and Caesar's.' Which has no longer need of the gross and terrene sustenance, in the use of which Caesar and the beggar are on a level. The speech is abrupt, but perturbation in such a state is surely natural. — Boswell: *The beg> gar*s nurse and Caesar's' means, I apprehend, 'death ' (as Warburton has observed), and not, as Johnson supposed, the gross substance on which Caesar and the beggmr were fed. — [Knight agrees with Boswell that the 'beggar's nurse is, unquestionably.
ACTV. sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 335
Enter Proculeiu^. 10
Pro. Ca/ar fends greeting to the Queene of Egypt,
10. Enter...] Enter... and Gallus be- Soldiers, at the Door of the Monument, low. Han. Enter... and Gallus, with without. Cap.
death.'] — Collier (ed. ii) : This [dug] is an admirable, though merely literal emendation in the MS. What Cleopatra says is, that self-destruction prevents all change, and no longer requires, or * palates ' the dug, which affords nutriment to all mankind, whether high or low. — Dyce (ed. ii) : To me the word < nurse ' is almost alone sufficient evidence that * dung* is a transcriber's or printer's mistake for dug, — which was the more liable to be corrupted, as it was formerly often spelt dugge (so the folio has, in Rom. &*Jul. I, iii, * on the nipple of my Dugge ' ). The sense I conceive to be, ' and never more palates that dug which affords nourishment as well to the beg- gar as to Caesar.' — Anon. (Blackwood^ Oct. 1853, P* 4^) • The sense probably is, — ' It is great to do the thing (suicide) which causes us to sleep, and never more to taste the produce of the earth, which nourishes alike Caesar and the beggar. The MS correction [Warburton's] certainly does not mend matters. This reading affords no extrication of the construction, < which sleeps,' which we have ventured to explain as * which hys us asleep, and causes us never more to palate or taste,' etc. — R. G. White (ed. i) : As I am unable to discern what is the dug which is 'the beggar's nurse and Caesar's,' and as the word in the text is expressive of the speaker's bitter disgust of life, I make no change. — Staunton : ' Dung' for dug is an obvious mis- print, though not wanting defenders. — Hudson : < Nurse ' appears to be used here for nourishnunt. Cleopatra is speaking contemptuously of this life, as if anything that depends upon such coarse, vulgar feeding were not worth keeping. But Cleopatra has ix^ytT palated the dug since she was a baby ; and the sense of the passage clearly requires some contemptuous word for the common supports of human life, as such, — the food she has to palate every day. — Deighton : That is, which produces a state in which one sleeps a lasting sleep and has no need to taste the dug by which poor and rich, great and small, are nourished, i, e. no need of the sustenance of life. . . . There seems a considerable difference between speaking of the earth as fertilized by manure into furnishing food, and a human being feeding on dung. — Irving Edition : It seems more natural to suppose that the word * dung ' is simply a p>eriphrasis for the fruits of the fertilizing earth, used, certainly in a spirit of bitter mockery and supreme contempt. — Thiselton (p. 25) : A reminiscence of Anthony's words in I, i, 48. Nowhere are such reminiscences used with more effect than in the close of this trag- edy where they suggest the integrity of Cleopatra's attachment to Anthony. Shake- speare meant us to leave Cleopatra, notwithstanding her failings, with feelings of sympathy and admiration, and that our last thoughts should be of < the glory of her womanhood.' — [There is a strength in the very coarseness of the word *dung' which, to me, strongly commends it. Only a poet, strong in his own strength, and conscious of his own supremacy, and * nearness to the eternal verities,' would have dared to use it. This elemental vigour is, to me, wholly lacking in Warburton's substitution. Surely it does not need either natural death or suicide to cause us to cease from palating the dug. The palating of it ceases with weaning. It is while we palate it, before we are weaned, that an aversion to it can be created. When we cease to have any love for it, death can then produce no aversion. In order, there- fore, to change love for the dug into indifference to it, should not suicide be restricted to babes at the breast? — Ed.]
336
THE TRACE DIE OF
[act V, sa iL
And bids thee fhidy on what &ire demands Thou mean'ft to haue him grant thee.
Cleo. What's thy name ?
Pro. My name is Proculeius.
Cleo. Anthony Did tell me of you, bad me truft you, but I do not greatly care to be deceiuM That haue no vfe for trufting. If your I Mailer Would haue a Queece his begger, you mud tell him. That Maieily to keepe decorum^ mud | No lefle begge then a Kingdome : If he pleafe To giue me conquered Egypt for my Sonne, He giues me fo much of mine owne, as J Will kneele to him with thankes.
Pro. Be of good cheere : Y'are falne into a Princely hand, feare nothing. Make your full reference freely to my Lord, Who is fo full of Grace, that it flowes ouer On all that neede. Let me report to him Your fweet dependacie, and you (hall finde A Conqueror that will pray in ayde for kindnefle.
12
IS
20
25
30
32
14, 16, 34. Qeo.] Geo. [within.] Mai. Steer. Varr. Knt, Sing. Ktly.
14. thy\ the F^.
15. My\ May F,.
1 7. bad ] bade Theob. ii, Warb. Johns. Var. *73 ct seq.
20. Queece] F,.
21. decomm] Ff, Rowe, + . decorum Cap.
24. or /] and I M. Mason.
25. kneeW] kneel for Han. thankes\ thanks for Cap. conj.
Ktly.
27. Vare] Ff, Sing.Wh. KUy. You're Rowe, + , Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. You are Cap. et cet.
faine"] F,. fain F^F^, Rowe, Pope. faJ*n Theob. + , Cap. D^, Sta. Gla Cam. fallen Var. '73 et ceL
28. reference"] reverence Words.
29. fo] Om. F F^.
31. dependaci/] F,.
32. pray in] pray^ in Pope, Theob. 1.
17-19. but I do not greatly ... for trusting] Hudson: Qeopatra is exceed- ingly shrewd and artful in this : To throw Proculeius off his guard, she gives him to understand that she is pretty much indifferent whether he be true or not. That is just the thing to make Cxsar feel sure of having her at his command, and so he will be less secret as to his purpose, or what he means to do with her ; which is what she most of all desires to learn.
32. that will pray in ayde for kindnesse] Hanmer : ' Praying in aid ' is a term used for a petition made in a court of justice for the calling in of help from another that hath an interest in the cause in question. — Capell (i, 49) : This means, — who is even ready to pray those to accept of his kindness and grace, who ask it sub-
ACTV, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA
Where he for grace is kneel'd too.
Cleo. Pray you tell him, I am his Fortunes Vaflall, and I fend him The Greatnefle he has got. I hourely leame A Doflrine of Obedience, and would gladly Looke him i'th'Faqe.
Pro. This He report ( deere Lady) Haue comfort, for I know your plight is pittied Of him that causM it.
Pro. You fee how eafily fhe may be furpriz'd
337 33
35
40
42
33. too\ F.. to FjF^.
35. fend Aim'] bend to Han.
38. x'M'] VtheOm^. et scq.
41, 42. caused it. Pro. You\ caw^d it. Fare you well. — [Aside.] Hark Callus !
You Cap. caused it, [Aside.] Y&u Johns. Van.
42. [Here Gallus, and Guard, ascend the Monument by a Ladder, and enter at a back-window. Theob. Warb. Johns. Here Proculeius, and two of the guard, ascend the Monument by a Ladder placed against a window, and having descended, come behind Qeopatra. Some of the
guard unbar and open the gates. Mai. et seq. (subs.) ...the gates, discovering the lower room of the Monument. Cowden-CIarke.
42. Pro. Kw] Gal. [Aside to Pro.] You Cowden-CIarke.
42, 43. Pro. You,../urprv^d : Cuard ...come."] Char. You„,furprii^ d : Cuard ,,,come. Ff, Rowe. Char. You ...sur- prised. Pro. Cuard. „come. Pope. Gall. You , , . surprise d. Pro. Cuard , . . come. Theob. Han. Warb. [Aside.] Cap, Var. '78, '85. Gall. You.,.surprv^d, Cuard ...Come, Mai. et cet.
missively. — Hudson : The meaning is, when you sue to him for mercy, as to a superior, he will sue for your kindness as an ally, and as having an interest in com- mon with him.
35 f 36. I send him The Greatnesse he has got] Capell (i, 49) : Homage of great people to persons greater than them, was (and still is), in many countries, accompany'd with presents : Cleopatra, in her reply, acknowledges herself Caesar*s vassal, and that she ow'd him homage as such ; but that, having nothing in way of present to send him, she sent him his own greatness ; intimating — that he was master of hers, and of the fortunes of all the world, and could not be disturbed in them. — Johnson : I allow him to be my conqueror ; I own his superiority with complete submission. — M. Mason : Johnson has mistaken the meaning of this passage, nor will the words bear the construction he gives them. It appears to me, that by the great- ness he has got, she means her crown which he has won ; and I suppose that when she pronounces these words, she delivers to Proculeius either her own crown, or some other ensign or royalty. — [I prefer Johnson's interpretation, which is, substantially, that of Capell. — Ed.]
42. Malone : In the old copy there is no stage-direction. That which is now inserted [see Text. Notes'] is formed on the old translation of Plutiurch : * Proculeius came to the gates that were very thicke & strong, and surely barred, out yet there were some cranewes through the which her voyce might be heardy and so they without vnderstood, that Cleopatra demaunded the kingdome of Egypt for her sonnes : and that Proculeius aunswered her, that she should be of good cheare, and not be affrayed 22
338 THE TRACED IE OF [act v, sc. ii.
Guard her till CcB/ar come. 43
43. Guard'\ [Aloud to Pro.] Guard hind, Procaleios, and Soldiers, hastily. Cowden-Qarke. Cap. come. Exit. Var. '78, '85. come,
come.] [come. Exit Proculeius. Gal- To Proculeius and the guard. Exit Cal- lus maintains converse with Cleopatra. lus. Mai. Re-enter, into the Monument, from be- to referre all vnto Casar, After he had viewed the place very well, he came and reported her answere vnto Caesar. Who immediatly sent Callus to speake once againe with her, and bad him purposely hold her with talke, whilest Proculeius did set vp a ladder against that high window, by the which Antonius ivas trised vp, and came downe into the monument with two of his men hard by the gate, where Cleopatra stood to heare what Callus sayd vnto her. One of her women which was shut in her monumSts with her, saw Proculeius by chance as he came downe, and shreeked out, O poore CleopcUra, thou art taken. Then when she saw Proculeius behind her as she came from the gate, she thought to haue stabbed her selfe in with a short dagger she wore of purpose by her side. But Proculeius came sodainly vpon her, and taking her by both the hands, sayd vnto her. Cleopatra, first thou shalt do thy selfe great wrong, and secondly vnto Casar: to depriue him of the occasion and oportunitie, openly to shew his bountie and mercie, and to giue his enemies cause to accuse the most curteous and noble Prince that euer was, and to appeache him, as though he were a cruell and mercilesse man, that were not to be trusted. So euen as he spake the word, he tooke her dagger from her, and shooke her clothes for fcare of any poyson hidden about her.* — [See Appendix, Plutarch. I have not recorded in the Text. Notes all the stage-directions given by the early editors in their vain reachings after those which would satisfy all requirements ; nor have I recorded all the minor variations of the modem editors. For my own part, I see no need of any stage-direction at all. It is, at least for me, quite sufficient to see that the Romans rush in and seize the Queen. In these thrilling moments, how they got in, I neither know nor care. Nor does any one in the audience ever know how they entered, and would not know, unless the stage-manager came forwavd and read aloud Plutarch, or Malone's directions. — Ed.]
42, 43. Pro. You see how easily . • . Csesar come] The Ff, followed by Rows and Pope, give this speech to Charmian. Theobald, however, attributed this distribution to the two latter editors, and remarks : This blunder was for want of knowing, or observing, the historical fact. When Caesar sent Proculeius to the queen, he sent Callus after him with new instructions ; and while one amused Qeo- patra with propositions from Caesar, through the crannies of the monument, the other scaled it by a ladder, entered it at a window backward, and made Qeopatra, and those with her, prisoners. I have reformed the passage, therefore (as, I am per- suaded, the author designed it), from the authority of Plutarch. — Johnson: This line, in the first edition, is given to Proculeius ; and to him it certainly belongs, though perhaps misplaced. I would put it at the end of his foregoing speech : ' Where he for grace is kneel'd to. Aside to Callus. You see how easily she may be surprized * ; Then, while Cleopatra makes a formal answer, Gallus, upon the hint given, seizes her, and Proculeius, interrupting the civility of his answer : * — your plight is pitied Of him that cans' d it,' cries out: 'Guard her till Caesar come.* — Malonk: It is clear, from the passage quoted from Plutarch in the preceding note, that this ['/V^.'] was an error of the compositor's at the press, and that it belongs to Gallus; who.
ACT V, sc. u.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA 339
Iras. Royall Queene.
Char. Oh Cleopatra^ thou art taken Queene. 45
Cleo. Quicke, quicke^ good hands.
Pro. Hold worthy Lady, hold : Doe not your felfe fuch wrong, who are in this Releeu'd, but not betraid. 49
44. RoyaU'\ d> r^a/ Theob. + , Cap. ger. The Monument is open'd; Pro. Ktly. rushes in and disarms the Queen. Theob.
QweruJl Queen — Han. 47. [staying her. Cap. Seizes and
45. taken\ taken, Rowe ii. disarms her. Mai.
46. hands. '\ hands. [Drawing a Dag- after Proculeius hath, according to his suggestion, ascended the monument, goes out to inform Caesar that Cleopatra is taken. That Caesar was informed immediately of Cleopatra's being taken, appears from Dolabella's first speech to Proculeius on his entry : * Proculeius, What thou hast done, thy master Caesar knows,' etc. [See lines 77i 7^0 This information, it is to be presumed, Caesar obtained from Callus. The stage-directions being very imperfect in this scene in the old copy, no exit is here marked ; but as Gallus afterwards enters along with Caesar, it was undoubtedly the author's intention that he should here go out. — Walker (Crit. ii, 177) has an Article on ' Instances in which Speeches are assigned in the Folio to Wrong Characters,' in the course of which he remarks (p. 185) that, < Errors in the assignment of speeches, — including cases in which two speeches have been confused into one, or the like, — are remark&bly frequent in the Folio. I have just cited sixty or more instances [sixty- six, by my counting. — Ed. ] in which this has taken place, even according to the uni- yersally received text. This being the case, there is no reason why we should be scrupulous in asserting the same of other passages, where the context clearly indicates it. [The present line is among the sixty-six.] — Thiselton (p. 26) : If it were desired to follow Plutarch, the simplest way would be, perhaps, to regard this line as the commencement of a new scene the interval being taken up with the move- ments of Proculeius, but the fact that Gallus, whose presence talking with Cleopatra is essential to Plutarch's account, does not enter till later shows that Shakespeare did not intend to follow his authority slavishly. It therefore seems preferable to suppose that the ladder was fixed by the soldiers during Proculeius' previous conversation with Cleopatra, and that he, instead of going to Caesar as he pretended, climbed up the ladder with the soldiers and almost immediately appeared behind Cleopatra and her companions who were still standing at the gate. This view will account for the two speeches in succession being attributed to Proculeius by the Folio.
49. Releeu'd, but not betraid] Peck (p. 254) : Instead of ' betray' d,' I think, we should read bereai/d. This reading, I am sure, agrees better with Cleopatra's next words, . . . where betrayed of death is a forced expression, but berem/d is very natural. Besides in her present condition she finds herself already bereai/d of her crown, and, therefore, thinks it harder to be bereai/d of death, or the liberty to kill herself. — [Seven years after the publication of the foregoing note by Peck, War- BURTON proposed the same emendation, except that he transferred the change to 'Releeu'd'; his text reads ^ Bereay'd, but not betray'd.' His note thereon is of small consequence.]
340
THE TRACED IE OF
[act V, sc. ii.
Cleo. What of death too that rids our dogs of langui fh
Pro. Cleopatra^ do not abufe my Mafters bounty, by ThVndoing of your felfe : Let the World fee His Nobleneffe well afted, which your death Will neuer let come forth.
Clco. Where art thou Death ? Come hither come ; Come, come, and take a Queene Worth many Babes and Beggers.
Pro. Oh temperance Lady.
Cleo. Sir, I will eate no meate, He not drinke fir, If idle talke will once be neceflary He not fleepe neither. This mortall houfe He ruine.
SO
S5
60
50,51. that,..languiJhQ\exy^9Xxz.^ As one line, Cap. et seq.
50. languijh'\ languish ? Rowe. an- guish Johns, conj.
51. Cleopatra,] Om. Pope, 4- . Sepa- rate line, Var. '73, '78, '85.
52. Th'vmioing'] Ff, Rowe, + , Dyce, Wh. Hal. Thf undoing Cap. et cet.
56. come; Come^ come^'\ F,. come; Come, FjF^. come : Oh ! come, Rowe, + . eome ! come, come. Cap. et seq.
56. a Queene'\ the Queen Rowe. 59, 60. Sir, ...neceffary\ Lines trans- posed, Mitford ap. Cam.
59. Jle'\ F,. rie Fj. We F^. 77/ Rowe.
60. Jf ,,, neceffary\ In parenthesis, Sing. Given to Proculeius. Joicey (A*. 6- Qu, VII. xii, 343).
neceffary'\ accessary Han. Coll. ii, iu (MS), Sta.
50. What of death too] Capell (i, 49) : These words import — What, am I rob'd of death too, as well as of my kingdom ? and have no relation to those that Proculeius had just spoke, which perhaps were not heard by her.
57. Worth many Babes and Beggers] Johnson : Why, death, wilt thoa not rather seize a queen, than employ thy force upon babes and beggars f
60. talke] Warburton : This nonsense should be reformed thus : ' If idle time^ etc., I. e, if repose be necessary to cherish life, I will not sleep. — Johnson : I do not see that the nonsense is made sense by the change.
60, 61. If idle talke will once be necessary. He not sleepe neither] Heath (p. 466) : I conceive the poet's meaning is, I will not sleep neither, and, to prevent it, I will keep myself awake with any idle talk that happens to come uppermost — Johnson : * I will not eat, and if it will be necessary now for once to waste a moment in idle talk of my purpose. Twill not sleep neither,* In common conversation we often use will be, with as little relation to futurity. As, ' Now I am going, it Vfill be fit for me to dine first.* — Capell (i, 50) : * Necessary' in this line, means — neces- sary to life ; and < idle talk,' — conversation and talk among friends : and this being so, * sleep,' — which is the reading of all former copies, — must be a mistake, and that for — < speak : ' [thus in Capell's text]. After declaring first against • meat,* and then against * drink,' she crowns the whole by threat'ning him with, — the greatest possi- ble female achievement, — a renouncing of speech. But this is being too pleasant: especially, at this time ; and with a speech, that, in all the parts of it, is as woithy the magnificent Cleopatra as any one that the Poet has given her. — Stexvbns : Ona
ACTv, sc. ii] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 341
Do Cafar what he can. Know fir, that I 62
Will not waite pinnion'd at your Mafters Court,
Nor once be chaftic'd with the fober eye
Of dull Oilauia. Shall they hoyft me vp, 65
And fhew me to the (howting Varlotarie
Of cenfuring Rome ? Rather a ditch in Egypt.
Be gentle graue vnto me, rather on Nylus mudde
Lay me ftarke-nak'd, and let the water-Flies
Blow me into abhorring ; rather make 70
My Countries high pyramides my Gibbet,
64. NBrenctbt\Nolimctti>btV^^, 6g. ^arie-nafii] F„ Rowe, Pope.
Bowe, Pope. jtfori Haf.^ F,F,, Theob. Wwb. Coll.
66. Varlotarie'] Varlol/y Ff, Rowe, Dycc, Wh. Sta. Hal. Hari naiet/ Htat. Pope, Theob. Warb. varlclry Han. el eel.
67. Egypt.] Egypt. V,. MgypfYVaxio. the] Om. Huds.
68. Bl gtnllf graui\ Bi gintlt, gnrae, 71. high pyramidis] hygh pyramidti FjFj. Butgeiilli,grave,'Ravit. F,. high Pyramids F^F,, Var. '73.
vttto] to Han. highest Pyramid Haji.
maf mean sometimes. The meaniDg of Cleopatia leecos to be this : If idle talking be sometimeg necessary to the prolongation of life, why I will not sleep for fear of tetk- ing idly in my sleep. The sense, designed, howerer, may be — If il be necessary, foe once, lo talk of perfonning impossibilities, why, I'll not sleep neither. I have little confidence, however, in these attempts, to produce a meaning from the words under consideration. — MaLONe: The explications alxive given appear to me so unsatiahc- toiy, that I have no doubt thai a. line has been lost after the word necessary, in which Cleopatra threatened to observe an obstlnale silence. The line probably began with the word /'//, and the compositor's eye glancing on the lame words in the line beneath, all that intervened was lost. The omitted line might have been of this import ; ■ If idle talk will once be necessary, /'// not se much ai tyllaile a word; I'll not sleep neither,' etc. The words, 'I'll not sleep neither,' contain a new and dis- tinct menace. — RtTsoN : I agree that a line is lost, which I shall attempt lo supply 1 'If idle Ulicwlll once be necessary [/tut// not speak; If sliep be mcessary], I'll not sleep Deilher.' The repetition of the word necessary may have occasioned the omission. — C0LLIKB (ed. ii) says, in effect, thai, according lo the MS, Oeopotra adds ' that she will hasten her dealh by perpetual watchfulness, if < idle talk ' will contribute lo it, ot be accessary to it.^STAUNTOM ; We adopt Hanmer's accessary. The sense is plainly,—' I'll neilhei eat nor drink, and, if idle Ulk will./fr the nance, be assistant, I'll not sleep.' — [The obscurity in these lines is removed, I think, by the paraphrases of Heath and of Johnson. — En.]
69. Btatke-nak'd] Walker ( Ven. 191) has gathered many examples from ihe old poets where naked is ibus conliacled. We lind in Middleton, ' To cover olhen, and go nak'd thyself.' — Spanish Gipsy, p. 135, ed. Dyce. Again, Sidney ; ' His who till death lookt in a watrie ^lasiie. Or hers whom nakd the Troian boy did see.' — Aitrophtland Stella, Sunn. 1 imii.— DvcE (ed. il) quotes, ' Accomplished Thoas. in whose breast, (being nak'd) his hnce he threw,' elc. — Chapman's /Had, i»i, I96 ; < Strip'd nak'd her bosome, ihow'd her breaats,' eic — liU, xxii, 6}.
342 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act t. sc i-
And hang me vp in Chaines. 72
Pro. You do extend Thefe thoughts of horror further then you (hall Finde caufe in Ca/ar, 75
Enter DoUibeUa.
DoL ProculeiuSj What thou hail done, thy Mailer Cafar knowes. And he hath fent for thee : for the Queene, He take her to my Guard. 80
Pro. So Dolabella^ It (hall content me befl : Be gentle to her. To Cafar I will fpeake, what you ihall pleafe, If youl imploy me to him. Exit ProcitUms
CUo. Say, I would ^y^. 85
DoL Moil Noble Empreflfe, you haue heard of me.
CUo. I cannot telL
Dol. AiTuredly you know me.
CUo. No matter iir, what I haue heard or knowne : You laugh when Boyes or Women tell their Dreames, 90
74. furtker\ farther Cap. CoIL Wh. Han. Johns. Var. '73 et seq.
75. toufi^ cause for it Cap. 84. Exit...] Exeunt Proc and Gallos. Scene IIL Warb. Johns. Han. Elzeunt Proc and Sc^ciien^ Capw 78. thy\ my F^, Rowe, Pbpc, Han. After line 85, Pope et seq.
79. /A«/]/^it/iiK^DjceLcooj. Walker, 86. me.^ Ff, Rowe, + , Ktly. wuf
Dyce fi, iii, Ktly. Cap. et ceL
for'\ as for Ff, Rowe, + , Cap. 88. you kfum nu^ yom have Gar.
Varr. Ran. Steer. Var. '03, '13, Hods. 90. Dreawus^ dreams ; Theob. €t
^3* 84. To...kimJ\ [To Qeopatra. seq.
71. pyramides] Dtce (Note in The False One, H, i) : The passages of oor earl J writers in which 'pjramJdes* (the regular pi oral of pyramis) occnis are toj numerons. In the line in this speech [in 7^ False One^ : < No pjramids set off his memories,' though both the folios have pyramides, there can be no doabc that the poet intended the word to consist of only three syllables. — [See II, rii, 39.]
82. It shaU content me best] Here the Cowdex-Clarkes hare the foflowing slage-ifirection and note : ' Brings Qeopatra down into the lower room of the Mooo- ment, and delivers her to DoUabella.' This stage-direction has been added by die editors, as affording an idea of the sitnation in the present scene. There woold be 00 means of accoimting for what subsequently takes place, were we not to imagine Qeopatra as being still withinside her monomeitf.
84. If jcml implq]r me to him] Bradley ( A^. E. D. 1. v. Employ, 3. f b.) : To send (a person) wiih a commission to, tofwards (a person), to, int9 (a place). * We shall bane neede T* imploy yon towards thb Romane.* — Cymh. II, iii, 6& [The qooted. See, also, if needful, Fkanz, $ 379, b.]
ACT V, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 343
Is't not your tricke ? 91
DoL I vnderftand not, Madam.
Cleo. I dreampt there was an Emperor Anthony. Oh fuch another fleepe, that I might fee But fuch another man. 95
DoL If it might pleafe ye.
Cleo, His face was as the Heau'ns, and therein ftucke A Sunne and Moone, which kept their courfe, & lighted The little o'th'earth.
DoL Moft Soueraigne Creature. 100
Cleo. His legges beftrid the Ocean, his reared arme Crefted the world : His voyce was propertied As all the tuned Spheres, and that to Friends : 103
93, 114. dreampt^ F, dreamt F^F^, O dth' Theob. Warb. Jchns. Cap. Var.
Rowc, + , Cap. Var. '73, Knt, Sing. '73. orboUJCYizji, O, rJkeVzr.'jS ei
dreamed Var. '78 et cet. seq.
96. ye.'\ Ff. ye — Rowe,4-, Dyce, 100. CrecUHre,'\ creature — Rowe ct Wh. Sta. Glo. Cam. (subs. ) you, — Cap. seq. (subs.)
et cet 103. and thai'\ when thai Theob.
97. /^««*>ir] Rowe, + . heaven* sDe- Warb. Johns. Cap. addrest Anon. ap. lias conj. heavens Ff et cet. Cam.
99. dth''\ F,, Rowe, Pope. oth?¥^^,
97, etc. His face was as the Heau'ns, etc.] In all the similes throughout this * dream,' Whiter discerns allusions to pageants and processions. 'Let it be remembered,* he says (p. 190), 'that an imitation of the sphere of the Heavens, with the attributes and ornaments belonging to it, the sweetness of its music, and the noise of its thunder, the Sun, the Moon, and the Earth, colossal figures, — armorial bearings, — a magnificent procession of monarchs and their attendants, — floating islands, — and a prodigal distribution of wealth and honors, are the known and familiar materials which formed the motley compound of the Masque, the Pageant, or the Procession.' See IV, xiv, 11.
99, xoo. The little . . . Creature] Theobald : What a blessed limping verse these two hemistichs give us ! Had none of the Editors an ear to find the hitch in its pace? 'Tis true, there is but a syllable wanting, and that, I believe verily, was but of a single letter; which the first Editors not understanding, learnedly threw it out as a redundance. I restore, The little O oUh* Earthy 1. e, the little orb or circle. And, 'tis plain, our Poet in other passages chuses to express himself thus, ' Ros. O, that your face were not so full of O'es.' — Love's Labour's Lost^ V, ii, 46, 1. e, of round dimples, pitts with the smallpox. ' Can we cram. Within this wooden O, the very casques,' etc. — ProL to Henry K 12. * Fair Helena, who more engilds the night Than all yon fiery O's and Eyes of light.' — Mid. N, D,, III, ii, 195, t. e, the circles, orbs of the stars. — Collier : [Notwithstanding Theobald's amendment, the text of the folio] may, after all, be the true reading.
loi, 102. his rear'd arme Crested the world] Percy : Alluding to some of the old crests in heraldry, where a raised arm on a wreath was mounted on the helmet.
J44 ^^^ TRAGEDIE OF [act v, sc. i.
But when he meant to quaile, and (hake the Orbe,
He was as ratling Thunder. For his Bounty, 105
There was no ^i-inter in't. An Anthony it was.
That grew the more by reaping : His delights 107
lod. An AntbcMij i£ w*s\ Yt, Rove, Autrnmn, 'faras TheobL ct seq. I\>pe. mm enti^ x/ teas Ballodi. Am
103. the toned Spheies] See m, sin, 175. Abo, if need be, * Tlieie's noc the smallest orbe which thoa beholdat Bai in his mnfion like aa sngeU snCS* — Mer. tf Vem, Y» i» 69, and the Dotes that follow, in this cdidoa.
103. mnd that to FiieiMl*] STAcrxroec (Atktm^mat^ 26 Apr. 1S73) : SozcIt.— ^aad nvwiT tDfriemis*; 'diat' has aobosioesi in this p2ace. asd only serves to mm the gkxy of the speech. — [Elzx (pL 293) proposed, indepcDdendr, the sme emea- datioow and also * and soft to FziendsL' Bat, assoicdly, thoofh a iittle awfcwaid, 'diat* is perfectly cofzect. Its antEcedent is 'voice.* 'That* (or xwiJ) was Ms voice when addressing his ftieods. — Fix]
KH. qoaile] See * Fall noc a tear,* III, zi, 7S.
105. ntliB^ Thnader] Conipaze : 'Thy eye lames Ixghcntnc benres^ thy vovce his dzeadfell thmider. Whidh not to an^er bent, is nncaqne and sweet ire^* — Ln^i La^, Last^ I\% ii» 13a — Edl
105-107. For b» BoQsCy, There was no winter in't. An AnthiMij it wna. That stew tha more hy rrapin^;] Thiooald : There was ccstunly a rrw,rn^ both in the thom^tt and terms, desigiied here, which is lost in aa acodenfiil cor- rapdoo. How could an Antony grow the more by reafing ? FIX ventnrev by a vey easy change* to restore an eaqoisite fine allnsRm ; which carrier its leasca with it too^ whf there was no mimUr in his boonty : ' For his boon^. There was no wmfir in*t; an omtuntM *twas^ That grew the more by reaping.' I onght to take nctic^ that the ingeaioas Dr Thinby likewise started tiiis very emfminrioa^ and had ■«— ■■^ it in the margin ot his book. The reason of the depavaoun might easily arise brm^ thegreatsimiiitndeof the two words in the otdspeHingy AmtomieKad,Amt\\m^mt. [The name is spelt Anthony in this play in the Folio without an excepdim* I think; which injnres the literal 'similitnde' not a littie. — Ed.] Our anthor has emploved this thought again in [his 53rd .Simmer] : ' Speak of the spring and finaon of the year: The one doch shadow of 3Four bcaaty show, Tae other as your booni^ dock appear ; And nm in every blessed shape we know.* TIs plain that 'finaon * meaas Amtmmn. here, which pours out its profusion of fruits boontx&ily ; in oppoaitkin to S^nring^ which only shews tiie youthful beauty, and promise of that fiitme bonaty. — Com^eK ( Tkt NaUony 2S Aug., 1^73; : If * An Anthony it was* is not tight, 'aa ^i^tiwi% 'twas* bft certainly wrong. It is too tame for the intensely •mpnuinn*^ speech in which it occurs, or, rather, into which it has been introduced by the C!htai& Again» if ^ autiunn * could, by metonymy, be wrenched to aiean the crops of «"«"■»«" it could hardly be said that an aiimmn ^nraa the more by reaping. But this reaihng of Theobald has been sdently adopted by ail subsequent editocsy without any a»> SMieradou of itis tameness or of the resaitant izKongmity. In * An Amtkumjp it wsi* *- it * stands, oi course, for ' Bount)*.* His Bounty was an Anikomy^ * that grew the more by reapiog.' Now, could the ' less Greek' whidi, Ben Jonson teQs ua, Shake- speare possessed^ have enabled him to see in * Anthony ' the word kar^xtf ? His BcmoCy had no wimer in it; it was a mead of perennial loxuxiance, '^■■K'f a
ACT V, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 345
Were Dolphin-like, they fliewM his backe aboue 108
108. his backe\ their back Han. the back Ktly. their backs Bailey (ii, 1 25).
Jlcwering pasturage ('Avi?<5vo/ioc), and 'that grew the more by reaping.' — James Spbdding (N. <Sr* Qu., 1874, V, i, 303) : I cannot understand Prof. Corson's objec- tion to 'autumn.* In the cursive black-letter hand of the time Autumn might easily be written so as to be hardly distinguishable from Antonicy and surely it makes better sense and better poetry. So far from calling it ' tame/ I should instance it as one of the noblest, boldest, and liveliest images in poetry. Keats said that poetry ' ought to surprise, by a fine excess.* This is exactly a case of such 'fine excess.' ' An autumn that grew the more by reaping ' — that, the more you took of its harvests, the more there remained to take — is surely as great an image of ' bounty ' as the mind in its most impassioned state ever created ; quite as much so, and yet evidently from the same mint, as Juliet's — ' My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep ; the more I give to thee. The more I have ; for both are infinite.' As for the difficulty of understanding by autunm the crops of autumn, how is it more difficult than to understand by ' winter ' the absence of crops ? And what are we to come to ? Instead of allowing Tennyson to say — ' To strip a hundred hollows bare of spring,' we shall have to ask him to print ' sprigs ' for ' spring.' As for the amount of Shakespeare's Greek, of which he has left us no means of judging, the difficulty is to understand how be could have had Greek enough to know that h-vQo^ meant a flower, without knowing also that Anthony could not mean a pasture of flowers ; and not only could not really mean it, but could not, by any process of association, legiti- mate or illegitimate, suggest the image to an Englishman. — [Theobald asks, ' how an Antony could grow the more by reaping?' Would it not be equally perti- oent to ask how an autumn could grow the more by reaping? Reaping in the autumn is done when the grain is ripe, and grain thus reaped never grows again. The farmer is not yet born who, in the temperate zone, reaps the ripe grain in the autumn and finds it growing more vigorously for the process. To be sure, a farmer who could keep on reaping stubble fields and find at each reaping a heavier harvest would be, as Spedding observes, ' as great an image of " bounty " as the mind in its most impassioned state ever created,' and, possibly, can be paralleled only in the Arabian Nights, Not thus essentially at fault are, I think, Shakespeare's similes, which may be sometimes flagrantly open to criticism, but never to downright folly — thus, in all humility, it seems to me. When Spedding becomes eloquent over the beauty of ' autumn,' he seems to forget that he is exalting not Shakespeare, but Theo- bald. There is about Corson's suggestion so much refinement, elegance, and charm that it is hard to reject it. But, unfortunately, there is nothing in common between Anthony and Anthos but the first syllable, and there is no Greek word which will furnish any more. Moreover, we do not reap flowers, even to make them grow. Until an emendation is suggested, therefore, happier, as I think, than autumn^ I shall endeavour, for my own feeble self, to extract from ' Anthony ' what meaning I may of inexhaustible perfection in face, in form, in voice, in bounty, which for Cleo- patra so far lay in that single name that once, in order to express the height and depth and boundlessness of her self-absorption she exclaimed, <0h, my oblivion is a very Anthony ! ' — Ed.]
108. Dolphin-like, they shew'd his backe, etc.] Whiter (p. 189) : The back of the dolphin is deeply associated in the mind of .Shakespeare with the splendid scenery of the pageant or the procession. Would the reader believe that [the pres-
346 THE TRACED IE OF [act v. sc. iL
The Element they liuM in : In his Liuery
WalkM Crownes and Crownets:Realms & Iflands were no
As plates dropt from his pocket.
Dol. Cleopatra.
CUo. Thinke you there was, or might be fuch a man As this I dreampt of ?
DoL Gentle Madam, no. 115
CUo. You Lye vp to the hearing of the Gods : But if there be, nor euer were one fuch It's part the fize of dreaming : Nature wants (bifie To vie ftrange formes with fande, yet t'imagine 1 19
no. Crtmmeti\ rvrvM^ P6pe, 4 . \\t^ fancie^'\ fancy; Han. Cap. et
p] Om. Ff» Rowe, Pope. scq.
III. acopatn.] Ff. OW^aiy^ /Glo. /^imtagmc] Ff, Rove, Pope,
Oetf^int — Rove et cct. (sobs.) Tbeob. Wmib. Johns. Sio^. Wb. Dyce
117. fi«r] F,. 0r FjF^ et seq. ii, iii, Ktlj. U/^rm Han. U imagmt
IlS. //'j] Its Ft Ckp. et ccL
ent passi^] is to be refened to this source ? There is nothing, hoverer, more cer- tain and indubitable.
III. As plates] Stssvens: opiates 'mean, I bdiere, iiftvrflVMMT^. So, in Mar- love's Jc7t ff Mclia^ 1633 : * What's the price of this slaTe ? tvo bandied crovos! . • . And if he h^s, be is vorth tbive handled pUuL* — [II, pi. 272, ed. Dyoe.] A^n: <Rat'st thoa this Moor but at two hondred plaUsf — [Ihid, p. 273.}— Wh ALLET : Sleerens jostl j interprets ' plates * to mean silver money. It is a term in heraldry. The balls or roimdels in an escsttcbeon of arms, accordii^ to their different cokmrss have different names. If ^ula^ or red, thej are called torUauxa; if 4>r, or 3pe)k>v, hnaUs : if cr^rmi^ or vbite,^^iki^, vhich are hnttons of sflver vith- OQt any impressxA, bet only prepared ibr the stamp.
117. noreoerwere] THTSE1.70N ^Pl27): 'Nor*basbecnmivairantabtydianged to AT, ovin£ to its being orer^oc^ed tbat tlus line is in direct contrast vith tbe preced- ing, and iH&t * nor ' implies an eHips's of mntker or m^ Qeopatxa voold ask, ' Bat assoming ^ tbe moment yon are right, bov came I to dream of sndi a one ? * And this quesuon she aosvexs ly sayii^ tbat tboi^h Fancy ooold outsUip Natnre, yet die mere pktnre of Anthony as be acmfelly v:as in Katne exceeded aiTthing Fancy cowM create. The descripdon Qeopatxa bas jost gives vas tbe vork of fiuxy bat ia »d &r as it did ncc tally v^ih Antbcmy as be was, it vas becime it fell abort oC not bccaase it eu^sircntcd, bis greatness^
ll<k To Tie] Stai'^tos : This v«s a term at cards, and meant, porticnlariy, to tecTHue tbe itake^ and, gcnesaHy, to rbaHmge any one to a cmeUmfim^ het^ magir, eK''. — [Undoabfeedly, ii vas, and, |gilm»v, originally, a term at cards, altboagh ib m«aiiinc i^ cbacvrcL It is nsed in Fkcio's Se^wmi Frmia (ppu 69, 71) in a vi^ vbkli is diftcvit 10 expiMa. Bat I donH that, ia tbe present pam^e, it has aay uferuace to caris. It is nwd, I iUnk« as it is defined m tbe Cemtmrj Dittimmfj (9sr. Tie, II. ffitms, ^^z *Topdl cr brn^ inm oampetiboai ; try toonldoin; ooolcBd ^ivMi layC'Cf tCk' WbeKopott ibe |amjut jTi^f is ^aoied as an m^^mm^ — ^^j^
ACT V. sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 347
An Anthony were Natures peece, 'gainft Fancie, 120
Condemning (hadowes quite.
DoL Heare me, good Madam : Your loffe is as your felfe, great ; and you beare it As anfwering to the waight, would I might neuer Ore-take purfu'de fucceffe : But I do feele 125
By the rebound of yours, a greefe that fuites
120. were\withYY , n^ojCap. conj. Rowe et seq. Gar. 1 25. purfu'dtl purfu'd FjF^.
peece ^ F^. piece^Y^^^ Rowe, /uccejfe : But '\ success ^ but Koyre
Pope, prize Theob. Han. Warb. piece ct seq.
Johns, et seq. 126. fuites'\ F,. fuits F^F^, Rowe.
Fancie'\ Fancy* s Ktly. smites Cap. Coll. Sing. Dyce, Wh. i, Sta.
X24. waight tl 7veight^ ^3^4* weight: Glo. Cam. Hal. shoots Pope et cet.
119-121. yet t'imagine . . . shadowes quite] Whiter (p. 194) : Is it possible to employ terms more pointed and significant than those which might be selected from the concluding sentence to describe the nature and properties of such romantic exhibitions ? For what are the devices of the Pageant, but the creatures of a dreamy — the strange forms of an illusive fancy ^ and the empty shadows of a sportive imagination ? — Staunton : We are not sure of having mastered the sense of this, or indeed that the text exhibits precisely what Shakespeare wrote, but the meaning apparently is, — *■ Nature lacks material to compete with fancy in unwonted shapes, yet the conception of an Antony was a masterpiece of Nature over fancy, abasing phantoms quite.' — Hudson : Shakespeare sometimes msgs fancy and imagination as equivalent terms, and here he uses both for the dreaming-power. Nature lacks material to keep up with fancy in the creation of strange forms ; yet to fancy such an actual being as Antony, a man of Nature's making, were to make Nature an over- match for fancy, dwarfing its shadowy creatures into insignificance. The passage is exceedingly strong and subtle, and comes appropriately from this matchless roll of unwomanly womanhood.
120, 1 21. were Natures peece, 'gainst Fancie, Condeixining shadowes quite] Warburton : The word prize, which I have restored, is very pretty, as figuring a contention between nature and imagination about the latter extent of their powers ; and nature gaining the prize by producing Antony. — ^Johnson : The word 'piece,' is a term appropriated to works of art. Here Nature and Fancy produce each their piece, and the piece done by Nature had the preference. Antony was in reality /ox/ the size of dreaming ; he was more by Nature than Fancy could present in sleep.
124, 125. would I . . . But I do] Thiselton (p. 27) : • But,' Dollabella means,
• If success in a cherished object carries with it the being infected by the grief of my victim, as I am now by your grief, I would rather forego it.' — [Is not the * But,* in this passage, that which follows strong asseverations, as in Othello's exclamation :
* Perdition catch my soul But I do love thee ' ? Thus here Dollabella says, in effect, •Would I might never gain success, if I do not sympathise with you ! * — Ed,]
126. a greefe that suites] Collier (ed. i) : Surely, as Mr Barron Field observes, [suites] is much more likely to have been a misprint for smites [than shoots] which only varies in a single letter. The expression is then more natural, and it avoids the
348
THE TRACED IE OF
[act V, sc. iL
My very heart at roote.
Cleo. I thanke you fir : Know you what CcBfar meanes to do with me ?
DoL I am loath to tell you what, I would you knew.
Cleo, Nay pray you fir.
DoL Though he be Honourable.
Cleo. Hee'l leade me then in Triumph.
DoL Madam he will , I knoVt. Flourijh.
Enter Proculeius, Ca/ary Callus y MecenaSy and others of his Traine.
All. Make way there CcB/ar.
127
130
135
137
127. nt roote\ at^ root Ed. conj. 130. I anC^ Pm Pope, + , Dyce ii, iii. what^ /] what J Rowe ii et seq. l3X.^r.] sir: Cap. jir, — Var. '73 et seq.
132. Hofumrable,'\ honourable — Pope et seq. (subs.)
133. then] Om. Theob. ii, Warb. Johns. Cap.
Triumph.] Ff, Rowe. triumph : Cap. triumph ? Pope et cct.
134. / kmni/t] Separate line, Han. Steev. Var. '03, M3, Knt, Sing.
knmu't] FjF^, Var. '21, Coll. Dyce, Wh. Sta. Glo. Cam. Hal. knotut F,, know it Cap. et ceL
Flourifti.] Om, Rowe, + , Cap.
Varr. Steev. Van. Knt Flourish with* in. Dyce. Flourish without. Sta. Flour- ish and shout within : * Make way there : Casar!^ Glo. Cam.
134. Scene IH. Pope, Han. Scene IV. Warb. Johns.
135. 136. Enter...] Enter Caesar and Train of Romans, and Seleucus. Cap. After line 137, Pope et seq.
136. others of his Traine.] Attendants. Rowe.
137. All. Make ... Caefar.] within. Make ... Qesar, Cap. [Without] Make ,..Cirsar! Sta.
there Csefar] there — Cetsar. Rowe et seq.
clash of shoots and 'root' — [Collier repeats this note in his ed. ii, and adds that * suites' is corrected to smites in the MS.] — Walker {Crit. iii, 311 ) : 'A grief that shootSy — that is neither old nor modem English. Note, too, * shoots at root.* Folio, suites ; hence one of the conmientators (I know not who), recollecting the puns 00 suitor and shooter in the old dramatists, concluded it was a mistake of the printer's ear for shoots. (Apropos of which, by the way, in a letter of John Alleyn, the player, a man ignorant of spelling, ap. Collier's Alleyn Papers^ shauie is written for suite^ courtship, offer of marriage. ) Shakespeare wrote smites. Smite occurs in the vexy next column ; so that the word seems to have been running in his head. — Dyce : Smites t — thus Tyrwhitt in his copy of F, in the British Museum. — Anon. (Black- woody Oct. 1853) : 'Suites' is perhaps judiciously altered into smites. — [Inasmuch as there is proof, adequately conclusive (see a long discussion in Lovt^s Lab, Lost^ IV, i, 122), that suite and suitor were, in Shakespeare's day, pronounced, on occasion, shoot and shooter ; and, inasmuch as *■ suites,' thus pronounced in the present pas- sage makes good sense, I do not think we are justified in substituting, for one of Shakespeare^s own words, any other word, however great may be the improvement Is it not conmion enough, at the present day, to speak of physical pain as * shooting' ? Cannot poetic license apply the same verb to mental pain ? — Ed.]
ACTV. sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 349
C(Bf. Which is the Queene of Egypt. 138
DoL It is the Emperor Madam . Cleo. kneeles.
Cafar. Arife, you (hall not kneele : 140
I pray you rife, rife Egypt.
Cleo. Sir, the Gods will haue it thus, My Mafter and my Lord I muft obey,
CcB/ar. Take to you no hard thoughts. The Record of what iniuries you did vs, 145
Though written in our flefli, we fhall remember As things but done by chance.
Cleo. Sole Sir o'th'World, I cannot proieft mine owne caufe fo well
To make it cleare, but do confeffe I haue 150
Bene laden with like frailties, which before Haue often fham'd our Sex.
CcBfar. Cleopatra know. We will extenuate rather then inforce : 154
138-140. Which,.. kfueU:^ Lines end, 142, 143. wilL„Lord'\ Separate line,
queen,.. Arise ^ ...kneel : Steev. Var. '03, Pope et seq. '13. X42. M«j,] thus ; Theob. ct seq.
138. Egypt.'\ y^gypi ? Rowe et seq. 143. muft'\ much Ff.
139. Itii\ * Tis Steev. Varr. Knt, Sing. obey^'\ obey. F^ et seq.
Ktly. 144. thoughts y'\ thoughts ; Pope et seq.
140. [to Cleop. raising her. Cap. 149. proie^'\ parget Han. procter
141. r^if,] rif^. Johns. Var. *73. rise; Warb. perfect Ot^^tx.
Cap. Var. '78 et seq. 150. cleare j"] clear; Cap. et seq.
149. I cannot proieA mine owne cause] Warburton : * Project* signifies to invent a cause, not io plead it ; which is the sense here required. It is plain that we should read, proctor. The technical term, to plead by an advocate. — ^Johnson : Hanmer reads : • I cannot parget my own cause — .* Meaning, I cannot whitewash^ vamishy or gloss tdlj cause. I believe the present reading to be right To project a cause is to represent a cause ; to project it well^ is to plan or contrive a scheme of defence. — Heath (p. 466) : To project is properly a term of perspective, signifying to represent an object truly, according to the rules of that art. Hence it is applied metaphorically to denote a representation of any kind whatever. So that the sense is, I am not capable of stating my own cause in so favourable a light, as to free myself from all blame. — Steevens : * Project ' may certainly be right Sir John Harrington, in his Metamorphosis of AjaXy 1596, says — * I am not only groundedly studied in the reformation of Ajax, which I have chosen for the project of this dis- course.'— [p. 95, ed. Singer.] — Malone: In Much Ado, we find these lines: *She cannot love, Nor take no shape not project oi affection, She is so self-endear'd.* — [III, 't 59*] I cannot project, etc. means, therefore, I cannot shape or form my cause, etc. — [Heath's interpretation, which is also, in fact, Johnson's, seems to be the best —Ed.]
350 '^^^ TRACED IE OF [act v, sc. iL
If you apply your felfe to our intents, 155
Which towards you are mod gentle, you (hall finde
A benefit in this change : but if you feeke
To lay on me a Cruelty, by taking
Anthonies courfe, you (hall bereaue your felfe
Of my good purpofes, and put your children 160
To that deftruflion which He guard them from,
If thereon you relye. He take my leaue.
Cleo.hxiA may through all the world : tis yours, & we your Scutcheons, and your fignes of Conqueft (hall Hang in what place you pleafe. Here my good Lord. 165
CcBfar. You (hall aduife me in all for Cleopatra.
Cleo. This is the breefe : of Money, Plate, & Jewels I am poffeft of, ^tis exaflly valewed, 168
158. Cruelty^ by\ cruelty by Pope, 165. Lord,'\ lord^ — Ktly.
Han. Cam. x66. in all for] of all Rowe ii. Pope.
1$^, your felfe] you felfe ¥^. i6t , breefe : of ] briefs : of ¥ ^, brief:
162. leaue.] leave — Var. *73. of F^F^, Rowe. brief of Pope et seq.
163. yours,] yours ; Theob. et seq. 168. of] of— Pope,+. of; Cap. et
1 64. your Scutcheons] Your Scutcheons seq.
Ff. valewed] valued F F^.
165. Here] Hear, Coll. iii.
166. You shaU aduise me in all for Cleopatra] M alone : You shall yourself be my counsellor, and suggest whatever you wish to be done for your relief. So, afterwards : ' For we intend so to dispose you, as Yourself shall give us counsel.' [lines 219, 220.]
167. This is the breefe, etc.] von Friesen (iii, 256) : Cleopatra's determination to shut herself up in her Monument, and have her death announced to Anthony is a step concerning which it is difficult to decide whether it was prompted by a sudden prudence in retiring before the bitter reproaches of Antony, or an artistic stroke of fresh coquetterie. But when there followed upon it an unexpected issue and Antony had committed suicide, I am convinced that Cleopatra was smitten with a love for the dying and for the dead hero, deeper and, possibly, more overwhelming than ever she had felt for him when alive. Hereupon, she reveals in her opposition to Octavius all the versatility of her shrewdness and dissimulation. Plutarch, justly enough, does not record that she contemplated enmeshing Octavius in her charms. This repulsive legend, started by the historians after Plutarch's time, Shakespeare could not, therefore, have intended, even in the remotest degree, to have recalled. On the contrary her deportment toward the Emperor from the moment of his sending Thyreus to her displays the keenest shrewdness. In this respect, her interview with him is a model. . . . From the very instant that she learned the Emperor's decision to carry her as a prisoner to Rome to grace his triumph, her resolve to take her own life was 6xed and immovable. For what other purpose, forsooth, was the presentation to Octavius of the brief of her treasures and the summons to Seleucus to testify to her conscientious statement ?
ACT V, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 351
Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus ?
Sieleu. Heere Madam. 170
Cleo. This is my Treafurer, let him fpeake (my Lord) Vpon his perill, that I haue referu'd To my felfe nothing. Speake the truth Seleucus,
Seleu. Madam^ I had rather feele my lippes. Then to my perill fpeake that which is not. 175
Cleo. What haue I kept backe.
SeL Enough to purchafe what you haue made known
CcB/ar. Nay blufh not Cleopatra^ I approue Your Wifedome in the deede.
Cleo. See Ccefar : Oh behold, 1 80
169. admitted, '\ admitted — Pope. Han. Cap. et seq.
omitted — Tbeob. Han. Warb. Cap. 174. feele'\ F,. j^^/ Johns. Vair. Mai.
Where' s\ Whereas F^F^. Ran. Stecv. Varr. Sing. Ktly. feale F^.
169-21 1. Where's ,..pittied'\ Om. feal ¥ ^ ti cti.
Kemble. 176. backe."] bcukt F^F^ et seq.
174. Madam] Om. Han. 180. See,., behold^Casar ! behold Yi^Xi,
174, 175. I had., .perill] Separate line, Caefar :] Ccesar! Rowe et seq.
168, 169. 'tis eza<5tly valewed. Not petty things admitted] Theobald: Sagacious editors ! Cleopatra gives in a list of her wealth, says, 'tis exactly valued ; but that petty things are not admitted in this list : and then she appeals to her treas- urer, that she has reserved nothing to herself. And when he betrays her, she is reduced to the shift of exclaiming against the ingratitude of servants, and of making apologies for having secreted certain trifles. Who does not see, that we ought to read: 'Not petty things (^mtV/ir^//* For this declaration lays open her falsehood; and makes her angry, when her treasurer detects her in a direct lie. — ^Johnson : Not- withstanding the wrath of Theobald, I have restored the old reading. She is angry afterwards, that she is accused of having reserved more than petty things. — [In the corresponding passage in Plutarch, Cleopatra says, * though it may be I have reserved some jewels and trifles meet for women,* etc. — Ed.] — Abbott (J 377) : The parti- ciple is often used to express a condition, where, for perspicuity we should now mostly insert if. Thus here the meaning is, 'exactly, if petty things be excepted.' — [See III, xii, 17.]
174. I had rather seele my lippes] Johnson : Sew up my mouth. — Steevens : It means close up my lips as efiectually as the eyes of a hawk are closed. To seel hawks was the technical term. — Coluer (ed. i) : The commentators have under- stood an allusion to seeling the eyes of a hawk ; but the common expression of sealing the lips requires no such explanation. — Singer : But the poet is very fond of such allusions [to hawking], and there is surely no reason for printing seal, and thus sub- stituting a word not authorised by the old copy which always prints the latter word seal or seale. — Dyce (ed. ii) : In HI, xiii, 137, we have 'the wise gods seele our eyes,' etc. But here the spelling of the Folio goes for little; in Lear^ IV, vi, 168, the Folio has * the power to seale th* accusers lips * ; and in 2 Hen. VI: I, ii, 89, • Seale vp your Lips.* — Staunton : To seal one* s lips was a familiar expression ages before Shakespeare lived.
352 THE TRACED IE OF [act v, sc. ii.
How pompe is followed : Mine will now be yours, i8i
And fhould we fhift eftates, yours would be mine.
The ingratitude of this Seleucus^ does
Euen make me wilde. Oh Slaue, of no more truft
Then loue that's hyr'd ? What goeft thou backe, y (halt 185
Go backe I warrant thee : but He catch thine eyes
Though they had wings. Slaue, Soule-leffe, Villain, Dog.
O rarely bafe I
CcB/ar. Good Queene, let vs intreat you.
Cleo, O Cce/arj what a wounding fhame is this, 190
That thou vouchfafing heere to vifit me. Doing the Honour of thy Lordlinefle To one fo meeke, that mine owne Seruant fhould 193
181. followed '[foiioTv'd Pope et seq. 187. SouJe-UJfe, VUlain,'] stml-Uu vil-
184. Euen^ Ev'ti Pope, + . lain^ Pope et seq.
185. hyf'd?'\ hir'd. Rowc,Pope, Han. Villain'l ViUian Rowe i. hif^d^ Theob. Warb. Johns, hir'd! 188. [Striking him. Johns, flying at Cap. et seq. him. Cap.
lVkat'\ What! Coll. Wh. Ktly, 189. [interposing. Cap.
Hal. 193. nteeke\ weak Theob. Han. Warb.
backe ^'\ back f Rowe ii et seq. mean Cap. Ran. y\ thou Yi,
184. Oh Slaue, of no more trust, etc.] Stahr (p. 270) : This little comedy, pre-arranged and agreed upon, between her and her faithful treasurer is a master- stroke of the bold lady, which completely attains the purpose for which it was designed. — [It is hardly too much to say, I think, that the historian of Qeopatra has made us all his debtors by this keen-sighted interpretation of the Queen's outrageous treatment of Seleucus. It is a relief to be freed from the necessity of finding excuses for what we now see to be simulated rage. — Ed.]
185, 186. What goest thou backe, . . . thee] Dkighton : What (said as she advances to strike him), do you retreat before me ? you* 11 be ready enough, I warrant, to desert me ; * Go back ' being used in the literal and the figurative sense. In the latter sense Schmidt takes the phrase here as equivalent to * be worsted, ' — [Very few readers, I think, will detect any * figurative sense ' here, or any equivalent to being 'worsted.' — Ed.]
18S. O rarely base] Steevens : That is, base to an uncommon degree.
193. To one so meeke] Theobald : Surely Cleopatra must be bantering Caesar, to call herself < meek,' when he had the moment before seen her fly at her Treasurer, and wishing to tear out his eyes. I correct, weak, that is, so shrunk in fortune and Dowcr. Besides, she might allude to her bodily decay. See Plutarch. — [The fore- going note with its emendation is not repeated in any of the Variorums, and was, therefore, unknown to Walker, when (Crt/. ii, 300) among a number of instances where m and w are confounded, he also suggested weak, in the present line.] — Capell (i, 50) : That *meek ' is corrupt, is assented to readily; but not the word 'tis amended by [by Theobald], weak is ambiguous, and therefore improper; and
ACT V. sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA
353
Parcel! the fumme of my difgraces, by
Addition of his Enuy. Say (good Ca/ar)
That I fome Lady trifles haue referuM,
Immoment toyes, things of fuch Dignitie
As we greet moderne Friends withall, and fay
Some Nobler token I haue kept apart
For Uuia and 06lauiay to induce
Their mediation, muft I be vnfolded
With one that I haue bred : The Gods ! it fmites me
Beneath the fall I haue. Prythee go hence,
Or I fhall fhew the Cynders of my fpirits
Through th'Afhes of my chance : Wer't thou a man,
195
200
205
195. Enuy,'\ Envy ! F^F^ ct scq.
196. Lady tri/l^s] Lady-trifles Fr, Rowe, + , Coll.
198. wUhaily'\ withal; Theob. et seq.
201. mediation^'] F^, Coll. Wh. Hal. meditation^ ^3^4* fnediaiion ? Var. *2I, mediation ; Cap. et cet.
202. With'\ By Rowe ii, + , Var. '73. of Cap.
bred :^ bred ? Rowe et seq. The Gods'] Ye gods Coll. ii, iii (MS), Sing. Ktly.
203. [To Seleucus. Johns. Prythee] Preihee ¥(,
204. /pirits] spirit Walker, Coll. MS, Ktly, Huds.
205. th'Aykes] Ff, Rowe, + , Coll. Sing. Wh. Dyce ii, iii, Ktly, Hal. the ashes Cap. et cet.
my chance] mischance Han. Coll. ii, iii (MS), my change Walker, my glance Ingleby, Huds.
Wer't] PYert Rowe.
mean, a word as near it in characters, bids fairer to be the true one, from its oppo- sition to ' lordliness ' in the same sentence. — Malone : * Meek,' I suppose, means here tame. — [I suppose that * meek * here means meeh, — the very quality that Cleo- patra would claim for herself, especially when she least deserved it. — Ed.]
194. Parcell the summe of my disgraces] Johnson : To parcel her disgraces, might be expressed in vulgar language, to bundle up her calamities. — Malone : The meaning, I think, either is, * that this fellow should add one more parcel or item to the sum of my disgraces, namely, his own malice ' ; or < that this fellow should lot up the sum of my disgraces, and add his own malice to the account.* — [Dyce adopts, in his Glossary, this note of Malone.]
195. Enuy] That is, malice ; see Shakespeare, passim.
198. moderne] That is, common, every day ; see Shakespeare, passim. , 201, 202. vnfolded With one ] For other instances where ' with* is equivalent to by, see Abbott, § 193 ; or Franz, § 383.
202. The Gods] Collier (ed. ii) : Another instance of old misprinting, * The* for Ye, owing to the mistake of the abbreviation y* : we derive the change from the MS. — Dyce (ed. ii) : But compare, *0 me, the gods,* Coriolanus, II, iii; O the gods/* Tro. 6r* Cress., IV, ii ; Coriolanus, IV, i ; Cymb.^ I, i ; *0 the blest gods f* Lear, II, iv; and *0 the good gods /* in this present scene, line 266.
204, 205. Cynders of my spirits Through th' Ashes of my chance, etc.] Theobald: She considers herself, in her downfall, as a fabric destroyed by fire;
23
354 ^^^ TRAGEDIE OF [act v, sen.
Thou would'fl haue mercy on me. 206
Ca/ar. Forbeare Stlcucus.
dec. Be it known, that we the greatefl are mif-thoght For things that others do : and when we &1I, We anfwer others merits, in our name 210
Are therefore to be pittied.
907. [Exit Sekocns. Cape ct seq. Johns. Vv. ^73. mmswer atker^
ao&. /?/•</] ^VFt^^^, Dycexi in. in omr mmame Are Cm^ atrmer eikrr^
210, 211. an/wT 4re^ FY. oKswrr wmeriis im emr mama. Are Var. '78, 'S5,
ttkm fnrrics^ im eur m^imes j4re Rowe, Ran. cmsmer ^hrri wmrriiiim
Fofse^ Thcot^ i. etintter czhrrf nurri^^ And CoIL in. amswerin^ tak^rf meritj im mtr n4tmes Are Tkcob. 21. pamder in cmr some. Are Bulloch.
takers fmeriis vntk tmr mameji^ And Han. cdktr^ mrrits im emr mame^ Are MaL et tmsver etthrrf fmeriis im emtr nanus .* Are ceL
mnd diea wcmld rotnnate tbat tttt same tar has reduced her ^siits too to iludeiv ; ». f. crtttsmned the stren^di and d^nitr of her soul and mind. Warbanon ihssks» tibe poet wrot^ * Throogh the ashes ctf my cierix.' — £This rmmdatioa WarhariKB did not soggfcst in his schseqneni edition. It is, therefon, qpoa to hope, that he withdrew ii,} — ^MiTltRAY (X. E. D. s. r. Chance, 5.) : That which befalls a penoB; (one^s) hap, fortune, lodu lot. — jf^ e have aiready had in * die wonnded c^txg of Anthony ^ (IIL, x, 49 v, a nse of * chance ^ cranly parallel to the present. * Chance * then! meant fortmne^ iof^ And here it nteans^ the same. * Thnn^ the ashes of her fomme, the embers of her spirit air still i^lowin^.' In due sme Hne, where Qeopatia says \T^eT*t thon a man,* she implies the knowledge dat Seleocos was a emadL — ^Er>.]
904. ^»liits] 5«ee I, ii, 145, with its protest against 'Walker's znonosyQahic pro> nonciation of * spirit.'
2<y^-2i 1 . when we ihll, TP^e Mia^wci others ixient&. in our name Are tbere- fbre to be phtied] Wahbitrto^' : The liiKS should be pomted thos : — * And vhea wc fall "^'^^ answer. Otbtffs' merits, in om^ names Arc therefore to be pitied.* That ts, • wh<?n any misfortune hath so:»iected ns to the "pi^ifmrT of onr enemies, we aae sore to he punished for tha«te isults. A« this is the case, it is hot reasonable &at we should h&vr the merit of onr mini<teri:' gnod acticms. as well as bear the blame cf their bad.' Bm she soften> the weird mr'if into J*ii}. The reason of her *it»Hti^ the rcflfTcion was th;s : Tier former conduct was liable to mnch censure imm Octavius. which sh<^ WAuld heirby artt'uliy insinuate was owing; to her evil ministenL And a*, her nrr^ent conduct, in cnnrealin^ hrr trextiUTes, appeared to be her own act, she beinfj defected by her minist«»T, she he^, that a> sne now aui!>weib for hff former mmf^iTef^ miscarr»aj*t*^, «» her present minister'*^ men: in this discoverr, likewKr be p]ftce«l tn her arcoiml : "Wnich she thinks but reasonable. ( p. 46^ I : 'Hm: i^ 'VN'c, who air in possession of the sapieme power, «ie iD tho^tf of for funlts committef'. bv others, without our direction or knowledge; snd, are stripped €>i this p->vk-er, are oblifred to answer in oar own nainK for what othe»^ oofjht in iuslicr to answer for themselves. Theretore we are to he pitied. I conceive thT. this rer^ection of Cleopatra is incetided to insinuate, thai the debcieDcy in the inventor}* oqghi to be tmnuted to Seleocas her accaaer, and not to hecKif;
ACTV, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 355
Ccefar. Cleopatra ^ 212
Not what you haue referuM, nor what acknowledged Put we i'th'Roll of Conqueft : ftill bee't yours, Beftow it at your pleafure, and beleeue 215
Cafars no Merchant, to make prize with you Of things that Merchants fold. Therefore be cheered, 217
214. Put wi^ Put me Rowe, Pope. Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. Ktly. be it Cap.
t'M»] Ff, Rowe, + , Wh. Vthe et cet.
Cap. et cet. 216. prize"] price Anon. ap. Cam.
be/t] Ff. be't Rowe, + , Sing. 217. foid] Aold Anon, ap. Cam.
and that he therefore was properly answerable for it. I would beg leaye to add, that I am inclined to believe that Sbakespear gave us the third line thus. And atutver others merits in our names ; which renders the construction more explicit and per- spicuous.— [Collier's MS marked the same change from* Are* to And, 'Very unnecessarily,' says Dyce (ed. ii) : * In the last clause of a sentence Shakespeare (like other old writers) sometimes omits "and.'**] — Capell (i, 51): The reflec- tions contain' d in this speech are perfectly just, and their wording as dear as their intention; which is — to exculpate the speaker, not in what has recently happen*d, but her political behaviour in general : Nothing then is hard to conceive, but the consequence drawn from these premises, — * in our name Are therefore to be pity*d*; and the single difficulty there, lyes in — * name ' .• But how often is name put for — title? and here with great energy : as importing — that greatness and dignities, high and swelling titles, were mere vanities and a name only ; rather worthy of pity than envy, by reason of it's servants* abuses, and the ruin it often suffers through them. — Johnson : ' We suffer at our highest state of elevation in the thoughts of mankind for that which others do; and when we fall, those that contented themselves only to think ill before, call us to answer in our own names for the merits of others. We are therefore to be pitied.* Merits is in this place taken in an ill sense, for actions meriting censure. — M. Mason : The plain meaning is this : * The greatest of us are aspersed for things which others do ; and when, by the decline of our ]x>wer, we become in a condition to be questioned, we are called to answer in our own names for the actions of other people.* Merit is here used, as the word desert frequently is, to express a certain degree of merit or demerit. A man may merit punishment as well as reward. — M alone : As demerits was often used, in Shakspeare*s time, as synonymous to merit, so merit might have been used in the sense which we now affix to demerit ; or the meaning may be only, we are called to account, and to answer in our own names for acts, with which others, rather than we, deserve to be chaiged. — [From Capell's crabbed English (Dr Johnson, using Prospero's language in reference to Caliban, said that if Capell had only come to him, he would 'have endowed his purposes with words*) I can extract more light than from any of the other interpretations, and, in addition, his version conforms closely to the Folio. The real difficulty lies, as he says, in the word * name,' which here, I think, means eminence, greatness (as in other instances which Schmidt's Lexicon will supply). The passage, then, may be paraphrased : * When we, the great ones of earth, fail, it is not through our own fault, but through that of others, our subordinates; for the very eminence of our position, therefore, we are to be pitied.' — Ed.]
356
THE TRACE DIE OF
[act V, sc. ii.
Make not your thoughts your prifons : No deere Queen,
For we intend fo to difpofe you, as
Your felfe (hall giue vs counfell : Feede,and fleepe :
Our care and pitty is fo much vpon you,
That we remaine your Friend, and fo adieu.
Cleo, My Mafter,and my Lord,
Cce/ar. Not fo : Adieu. Flaurijh.
Exeunt CcBfar , and his Traine.
Cleo. He words me Gyrles, he words me. That I fhould not be Noble to my felfe. But hearke thee Charmian.
Iras. Finifh good Lady, the bright day is done. And we are for the darke.
Cleo. Hye thee againe, I haue fpoke already, and it is prouided. Go put it to the hade.
218
220
225
230
233
218. prifons\ poison Han. i, Johns, conj. prison Han. ii, Dyce conj. Ktly.
223. Lord,'\lordy — Cap. lord I Wax. '73 et seq.
224. Flourifli.] Om. Ff.
225. Scene V. (misprint for IV.) Pope, Warb. Johns. Scene IV. Han.
226-228. /]^<r...Channian] Two lines, dividing at not^ Han. Cap. et seq. 228. Charmian] Charmion Johns.
228. [Whispers Char. Theob. et seq. To this whisper, Char, replies, *The aspics, Madam?' Kemble.
229. Lady^ lady, Johns, lady; Cap. et seq.
231. againe\ amain Theob. cx)nj. (withdrawn.)
232. I haue] Pve Pope,+, Dyce ii, in.
233. Go put] Go^ put Cap. Steev. Varr. Knt, Coll. Sing. Wh. Sta. KUy.
218. Make not your thoug^hts your prisons] Johnson : I once wished to read — * Make not your thoughts yovi poison — * : Do not destroy yourself by musing on 3rour misfortune. Yet I would change nothing, as the old reading presents a very proper sense. * Be not a prisoner in imagination, when in reality you are free. — [Johnson suggested poison, wherein he was anticipated by Hanmer ed. i. Dyce suggested prison, wherein he was anticipated by Hanmer, ed. ii. — Ed.]
232. and it is prouided] Theobald : Freinshemius has obsenred, upon a pas- sage in Quintus Curtius, that your best writers very often leave some things to be understood from the consequence and implication of words, which the words them- selves do not express. Our author observes this conduct here. Cleopatra most be supposed to mean, she has spoke for the asp, and it is provided, tho* she says not a word of it in direct terms. — Capell (i, 51) : The Poet's art in this place is worth noting: 'it' relates covertly to the asp which she afterwards dies by; but her further directions about it, are convey* d in a whisper, — * But hark thee, Charmian'; which had they been openly given, a main grace of the incident that presently fol- lows had been taken away from it, that is — it's novelty.
ACTV, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 357
Char. Madam^ I will.
Eiiter Dolabella. 235
DoL Where's the Queene ?
Char, Behold fir.
Cleo, Dolabella,
DoL Madam^ as thereto fwome, by your command ( Which my loue makes Religion to obey ) 240
I tell you this : Ccsfar through Syria Intends his iourney, and within three dayes, You with your Children will he fend before, Make your beft vfe of this. I haue performM Your pleafure, and my promife. 245
Cleo, Dolabellay I fhall remaine your debten
DoL I your Seruant : Adieu good Queene, I muft attend on Ccefar. Exit
Cleo. Farewell, and thankes. Now Iras J what think'ft thou ? 250
Thou, an Egyptian Puppet fhall be fhewne
234. [Exit Charmian. Theob. + . go- 243. before^'\ before ; Rowe ii et seq.
ing. Cap. (subs.)
236. Where 5\ Where is Pope et seq. 246. Dolabella,] Separate line, Pope
237. Char.] Iras. Han. et seq.
[Exit Char. Cap. et seq. 249, 250. Farewell, *,ihou /] Ff, Cap.
238. Dolabella.] Ff, Rowe, Pope. One line, Rowe et seq. Dolabella ! Theob. Han. Dyce, Sta. Glo. 25 1 . Jhall ] Jhalt Ff. Cam. Dolabella ? Cap. ct cet.
250, etc. Now Iras, etc.] Mrs Jameson (ii, 152) : But though Geopatra talks of dying *■ after the high Roman fashion,' she fears what she most desires, and cannot perform with simplicity what costs her such an effort. That extreme physical coward- ice, which was so strong a trait in her historical character, which led to the defeat of Actium, which made her delay the execution of a fatal resolve till she had ' tried conclusions infinite of easy ways to die,' Shakespeare has rendered with the finest possible effect, and in a manner which heightens instead of diminishing our respect and interest. Timid by nature, she is courageous by the mere force of will, and she lashes herself up with high-sounding words into a kind of false daring. Her lively imagination suggests every incentive which can spur her on to the deed she has resolved, yet trembles to contemplate. She pictures to herself all the degradations which must attend her captivity ; and let it be observed, that those which she antici- pates are precisely such as a vain, luxurious, and haughty woman would especially dread, and which only true virtue and magnanimity could despise. Cleopatra could have endured the loss of freedom ; but to be led in triumph through the streets of Rome is insufferable. She could stoop to Csesar with dissembling courtesy, and meet duplicity with superior art; but 'to be chastised' by the scornful or upbraiding glance of the injured Octavia — * rather a ditch in Egypt ! '
353 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act v, sc. iL
In Rome afwell as I : Mechanicke Slaues 252
With greazie Aprons, Rules, and Hammers fhall
Vplift vs to the view. In their thicke breathes,
Ranke of grofle dyet, fhall we be enclowded, 255
And forcM to drinke their N'apour.
Iras. The Gods forbid.
CUiK Nay, *tis moil certaine Iras : iawcie Ii£lors Will catch at \-s like Strumpets, and fcald Rimers Ballads N-s out a Tune. The quicke Comedians 260
Extcmporally \^*ill ^^^ vs,and prefent Our Alexandrian Reuels : AntkaKj Shall be brv>ught drunken fortlu and I (hall fee Some K)ueaktng Cl^^f^atra Boy m}* greatneue 264
>40busr}^ ^,xa2rVF F^.R^Mnfc.I^3pCi. KiIt. im^ r' Samt Has. c
^^^ 4iMk» tla«9r T«5««cr] Vn^i^^T X j^. J". .-. 7 r^rai, I- Tr
i^ ^^ *«««« iJAoes Wit JTifttY JC ^rt^ XTtUkT X ,£. T. z. t. Odc^
:iht - «^fjpr»trs^ ' m'>ii,''>. i< tittmrulSi iv «iiiwr?r-n: tmt Bsgs^an^ l^ tbt i^neasE. Lor
"imi^niMiiWirfc. w^ ihr -simr^ lunnr^ — Til. ;
^^ ^tii^tol^'' T'lffWA \ ^mt. of rjnuenm;. laui^iiju^ iwtsrr. djaene. nifl
'*^^^lv^ >v«t tnw*f>». "r-z^fi*?". mthi^ Jhar-^nn- — .ICti^JiKi Tut i'wts^c jrwan?«t. «B.t^
^Kd <4^<ir -XlviwniXrNir. ll^«uscllt'" >» nntt ra. retmV^ X ?^. T. soil Ater H vs. ^^»
>^ «NMivf^» ^wp«r •k'^'w m Ihr <»-a$r* Ir hrres.. — ^"jrwili", it tnr JCwtrir im. fwM^fvi: . nm! iHr m»i«»ii«v »" *^*» ^*^ ''^^ <'* ^smnr Ctt•nnam^•ilm■ msai^ ^hss
ACTV, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 359
I'th'pofture of a Whore. 265
Iras. O the good Gods !
Cleo. Nay that^s certaine.
Iras. He neuer fee't ? for I am fure mine Nailes Are ftronger then mine eyes.
Cleo. Why that's the way to foole their preparation^ 270 And to conquer their moft abfurd intents.
265. /*M'] /*M^ Cap. et seq. 270-273. /'i3;/^tfi5f...Charmian.] As three
266. Gods /] gods forbid ! Words. lines, ending way, ^conquer, . . Charmian,
267. thatW\ that is Steev. Varr. Knt, Rowe et seq.
Coll. Wh. Ktly, Hal. but that's Words. 270. foole\ foil Coll. MS.
268. fee't ] Ff, Rowe, Cap. Dyce, Sta. 271. to conqiur] conquer Ff.
Glo. Cam. see it Pope et cet abfurd ] assured Theob. Han.
/<7wi] a/w Rowe ii. /*»fPope, + , Cap. Coll. (MS), Huds. abhorr'd
Dyce ii, iii. Kinnear.
mine'\ my Yi et seq.
lion and defined the phrase : ' I shall see some boy, performing the part of Cleopatra, as my highness.' Sprenger suggested bow instead of * boy.' Leo in a Review of Sprenger's Emendations {^Sk, Jhrbuch^ xxvii, 1892, p. 223) suggests that punctuation alone is needed to reveal the sense, thus : * Some squeaking Cleopatra boy — my great- ness I'the posture,' etc. He adds, however, a possible emendation of *boy,' which it will do his fine reputation no harm to suppress, especially since he himself set no value on it, and professed his adherence to the Folio. — Ed.
264. squeaking] Deigiiton appositely quotes Hamlet's greeting to the young boy actor : *■ Pray God, your voice, like a piece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the ring.' — II, ii, 407.
264. Boy] W. Poel {^New Sh. Soc. Trans,, 8 Nov. 1889) : Stephen Gosson thus condemns the realistic acting of the boys who assumed women's parts : ' Which way, I beseech you, shall they be excused that put on, not the apparel only, but the gait, the gestures, the voice, the passions of a woman ? '
265. posture] That is, behaviour^ deportment, — Ed.
267. Nay that's certaine] Capell (i, 53) : Though this speech is still left in possession of the place it has always occupy'd, yet it's title is very suspicious: it seems to have nothing to do here ; and more than so, — ^to have been an accidental corruption, crept in by the compositor's heedlessness, who was beginning to print again in this place a speech that he had printed before [line 258, supra'\ ; and besides, — ^the spirit of the maid's declaration concerning her eyes, is weaken'd by the intervention of any thing between that and her exclamation : if the speech must needs stand, for reasons that are not discoverable by the editor, it should at least be made metre of, by reading — Nay, this is certain ; meaning — this which I tell you. — [Capell adopted this change in his Version for Garrick.]
268. mine Nailes] See *your proofe,'— II, ii, 141 ; 'Mine Nightingale,' — IV, Tiii, 24 ; * Vnarme Eros,' — IV, xiv, 45 ; all examples of errors in hearing. Also, if need be, Walker {Crit. i, 318).
271. their most absurd intents] Theobald : "^Tiy should Cleopatra call Caesar's designs * absurd ' ? She could not think his intent of carrying her in triumph, such.
360 THE TRACED IE OF [act v. sc. ii
Enter Charmian. 272
'^o^Charmia7u
Shew me my Women like a Queene : Go fetch My beft Attyres. I am againe for CidruSj 275
To meete Marke Anthony. Sirra IraSy go
273. Cliannian.]Fr,Rowe, + . Char F,F^, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. tnian ! Dyce, Sta. Glo. Cam. Ktly. Char- Dyce, Glo. Cam. Swifts Iras^ Orger. mian f Cap. ct cet. Sirrah, Iras, Johns, et cet
275. Cidnis] Cidnus Rowe, Pope. 276. go'\ go, Rowe. go — Pope, + . Cydnus Theob. go. Cap. et seq.
276. Sirra Iras,] F,. Sirrah Iras,
with regard to his own glory ; and her finding an expedient to disappoint him, could not bring it under that predicament. I much rather think the poet wrote : * Their most assured intents,' t. e. the purposes which they make themselves most sure of accomplishing. — ^Johnson: I have preserved the old reading. The design certainly appeared absurd enough to Cleopatra, both as she thought it unreasonable in itseli^ and as she knew it would fail. — Upton (p. 295) : That is, harsh, grating. Latin, absurdus, ex ab ^/.surdas, d quo aures et animum avertas, Cicero, Pro Rosdo, Sect. 7 : * Fraudavit Roscius. Est hoc quidem auribus animisque [hominum] absur- dum.' Absurdum est, t. e, sounds harsh, grating, unpleasant. — Hudson : ' Absurd' seems to me an absurd reading. — Rolfe : Surely if Oesar's intents are assur'd from his point of view, they are * absurd^ from Cleopatra* s, for she is going to fool them. In the same vein, after she has done this, she calls Cscsar an ' ass unpolicied.' — Murray (A^. E, D. j. t/.) : Adopted from French absurde, an adaptation of Latin absurd-US, inharmonious, tasteless, foolish; formed on ab off, here intensive +xwr4^ deaf, inaudible, insufferable to the ear. 2. Out of harmony with reason or propriety; incongruous, unreasonable, illogical. In modem sense, especially, plainly opposed to reason and hence ridiculous, silly. — [I think Shakespeare has a right to the privi- lege of using < absurd' in its derivative sense. — Ed.]
274, 275, etc. Go fetch My best Attyres, etc.] Mrs Jameson (ii, 154) : She then calls for her diadem, her robes of state, and attires herself as if < again for Cydnus, to meet Mark Antony.' Coquette to the last, she must make Death proud to take her, and die * phoenix like,' as she had lived, with all the pomp of preparation — ^luxurious in her despair. The death of Lucretia, of Portia, of Arria, and others who died 'after the high Roman fashion,' is sublime according to the Pagan ideas of virtue, and yet none of them so powerfully affect the imagination as the catastrophe of Cleo- patra. The idea of this frail, timid, wayward woman, dying with heroism from the mere force of passion and will, takes us by surprise. The attic elegance of her mind, her poetical imagination, the pride of beauty and royalty predominating to the last, and the sumptuous and picturesque accompaniments with which she surrounds her- self in death, carry to its extreme height that effect of contrast which prevails through her life and character. No arts, no invention could add to the real circumstances of Cleopatra's closing scene. Shakespeare has shown profound judgment and feeling in adhering closely to the classical authorities; and to say that the language and senti- ments worthily fill up the outline, is the most magnificent praise that can be given.
276. Sirra Iras] See IV, xv, 105. — Dyce (ed. ii) : Nearly all the modem editors wrongly put a comma between tliese words.
ACT V. sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 361
( Now Noble Ckarmiatty wee'l difpatch indeede,) 277
And when thou haft done this chare, He giue thee leaue To play till Doomefday : bring our Crowne, and all.
A noife within. 280
Wherefore's this noife ?
Enter a Guard/man. Card/. Heere is a rurall Fellow, 283
277. No parentheses, Rowe et seq. 280. [Exit Iras, Charmian falls to ad-
278. thou hafi^ thou'ast Pope, Han. justing Cleopatra's dress. Noise with- tkotist Theob. Warb. Johns. Dyce ii, iii. in. Cap.
279. Doomefday :'\doontS'day — Pope, 280-331. Om. Kemble.
Theob. Han. Warb. dooms-day, Johns. 281. Wherefore's] Wherefore F^F^,
et seq. Rowe, + , Var. ' 73.
283. a rurall Fellow] A. C. Bradley (p. 395) : The Porter [in Macbeth] does not make me smile : the moment is too terrific. He is grotesque ; no doubt the contrast he affords is humorous as well as ghastly ; I dare say the groundlings roared with laughter at his coarsest remarks. But they are not comic enough to allow one to forget for a moment what has preceded and what must follow. And I am far from complaining of this. I believe that it is what Shakespeare intended, and that he despised the groundlings if they laughed. Of course he could have written with- out the least difficulty speeches five times as humorous ; but he knew better. The Grave-diggers make us laugh : the old Countryman who brings the asps to Cleopatra makes us smile at least. But the Grave-digger scene does not come at a moment of extreme tension ; and it is long. Our distress for Ophelia is not so absorbing that we refuse to be interested in the man who digs her grave, or even continue through- out the long conversation to remember always with pain that the grave is hers. It is fitting, therefore, that he should be made decidedly humorous. The passage in Antony and Cleopatra is much nearer to the passage in Macbeth^ and seems to have been forgotten by those who say that there is nothing in Shakespeare resembling that passage.* The old Countryman comes at a moment of tragic exaltation, and the dialogue is appropriately brief. But the moment, though tragic, is emphatically one of exaltation. We have not been feeling horror, nor are we feeling a dreadful suspense. We are going to see Cleopatra die, but she is to die gloriously and to triumph over Octavius. And therefore our amusement at the old Countryman and the contrast he affords to these high passions, is untroubled, and it was right to make him really comic. But the Porter's case is quite different. We cannot forget how the knocking that makes him grumble sounded to Macbeth, or that within a few minutes of his opening the gate Duncan will be discovered in his blood ; nor can we help feeling that in pretending to be porter of hell-gate he is terribly near the truth. To give him language so humorous that it would ask us almost to lose the sense of these things would have been a fatal mistake, — the kind of mistake that means want of dramatic imagination. And that was not the sort of error into which Shakespeare fell.
* Even if this were true, the retort is obvious that neither is there anything resem- bling the murder-scene in Macbeth,
362 THE TRACED IE OF [act v. sc. u.
That will not be deny^de your Highnefle prefence,
He brings you Figges. 285
Cleo, Let him come in. Exit Guard/man.
What poore an Inftrument May do a Noble deede : he brings me liberty : My Refolution*s plac'd, and I haue nothing Of woman in me : Now from head to foote 290
I am Marble conftant : now the fleeting Moone No Planet is of mine.
Enter Guar df man y and Clowne.
Guard/. This is the man.
Cleo. Auoid,and leaue him. Exit Guard/man. 295
Haft thou the pretty worme of Nylus there,
286. 287. Let.,,Inftrument'\ One line, Theob. et seq.
Rowe ct seq. 291. I am\ Pm Pope, + , Dyce ii, iu.
287. What poore an\ How poor an Yiy MarbU conftanf^tnarbU'Constant Rowe, + , Cap. Var. '73, Steev. Var. '03, Cap. ct seq.
'13, Sing. What a poor Var. '78, '85, 293. Clowne.] Clown, with a Basket
Ran. Ktly. Rowe.
288. deede:"] deed f Pope. deed!
287. What poore an Instrument] Abbott (§ 85) : 'What* is here used for kow. — Ibid (§ 422) : We can say *how poor an instrument/ regarding 'how* as an adverb, and 'how poor* as an adverbialized expression, but not, ' What poor an instrument,* because 'what* has almost lost with us its adverbial force. — [In this section Abbott gives many examples of the transposition of the Article.]
291. the fleeting Moone] Warburton : Alluding to the Egyptian devotion paid to the moon under the name of Isis. — [See III, xiii, 183.] — Steevens: I really believe that the poet was not at all acquainted with the devotion that the Egyptians paid to this planet under the name of Isis. ' Fleeting * is inconstant. — [Juliet's words are a sufficing commentary : 'O, swear not by the moon, th* incon- stant moon. That monthly changes in her circled orb.' — II, ii, 109. — Ed.]
293. Enter . . . Clowne] Vischer (vi, p. 175) : The Qown enters with the asp, which Cleopatra had ordered. In him, Shakespeare introduces a dunderhead, who, unwitting of the great act to which he had been summoned, cracks jokes about the bite of the worm of Nilus, and, like the Musicians in Romeo and Juliet ^ the Porter in Macbeth^ and the Grave-diggers in Hamlet, supplies the contrast between the exalted image of death and low ordinary life. It is not too distracting. Genuine tragic emotion is often stimulated thereby, so fearfully does life love to mingle the serious and the comic. — Delius {^Sh. Jahrbuck^ V, p. 268) : This 'rural Fellow* is the Clown of the drama, and consequently uses Clown's language, which is prose embellished with f>erverted words.
296. the pretty worme of Nylus] Johnson : Worm is the Teutonick word for serpent ; we have the blind-worm and slow-worm still in our language, and the Nor- wegians call an enormous monster, seen sometimes in the Northern ocean, the sea^ worm. — Percy ; In the Northern counties, the word worm is still given to the ser-
ACT V, 9C. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 363
That killes and paines not? 297
Clow. Truly I haue him : but I would not be the par- tie that fhould defire you to touch him, for his byting is immortall : thofe that doe dye of it, doe feldome or ne- 300 uer recouer.
Cleo. Remember'ft thou any that haue dyed on't ?
Clow. Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of them no longer then yefterday, a very honeft wo- man, but fomething giuen to lye, as a woman fhould not 305 do, but in the way of honefty, how fhe dyed of the by- ting of it, what paine fhe felt : Truely, fhe makes a verie good report o'thVorme : but he that wil beleeue all that they fay, fhall neuer be faued by halfe that they do : but this is mofl falliable, the Worme's an odde Worme. 310
Cleo. Get thee hence, farewell.
Clow. I wifh you all ioy of the Worme. 312
298-321. Mnemonic, Pope, Warb. Pope, + . felt. Coll. Sing. Wh. felt^ —
302. Remember' Jl'\ Rememberest Dycc, Cap. et cet
Glo. Cam. 308, 309. alL„halfe^ Aa//... a// Theoh,
onW] on it Ktly. i, Han. Warb.
303. manyy'\ many Rowe. 310. falliable'\ fallible Ff et seq.
306. fioneJly^YUQcAS.. Aonesty.Ko'we, odde"] adder QoW. MS.
+ . honesty: Cap. et seq. 312. [setting down his basket. Cap.
307. felt:'\ Ff, Rowe, Glo. Cam. felt!
pent species in general. I have seen a Northumberland ballad, entituled, 7^ laidly Worm of Spindleston HeugheSy i. e. The loathsome or foul serpent of Spindleston Craggs. — [Aspis is an Adder worst and most wicked in venime & in bitiog, & hath that name Aspis, of AspergendOy springing : for he casteth out slaieng venime, and spitteth and springeth out venime by bitings . . . And it followeth there [in Isidore] : Of adders that be called Aspis bee diuers manner kind, and haue diuerse effects and dooings, to noy and to grieue, that is to wit, Dipsas that is called Scytula in Latine. For when he biteth, he slayeth with thirst. Ipalis is a manner adder, that slayeth with sleepe. These manner adders Cleopatra layde by her, and passed out of the lyfe by death, as it were a sleepe. — Batman vppon Bartholomew 15^2, Liber XVIII. Of Aspide. cap. 10, p. 345. — Ed.]
308. 309. but he that wil beleeue all that they say, shall neuer be saued by halfe that they do] Warburton : Shakspeare's clowns are always jokers, and deal in sly satire. It is plain this must be read the contrary way, and all and half change places. — [Any conmient on the foregoing is impertinent Warburton' s dog- matism overawed Theobald in his first edition, but his common sense asserted itself in his second. — Ed.]
310. most falliable] Walker {^Crit, iii, 312) : Does this 'falliable' belong to the Clown or to the old printer ? — [I think to the old printer. What is comic in Shakespeare's Clowns generally lies in the perversion of words and phrases. — Ed.]
364 ^^^ TRACED IE OF [act v. sc n.
CUo. Farewell. 313
Clow. You mud thinke this ( looke you,) that the
Worme will do his kinde. 315
Clt'o. I, I, farewell. CtiKi\ Looke you, the Worme is not to bee tnifted,
but in the keeping of i^-ife people : for indeede, there is
no goodnefie in the Worme,
CUo. Take thou no care, it (hall be heeded. 320
Cttyu\ Ver\' good : giue it nothing I pray you, for it
is not worth the Seeding. lVa\ Will it eate me ? Ciinc^ You mud not think I am fo umple, but I know
the diuell himielie wili not eate a woman : I know, that 325
a woman is a diih for the Gods« if the cSoeU dreue her
iK>t. But truK%theie tame whortoa c&oels doe the Gods
great harme in their wtxnen : for in eoery tcmie that they
iaake« the <!t:se!s aurre fioe.
iT^. Wclt^g^ thee gooc &rew^eiL 330
c w«r^ Yes Sxivth : I with voc i?v o*th*woreB. ExsZ i^v. Gtuie Q» c:::\* Robe, pet cc c=y Crowae. I liaiie
IflBKTfiOctall 5oc^:{zgs ia cae. Xow eo oore
Yji:T*^ytiir^* g>»i -*5cr : v^'iicis : lie rhnrlcrg I kexre 335
AtiAum cxI : I tee 5zxn n^vtie kzxsKiJiie
Ts> rraSf 3rr N<?oue A^i I icjr^ &nii tcock
•» •»
Tbf Cijc3» ciT Cur. ar^ wdn^L lie G:^ CTie asisa 33S
^iNi itu^ "tftr J^^iW Itis r^ ia& putL'ia: /^IsMS^nmak.TJF^.
Xiter. X«t. ^*x«, :*5iu -.^c. >r.:aB. f m ^iriti&v a- ^et :^^»«^>i% ?^*jnei ^<M»«i. "tntms. <
«S ^•rfl. ^ ^m ^lrti%tl^^ »rHM5<rH ^Th* ^cnivoc wtt *2:
ACT V, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA
36s
To excufe their after wrath. Husband, I come :
Now to that name, my Courage proue my Title,
I am Fire, and Ay re ; my other Elements
I giue to bafer life. So, haue you done ?
Come then, and take the laft warmth of my Lippes
Farewell kinde C/uzmtiaUy IraSy long farewell.
Haue I the Afpicke in my lippes ? Doft fall ?
340
345
339. To excu/e] T* excuse Pope, + , Dyce ii, iii.
after wrath'] afler-wrath Rowe 11, -f.
[Goes to a Bed, or Sopha, which she ascends ; her Women compose her on it ; Iras sets the basket, which she has been holding upon her own arm, by her. Cap.
341. I atn\ Pm Dyce ii, iii.
342. to\ no FjF^.
5tf,] Ff, Cap. So; Glo. Cam.
So — Rowe et seq. (subs.)
344. Charmian,] Charmion. Johns. Charmian ; Theob. Cap. et seq.
[Kissing them. Han. ... Iras falls. Cap.
[Applying the Asp. Rowe.
345. [To Iras. Pope. ... who falls down. Han.
[Iras, who has had the aspics in the basket on her arm, sinks down and dies. Kemble.
338, 339. which the Gods giue . . . after wrath] Rev. John Hunter : The notion of good fortune in this world justifying the gods in reversing it in the next world, was founded on the parable of Dives and Lazarus, Luke^ xvi, 25. — ^Words- worth : A genuine heathen sentiment : see Herod. Ill, 40. — [Dr Wordsworth also refers to his own Book, Shakespear^s Knowledge and Use of the Bible^ where (p. 1 14, et seq. ) the attempt is made to show that Shakespeare is wont to make religious senti- ments conform to the religion of the speaker, whether Heathen or Christian.]
339. Husband] This sanctifies her love for Anthony ; in this one sacred word we hear Shakespeare's last appeal to us for her pardon, — like < the heavenly voice ' breathing forth, in Gretchen*s dungeon, * sie ist gerettet ! ' — Ed.
341. Fire, and Ayre ; my other Elements] Malone : So in Henry the Fifths * he is pure air and fire ; and the dfiH elements of earth and water never appear in him.' — [III, vii, 22. This is in the Dauphin's description of his horse, and Madden (p. 261) shows that this reference to the elements, in this connection, has, in old writers on farriery, more significance than is at once apparent. Cleopatra here uses ' elements ' as referring to the materials of which man is composed. See note on III, ii, 47.— Ed.]
342. I giue to baser life] Theobald (Nichols, ///ust. ii, 511) : I have imagined we should read, * to baser earth* i. e, as we say in the Service for the dead, ' Dust to dust, ashes to ashes ' ; or as in Wills, * I give my body to the earth,* etc. — [This con- jecture was not repeated in Theobald's edition.] — Deighton : I leave to be eaten by worms.
345. Dost fall ?] Capell (i, 53) : The Poet's great attention to nature in the death of these three persons, is extremely remarkable. It does not appear in any preceding edition, which way Iras comes by her death; the direction [given in Text, Note^ 339] was intended to shew it : Iras, either in setting down the basket, or in leaning over it to take her farewell, gets a bite from an asp ; and being it's first bite« when it's poison was most vigorous, she dies almost instandy : The exulting and
366 THE TRACE DIE OF [act v, sc. iL
If thou^ and Nature can fo gently part, 346
The ftroke of death is as a Louers pinch,
Which hurts, and is defir'd. Doft thou lye ftill /
If thus thou vanifheft, thou telPft the world.
It is not worth leaue-taking. 350
Char. Diflblue thicke clowd, & Raine, that I may fay The Gods themfelues do weepe.
Cleo. This proues me bafe : If fhe firft meete the Curled Anthony ^ Hee^l make demand of her, and fpend that kiffe 355
349. vanijhe/f\ vanquishest Rowe ii. KUy.
350. leaue-taking\ leave taking Yl^ 354. firft meete\ proves Ff. approves Rowe, Warb. Rowe. first should meet (then should
[Iras dies. Pope. erased) Coll. MS.
353. ba/e:'\ base — Rowe, + . base. Curled '\ cur/edV^.
triumphing manner that Cleopatra goes off in, shews the flow of her spirits, and her death is partly lengthen'd by that ; partly, as we may conjecture, by her taking the weaken'd asp first to apply to her breast ; when the fresh one is apply'd to her aim, she vanishes as her woman had done : The poison of both being weaken'd. Charm- ian*s death is protracted of course : and if we further suppose her to have taken by accident the aspick that her partner had dy'd by, this will account for her words — * I partly feel thee* ; and her exclamation in dying, which seems to indicate some- thing of pain. — Steevens : Iras must be supposed to have applied an asp to her arm while her mistress was settling her dress, or I know not why she should fall so soon. — [This note of Steevens is quoted in substance or verbally, without dissent, by Dyce, Staunton, The Cowden-Clarkes, Hudson, Rolfe, Deighton.] — Halliwell quotes the following remarks by * Anon.* (which appear in The Gentlemat^s Maga.^ 1790, Ix, p. 127) : * I apprehend a mistake in the stage-direction, — that it should be. Applying the asp to IraSy in order to see the effect of the poison, and the paiin she had to encounter in death. The asp might be applied to Iras, either with or without her consent. This opinion is strengthened by Cleopatra saying, **This calls me base," as it could not be base in Cleopatra, that Iras did it without her consent ; but the baseness must be in her own want of resolution, and in the murder of Iras. When Cleopatra says, *< Come thou mortal wretch," I should suppose that Cleopatra then applied the first asp to her own breast.* — The Cowden-Clarkes : Throughout this scene, Iras has shown eagerness for death ; witness her words, — * Finish, good lady ; the bright day is done, and we are for the dark ' ; and * I'll never see it ; I am sure my nails are stronger than mine eyes.* — Delius : Steevens's assumption finds no support whatever in the text Shakespeare wished to make it clear that Iras died of the grief which taking leave of her mistress caused her. — [Thus, also, the Cambridge Editors, who remark {^Note viii.) : * The context implies that the cause of [Iras' s] death was grief at the leave-taking,* which is also the opinion of the present Editor. We have already had an instance in this play where a broken heart has caused death, and, moreover, where the victim was a strong, vigorous man. — Ed.]
355. Hee'l make demand of her] Johnson : He will enquire of her concerning me, and kiss her for giving him intelligence.
ACT V, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TEA 367
Which is my heauen to haue.Come thou mortal wretch, 356
With thy fharpe teeth this knot intrinficate,
Of life at once vntye : Poore venomous Foole,
Be angry, and difpatch. Oh could'ft thou fpeake.
That I might heare thee call great Ccsfar Affe, vnpolicied. 360
Char, Oh Eafterne Starre.
Cleo. Peace, peace : 362
356-359. Mnemonic, Warb. 357. [To the serpent. Pope. ...apply-
356. thou^ Om. Pope, + , Cap. Stcev. ing it to her breast. Han. Var. '03, '13, Words. 358. [stirring it. Cap.
[to the Asp ; applying it to her 360. AJfe^ ass Var. '78 et. seq.
Breast. Cap. vnpolicied.'] Separate line. Pope
357, 358. intrinficate^ ^f ^^fi^ intrin- et seq.
sieate Of ti/e, Fope. intrinsicate Of life 362-364. Mnemonic, Pope, Warb.
Theob. et seq. (intrinsecate Cap. Errata.)
355. and spend that kisse] A. S. G. Canning (Sh, Studied in Eight Plays^ p. 161) : There is really nothing truly pathetic in these tragic events, if calmly con- sidered. Cleopatra's jealous dread of Iras dying first, lest Antony should take a fancy to her, is almost ludicrous, according to modem ideas. — [Ah, for one hour of Dyce, — with his exclamation marks. — Ed.]
357. this knot intrinsicate] Warburton : The expression is fine ; it signifies a hidden, secret (intrinsecus) knot, sis that which ties soul and body together. — Edwards (p. 184) : How, secret as that which ties soul and body together? Why, it is that very knot she speaks of. But, what a lingua franca is here I a secret intrinsecus knot ! How long has intrinsecus been an adjective? and, if it be not, how will he construe the sentence ? Had our critic read Shakspeare with any atten- tion, he might have known, that he uses intrinsecate for intricate, entangled, or tied in hard knots ; * Like rats, oft bite the holy cords in twain. Too intrinsecate to unloose.' Had it signified hidden, secret, it could no more have been bitten in ttoain, than untied, before it was found out. — Murray {^N. E. D.) : Apparently formed on Italian intrinsecato, familiar, confused in sense with intricato, intricate. Equivalent to intricate, involved, entangled. [Four references follow ; 1 560, Whitehome, Arte Warre; 1599, Jonson, Cynthia's Revels, V, ii ; Marston, Scourge of VtUanie ; and the present passage in Ant. <5r* Cleop.^
360. Asse, vnpolicied] Steevens : That is, an ass without more policy than to leave the means of death within my reach, and thereby deprive his triumph of its noblest decoration.— [Steevens did not improve the text, I think, when, in the Vari- orum of 1778, he expunged the comma after * Asse.' A pause after the word, enforced by this comma, seems, to me at least, to impart an emphasis, with concentrated bitter- ness, to *unpolicied.' — Ed.]
362. Peace, peace] Mrs Jameson (ii, 155) : The magical play of fancy and the overpowering fascination of the character are kept up to the last ; and when Cleo- patra, on applying the asp, silences the lamentations of her women — * Peace ! peace I Dost thou not see my baliy at my breast. That sucks the nurse to sleep ? * These few words — the contrast between the tender beauty of the image and the horror of the situation — produce an affect more intensely mournful than all the ranting in the
368 THE TRAGEDIE OF [act v, sc. u.
Doft thou not fee my Baby at my bread, 363
That fuckes the Nurfe afleepe.
Char. O breake ! O breake J 365
Cleo, As fweet as Balme, as foft as Ayre, as gentle.
O Antlwny \ Nay I will take thee too. 367
364. afleepe.'\ asleep? Rowe ii. (subs.)
366. gentle,^ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Han. 367. [Applying another Asp to her
Coll. Wh. Ktly, Hal. gentle^ Theob. arm. Theob.
Warb. Johns, gentle — Cap. et cet. 367, 368. Nay...Jlay'\ Om. Kemble.
world. The generous devotion of her women adds to the moral charm which alone was wanting : and when Octavius hurries in too late to save his victim, and exdaims when gazing on her — ' She looks like sleep — As she would catch another Antony In her strong toil of grace,' the image of her beauty and her irresistible arts, triumphant even in death, is at once brought before us, and one masterly and comprehensive stroke consummates this most wonderful, most dazzling delineation.
363. at my breast] Bucknill (p. 221) : It is curious that Shakespeare makes Qeopatra apply the aspic both to the breast and to the arm, since we find a discussion in old Primrose's Popular Errors^ on this point Primrose does not appear to have read Shakespeare, or with his love of reference he would certainly have shewn it In his chapter on the mountebank's antidote, he says : — * And now the story of Cleo- patra comes to my minde. Petrus Victorius blames the painters, that paint Cleo- patra applying the aspe to her paps, seeing it is manifest out of Plutarch^ in the Life of AntoniuSy and out of Plinie likewise, that she applyed it to her arme. Zon- aras relates that there appeared no signe of death upon her save two blew ^x>ts on her arme. Casar also in her statute which he carryed in triumph, applyed the aspe to her arme : For in the armes there are great veines and arteries, which doe quickly and in a straight way convey the venome to the heart, whereas in the paps the vessels are slender, which, by sundry circumvolutions onely, do lead to the heart.'
364. That suckes the Nurse asleepe] Steevens : Before the publication of this piece, The Tragedy of Cleopatra^ by Daniel, 1 594, had made its appearance ; but Dryden is more indebted to it than Shakspeare. Daniel has the following address to the asp : * Better than death death's office thou dischargest, That with one gentle touch can free our breath ; And in a pleasing sleep our soul enlargest, Making our- selves not privy to our death. Therefore come thou, of wonders wonder chief, That open canst with such an easy key The door of life ; come gentle, cunning thief, That from ourselves so steal' st ourselves away.' [See Dryden's All for Love in Appendix^
364. asleepe] Theobald proves by quotations from Lucius Florus, Solxnus, Propertius, Lucan, and Ovid, that Shakespeare was justified in thus attributing a somnolent effect to the venom of the asp. The proof is not now needed. Batman vppon Bartholome is authority sufficient for the popular belief in Shakespeare's day. Probably, no one, however, among tbe early editors was as competent as Theobald to furnish, ofif-liand, such an array of learning. — Ed.
367. I will take thee too] Theobald : 'Tis certain, Cleopatra is here desgn'd to apply one aspick to her arm, as she had before clap'd one to her breast. Dion Cassius, in the 51st Book of his Roman History is express as to small punctures of the asp being discover'd only on her arm. And Plutarch [verifies it] Strabo, Vcl-
ACTV, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 369
What fhould I ftay Dyes. 368
Char. In this wilde World ? So fare thee well :
368. What^ Why Coll. MS. Cleop. Elze.
Dyes. ] falls on a bed, and dies. 369. wilde] F,. rdle Cap. Sing. Dycci
Mai. Sta. Glo. Cam. Ktly, Hal. Wh. ii. wild
369. /» ... World 11 Continued to F^F^ et cet.
leius Paterculns, Eutropius, and Lucius Florus leave this matter as much at large. Leonardo Augustini, among his antique gems, exhibits one of Cleopatra upon an agot, with an aspick biting her right breast. And Strada, the Mantuan Antiquary, who gives us a medal of this princess, says, that she died by serpents applied to her breasts. And Domitius Calderinus, upon the 59th Epigram of the ivth Book of Martial, says precisely, that she procured her own death by applying Asps to her breast and arm.
368. Dyes] Sir Thomas Browne ( Vulgar Errors, Book V, Chap, xii, p. 291, ed. 1672) : The picture concerning the death of Cleopatra with two Asps or venem- ous Serpents unto her arms, or breasts, or both, requires consideration : for therein (beside that this variety is not excusable) the thing it self is questionable ; nor is it indisputably certain what manner of death she died. Plutarch in the life of Antony plainly delivereth, that no man knew the manner of her death ; for some affirmed she perished by poison, which she always carried in a little hollow comb, and wore it in her hair. Beside, there were never any Asps discovered in the place of her death, although two of her Maids perished abo with her ; only it was said, two small and almost insensible pricks were found upon her arm ; which was all the ground that Casar had to presume the manner of her death. Galen who was contemporary unto Plutarch, delivereth two wayes of her death : that she killed her self by the bite of an Asp, or bit an hole in her arm, and poured poison therein. Strabo that lived before them both hath also two opinions ; that she died by the bite of an Asp, or else a poisonous ointment We might question the length of the Asps, which are sometimes described exceeding short ; whereas the Chersaea or land- Asp which most conceive she used, is above four cubits long. Their number is not unquestionable ; for whereas there are generally two described, Augustus (as Plutarch relateth) did carry in his triumph the Image of Cleopatra but with one Asp unto her arm. • As for the two pricks, or little spots in her arm, they infer not their plurality : for like the Viper, the Asp hath two teeth ; whereby it left this impression, or double puncture behind it. And lastly, We might question the place ; for some apply them unto her breast, which notwithstanding will not consist with the History; and Petrus Vic- tortus hath well observed the same. But herein the mistake was easie ; it being the custom in capital malefactors to apply them unto the breast, as the Author De The- riaca ad Pisonem, an eye witness hereof in Alexandria, where Cleopatra died, determincth : I beheld, saith he, in Alexandria, how suddenly these Serpents bereave a man of life; for when any one is condemned to this kind of death, if they intend to use him favourably, that is, to dispatch him suddenly, they fasten an Asp unto his breast; and bidding him walk about, he presently perisheth thereby.
369. In this wilde World] Capell (i, 53; reading vile) : Speaking them after a pause ; with eyes fix'd upon her dend mistress, and a look of the tenderest affection. Vile was spelt — vilde, when this play was in penning, which occasioned the present corruption ; for so * wilde ' will be thought by most readers, who bestow a little reflec-
24
370 THE TRACED IE OF [act v. sc iL
Now boaft thee Death, in thy poffeflion lyes 370
A LalTe vnparalell'd. Downie Windowes cloze.
And golden Phoebus, neuer be beheld
Of eyes againe fo Royall : your Crownes away, 373
371. Laffi\ /«« Sprengcr. araeay. FjF^t Rowc i. Crowns awry
373, Crcvmes it»ay\ F,. Cnmms Rowe ii. crown*! awry Pope et cet.
tion npcm the difference between the two words in p(»nt of propriety. — Steevkns : I suppose she means by this wild woiid, this world which by the death of Antony is become a desert to her. A wild is a desert. Our author, however, might have writ- ten wild (Le, vile according to ancient spelling), ibr worthless. — CoLXl£& (ed. ii) : There is not the slightest pretext for altering ' wild * to the commonplace vile^ as has been done under the supposition that vile having been of old often misprinted vilde (a fonn to which the Rev. Mr Dyce strangely adheres), it was in this place mistaken for * wild.^ Charmian might well call the world ' wild,* desezl, and savage, after die deaths of Antony, Oeopatra, and others whom she loved. This passage is another proof how the corruption of vild^ where vile was intended, makes confnsion in the beads of editors &s well as in the texts of dramatists ; if vile had not somedmes been misprinted rild^ nobody would have thought of amending 'wild world* to *mU world.'' If any change were made, we should prefer here wide to vile; but in truth it is an offence against all just rules of criticism to attempt an emendation where Wfut is required. — R. G. White (ed. i) : There is not sufBdent justification for the chan^ [to s^]. At that time the world seemed wild enough to p)oor Chaxmiaa. — Drci (ed. i) : Capell saw ^what is plain enough) that vilde had been by mistake transianBed into < wilde.^ (The folio, with its usual inconsistency of ^>elling, has in some placo •vild' and 'vilde,' — in others *vile.^) — ^Ibid. (ed. ii) : On the above remark [cf Collier] I have to remark : — First, That 1 no longer * adhere ' to the old spcDiag vild. . . . SecoTuily, That the passages in early books where xrild {i. e. vile) is mis- printed wild are so very numerous, that there can be no doubt of the same error hav- ing been committed in the passage now under cnn^deration. We meet with the kA- lowii^; examples in the plays of Beaumont & Fletcher : — ' I will not lose a word To this Tttild [read vild^ 7iile'] woman,' etc — The Maid^s Tragedy^ III, i ; * Thai now dares sty 1 am a stranger, not the siune, Taort. wild [read wtii/= ttZt],' etc — The Faithful Shepherdess^ IV, iv ; « To do these wild [so the first 410, the later 4iOt r»?7(7, folio 1679 vile] unmanly things.' — 7^ Scornful Lady^ III, i; *Or am I cf « wild [read vild'^ 7nle'\ and low a blood,' etc — The Little French Lswyer^ III, v. Thirdly, That * vih world^ which Collier terms a * commonplace phrase,* occurs in a passage of 2 Henry X'l : V, ii, a passage which (as it is not found in The First Fert of the Conten/wfk, etc. ) ve may confidently ascribe to Shakespeare : — * O, let 4e xii.K WORIJ) end. And the promised flames of the last day. Knit earth and heava together!' Fourthly, That * wide,' [Collier's sui^estion,] has uo |MU|jiiet» here, not being (whrU is obviously required) a vituperative cpitheL — [* Wild' seemSi I think, t«x> weak in Charmian' s mouth, in comparison with vile. — ^El\.]
571. Downie Windowes] Mai,one : 5>o, in Venm and Adonis • * Her two htac 7find,iws faintly she upheaveth.'
373. your Crownes away] Johnson : This is wcD amended [«^»^■] Vy Ae editoT?i. — Jamfs Nichoi* (ii, 3) : Thus arrayed [in her robe and C7own3 Qcc^iita applies the a^ck, — its p(»son acts qnidcly and pamlwsly; life soon «/v-— j** tc its
ACTV, sc. n.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 371
He mend it^and then play
Enter the Guard rujlling iuy and Dolabelku 375
374. play ] Ff, Rowe + , Var. seq.
»73, Coll. Wh. i, Ktly. //dry. Cap. ct cet. 375. and DolabdUu] Om. Rowe et
375. rudling in,] rushing in, Rowe et seq.
influence, and as she dies, her head naturally falls backward on the couch, and the crown, compressed between the back of the head and the couch, necessarily springs *away* from the forehead. This Cbarmian perceives, and says, *your crown's away ; I'll mend it,' which she does by drawing it gently down again. — Dyce, in his first edition, quoted Steevens's note on line 374. In his second edition he added an extract from North's Plutarch wherein Charmian is described as trinmiing the diadem which Cleopatra wore upon her head ; he then concluded as follows : ' The addition I have now made to my original note on this passage has been called forth by the thrice-foolish attempt to defend the blunder of the Folio, * away,' [in the foregoing note by James Nichols].' — [Surely, no one, after reading Nichols's note, will approve of Dyce's intemperate words. For myself, I think the note, in its praise- worthy attempt to vindicate the Folio, is eminently just, and am ready to share any condemnation which may properly fall on its writer. In itself, the phrase *your crown's away ' is more smooth and liquid than the crooked, harsh ' your crown's awry.* The sole objection to • away * that I can perceive (and it is trivial) is the rhyme with ' play,' in the next line; but the words can be so spoken that the rhyme will be unnoticeable. Dyce's baptismal name was well bestowed; he considered Shakespeare as his exclusive realm, and in this realm, * Like Alexander he would reign. And he would reign alone,' — woe to any one who ventured a foothold there ! Collier always believed that Dyce's bitter and inappeasible hostility dated from the discovery that he was preparing an edition of Shakespeare. A. E. Brae, an unusually keen critic, was another of Dyce's aversions. Brae was, by profession, a dentist ; there- fore, presumably, Dyce felt less compunction in attacking him, certainly tooth, and pos- sibly nail. Ingleby, too, received one of Dyce's bitterest strokes. Lettsom appears to have been the only exception in Dyce's horizon, and to him Dyce paid homage throughout his second edition. The emendation 'awry,' be it observed, is Rowe's, not Pope's, to whom it is almost universally attributed. Steevens quotes the corre- sponding passage in Daniels' Tragedie of Cleopatra^ 1594: — * And sencelesse, in her sinking downe she wryes The Diademe which on her head she wore : Which Char- mion (poore weake feeble maid) espies. And hastes to right it as it was before. For Eras now was dead.' — line 165 1, ed. Grosart. — Ed.]
374. and then play ] Steevens : That is, play her part in this tragic scene
by destroying herself; or she may mean, that having performed her last office for her mistress, she will accept the permission given her (in lines 278, 279) to * play till doomsday.' — [I know of no explanation of these words other than Steevens* s, which seems to have been universally adopted ; but the fact that the sentence is broken off renders possible a different conclusion. I cannot believe that the dis- regard of this long dash after * play,' in the Folio, is judicious. It is of rare occur- rence, at least in this play, and should be, therefore, all the more observed. In proof of its rarity, see line 378, where it should be, but is not. After line 368, above, it has been by all editors punctiliously retained ; I think that so it should have been here. — Ed.]
372
THE TRACED IE OF
[act V, sc. U.
I Guard. Where's the Queene? Char. Speake foftly, wake her not I Ccefar hath fent Char. Too flow a Meflenger. Oh come apace^ difpatch, I partly feele thee.
1 Approach hoa,
All's not well : Ccefat^s beguild.
2 There's Dolabella fent from Cafar : call him. I What worke is heere Charmian ?
Is this well done ?
Char. It is well done, and fitting for a Princefle Defcended of fo many Royall Kings. Ah Souldier. Charmian dyes.
Enter Dolabella.
Dol. How goes it heere ?
2.Guard. All dead.
Dol. Cce/ar y thy thoughts Touch their effefls in this : Thy felfe art comming To fee perform'd the dreaded Aft which thou So fought'ft to hinder.
Enter Ccefar and all his Trainey marching.
376
380
38s
390
395
376. Wi^^'j]Ff,Rowe,Pope,Theob. Warb. Where is Han. Johns, et seq.
378. fent'\fent. Ff, Theob. i. sent— Rowe et cet.
[Charmian and Iras apply the Asp. Rowe. Charmian applies the Asp. Pope.
380. come apace ^difpatch ^'\ Ff, Rowe, Pope, Theob. Han. Warb. Dyce, Sta.Glo. Cam. comCf apacCf dispa/ch ; Caip. come; apace ; dispatch ; Coll. Wh. Hal. come. Apace ^ dispatch. Johfis. et cet. (subs.)
380. I parily\ now^ now I Kemble.
381, 382. Approach ... begttild'[ One line, Theob. et seq.
3^1 3^5* What,.,dom/'\ One line, Rowe et seq.
386. // «] irs F,F^, Rowe.
388. Sou/dier.}FJ^^. soldiers / Kow^ + . Souldier I F^, Cap. et seq.
Charmian dyes.] Char, and lias die. Rowe.
396. Enter...] Enter Cesar and At- tendants. Rowe.
385. Is this well done ?] Singer : This refers to a deception. Charmian, whispered by Qeopalra, went out to manage the introduction of the Gown with the asps. — R. G. White gives a similar explanation, which might be accepted were it not that the question is exactly copied from North's Pltitarch^ where the Guard could not have known of Charmian's agency in the matter. Charmian's reply, moreover, shows that it refers to the dead queen. — Ed.]
392, 393. thy thoughts Touch their efifedts in this] That is, thy forebodings are realised here.
ACT V, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPA TRA 373
AIL A way there, a way for Ccsfar. 397
DoL Oh fir, you are too fure an Augurer: That you did feare, is done.
Ccefar. Braueft at the laft, 400
She leuellM at our purpofes, and being Royall Tooke her owne way : the manner of their deaths, 402
397. All.] Within. Cap. Without Sta. line as quotation. Glo. Cam.
A way...wav'] Make way there ^ 400. Brauejf^ Bravest Dyce ii, iii.
make way F F^, Rowe, Pope, Theob. the laft'\ last Pope, + .
Warb. Johns. Alake way there ^ way Han. 401. purpo/e5\ purpose Pope, + .
A way there^ way Cap. Steev. Var. '03, 402. way .*] way. Pope et seq.
*I3. A way there^ make way Var. '73. their deaths^ F,F . her Deaths?
Way there, way Walker. The whole F^. their deaths f Rowe et seq.
401. purposes] For the concluding j see I, iv, 11. Dyce conjectured purpose, not knowing that he had been virtually anticipated by Walker, and that Walker had been anticipated by Pope.
401. and being Royall] Hunter (ii, 290) : This passage is left without any annotation, and yet there is meaning in it which many readers might not discover. Dollabella had alluded to the augurs. This introduces the idea of the flight of birds ; this the idea of hawking ; and Cleopatra, brave in her death, is represented under the image of a hawk levelling at the purposes of her conqueror, and rendering them dead or ineffectual. The idea of hawking introduced the idea of other field-sports, and to the hawk Shakespeare transfers the attribute of a hart-royal, which had the privilege of roaming at large unmolested, and taking its own way to its lair. Thus Qeopatra being * royal * had * taken her own way * in self-destruction. In The Gentleman* s Recreation, p. 6, the liberty of the hart-royal is thus described : — ' If the King or Queen shall happen to hunt or chase a hart, and he escape with life, he shall ever after be called a hart-royal ; but if he fly so far from the forest or chase that it is unlikely he will ever return of his own accord to the place aforesaid, and that proclamation be made in all towns and villages thereabout, that none shall kill or offend him, but that he may safely return, if he list, he is then called a hart royal proclaimed.'' — Madden (p. 19) : The male red deer is now ordinarily called a stag, the female a hind, and the young a calf. . . . But if you would speak in the strict language of woodcraft, you would call him in the first year * a Hind calfe, or a calfe, the second yeere you shall call him a Broket ; . . . the sixt yeere you shall call him a Hart. . . . But if the king or queene doe hunt or chace him, and he escape away aliue, then after such a hunting or chacing he is called Hart Royall.' — Manwood, ne Forest Lawes, 159S. Thenceforth, after proclamation, he was free to return to the forest from whence he came, and no man might meddle with a hart royal pro- claimed. Hunter suggests [as above] that when C(esar said of Cleopatra that she * being royal, Took her own way/ the licence accorded to the hart royal to go his own way was present to his mind ; and certainly instances may be found in Shake- speare of similar conceits. The stag, or hart, at six years of age should have acquired ' his rights,' — that is to say, the brow, bay, and trey anders — and two points on top of each horn. The modem use of the term ' royal ' to denote a stag with all his rights and three on top, is altogether inaccurate, and without warranty of any writer of authority on woodcraft.
374 ^^^ TRAGEDJE OF [act v, sc. iL
I do not fee them bleede. 403
DoL Who was laft with them ?
I Guard.A fimple Countryman, that broght hir Figs: 405 This was his Basket.
Cafar. Poyfon'd then.
I .Guard. Oh Cce/ar : This Charmian liu'd but now, fhe ftood and fpake : I found her trimming vp the Diadem ; 410
On her dead Miftris trembHngly (he flood, And on the fodaine dropt
Ca/ar, Oh Noble weakeneffe : If they had fwallow^d poyfon, ^twould appeare By extemall fwelling : but (he lookes like fleepe, 415
As (he would catch another Anthony In her (brong toyle of Grace.
Doi. Heere on her breft, There is a vent of Bloud, and fomething blowne. The like is on her Anne. 420
1 .Guard. This is an Afpickes traile. And thefe Figge-leaues haue fUme vpon them, fuch As th*Af[Mcke leaues vpon the Caues of Nyle. 423
405. ^mgk/ Ai>] F,. 415. Br^ By sawu Cap. coig.
4o8w 1. Guard.] l G«iiL Roweii, Pbpe, e^trmaU^ extern Walker.
TVobw WarK 4x5, 416. HJke ... Anthoor] One
Catfiur :] Oesar ! Rowe^ + . Casar^ Cap. cooj.
OfK et seq. 419L ilaume.1 iiawM : Tbeoix et set}.
4l<\ 411. Diaiiem: ...Jixfiris^ Dia- 421-423. 71jcr..^\V^] Lines coding,
dem : ... Mi/iris^ K^. DiaUewty, . . . Mifiris^ ^eumes. . Jeama^^^yie JqIuh. Vat * 73 et
Fy Rowe. Diadem : ,..Jiijiri/s F^. Ma^ seq.
dem...mi::tress^ I^>pe« Han. diadem... 421. £r] Om. FC
wnstress : Tbeob. et ceL A/pukef^ Afpects F£
413. weakenejfe .] weaJkmess ! Rove ii [pomdiig tu> tlie Floor. Cap.
etseq. 425- iM\4/puix\ TZ^ Bujrm^-^^ Dyce
4L4> fwaitata J'\ ftvaUawed F^F^, ii» til. tkt aspick Cap. el ceL
Rove L uenarx] rtfb£r Bailer.
appeare'\ appear. FT, Rowe L Camez\ camrre Pezring.
414» 415. "twoold appeare B^r eater nalt sweHm^J Bucx^zu. yp. 22i> ciaotts from Ward's Diary : — *■ Wbea eoe was pobooed at CovenCne, hee w«s taken vl^ oet of his gptve ; but as the apotbecaiie said the earth would keep him from swcian^ » that QO judgemefit could be made thereby ; but beixxg opened^ ther &nnid t&e poisoa io his stomach.' — MoYSS 1 p. 5$^ : [This speech of Cjcsbt] e^ridently *— **f«<Wi* a yopaJar beSief, though what has given rise to it is ooC dear
419. aomecbrng blowne] J* u >^son : The t)esh is somewhat pmfed or rmWa 41^ v^QQ thft Cinn> of H^dbt] HmrtSB. (it» 291) r Mr Banr haa s^BB^iKd tt»
ACTV, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 375
Cce/ar. Moft probable That fo fhe dyed : for her Phyfitian tels mee 425
She hath purfu'de Conclufions infinite Of eafie wayes to dye. Take vp her bed, And beare her Women from the Monument, She fhall be buried by her Anthony,
No Graue vpon the earth fhall clip in it 430
A payre fo famous : high euents as thefe Strike thofe that make them : and their Story is No lefle in pitty,then his Glory which Brought them to be lamented. Our Army fhall In folemne fhew, attend this Funerall, 435
And then to Rome. Come DolabellUy fee High Order, in this great Solmemnity. Exeunt otnnes 437
FINIS.
431. famous .•] famous, Rowe ct seq. 437. Solmemnity\ F,.
me that for ' caves ' we should read canes^ the reeds of Nile. This reading may be supported by the following passage in the writings of Bishop Taylor : — * The canes of Egypt, when they newly arise from their bed of mud and slime of Nilus, start into equal and continual length, and are interrupted with hard knots/ etc. — Collier. (ed. i) : It is very obvious that the aspick might leave its slime upon the 'caves' of Nile as well as upon the cams of Nile. — Hudson : Alexandria was supplied with water brought from the Nile in underground canals; which may be the caves meant.
426. She hath pursu'de Conclusions infinite] Steevens : To * pursue con- clusions/ is to try experiments. So, in Hamlet : *• like the famous ape, To try coH' elusions^ etc. [Ill, iv, 194.] Again, in Cymbeline : *• I did amplify my judgment in Oihtx conclusions.^ [I, v, 17.]
427. Of easie wayes to dye] Steevens : Such was the death brought on by the aspick' s venom. Thus Lucan, lib. ix, 815 : 'At tibi, Leve miser, fixus prsecordia pressit Niliac& serpente cruor; nuUoque dolore Testatus morsus, subitA caligine mortem Accipis, et Stygias somno descendis ad umbras.' — [Singer takes, without acknowledgement, this quotation from Steevens, as is evident from his copying an error in the numbering of the lines, and Steevens took it, without acknowledgement, from Theobald, who, as we have seen, gives a wealth of classical references to this subject. — Ed.]
430. shall clip] Steevens : That is, enfold. See II, vii, 80 ; and IV, viii, 10.
431-434. high euents as these . . . lamented] Capell (i, 54) : The concise- ness of this reflection, and of that it is follow'd by, is attended with some obscurity ; but the meaning of them seems to be this : — The very causers of events like the pres- ent, cannot help being touch* d by them : and the pitifulness of them will set them as high in fame, as conquest will the person that wrought them.
437. It cannot but prove interesting, I think, to read the account of the closing
376 THE TRACED IE OF [act v. sc. iL
events of this historical Tragedy as given by Dion Cassius (after Plutarch one of our best historians of these days), especially since in several Dramatic Versions the two accounts, Plutarch's and Dion Cassius's, have been interwoven. For Plutarch's account, see, of course, the Appendix. — Dion Cassius (vol. iii, p. 323, trans, by Pro- fessor H. B. Foster, 1906, Troy, N. Y.) : Antony after his unexpected setback took refuge in his fleet and prepared to have a combat on the water, or in any case to sail to Spain. Cleopatra seeing this caused the ships to desert and she herself rushed suddenly into the mausoleum pretending that she feared Caesar and desired by some means to destroy herself before capture, but really as an invitation to Antony to enter there also. He had an inkling that he was being betrayed, but his infatuation would not allow him to believe it, and, as one might say, he pitied her more than himself. Cleopatra was fully aware of this and hoped that if he should be informed that she was dead, he would not prolong his life, but meet death at once. Accordingly, she hastened into the monument with one eunuch and two female attendants and from there sent a message to him to the effect that she had passed away. When he heard it, he did not delay, but was seized with a desire to follow her in death. Then first he asked one of the bystanders to slay him, but the man drew a sword and dispatched himself. Wishing to imitate his courage Antony gave himself a wound and fell upon his face, causing the bystanders to think that he was dead. An outcry was raised at his deed, and Cleopatra hearing it leaned out over the top of the monument By a certain contrivance its doors once closed could not be opened again, but above, near the ceiling, it had not yet been completed. That was where they saw her leaning out and some began to utter shouts that reached the ears of Antony. He, learning that she survived, stood up as if he had still the power to live ; but a great gush of blood from his wound made him despair of rescue and he besought those present to carry him to the monument and to hoist him by the ropes that were hanging there to elevate stone blocks. This was done and he died there on Cleopatra's bosom.
She now began to feel confidence in Caesar and immediately made him aware of what had taken place, but did not feel altogether confident that she would experience no harm. Hence she kept herself within the structure, in order that if there should be no other motive for her preservation, she might at least purchase pardon and her sovereignty through fear about her money. Even then in such depths of calamity she remembered that she was queen, and chose rather to die with the name and dignities of a sovereign than to live as an ordinary person. It should be stated that she kept fire on hand to use upon her money and asps and other reptiles to use upon herself, and that she had tried the latter on human beings to see in what way they killed in each case. Caesar was anxious to make himself master of her treasures, to seize her alive, and to take her back for his triumph. However, as he had given her a kind of pledge, he did not wish to appear to have acted personally aA an impostor, since this would prevent him from treating her as a captive and to a certain extent subdued against her will. He therefore sent to her Gains Proculeius, a knight, and Epaphroditus, a freedman, giving them directions what they must say and do. So they obtained an audience with Qeopatra and after some accusations of a mild type suddenly laid hold of her before any decision was reached. Then they put out of her way ever}'ihing by which she could bring death upon herself and allowed her to spend some days where she was, since the embalming of Antony's body claimed her attention. After that they took her to the palace, but did not remove any of her accustomed retinue or attendants, to the end that she should still more hope to accomplish her wishes and do no harm to herself. When she expressed a desire to
ACT V, sc. ii.] ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA 377
appear before Caesar and converse with him, it was granted ; and to beguile her still more, he promised that he would come to her himself.
She accordingly prepared a luxurious apartment and costly couch, and adorned herself further in a kind of careless fashion, — for her mourning garb mightily became her, — and seated herself upon the couch ; beside her she had placed many images of his father, of all sorts, and in her bosom she had put all the letters that his father had sent her. When, after this, Caesar entered, she hastily arose, blushing, and said : * Hail, master. Heaven has given joy to you and taken it from me. But you see with your own eyes your father in the guise in which he often visited me, and you may hear how he honored me in various ways and made me queen of the Egyptians. That you may learn what were his own words about me, take and read the missives which he sent me with his own hand.*
As she spoke thus, she read aloud many endearing expressions of his. And now she would lament and caress the letters and again fall before his images and do them reverence. She kept turning her eyes toward Csesar, and melodiously continued to bewail her fate. She spoke in melting tones, saying at one time, ' Of what avail Caesar, are these your letters ? ' and at another, < But in the man before me you also are alive for me.' Then again, ' Would that I had died before you 1 ' and still again, ' But if I have him, I have you ! ' Some such diversity both of words and of gestures did she employ, at the same time gazing at and murmuring to him sweetly. Caesar comprehended her outbreak of passion and appeal for sympathy. Yet he did not pre- tend to do so, but letting his eyes rest upon the ground, he said only this^ * Be of cheer, woman, and keep a good heart, for no harm shall befall you.' She was dis- tressed that he would neither look at her nor breathe a word about the kingdom or any sigh of love, and fell at his knees wailing : ' Life for me, Caesar, is neither desir- able nor possible. This favor I beseech of you in memory of your father, — that since Heaven gave me to Antony after him, I may also die with my lord. Would that I had perished on the very instant after Caesar*s death ! But since this present fate was my destiny, send me to Antony : grudge me not burial with him, that as I die because of him, so in Hades also I may dwell with him.'
Such words she uttered expecting to obtain commiseration : Caesar, however, made no answer to it Fearing, however, that she might make away with herself he exhorted her again to be of good cheer, did not remove any of her attendants, and kept a care- ful watch upon her, that she might add brilliance to his triumph. Suspecting this, and regarding it as worse than innumerable deaths, she began to desire really to die and begged Caesar frequently that she might be allowed to perish in some way, and devised many plans by herself. When she could accomplish nothing, she feigned to change her mind and to repose great hope in him, as well as great hope in Livia. She said she would sail voluntarily and made ready many treasured adornments as gifts. In this way she hoped to inspire confidence that she had no designs upon her- self, and so be more free from scrutiny and bring about her destruction. This also took place. The other officials and Epaphroditus, to whom she had been committed, believed that her state of mind was really as it seemed, and neglected to keep a care- fiil watch. She, meanwhile, was making preparations to die as painlessly as possi- ble. First she gave a sealed paper, in which she begged Caesar to order that she be buried beside Antony, to Epaphroditus himself to deliver, pretending that it con- tained some other matter. Having by this excuse freed herself of his presence, she set to her task. She put on her most beauteous apparel and after choosing a most becoming pose, assumed all the royal robes and appurtenances, and so died. No one
378 THE TRACED IE OF [act v, sc. ii.
knows clearly in what manner she perished, for there were found merely slight indentations on her arm. Some say^that she applied an asp which had been brought in to her in a water-jar or among some flowers. Others declare that she had smeared a needle, with which she was wont to braid her hair, with some poison possessed of such properties that it would not injure the surface of the body at all, but if it touched the least drop of blood it caused death very quickly and painlessly. The supposition is, then, that previously it had been her custom to wear it in her hair, and on this occasion after first making a small scratch on her arm with some instrument, she dipped the needle in the blood. In this or some very similar way she perished with her two handmaidens. The eunuch, at the moment her body was taken up, pre- sented himself voluntarily to the serpents, and after being bitten by them leaped into a coffin which had been prepared by him. Caesar on hearing of her demise was shocked, and both viewed her body and applied drugs to it and sent for Psylli,* in the hope that she might possibly revive. These Psylli, who are male, for there is no woman bom in their tribe, have the power of sucking out before a person dies all the poison of every reptile and are not harmed themselves when bitten by any such crea- ture. They are propagated from one another and they test their offspring, the latter being thrown among serpents at once or having serpents laid upon their swaddling- clothes. In such cases the poisonous creatures do not harm the child and are benumbed by its clothing. This is the nature of their function. But Caesar, when he could not in any way resuscitate Qeopatra, felt admiration and pity for her and was himself excessively grieved, as much as if he had been deprived of all the glory of the victory.
* Compare Pliny, Natural History ^ zxi, 78. [Book VII, chap, ii, p. 154, Holland's Trans, ed, 1635.]
APPENDIX
t
APPENDIX
DATE OF COMPOSITION
Steevens is, I believe, the earliest among editors to attempt to fix the Date of publication of this play. In the Variorum of 1785 (p. 131) he calls attention to the following entry in the Stationer^ Registers :
xix'' Utr i^rtiilirifl. [i593]
Symond water- Entred for his Copie vnder th andes of bothe the wardens a booke
son. intituled The Tragedye of Qeopatra . . . . vjd*
This Symon Waterson, Steevens goes on to say, was the printer of some of Daniel's works; the foregoing entry probably refers, therefore, *to Daniel* s Cieopatra, oi which there are several editions.' Steevens found a second entry, of which he remarks that < it is the first notice I have met with concerning any edition of this play, more ancient than the folio of 1623.' It is as follows:
20 tmin [1608]
Edward Blount. Entred for his copie vnder th andes of Sir George Buck knight
and Master Warden Seton A booke called. The booke of Pericles prynce of Tyre yjd
Edward Blunt. Entred also for his copie by the lyke Aucthoritie. A booke
Called. Anthony, and Qeopatra YJ^ t
Malone, in his edition of 1790, says, in his notice oi Julius Qtsar (vol. i, p. 369), that ' we have certain proof that Antony and Cleopatra was composed before the mid- dle of the year 1608.' This certain proof is the entry in the Stationers Registers of that year, but Malone gives a slightly wrong impression in saying that the 20th of May is ' before the middle of the year ' ; the year then began in March and the middle of the year fell in September. As a further corroboration of this date, 1608, he observes (p. 372) that *in Ben Jonson's Silent IVoman, IV, iv [IV, ii, ed. Gifford], 1609, this play seems to be alluded to : *' Morose. Nay, I would sit out a play, that were nothing hai Jigkls at sea, drum, trumpet, and target." ' If the reference be here to Antony b* Cleopatray the play which is * nothing Imt fights at sea * dwindles to a single stage- direction * Alarum as at a sea fight.' — IV, xii, I. The flimsiness of the pretence of adducing this quotation from Jonson as an indication of the date of Anthony &* Cleo- patra is thus exposed by Gifford : • Long before 77ie Silent JVoman was written, nay, before Shakespeare was known to the stage, the theatres were in possession of many rude pieces founded on the remarkable events of our history, of which battles, etc., always formed a prominent feature. The miserable attempts to represent these favourite scenes, were often made a subject of mirth by succeeding writers.* Never-
* Aiber's Transcript, II, 638. f Arber's Transcript, III, 378.
38X
382
APPENDIX
theless, George Chalmers, the next critic who deals with the Chrooologj of the Plmys, lepeats Malone's quotation from Ttu Silent W&mutm without dissent ; he also accepts the proof to be drawn from the entry in the Statiomer^ Registers as coochisiTe^ and observes that if this tragedy were written as a sequel to JmUms Cesar, * it maj, perhaps, have been written in the beginnii^ of the year 160S.' He also opines (Si^pUmental Apolo^, 17999 P> 4S2) ^hat * like other preceding dramas, this tragcdj had been suggested to the observant mind of Shakespeare, by prior intimations^ . . . The arguBoent of Daniel's Cltopaira may have furnished the more dramatic genius of Shakespeare with several hints, which he well knew how to work into a better farm. He had seen in T^e Dfzils Im^amate, in 1596, which he had attentively read, what Lodge had remarked, how "Anthony, dallyii^ in ddligfats with Cleopatra, gave Cesar opportunitie of many victories.'* '
Knight is the next editor to discuss the Date. In the Intrvdwutiom to Cerioiamms (p. 148) he remarks : * In 1623 Blount and Jaggard, the publishers of the Iblio, ester ** Mr. William Shakspere's Comedies, Histories, and Tragedies, so many of the sud copies as are cot formerly entered to other men.'* Amongst diese is Anijmy amd Cleofatra, All the plays thus entered in 1 623 were unpublxshed; and noC one of them, with the exception of Anitmy and Cleopatra^ had been ** formerly entered ^ by name. It ts therefore more than probable that the ^«/itf»Ta»i/CZn;^)a/>'tfexiter^ 1608 was not Shakspere's tragedy ; and we therefore reject this entry as any evidence dkat Siak- spere's Antamy ami CUtrpatra was written as early as 1608. Upon the date of Aii play depends* according to Malooe, the date of JuHms C*aar. We state, unhesitat- ingly, that there is no iniemal evidence whatever for the dates of any of the three Roman plays. We believe that they belong to the same cycle; but we would piiaoe that later in Shakspere's life than is ordinarily doce. Malone places them together, properly enough ; but in assuming that they were written in 1607, 160S, and 1610^ his theory makes Shdcspere almost absolutely unemployed for &e last seven yeas of his Ii£e. We hold that his last irears were devoted to these plays.* — [Knighfs asscrtton that *' xU the pUys* entered in the Fust Fo£o list * were unpublished,* is, possibly^ a little rash, and yet it is diiScnlt to disprove it. He is ca firaaer ground when he says that it is ''more than probable' that die Anthamy ami devpatra of i^ is not Shakespeare's tragedy, — ground which, I rf*"»^, has been ^*«m;w^»^ \^ e£iars and cridcs with hardly sufficient care. It raises another mysteif ; the ever-recuiriag mysteries connected with the Quartos has a tendency to become moootciaous. The Edward Bluunt who entered the copy of Antktmy ixmi CItopatra. m 1608 ss the sane Edward Hlount who with William Joggard entered die copy of the First Folio oa the eighth of November, 1625, and the terms of the latter entry expressiy esdade <- see manie ' of the *- Come>iyes, Histories^ and Tragedy es ' ** as are not kxxatAf eotred tu other men.' In the list which follows there stands our present Anlimk ami CUopaira, Why, it may be asked« should Edward Blount mHi^fl^ this play ii 1023, seeing that he had .ilready received the license to print it in i6g8 ? To he sure, it hod not bet^n encered to an *■ other man.' but it hod been entered to fc™»<rft^ and, if, in lQOi$, u zvus ^'Aaaesprare i piar. why should be desire to talbe out a dodale license ? Why shonid it be mentioned at aH, seeing dtat^ if t^ r6a6 emirr was dk present piay it was already bis property? The list, as it stands in the :Satime^ Jfe^fs/ers^ of unlicensed plavs by :5hakespeare which Blount and Tagj^i*'^ licensed to print in 1623 is as follows: *
♦-Vrbers Transcript^ iv, 107.
DATE OF COMPOSITION
383
COMEDYES '
Histories
The Tempest
The Two gentlemen of Verona
Measure for Measure
The Comedy of Errors
As you like it
Airs well that ends well
Twelfe night
The winters tale
{The thirde parte of Henry ye Sdct Henry the Eight
r CORIOLANUS
TiMON of Athens
Julius Caesar
Mackbeth
Anthonie and Cleopatra
Cymbeline
As Knight says, * not one of these, with the exception of Anihonie and Cleopatra^ had been *< formerly entred '* by name.' And, to repeat what I have just said, if the 1608 Anthony and Cleopatra were Shakespeare's, and already the property of Edward Blount, it is not clear why it should have been entered again. When, therefore. Knight rejects the date of 1608 as a proof that Shakespeare wrote the present play in that year, even-handed justice must acknowledge that there is colour for his rejection, and, furthermore, all who, confiding on this date, erect their scheme of the chro- nology of these plays, do so on a foundation which, in respect to the present play, is not flawless.
Tragedies
G. C. Verplanck gives a late date to the three plays Coriolanus^ Julius Casar, and the present play, because Shakespeare, in these tragedies, preserves throughout ' an artist-like keeping, which, combined with their dramatic skill, the constant pro- pensity of the author to moral or political argument or reasoning, and the more habitual and mature tone of his philosophy, as well as with the evidence of diction and versi6cation, gives strong attestation that they belong to that later epoch of Shakespeare's authorship, when (to use Coleridge's discriminating criticism) <'the energies of intellect in the cycle of genius become predominant over passion and creative self-manifestation." This period I should place as beginning after the pro- duction of Z^rar and Macbeth^ in 1608 or 1609, or about the Poet's forty-fifth year. Besides those reasons for ascribing the Roman dramas to this date, which appeal only to the reader's taste and feeling, the following considerations seem also of some weight. Coriolanus and its Plutarchian companions appeared first in print in the posthumous folio of 1623, and they were then entered in the Stationers' Register as among the plays in that volume " not formerly entered to other men." This was the case with all Shakespeare's later works, either produced or remodelled after Lear ; for it appears that after Othello^ Hamlet^ and Lear had placed him far above his con- temporaries, his plays became of too much value to the theatrical company which held the copies to be suffered to go into the market as mere literary property. Again : there is no period of Shakespeare's life, except the last seven or eight years, where we can well find room for the production of these dramas. We well know from
384
APPENDIX
▼arious sources what were the luxuriant products of his youthful genius until 159^* During the succeeding ten years we find him with his full share of interest and occupation in the management and pecuniary concerns of his theatre, yet employed in the enlargement of his HamUt * to as much again as it was/ the imponoTement and revision of some of his comedies, and the composition of As You Like It^ Muck Adt Ahomt Nothings Twelfth Nighty very probably of sereral of his English historical plays, and of T^mon^ and certainly of Othello^ Measure for Measure^ TroUus and Cressida^ Lear^ and Macbeth, It can scarcely be thought that he had then leisure to add the Roman tragedies to all these. On the other hand, if there had been no trace of any additional authorship after 1609, we might infer that he had been inca- pacitated by disease, or drawn away by some other cause firom composition ; bat as we know that after that date he revised or greatly enlarged some dramas, and wrote two or three new ones, we hare fur more reason to presume that some portion of his leisure, after he had returned to his xiative village, during which be wrote die Tern- ftst^ was also employed in the composition of these tragedies, filed like that, his last poetic comedy, with grave and deep reflections, wide moral speculatioo, and the sobered energy of mature but calm power, than to believe that they were poured fofth in the same rapid torrent of invention and passionate thought which, daring the ten preceding years of the Poefs life, had enriched English literatme with Bore of original dramatic character, and poetic sentiment and ezpiessioQ, than it owes to the life of any other author.
Crakus Bathvkst (p. 150) : Entered 00 the Stationers' books. May 2, 1608L This is a valuable date, foe the verse is still more diecked and cut 19 (as in ks fo«rth style) than in CorwlaMmx^ Put ^ my kelwut to My commftymmu, m Jtmmm, Remarkably so« in the change of person in dialogue; bat it is far firom having the same load of ideas, nor stiffness^ The mind of the reader woold fiow oa moie fredy, than in Corioiamus^ If the ear were allowed to do sol It is a Ev move iiieguin; varied* play, — more, perhapsv than any he has written. There is, however, still of the crampoess of a lesson oat of a book, in die political parts.. Widt this ness goes correctness of taste. There are not the (knits of cardessDess or of unchecked want of taste, whidi are coamion in the earlier plays^ Mere umLriti, pans, indelicacy, we do not see madi oL There are many doable encfings in thb pUy.
G. G. GwtviNUS (it» 3x2, 1872. 4Ce Anfiage) : It may wdl be that by the 'hookc,* entcffed by Bioane, the present play is meant, and that its date of cooBpasitiaa may be set down as in i^oj-S^ Indications of a common treatment of material, oertna pecuhanties of style, poesibly even more than these, die pocf s firame of mnd at tkr timeb place this play near to 7>o. ^ Cress^ which may also tend to <■■»»*?■■* das 1
The late date of the present play is cmfobotAled by die Metrical Testa. Fiob the care6d[ Table, prepared by Prof. l!<(C&AX ( Xew Sk, Sec. Tr^ms. 1874, p. 450), of Shakespeare's use of light and weak endings^ Frocl Ingram deduLes the fciQowiiC
* I. Daring die first three-ftnoths (or dsereaboots) of Shakspere*s podk life, W used th* light endings [sach as om, ttre, art, ie^ ortm, cam, etc] very spazia^y, mi tha weak endings [such as ami\. ar^ at^ by. Jtrr^frmm. etc] scarcdy at alL
' X. Ttke last fourth ^or thereaboots) is obvionsly ami umaBtakeahlj
DATE OF COMPOSITION 385
from the earlier stages by the very great increase of the number of light endings, and, still more, by the first appearance in any appreciable number, and afterwards the steady growth, of the weak endings.
' 3. Hence, in any discrimination of |>eriods which is founded on metrical con- siderations, this last may be called the << weak-ending Period. '^ ...
' 7. The weak endings do not come in by slow degrees, but the poet seems to have thrown himself at once into this new structure of verse ; 28 examples occurring in Ant. and CUop.y whilst there are not more than two in any earlier play.'
Accordingly, in Prof. Ingram's Table, Ant. 6r* Cleop, is the twenty-sixth in order, and is followed only by * Coriolanus^ PericUs (Shakspere's part). Tempest^ Cymbeline^ Hunter's Tale, Henry r///(Shakspere's part).'
J. O. Halliwkll-Phillipps {Outlines, 5th ed. p. 187): About the time that Pericles was so well received at the Globe, the tragedy of Antony and Cleopatra was in course of performance at the same theatre, but, although successful, it did not equal the former in popularity. It was, however, sufficiently attractive for Blount to secure the consent of the Master of the Revels to its publication and also for the company to frustrate his immediate design. — [In his Illustrative Notes, Halliwell attempts to substantiate the foregoing positive assertions by adducing two inferences. On the words ' although successful ' there is the following note (p. 524) : < This * fact may be inferred from the entry in the Stationers' Registers of 1608, to Edward 'Blount of *<his copie by the lyke aucthoritie, a booke called Anthony and Cleo- * " patra." The " like authority " refers to the sanction of Sir George Buck and the ' company, as appears from the previous entry in the register, so that Blount was no ' doubt in possession of the copyright of the authentic play. If he printed it in 1608, ' no copy of the impression is now known to exist, the earliest edition which has been 'preserved being that in the collective work of 1623, of which Blount was one of 'the publishers; and although it is included in the list of tragedies "as are not ' "formerly entred to other men" in the notice of the copyright of the folio, it is ' still not impossible that an earlier separate edition was issued by him. There are 'indications that the list of non-entered plays was carelessly drawn up.' It is impossible to deny Halliwell' s assertion that there are indications that this list is carelessly drawn up; but he does not state what the indications are; this at least is certain that it is so far careful that with but two exceptions, not a single play is given in it which has been before even referred to in the Stationers' Registers ; in regard to the other plays which it specifies the list is strictly accurate. The two exceptions are As You Like It, which is not entered, but mentioned only ' to be staled ' and the pres- ent play of Anthony and Cleopatra, if the entry of 20th of May, 1 608 really refers to it. When, then, we find this list so accurate in regard to all the other plays, I do not believe we are justified in asserting that it is inaccurate in this one solitary instance, unless we are positively certain that the entry of 20th of May, 1608 refers to Shake- speare's Anthony and Cleopatra. Knight and Verplanck believe that it does not And it is impossible to contradict them. There is no proof whatever that it is Shake- speare*s play. We do not even know that it was a play at all, — it may have been a prose history. There is nothing here but inferences, as is, unfortunately, so much of what Halliwell asserts in his Outlines. For instance, in the note (p. 525) on his state- ment that Anthony and Cleopatra did not equal Pericles in popularity : ' this,' he remarks, ' may be gathered from the rarity of contemporary allusions to it. The only ' extrinsic notice of the tragedy during the author's life-time ap|>ears to be a curious one
35
386
APPENDIX
* in Antonys Philosophers Satyrs, l6i6, where the latter poet blames ladies far encour-
* aging the performance of so vicious a drama by their presence/ Here, in this note, there are two inferences which are supposed to substantiate the truth of an asseiticm. In its first line, the inference is open and confessed where it is said that if may he gathered. The second inference lies in assuming that Amon, when he speaks of •Orestes incest, Cleopatrcs crimes' refers to Shakespeare's plaj of Anthony and Cltopatra. That he does so, is purely a surmise on HaIIiwriI*s part. If surmises be once allowed, why may we not surmise that the unknown date of Beanmont and Fletcher's Tht False Om, wherein Qeopatra is the heroine, be before i6i6 ? Weber places it before loiS. Only a linle stretching will bring it into i6i6, and then to it, and not to Shakespeare, Antonys reference may ap^y. Moreorcr, Shakespeare died in i6i6. Can a work, which, like Anton's Saiyi^ is dated 1616, be stated withoat qualification to contain a *■ notice of the tragedy during the poet's lxfietin>e ' ?
REC.\Pm'LATION :
1790 Malone 160S
1793 Steevzns 160S
Geo. Chalmers 1608
Knight .... •during last seren years of Shakespeare's life.* CoLUKU * written late in 1607, and acted ' in 1608
1799 1S41
1S43 1S47 iS57 1^57 1S60
1S66 1572
1S74
1S74
«575 i:$7<>
iSSi
tS95 1901
1904
n. d.
Verpl.\n^tc
Staunton Bathuilst R. G. White
Halliwell
• after 160S or 1609, or about Shakespeare's larty-6^ year.*
written at end of 1607
? 1608
aboat 1608
1607 or 1606
Dyce (ed. ii) a short time before 1608
GERViNfs i6g7-i6o8
Delii's ted. iit> . in a comparatxirely late year in the Bsct's life.
J. K. Ingram twenty-sixth in order, and followed only by C^^riijiaMmXy Firi- cUs ^ Shakspere's part), Tcmprsi^ CymdeHmt^ iVbtUr: 7j^, Hemry Vlll K Shaksperv's part"^.
F. J. FURMY ALL ? 160^7
A. W. W.\jiD
F. G. FLeay
H. X. Hudson .
Charles Wori?sworth
K. Peight».\n
C. H. Hbrfi.^rd
W. J. R..>LFE
The Cowoen-Cl^irjles
before 1008 dated nnamntnusly earbr in 1608 '
earlT in 1608
m itJOT or
. probably written in 1606-1607
1607 or 1608
?r6o8
in 1607. or very eariy in 1608
close of 1607. or begimimg of 1608
DURATION' OF ACTION
It is hardly likely that Shakespeare, in his KistDiical Dramas^ psid m«»-fc to dbe passage <jf tine, either historrcai 'Jt dntmatic. It was eiiou^h f***** or the ^BJ^ of ten years a genefai sevjucnce of er««s was preserved. In dxese crcomsttBA where there ine^ntabiy exists mtidj shuffing of times, it is a task of extiemc (fificrilf u> nmrnvel the tangied ^kein and to decenmne the diiriaan inm days of
SOURCE OF THE PLOT 387
This knot, which seems almost too intrinse to nnloose, Mr P. A. Daniel has untied in a quite triumphant manner, as follows (His scheme had better be accepted; it is not likely that, in the future, anyone with adequate skill and patience will be found who can modify it ) :
' Time of the Play, twelve days represented on the stage ; with intervals.
Day I. — Act I, sc. i-iv.
Interval — 40 days ?
•* 2. — Act I, sc. V ; Act II, sc. i-iii.
" 3. — Act II, sc. iv. iMttrval.
** 4. — Act II, sc. v-vii. [Act III, sc. iii.] Ifi/rrva/^
•* 5. — Act III, sc. i and ii.
[Act III, sc. iii. See Day 4.] /n/erva/.
" 6. — Act III, sc. iv and v. /n/erva/,
« 7.— Act III, sc. vi. /n/erva/.
« 8.— Act III, sc. vii.
" 9. — Act III, sc. viii-x. /n/erva/.
** la — Act III, sc. xi-xiii ; Act IV, sc. i-iii.
" II. — Act IV, sc. iv-ix.
" 12. — Act IV, sc. x-xv ; Act V, sc. i and ii.
Historic time, about ten years : B.C. 40 to B.c. 30.* — Niew Skakspere Soc. Tram. 1877-9, P- 239.
SOURCE OF THE PLOT
After the painful student has waded through the preceding pages of this volume, it seems impertinently superfluous to state that Shakespeare drew the Source of his Plot from North's Trans/ation of P/u/arc/t. The continual references in the Commentary to this portion of the Appendix are wearisome in their iteration. Yet, surely, that miiMl must be inert, indeed, that finds no pleasure in observing the magic whereby Shakespeare, gilding the pale stream with heavenly alchemy, transfigures the quiet prose, at times almost word for word, into exalted poetry. In the following pages only those passages are reprinted from the Life of An/onius which, in the Editor's judgement, have any relation to the present play. In the original there are marginal notes, in Italics, setting forth the substance of the adjoining text; in order to save spftce these have been omitted, and their places supplied by references, in broad- fiiced tjrpe, to Acts, Scenes, and Lines in the play.
The following Transcrip/ is taken from the Photo/it/iograph of Four Chapters of Nor//es Plutarch^ of the edition of 1595, published in 1878, by Dr F. A. Leo, of Berlin.
388
APPENDIX
PLUTARCH
TlIK l.IVKS I OF THK NOBLE ORE- | CIANS AND ROMAKES, COMPARED | TOGETHEt HY THAT GRAVK LHARSED | PHILOSOPHER AND HISTORIOGRAPHER, | Plutorke cf
Ck^r^mrm : \ TranlUtcd out of Grreke into French by Iames Axiot, Abbot of HclUv I zane, Bitbop of Auxerre, one of the Kings pnuie connfell, m&d great | Amner of KnincY, and out of French into Englilb, bv | T^iymas \i*rth. [\lgnette] Imprinted at I A>mk^n by RiohAnl Field for I Bonham Norton. | 1595.
llieTteuix^n he left Itaiy, & vent into Grel'E, ^ there bestowed the most part of his time, sometime in varress and c>iherwhile in the stadie of I ••« ^ el«>quence. He rsed a manner of phrase in his speech, called Asiai
ike, which caried the best grace and eAimation at that time, and was * ^ S ' much like lo h;5 manners and life : for it was fell of ostematioQ, fool- ish braoerie, and raine ambition. . . . But besides a!l lhi5< he had a Dc^btie prM.ence« and skewed a conntenance of 00s (>f a m'^le hovsse : he had a ^»i]y thick e beard, a broad forehead, crooke nosed, and there appearvsl snch a man> lonke ia his cdziniczkaxice, as is ocimfnanly seene ia .Vr^,iw*>.' picmrMk sJair.ped ca graoen in TnettrJL Now it had bene a speech of old
time, tha: the tam:1ieos :be AnrrmT'wtst discesde^d fr..«a ooe Am*tm^
the Sonne of J-Jr- .-u.'.w whcre:jf the fsm.ly tooke name. This opisioo
4, 111, 05. ^j- .-?i»,-/irMf serke i: cotnrmf ic tH bis doings: ax ^ncSy resen-
b:ing bin: in :he likcnesst .if his 'oijt. as we ba^e saiie before, b'J
aJs*^ in the wrannj: <*"' ^'^ garmenii. } or whet be w:in}i ocie&}y s^cwe b3aseltt
•bnitiid betVure mar.« ^ip'ic. he w.ic't^ a.'.waies wrs.:* b:s ca&s:tcke gvn dswx« lo«
vjvvkTi h» bipiie<w wi:h a grmi >woErc nan^n;; bv his side, and rpon that, some ill
tan. ui red ci.ikr.. FnnhrmnTit. ihin^ rha: secme imoliexable is odxr men. a^ \c- S.«s: c^immon^ . u ik:s with one re ocVier. 10 drinkelikF • ^^^ ^ a (••"vv": f;'i)rw wiih curr«- b.-*cii;, \z> si: vith the s:*ujdjen when tier
dine, ann w eai* antl drmke wi:b iben. soaudier: i!ke : h is i wh-^t «*of>dertur. )oiu 1: wtmnc- bin: amiiTigs: :t«m.. And fxxnbcrmore, b tr \rMu . rha: ma.ie bm. the more desired, anc :n iha: mesiiB be brongm masvt* four bim For hr w.-ujU. lurthe: etier« mans inue, an:i al!«r wonJd nzn be angry ^ nv^r. >>honUi mpriS r«*r hiir. o'' tboM he trmrf.. }tu: besids> aH ihix. ikc wiudiaoc fvoc^r^d brs n^inj: am', adiiancfnv-n;. wa^ ht- lihrraiittt. wbr gant all L.-^ tbe todiiers. anr, kcT»: notbinf; to bim^rltr . ani". vhrr. hr was grnwet tr- grca: crrdiit, theaw br«. nuThorihr nm: nowo: a.'v vo-^ grr-a^ tb: whtcL n.irwithsta&dmg hnueib'e ^ CMienb^om'e. \^ ^ ihxi^Anr. tMher tBuIv> he hao
TK*r. wttv ■infimni «trajL;:h: maTuehnix&!« rammcncbc mat ba:«d
o; >hr vtuUiicTN. hecaDsr hi nnnmrai!^ exeauaed >«im«^iK» wa:^ \ hi aa
theni unc WtMHi. ofrcmimr> ratr anci dniMiie witr. ibem. and ai^ i*
liYviul mir. tbeiTi. xrrnrtiin;: ir hh- aniiiltf
*» fterwrarfiiK wTier /'«^:«t— . hnu« wa* nu: if onex: scjc.4i
SnQ(*h; i hn: wher tfien a«ke£: hin mnn^ t.T lu be made c «BV <fn»n£rr «>,- wt^ nftendei witt. Ih-ir. .
I. ii. ijl* Ar»i !h^»^T->Tr he tj»f hr- d^«solat! maxm;r ■»:' lilt, and
II. ii "v^ .^-Nir*- th« wfi^ iVo.rMi widd^« s. w-.mar. nn: an tawciT auadtf t^
5r«^Tw: he tim. tr. xmnmnj: ^^' h'^so^i'iufra. one was luc iuiiiOBtfid Ir ma.o^: H^T biT«h«ivi a' Kin\L K«i: w^rhui. ah>r ruit hm: ic tis a&at ataraads.iid
SOURCE OF THE PLOT 387
This knot, which seems almost too intrinse to miloose, Mr P. A. Daniel has untied in a quite triumphant manner, as follows (His scheme had better be accepted ; it is not likely that, in the future, anyone with adequate skill and patience will be found who can modify it ) :
' Time of the Play, twelve days represented on the stage ; with intervals.
Day I. — Act I, sc. i-iv.
Interval — 40 days ?
" 2. — Act I, sc. V ; Act II, sc. i-iii.
** 3. — Act II, sc. iv. Interval.
** 4. — Act II, sc. v-vii. [Act III, sc. iii.] Interval?
" 5. — Act III, sc. i and ii.
[Act III, sc. iii. See Day 4.] Interval,
** 6. — Act III, sc. iv and v. Interval.
" 7.— Act III, sc. vi. Interval.
« 8.— Act III, sc. vii.
" 9. — Act III, sc. viii-x. Interval,
" 10. — Act III, sc. xi-xiit ; Act IV, sc. i-iii.
** II. — Act IV, sc. iv-ix.
" 12. — Act IV, sc. x-xv ; Act V, sc. i and ii.
Historic time, about ten years : B.c. 40 to B.C. 30.' — New Shakspere Soc. Trans, 1877-9, p. 239.
SOURCE OF THE PLOT
After the painful student has waded through the preceding pages of this volume, it seems impertinently superfluous to state that Shakespeare drew the Source of his Plot from North's Translation of Plutarch, The continual references in the Commentary to this portion of the Appendix are wearisome in their iteration. Yet, surely, that mind must be inert, indeed, that finds no pleasure in observing the magic whereby Shakespeare, gilding the pale stream with heavenly alchemy, transfigures the quiet prose, at times almost word for word, into exalted poetry. In the following pages only those passages are reprinted from the Life of Antonius which, in the Editor's judgement, have any relation to the present play. In the original there are marginal notes, in Italics, setting forth the substance of the adjoining text ; in order to save space these have been omitted, and their places supplied by references, in broad- faced t3rpe, to Acts, Scenes, and Lines in the play.
The following Transcript is taken from the Photolithograph of Four Chapters of North's Plutarch^ of the edition of 1595, published in 1878, by Dr F. A. Leo, of Berlin.
3^ APPENDIX
giuen, because of m dreame one of his frieods bad. AtUomtMS oo the other side ooer- threw i\jssim in baltelU though some write that he was not there himselfe at the btt- tel, but that he came after the ouerthrow, whitest his men had the enemies in dose. So OustMS at his earnest request was slair.e br a faithful] scroant of his own called PimJants, whom he had intranchised : because he knew not in time that Bmtm
had ouercome Cwsjr. Shortij af:er they fooght an other battdl
a^ne, in the which Bruius was cceithrowen, who afterwaides also
III, XI, 41. ^^.^^ himself. Thus An:rmus had the chiefest glory of all this vie-
toiy, specially because C^sjr was sicke at that tisne. ... .Am-^-miMS beirg thus inclined, the List ani extrrantest mischiefe of all other (lo wit« the Kx2e of u>.r\;/^^> lighted on h-.m, «bo did wikea and sdrre Tp many rices yet hi^ivi^rn ir. him, aad were cecer seeae to ary : a= i if any sparke of goodnease cr lK>pe of rising wrre ler'l hini, c7.'.'^r.— j cuer.ched i: straight, and made it wvne thei befvTT. TSe Cramer bow he feU in kne with her was this. Am^-nxMS gotng to nuke warnf w.;h ibe Pxktk'.axs;, sect to o>£aaad O.-f^sfr-s to arpeare ixrsoBially befere bim. when be ca=«e :zto Cil^vi c io> a=25W£Te Trto s^di accnsataoos as wee laide apii%4 be?, be^r§ this : ilia: scie bid aiiec ..'-rra.- asd B^^cms in tbeir wmxre agaxnft bim. The tD«s«r^?er sseri t=:.> 0.y*zr^£ ir nake Lis fyr.TTK^ss vato her, was called /V'VjK.- • wb.^ wbea be bad tiwrccg^y cccsoertd ber besrtae, tie exce3eat gnce a^ii swr^rtstcsKS* oe b« icc^rae, be sjcciis^ =iacrBiC£d liii Anr^^mtMr wcujd doe aw b«K ?*■* so Tv>V> a l.ad.-e. be: raier assicrri risai^Ji, :ia! ws±ia few oayes she dioald W » pr^Jit i&acr w<^:b bhr.. Tijegy^yCC b: of ber ^rrai boooer, aad perswaded be?^ V> c-crif hic^ OriJ.t \. as knxictcrxSy frr:is«*i as f^ cn=Iid poss^b-ic, aai bad ker tfcX ?c» be a'^rrtof a: aZ .-£ .< w7/»irjt-, fjc bf wi* a inrcr acinneoBS Lord, tbea ary tk< jdje bai c«^ «<T«e- c'H'/vwir-x cc li* ccber S'ie 'rg-!rgyr"t>r ^^fJrwr wcrdsi* & sesBif N- tSe iVntwr jtv^Hsae rr»£ crpr.^ sibe bai wni .\ieJac- t>ac. xad Ckfm; /Vm?rr lie ^inTie **v' 7^'/m:»ir: tbf frsa: ci»7 f .-c b-r rieauDe : sake ^«p= to bane grod bjye ifat 5She Vk^:^ m-tre e^asT:*- w.t ,< &';«=*£•. F:c ^^cxr- anr Pn^ey kaew ber wbea sie
wx,5 boc a v-'vni^ '^^inir . i: ksrw 71X ~b-r wba: tbe w^cci ie racst : lid it:w «ibe w*r7C 7: .•* R:;7ear jc the aj^e w^ies a wcibb=» beucie is M
1 T JiSs
•bf rr-mi*.. i.n£ siSt tl*r re lies: jndjemeHL ^c si* ^"n ■'■A**' hff-
«»ltf wilt t ^'ZTiz rc ^.fa». «r;rs of j»ni£ aziZ ssjacr, aai cc xidiesaad
Vupwv. *t>£ T'.^TT *.- 'm*ru^ztns «i£ rci s, rssiimt ts .^^-i J", wni. ii«c ret s^ aoei •w^hifif wiiV hir wh:«n»ir sbf "r-uSM»r mrr? ibn it bsr sr5i. aai it ^tfiLiiimgd m^baonrrMnc ^- br- nfef^sini^ rvsnitt ap£ ^r»aL Tbsrsi.-P* wojcr 5±ie was setf ndB V^ 4iui7Ts VltrTs. S.-i:r n-ror. .^'ufmnt timsxtii^ tint xilat I'>iu. bs i-i^^Am^ sbe 9tit
XX, iu Vti$> inrm^ri. rcitr-^'s^t, tm. v n^ btr bn:^ jx. ibe ansr af CyaaBL^ • *. h. M^ Tvvinr wiv«r!v« w» n: ^mu. rttt au*e> nf iwc^ue. fin£ the cwtff ^
A- Oi>»>k. K-^'Sn*»v>v. ^vrhtr-ii!.,. r-n.-Jb^. ant sitri n:iisr mc>.umm& as ibey pk^ed
ir i>v Jmrc*" ^»w ^^^ **t thr TC'srw n" hr* ^««ltr sbs wa* luoe Tnoer a
a: >ImV a j»Aiar A- i>^iv.. iimam*1u*t. am. tsxinri. iicr ais ^.-taoesEe rin
^i»r*"W 1» nii»ni*r Biu Uu^i. y« h:n, m rtOtsr tm.i%L a." bSL. iueaig bur bc^>a iff*"
'wli><. «s«^ 4%iim;«tv ^w ;<«,'•: iawii |iAt: ^''^t^ui.. wntt. titit bik tx. ^•"« jnaids.wift^
a: ilhi*n ^^k mmKA\^ iitt thr 7?«mnte^ .V«^-nwf wiii:± «t -ft* m^'jiaudes rf^ ^vMiiffs tihc lilit 4Hr 4'>««Lr^». «mM jwium Hit
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ropes of the barge, out of the which there came a wonderful! passing sweete sauor of perfumes, that perfumed the wharfes side, pestered with innumerable multitudes of people. Some of them followed the barge all alongst the riuers side : others also ranne out of the citie to see her comming in. So that in the end, there ranne such multitudes of people one after an other to see her, that Antonitis was left post alone in the market place, in his Imperiall seate to giue audience: and there went a rumor in the peoples muuthes, that the goddesse Venus was come to play with the god Bac- chus^ for the generall good of all Asia. "When Cleopatra landed, Antonius sent to inuite her to supper to him. But she sent him worde againe, he should doe better rather to come and suppe with her. Antonius therefore to shew himselfe curteous vnto her at her arriuall, was contented to obey her, and went to supper to her : where he found such passing sumptuous fare, that no tongue can expresse it. But amongst all other things, he most wondered at the infinite number of lightes and torches hanged on the toppe of the bouse, giuing light in euery place, so artificially set and ordered by deuises, some round, some square : that it was the rarest thing to behold that eye could discerne, or that euer bookes could mention. The next night, Antonius feasting her, contended to passe her in magnificence and finenes : but she ouercame him in both. So that he himselfe began to scorne the grosse seruice of his house, in respect of Cleopatraes sumptuousnes and finenesse. And when Cleopatra found Antonius ieasts and flents to be but grosse, and souldier like, in plaine manner : she gaue it him finely, and without feare taunted him throughly. Now her beautie (as it is reported) was not so passing, as vnmatchable of other women, nor yet such, as vpon present viewe did enamor men with her : but so sweete was her companie and conuersation, that a man could not possiblie but be taken. And besides her beautie, the good grace she had to talke and discourse, her curteous nature that tempered her words & deedes, was a spurre that pricked to the quick. Furthermore, besides all these, her voice and words were maruellous pleasant : for her tongue was an instru- ment of musicke to diuers sportes and pastimes, the which she easily turned to any language that pleased her. She spake vnto few barbarous people by interpreter, but made them answere her selfe, or at the least the most part of them : as the ^Ethiop- lANS, the Arabians, the Troglodytes, the Hebrves, the Syrians, the Medes, and the Parthians, and to many others also, whose languages she had learned. Whereas diuers of her progenitors, the kings of Mgyvt, could scarce leame the -/Egyptian tongue only & many of them forgot to speake the Macedonian. Now, Antonius was so rauished with the loue of Cleopatra, that though his wife Fuluia had great warres, and much a doe with Casar for his affaires, and that the armie of the Parthians (the which the kings Lieutenantes had giuen to the only leading of Lahienus) was now assembled in Mesopotamia readie to inuade Syria : yet, as though all this had nothing touched him, he yeelded himselfe to goe with Cleopatra into Alexandria, where he spent and lost in childish sports (as a man might say) and idle pastimes, the most pretious thing a man can spend, as Antiphon saith : and that is, time. For they made an order betwene them, which they called Amimetobion (as much to say, no life comparable and matchable with it) one feasting each other by tumes, and in cost, exceeding all measure and reason. And for proofe hereof, I haue heard my grandfather Lampryas report, that one Philotas a Phisitian, borne in the city of Amphissa, told him that he was at that present time in Alexandria, and studied Phisicke : and that hauing acquaintance with one of Antonius cookes, he tooke him with him to Antonius house, (being a young man desirous to see things) to shew him the wonderfull sumptuous charge and preparation of one only
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supper. When he was in the kitchin, and saw a world of diuersities of meates, and
amongst others, eight wild boares rosted whole : he began to wonder
at it, and saide, sure you haue a great number of guestes to sapper.
, u, 2x3. rj.j^g cooke fell a laughing, and answered him, no (quoth he) not many
guestes, nor aboue twelue in all : but yet all that is boyled or roasted
must be serued in whole, or else it would be marred straight. For Antonius per-
aduenture will suppe presently, or it may be a pretie while hence, or likely enough he
will deferre it longer, for that he hath drunke well to day, or else hath had some
other great matters in hand : and therefore we doe not dresse one supper onely, but
many suppers, because we are uncertaine of the houre he will suppe in. Philotas the
Phisitian tolde my grandfather this tale. . . .
But now againe to Cleopatra, Plato writeth that there are foure kinds of flatterie : but Cleopatra deuided it into many kinds. For she, were it in sport, or in matters of earnest, still deuised sundrie newe delights to haue Antonius at conomaundement, neuer leaning him night nor day, nor once letting him go out of her sight For she would play at dice with him, drinke with him, & hunt commonly with him,
and also be with him when he went to any exercise or actiuitie of body. And sometime also, when he would go vp and downe the ' ' * citie disguised as a slaue in the night, & would peere into poore
mens windowes & their shop>s, and scold and braule with them within the house : Cleopatra would be also in a chamber maides array, and amble vp and downe the streetes with him, so that oftentimes Antonius bare away both mockes and blowes. Now, though most men misliked this manner, yet the Alex- andrians were commonly glad of this iolity, and liked it well, saying very gallantly, and wisely : that Antonius shewed them a comicall face, to wit, a merie countenance: and the Romaines a tragicall face, to say, a grimme looke. But to reckon vp all the foolish sportes they made, reuelling in this sort : it were too fonde a part of me, and therefore I will only tell you one among the rest. On a time he went to angle for fish, and when he could take none, he was as angrie as could be, because Cleopatra stood by. Wlierefore he secretly commaunded the fisher men, that when he cast in his line, they should straight diue vnder the water, and put a fish on his hooke which they had taken before : and so snatched vp his angling rodde, and brought vp fish twise or thrise. Cleopatra found it straight, yet she seemed not to see it, but wondred at his excellent fishing : but when she was alone by her selfe among her owne people, she tolde them how it was, and bad them the next morning to be on the water to see the fishing. A number of people came to the hauen, and got into the fisher boates to see this fishing. Antonius then threw in his line and
Cleopatra straight commanded one of her men to diue vnder water before Antonius men, and to put some old salt fish vpon his baite, 1» V, 21. jjj^^ ^^^^ \host that are brought out of the country of PoNT. When he had hong the fish on his hook, Antonius thinking he had taken a fish in deede, snatched vp his line presently. Then they all fell a laughing. Cleopatra laughing also, said vnto him: leaue vs (my Lord) ^EGYPTIANS (which dwell in the country of Pharvs & Canobus) your angling rod : this is not thy pro- fession : thou must hunt after conquering of realmes and countries. Now Antonius delighting in these fond and childish pastimes, very ^ ' 'ill newes were brought him from two places. The first from RoifB, that his brother Lucius and Fuluia his wife, fell out first betwene themselues, and afterwards fell to open warre with Casar^ & had brought all to
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nought, that they were both driuen to fiie out of Italy. The second newes, as bad as the first : that Labienus conquered all Asia with the armie of the Par- THIANS, from the riuer of Euphrates, and from Syria, ynto the countries of Lydia and Ionia. Then beganne ArUonius with much a do, a litle to rouse him selfe as if he had bene wakened ' ' ^* out of a deepe sleepe, and as a man may say, comming out of a great dnmkennesse. So, first of all he bent himselfe against the Parthians, and went as farre as the country of Phcenicia : but there he receiued lamentable letters from his wife Ftduia, Whereupon he straight returned towardes Italy, with two hundred saile: and as he went, took vp his friends by the way that fled out of Italie, to come to him. By them he was informed, that his wife Fuluia was the only cause of this warre : who being of a peeuish, crooked, and troublesome nature, had purposely raised this vprore in Italy, in hope thereby to with- draw him from Cleopatra, But by good fortune, his wife Fuluia going to meete with Antonius sickned by the way, and died in the ' * ^^* dtie of SiCYONE : and therefore Oclavius Casar^ and he were the easilier made friends together. For when Antonius landed in Italie, and that men saw Casar asked nothing of him, and that Antonius on the other side laide all the fault & burden on his wife Fuluia : the friendes of both parties would not suffer them to vnrippe any old matters, and to proue or defend who had the wrong or right, and who was the first procurer of this warre, fearing to make matters worse betwene them : but they made them friendes together, and deuided the Empire of Rome betwene them, making the sea Ionium the bounds of their dluiston. For they gaue all the prouinces Eastward vnto Antonius : and the countries Westward, vnto Casar: and left Africke vnto Lepidus : and made a law, that they three one after an other should make their friends Consuls, when they would not be themselues. This seemed to be a good councell, but yet it was to be confirmed with a straighter bond, which fortune offered thus. There was Octauia the eldest sister of Oesar, not by one mother, for she came of Ancharia^ & Casar him- selfe afterwards of Accia, It is reported, that he dearly loued his ' ' ^^* sister Octauia^ for in deede she was a noble Ladie, and left the widow of her first husband Caius MarcelluSy who died not long before : and it seemed also that Antonius had bene widower euer since the death of his wife Fuluia^ For he denied not that he kept Cleopatra^ but so did he not confesse that he had her as his wife : & so with reason he did defend the loue he bare vnto this iEcPYTiAN Cleopatra. Thereupon euery man did set forward this mariage, hoping thereby that this Ladie Octauia^ hauing an excellent grace, wisedom, & honestie, ioyned vnto so rare a beautie, that when she were with Antonius (he louing her as so worthy a Ladie desenieth) she should be a good meane to keepe good loue & amitie betwixt her brother and him. So when Casar & he had made the match betwene them, they both went to Rome about this mariage, although it was against the law, that a widow should be maried within tenne monthes after her husbandes death. Howbeit the Senate dispensed with the law, and so the mariage proceeded accordingly. Sextus Pompeius at that time kept in SiciLiA, and so made many an inrode into Italie with a great number of pynnasies and other pirates . shippes, of the which were Captaines two notable pirats, Menas and ' ' ^ ' AfentcrateSf who so scoured all the sea thereabouts, that none durst peepe out with a saile. Furthermore, Sextus Pompeius had dealt very friendly with Antonius, for he had courteously receiued his mother, when she fled out of Itaue
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APPENDIX
with Fuluia : and therefore they thought good to make peace with him. So they met all three together by the mount of Misena, vpon a hill that runneth farre into the sea : Ponipey hauing his shyppes ryding hard by at anker, and Antonius and Qtsar their armies vpon the shore side, directly ouer against him. Now, after they had agreed that Sextus Potnpeius should haue SiciLE and Sardinia, with this condition, that he should ridde the sea of all theeues and pirats, and make it safe for passengers, and
withall that he should send a certaine of wheate to Rome : one of
them did feast an other, and drew cuts who should beginne. It was
, VI, lo . poffipeius chaunce to inuite them first. Whereupon Antonius asked
him : and where shall we sup ? There, said Pompey^ and shewed
him his admirall galley which had sixe banks of owers : that (said he) is my fathers
house they haue left me. He spake it to taunt Antonius^ because
*If VI, 34. he had his fathers house, that was Potnpey the great. So he cast
II, vii, 151. anckers enow into the sea, to make his galley fast, and then built a
bridge of wood to conuey them to his galley, from the head of mount
Misena : and there he welcomed them, and made them great cheere. Now in the
middest of the feast, when they fell to be merie with Antonius loue vnto CieoptUra :
Almas the pirate came to Pompey^ & whispering in his eare, said
vnto him : shall I cut the gables of the ankers, and make thee Lord
» vu, 4. ^^^ ^^j^ ^^ SiciLE and Sardinia, but of the whole Empire of
Rome besides ? Pompey hauing paused a while vpon it, at length
answered him : thou shouldest haue done it, and neuer haue told it me, but now we
must content vs with that we haue. As for my selfe, I was neuer taught to breake
my faith, nor to be counted a traitor. The other two also did like- wise feast him in their campe, and then he returned into SiciLE. » » 49' Antonius after this agreement made, sent Ventidius before into AsiA to stay the Parthians, and to keepe them they should come no further : and he himselfe in the meane time, to gratilie Casar^ was contented to be chosen Julius Casars priest and sacrificer, & so they ioyntly together dispatched all great matters, concerning the state of the Empire. But in all other maner of sports and exercises, wherein they passed the time away the one with the other: Antonius was euer inferior vnto Casar, & alway lost, which grieued him much. With Antonius there was a soothsayer or astronomer of JEjgyvTj that could cast a figure, and iudge of mens natiuities, to tell them what should happen to them. He, either to please Cleopatra, or else for that he found it so by his art, tolde Antonius plainely, that his fortune (which of it selfe was excellent good, and very great) was
altogether bleamished and obscured by Casars fortune : and there- fore he counselled him vtterly to leaue his company, and to get him II 111 22 * * ^
' ' * as farre from him as he could. For thy Demon, said he, (that is to
say, the good angell and spirit that keepeth thee) is alfraide of his: and being coragious & high when he is alone, becometh fearfuU and timerous when he commeth neere vnto the other. Howsoeuer it was, the euents ensuing proued the ./^Igyftians words true. For, it is said, that as often as they two drew cuts for pas- time, who should haue anything, or whether they plaied at dice, Antonius alway lost
Oftentimes when they were disposed to see cockfight, or qoailes that
were taught to fight one with an other : Casars cockes or qoailes did ' * ^^' euer ouercome. The which spighted Antonius in his mind, although
he made no outward shew of it : and therefore he beleeued the iGcYT- tian the better. In fine, he recommended the affaires of his house vnto Qtsar, & went
PLUTARCH 395
out of Italy with Octauia his wife, whom he caried into Grece, after he had had a daughter by her. So Anionius lying al the winter at Athens, news came vnto him of the victories of VeniidiuSy who had ouercome the Parthians in battell, in the which also were slaine, Labienus and Phamabates^ the chiefest Captaine king Orodes had. For these good newes he feasted all Athens, and kept open house for all the Grecians, and many games of price were plaid at Athens, of the which he himselfe would be iudge. Wherefore leauing his gard, his axes, and tokens of his Empire at his house, he came into the shew place (or listes) where these games were plaide in a long gowne and slippers after the Grecian fashion, and they caried tippestaues before him, as martial s men do carie before the ludges to make place : and he him- selfe in person was a stickler to part the young men, when they had fought enough. After that, preparing to go to the warres, he made him a garland of the holy Oliue, and caried a vessell with him of the water of the fountaine Clepsydra, because of an Oracle he had receiued that so commaunded him. In the meane time, Ventidius once againe ouercame Pacorus, ( Orodes sonne king of Parthia) in a battel fought in the country of Cyrrestica, he » *♦ '•
being come againe with a great armie to inuade Syria : at which battell was slaine a great number of the Parthians, & among them Pacorus, the kings owne sonne slaine. This noble exploit as famous as euer any was, was a full reuenge to the Romaines, of the shame and losse they had receiued before by the death of Marcus Crassus : and he made the Parthians flie, and glad to keepe them- selues within the confines and territories of Mesopotamia, & Media, after they had thrise together bene ouercome in seueral battels. How- III, i, x6. bcit Ventidius durst not vndertake to follow them any farther, fearing m i 22. least he should haue gotten Anionius displeasure by it. Notwith- standing, he led his armie against them that had rebelled, and conquered them againe : amongst whom he besieged Antiochus, king of Commagena, who offered to giue him a thousand talents to be pardoned his rebellion, and promised euer after to be at Antonius commaundement. But Ventidius made him answere, that he should send vnto Antonius^ who was not farre off, & would not suffer Ventidius to make any peace with Antiochus^ to the end that yet this litle exploit should passe in his name, and that they should not thinke he did anything but by his Lieutenant Ventidius, The siege grew very long, because they that were in the towne, seeing they could not be receiued vppon no reasonable composition : determined valiantly to defend themselues to the last man. Thus Antonius did nothing, and yet receiued great shame, repent- ing him much that he tooke not their first offer. And yet at last he was glad to make truce with Antiochus, and to take three hundred talents for composition. Thus after he had set order for the state & affaires of Syria, he returned againe to Athens : and hauing giuen Ventidius such honours as he deserued, he sent him to Rome, to triumph for the Parthians. Ventidius was the onely man that euer triumphed of the Parthians vntill this present day, a meane man borne, and of no noble house nor family : who only came to that he attained vnto, through Antonius friendshippe, the which deliuered him happie occasion to atchieue to great matters. And yet to say truely, -he did so well quit himselfe in all his enterprises, that he confirmed that which was spoken of Antonius and Casar : to wit, III, i, 20. that they were alway more fortunate when they made warre by their \\\ j^ ^2. Lieutenants, then by themselues. For Sossius, one of Antonius Lieu- tenants in Syria, did notable good seruice : and Canidius whom he had also left his Lieutenant in the borders of Armenia, did conquer it all. So did he also ouercome
396 APPENDIX
the kings of the Iberians and Albanians, and went on with his conquests vnto mount Caucasus. By these conquests, the fame of Antonius power increased more and more, and grew dreadful! vnto all the barbarous nations. But Antoniui notwith- standing, grew to be maruellously offended with Casar, vpon certaine reportes that had beene brought vnto him : and so tooke sea to go towards Italy with three hun- dred saile. And because those of Brvndvsivm would not recdue his armie into their hauen, he went farther vnto Tarbntvm. There his wife Octauia that came
out of Grecb with him, besought him to send her vnto her brother :
III, iv, 27. the which he did. Octauia at that time was great with child, and moreouer had a second daughter by him, and yet she put her selfe
III, vi, 43. in iomey, and met with her brother Octauius Qesar by the way, who brought his two chiefe friends, Macenas and Agrippa with him. She tooke them aside, and with all the instance she could possible, intreated them they would not suffer her that was the happiest woman of the worlde, to become now the most wretched and vnfortunatest creature of all other. For now, said she, euery mans eyes doe gaze on me, that am the sister of one of the Emperors and wife of the other. And if the worst counsell take place, (which the goddes forbid) and that they growe to warres : for your selues, it is vncertaine to which of them two the goddes haue assigned the victorie, or ouerthrowe. But for me, on which side soeaer victorie fall, my state can be but most miserable still. These wordes of Ociama so softned Casars heart, that he went quickly vnto Tarentvm. . . .
Antonius also leauing his wife Octauia and litle children begotten of her with Casar, and his other children which he had by Fuluia : he went directly into Asia. Then beganne this pestilent plague and mischiefe of CUopatraes loue (which had slept a long time, and seemed to haue beene vtterly forgotten, and that Antonim had giuen place to better counsell) againe to kindle, and to be in force, so soone as Antonius came neare vnto Syria. And in the end, the horse of the minde as Plat9 termeth it, that is so hard of raine ( I meane the vnreyned lust of concupiscence) did put out of AnUmius head, all honest and commendable thoughtes : for he sent Fom- teius Capita to bring Cleopatra into Syria. Vnto whom, to welcome her, he gaoe no trifling things : but vnto that she had already, he added the prouinces of Phgb- nicia, those of the nethermost Syria, the He of Cypr vs, and a great part of Cilioa, and that countrey of Ivry, where the true balme is, and that part of Arabia where the Nabatheians doe dwell, which stretcheth out towardes the Ocean. These great giftes much misliked the Romaines. But now, though Antonius did easily giue away great seigniories, realmes, and mighty nations vnto some priuate men, and that also he tooke from other kings their lawfull realms (as from Antigonus king of the Ievves, whom he openly beheaded, where neuer king before had suffered like death) yet all this did not so much offend the Romaines, as the vnmeasorable honors which he did vnto Cleopatra, But yet he did much more aggimuat their malice and ill will towards him, because that Cleopatra hauing brought htm two twins, a sonne and a daughter, he named his son Alexander^ and his daughter Cleopatra^ and gaue them to their surnames, the Sun to the one, and the moone to the other. . . .
This so great and puisant army which made the Indians quake for fear, dwelling about the country of the Bactrians, & all Asia also to tremble : seined him to no purpose, & all for the loue he bare to Cleopatra, For the earnest great desire he had to lie all winter with her, made him begin his warre out of due time, and for hast, to put all in hazard, being so rauished and enchaunted with the sweete poison of her
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lone, that he had no other thought but of her, and how he might quickly returne againe : more then how he might ouercome his enemies. . . .
Then seeing him selfe enuironned of all sides, he sent vnto the army, that they should come and aide him : but there the Captaines that led the legions (among the which Canidius, a man of great estimation about Antanius made one) committed many faults.
Now whilest Antonius was busie in this preparation, Octauia his wife, whom he had left at Rome, would needes take sea to come vnto him. Her brother Octauius Casar was willing vnto it, not for his respect at all (as most authors doe report) as for that he might haue an honest colour to make warre with Antonius if he did mis- use her, and not esteeme of her as she ought to be. But when she was come to Athens, she receiued letters from Antonius, willing her to stay there vntill his com- ming, & did aduertise her of his iomey and determination. The which though it grieued her much, and that she knew it was but an excuse : yet by her letters to him of aunswere, she asked him whether he would haue those things sent vnto him which she had brought him, being great store of apparell for souldiers, a great number of horse, summe of money and gifts, to bestow on his friends and Captaines he had about him : and besides all those, she had two thousande souldiers chosen men, all well armed like vnto the Praetors bands. When Niger, one of Antonius friendes whom he had sent vnto Athens, had brought these newes from his wife Octauia ^ and withall did greatly praise her, as she was worthy, and well deserued : Cleopatra knowing that Octauia would haue Antonius from her, and fearing also that if with her vertue and honest behauior, (besides the great power of her brother Otsar") she did adde thereunto her modest kind loue to please her husband that she would then be too strong for her, and in the end winne him away : she subtilly seemed to lan- guish for the loue of Antonius, pining her body for lacke of meate. Furthermore, she euery way so framed her countenance, that when Antonius came to see her, she cast her eyes vpon him, like a woman rauished for ioy. Straight againe when he went from her, she fell a weeping and blubbering, looked ruefully of the matter, and still found she meanes that Antonius should oftentimes iinde her weeping : and then when he came sodainely vpp>on her, she made as though she dried her eyes, and tamed her face away, as if she were vn willing that he should see her weepe. . . .
When Octauia was returned to Rome from Athens, Casar commanded her to goe out of Antonius house, and to dwell by herselfe, because he had abused her. Octauia answered him againe, that she would not forsake her husbands house, and that if he had no other occasion to make warre with him, she prayed him then to take no thought for her : for sayed she, it were too shamefull a thing, that two famous Captaines should bring in ciuill warres among the Romains, the one for the loue of a woman, and the other for the iealousie betwixt one another. Now as she spake the word, so did she also performe the deede. For she kept still in Antonius house, as if he had bene there, and very honestly, and honorably kept his children, not those onely she had by him, but the other which her husband had by Fuluia. Furthermore, when Antonius sent any of his men to Rome, to sue for any office in the common wealth : she receiued him very curteously, and so vsed her selfe vnto her brother, that she obtained the thing she requested. Howbeit thereby, thinking no hurt, she did Antonius great hurt. For her honest loue and regard to her hus- band, made euery man hate him, when they sawe he did so vnkindly vse so noble a Ladle : but yet the greatest cause of their malice vnto him, was for the diuision of lands he made amongst his children in the citie of Alexandria. And to confesse
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a troth, it was too arrogant and insolent a part, and done (as a man would say) in derision and contempt of the Romains. For he assembled all the people in the shew place, where young men doe exercise themselues, and there vppon a high
tribunall siluered, he set two chaires of gold, the one for himsdfe,
III vi 3. ^^^ ^^ other for Cleopatra ^ViViA lower chaires for his children : then
he openly published before the assembly, that first of all he did
III, VI, II. establish Cleopatra Queene of ^gypt, of Cyprys, of Lydia, and
III, vi, 7. of the lower Syria, and at that time also, Gesarion king of the same
realmes. This Gesarion was supposed to be the sonne of luiius
Casar^ who had left Cleopatra great with child. Secondly he called the sonnes he
had by her, the kings of kings, & gaue Alexander for his portion, Armenia, Media,
and Parthia, when he had conquered thecountrie: and vnto Ptolomy III, vi, 16. for his portion, Phenicia, Syria, and Cilicia. And therwithall he brought out Alexander in a long gowne after the fashion of the Medes with a high copped tanke hat on his head, narrow in the toppe, as the kings of the Medes and Armenians doe vse to weare them : and Ptolomy apparelled in a cloke after the Macedonian maner, with slippers on his feete, and a broad hat, with a royal band or diademe. Such was the apparell and old attire of the auncient kings and successours of Alexander the great. So after his sonnes had done their humble duties, and kissed their father and mother : presently a company of Arme- nian souldiers set there of purpose, compassed the one about, and a like company of the Macedonians the other. Now for Cleopatra^ she did not only weare at that time, (but at all other times els when she came abroad) the apparell of the goddesse IsUy and so gaue audience vnto all her subiects, as a new Isis. Octauius Casar reporting all these things vnto the Senate, and oftentimes accusing him to the whole people and assembly in Rome : he thereby stirred vp all the Romains against him. Antonius on the other side sent to Rome likewise to accuse him, and the chiefest
pointes of his accusations he charged him with, were these. First, III, vi, 18. that hauing spoiled Sextus Pompeius in SiciLE, he did not giue him III vi 27. ^^^ P^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^* Secondly, that he did detayne in his hands the shippes he lent him to make that warre. Thirdly, that hauing pat Lepidus their companion and triumuirate out of his part of the Empire, and hauing depriued him of all honors : he retayned for him selfe the lands and reuenues thereof, which had bene assigned vnto him for his part. And last of all, that he had in manner deuided all Italy amongest his owne souldiers, and had left no part of it for his souldiers. Octauius Casar aunswered him againe : that for Lepidus, he had in deede deposed him, and taken his part of the Empire from him, because he did ouercruelly vse his authoritie. And secondly, for the conquests he had made by force of armes, he was contented Antonius should haue his part of them, so that he would likewise let him haue his part of Armenia. And thirdly, that for his soul- diers, they should seeke for nothing in Italy, because they possessed Media and Parthia, the which prouinces they had added to the Empire of Rome, valiantly fighting with their Emperor and Giptaine. Antonius hearing these newes, being yet in Armenia, commaunded Canidius to goe presently to the sea side with his six- teene legions he had : and he himselfe with Cleopatra^ went vnto the citie of EPH- Esvs, and there gathered together his gallies and shippes out of all partes, which came to the number of eight hundreth, reckoning the great shippes of burden : and of those Cleopatra furnished him with two hundreth, and twenty thousand talents besides, & prouision of victuals also to mainteine all the whole armie in this warre.
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So AmtoHius, through the perswasions of Domitiusj commaunded CUopatra^ to retume agaune into Egypt, and there to vnderstand the successe of this warre. Bat CUo- patra^ fearing least Antanius should againe be made friends with Ocfamus Grsar, by the meanes of his wife Octauia : she so plyed Canidius with money, and filled his purse, that he became her spokesman vnto Anionius, and told him there was do reason to send her from this war, who defraied so great a charge : neither that it was for his profit, because that thereby the Egyptians would then be vtterly discoraged, which were the chiefest strength of the armie by sea : considering that he could see no king of all the kings their confederates, that Cleopatra was inferior vnto, either for wisedom or iudgement, seeing that long before she had wisely gouemed so great m realme as yEoYFr, & besides that she had bene so long acquainted with him, by whom she had learned to manedge great affaires. These faire perswasions wanne him : for it was predestined that the gouemment of all the world should fall into Octauius Casars handes. Octauius Casar vnderstanding the sodaine & wonderfull great preparation of An/omus, he was not a litle III, iv, 30. astonied at it, (fearing he should be driuen to fight that sommer) because he wanted many things, & the great and grieuous exactions of money did sorely oppresse the people. . . .
Furthermore, Titius and Plancus (two of Antonius chiefest friendes and that had bene both of them Consuls) for the great iniuries Cleopatra did them, because they hindred all they could, that she should not come to this warre : they went and yeelded themselues vnto Casar^ and tolde him where the testament was that Antonius had made, knowing perfitly what was in it. The will was ••• . in the custody of the Vestall Nunnes : of whom Casar demanded for it They answered him, that they would not giue it him : but if he would goe and take it, they would not hinder him. Thereupon Casar went thither, & hauing read it first to himselfe, he noted certen places worthy of reproch : so assembling all the Senate, he read it before them all. . . . Ill, iv, 5.
Now after that Casar had made sufficient preparation, he pro- claimed open warre against Cleopatra^ and made the people to III, vii, 7. abolish the power and Empire of Antonius, because he had before giuen it vp vnto a woman. And Casar sayed furthermore, that Antonius was not Maister of himselfe, but that Cleopatra had brought him beside himselfe, by her charmes and amarous poysons: and that they that shoulde make warre with them, should be Mardian the Eunuch, Phoiinus, and w.. ^ Iras^ a woman of Cleopatraes bedchamber, that frizeled her haire, and dressed her head, and Charmion, the which were those that ruled all the affaires of Antonius Empire. Before this warre as it is reported, many signes and wonders fell out. . . . The Admiral galley of Cleopatra^ was called AntoniaJe, in the which there chanced a III, z, 6. maruellous ill signe. Swallowes had bred vnder the poop of her jy^ ^ii, 7. ship, and there came others after them that draue away the first, and plucked down their neasts. Now when all things were readie, & that they drew neare to fight : it was found that Antonius had no lesse then fine hundreth good ships of war, among which there were many gallies that had eight & ten bancks of owers, the which were sumptuously furnished, not so meete for fight, as for triumph : a hundred thousand footmen, and twelue thousand horsemen, and had III, vi, 76. with him to aide him these kings and subiectes following. Bocchus king of Libya, Tarcddemus king of high SiuciA, Arckelaus king of CAPPADoaA,
A
400
APPENDIX
Philadelphus king of Paphlagonia, Mithridates king of CoMAGENA, and Adallas king of Thracia. All which were there euery man in person. The residue that were absent sent their armies, as PoUmon king of Pont, Manchus king of Arabia, Heroda king of IVRY : and furthermore, Amyntas king of Lycaonia, & of the Galatians : and besides all these, he had all the aide the king of Meoes sent vnto him. Now for Casar, he had two hundreth and fiftie ships of warre, fourescore thousand foot- men, and well neare as many horsmen as his enemie Antonius. Antonius for his part, had all vnder his dominion from Armenia, & the riuer of Euphrates, vnto the sea loNiVM & Illyricvm. Octauius Casar had also for his part, all that which was in our Hemisphere, or halfe part of the world, from Illyria, unto the Ocean sea vpon the west : then all from the Ocean, vnto mare Siculum : & from Africk, all that which is against Italy, as Gavle, & Spain. Furthermore, all from the prooince of Cyrenia, to i^THlOPiA, was subject vnto Anionius. Now Antonius was made so subiect to a womans will, that though he was a great deale the stronger hf land, yet for CUopatraes sake he would needes haue this battell tryed by sea : though he sawe before his eyes, that for lacke of water-menne, his Captaines did prest by force
all sortes of men out of Grece that they could take vp in the field, • l J £. as trauellers, muletters, reapers, haruest men, and young boyes, and
yet could they not sufficiently furnish his gallies : so that the most
parte of them were eroptie, and could scant row, because they lacked water-men enowe. But on the contrarie side Casars shippes were not built
for pompe, high and great, onely for a fight and brauery, but they
III vii a8 ^^^^ ^*S^^ ^^ yarage : armed and furnished with water-men as many
as they needed, and had them al in readines, in the hauens of Tarentvm , & Brvnd vsi VM. So Octauius Otsar sent vnto Antonius^ to will him to delay no more time, but to come on with his army into Italy : and that for his owne part he would giue him safe harbor, to land without any trouble, and that he would withdraw his armie from the sea, as farre as one hone could runne, vntil he had put his army a shore, & had lodged his men. Antonius on the other side brauely sent him word againe, and chalenged the combat of him man to man, though he were the elder : and that if he refused him so, he would then fight a battell with him in the fields of Pharsalia, as Julius Casar^ & Pompey had done before. Now whilst Anionius rode at anker, lying idlely in harbor at the head of AcTiUM, in the place where the ciiie of NicoPOLis standeth at this present : Oesar had quickly passed the sea Ionium, and taken a place called ToRYNE, before ylff/Mmtf vnderstoode that he had taken ship. . . .
Furthermore, he delt very friendly and courteously with Domiiius^ and against CUopatraes minde. For, he being sicke of an agew when he went
IV V 1 8 ^^^ tooke a litle boate to go vnto Casars campe, Anionius was very
sorie for it, but yet he sent after him all his cariage, traine, and men : IV iz 27 ^"^ ^^ same Domiiius^ as though he gaue him to vnderstand that
he repented his open treason, he died immediately after. . . . And Canidius also, who had charge of his armie by land, when time came to follow Antonius determination : he turned him cleane contrarie, and counselled him to send Cleopatra backe againe, and himselfe to retire into Macedon, to fight there on the maine land. And furthermore told him, that Dicotnes king of the Gbtks, promised him to aid him with a great power : and that it should be no shame nor dishonor to him to let Casar haue the sea, (because himselfe and his men both had bene well practised and exercised in battels by sea, in the warre of SiLICIA against Sexius Pom-
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pdus) but rather that he should doe against all reason, he hauing so great skill and
experience of battelles by land as he had, if be should not imploy the force and
▼aliantnes of so many lusty armed footemen as he had readie, but
would weaken his armie by deuiding them into shippes. But now III, vii, 5a.
notwithstanding all these good perswasions, Cleopatra forced him to \\\ yij^ k^.
put all to the hazard of battell by sea : considering with her selfe
how she might flie and prouide for her safetie, not to helpe him to win the victorie :
but to flie more easily after the battell lost. . . .
So when Antonius had determined to fight by sea, he set all the other shippes on fire, but threescore ships of Egypt, and reserued onely but the best and greatest gallies, from three bancks, vnto tenne bancks of owers. Into them he put two & twenty thousand fighting men, with two thousand darters & slingers. Now as he was setting his men in order of battel, there was a dptaine, and a valiant man, that had serued Antonius in many battels & conflicts, & had all his body hacked and cut: who as Antonius passed by him, cryed out vnto him & said; O noble Emperor, how commeth it to passe that you trust to these vile •«• £. « brittle shippes ? what doe you mistrust these wounds of mine and this sword? let the Egyptians and Phenicians fight by sea, and set vs on the maine land, where we vse to conquer, or to be slaine on our feete. Antonius passed by him and said neuer a word, but onely beckned to him with his hand & head, as though he willed him to be of good courage, although indeed he had no great courage himselfe. . . .
All that day and the three dayes following, the sea rose so high & was so boister- ous, that the battell was put ofl*. The fift day the storme ceased, and the sea calmed againe and then they rowed with force of owers in battell one against the other. . . .
Now Publicola seing Agrippa put forth his left wing of Casars armie, to compasse in Antonius shippes that fought : he was driuen also to loofe ofl* to haue more roome, ft going a litle at one side, to put those farther ofl* that were affraid, and in the mid- dest of the battell. For they were sore distressed by Aruntius,
Howbeit the battell was yet of euen hand, and the victorie doubtfull,
III z z8 being indifferent to both : when sodainely they sawe the threescore ' '
shippes of Cleopatra busie about their yard masts, and hoysing saile
to flie. So they fled through the middest of them that were in fight, for they had
bene placed behind the great shippes, & did maruellously disorder the other shippes.
For the enemies them selues wondred much to see them saile in that sort, with ful
saile towards Peloponnesvs. There Antonius shewed plainly, that he had not
onely lost the courage and hart of an Emperor, but also of a valiant man, & that he
was not his owne man: (prouing that true wliich an old man spake in myrth, that
the soule of a louer ISued in another body, and not in his owne) he was so caned
away with the vaine loue of this woman, as if he had bene glued vnto her, & that
she could not haue remoued without mouing of him also. For when he saw Cleo-
patraes shippe vnder saile, he forgot, forsook, & betrayed them that fought for him,
& imbarked vpon a galley with fiue bankes of owers, to follow her
that was already begun to ouerthrow him, & would in the end be
his vtter destruction. When she knew his galley a farre off", she lift ' * '*
vp a signe in the poope of her shippe, and so Antonius coming to it,
was pluckt vp where Cleopatra was, howbeit he saw her not at his first comming,
nor she him, but went and sate downe alone in the prow of his shippe, and saied
neuer a word, clapping his head betweene both his hands. . . .
36
402
APPENDIX
After EurycUs had left Antonius^ he returned againe to his place, and sate downe, speaking neuer a word as he did before : and so lined three dayes alone, without
speaking to any man. But when he arriued at the head of Taenams,
III 1 «8 ^cre CUopairaes women first brought Antonius and CUopatra to
speake together, and afterwards, to suppe and lye together. Then
beganne there againe a great number of Marchaunts shippes to gather
about them, and some of their friends that had escaped from this ouerthrow : who
brought newes, that his army by sea was ouerthrown, but that they thought the army
by land was yet whole. Then ArUoftius sent vnto CanidiuSf to return with his army
into Asia, by Macedon. Now for himself, he determined to ciosse ... . ouer into Africk, & took one of his carects or bulks loden with
111 Zl 2^
gold, siluer, and other rich cariage, & gaue it vnto his friends : com>
manding them to depart, and to seeke to saue themselues. They answered him weeping, that they would neither doe it, nor yet forsake him. Then Ani&nius verie courteously and louingly did comfort them, and prayed them to depart : and wrote vnto Theophilus gouemor of Corinthe, that he would see them safe, and helpe to hide them in some secret place, vntill they had made their way & peace with Casar. . . .
And thus it stood with Antonius, Now for his armie by sea, that fought before
the head or foreland of Activm : they helde out a long time, and ... . nothing troubled them more then a great boysterous winde that rose
full in the prooes of their shippes and yet with much a doe, his nanie
was at length ouerthrowen, fine houres within night. . . . But now to retume to Antonius againe. Canidius himselfe came to bring him newes, that he had lost all his armie by land at Activn : on the other side he was aduertised also, that Herodes king of Ivrie, who had also certen legions and bandes with him, was reuolted vnto Casar, and all the other kings in like manner : so that, sauing those that were about him, he had none left him. All this notwithstanding did nothing trouble him, and it seemed that he was contented to forgoe all his hope, and so to be ridde of all his care and troubles. Thereupon he left his solitarie bouse he had built by the sea which he called Timoneon, and CUopatra receiued him into her ro3rall pallace. He was no sooner com thither, but he straight set all the citie on rioting and banquetting againe, and himselfe to liberalitie and giftes. He caused the Sonne of Julius Casar & C/fopatra, to be enrolled (according to the manner of the ROMAINS) amongst the number of young men : and gaue Antyl/us, his eldest son he had by Eu/uia, the mans gown, the which was a plaine gowne, without gard or
embroderie of purple. For these things, there was kept great feast- III, xiii, 3. ing, banquetting and dancing in Alexandria many dayes together.
In deede they did breake their first order they had set downe, which they called Amimetobion, (as much to say, no life comparable) & did set vp another, which they called Synapothanumenon (signifying the order and agreement of those that will dye together) the which in exceeding sumptuousnes, and cost was not inferior to the first. For their friendes made themselues to be inrolled in this order of those that would die together, and so made great feastes one to another : for euerie mim when it came to his tume, feasted their whole companie and ftatemitie. CUopatra in the meane time was verie carefull in gathering all sorts of poysons together, to destroy men. Now to make proofe of those poysons which made men die with least paine, she tiyed it vpon condemned men in prison. For when she saw the poysons that were sodaine and vehement, and brought speedy death with grieuous torments: & in contraxy
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manner, that sach as were more milde and gentle, had not that quicke speede and force to make one dye sodainely : she afterwardes went about to proue the stinging of snakes and adders, and made some to be applyed vnto men in her sight, some in one sorte and some in another. So when she had daily made diuers and sundrie proofes, she found none of them all she had proued so fit, as the biting of an Aspick, the which causeth onely a heauines of the head, without swounding or complaining, and bringeth a great desire also to sleepe, with a litle swet in the face, and so by litle and litle taketh away the senses & vitall powers, no liuing creature perceiuing that the patients feele any paine. For they are so sorie when any bodie awaketh them, and taketh them vp : as those that being taken out of a sound sleep, are very heauie and desirous to sleepe. This notwithstanding, they sent Ambassadors vnto Octatdus Oesar in Asia, CUopatra requesting the realme of iEcYPT for their children, and Antonius praying that he might be suffered to Hue at Athens like a priuate mA, if Casar would not let him remaine in JEgyvt, And because they had no other men of estimation about them, for that some were fled, and those that remained, they did not greatly trust them : they were inforced to - ,- .. send Euphronius the schoolemaister of their children. For AUxas Laodician, who was brought into Antonius house & fauour by meanes of Tiniagenes^ and afterwards was in greater credit with him, then any other Grecian : (for that he had alway bene one of CUopairaes ministers to win AntoniuSy & to ouerthrow all his good determinations to vse his wife Octauia well) him Antonius had sent vnto Herodes king of Ivrie, hoping still to keepe him his friend, that he should not reuolt from him. But he remained there, and betrayed Antonius. For where he should haue kept Herodes frO reuolting from him, he perswaded him to turne to Casar : & trusting king Herodesy he pre- sumed to come in Casar s presence. Howbeit Her odes did him no » » /• pleasure : for he was presently taken prisoner, and sent in chaines to his own country, & there by Casars commaundement put to death. Thus was Alexas in Antonius life time put to death, for betraying of him. Furthermore, Casar would not graunt vnto Antonius requestes : but for Cleopatra^ he made her aunswere, that he would deny her nothing reasonable, so that she would either put Antonius to death, or driue him out of her country. There withall he sent nyreus one of his men vnto her, a very wise and discreet man, who bringing letters of credit from a young Lord vnto a noble Lady, ' ' ^ * and that besides greatly liked her beautie, might easily by his elo- quence haue perswaded her. He was longer in talke with her then any man else was, and the Queene her selfe also did him great honour : in somuch as he made Antonius ielous of him. Whereupon Antonius caused him to be taken and well fauoredly whipped, and so sent him vnto Casar : and bad him tell him that he made him angry with him, because ' ' he shewed himselfe proude and disdainfull towardes him, and now specially when he was easie to be angred, by reason of his present miserie. To be short, if this mislike thee sayd he, thou hast Hipparchus one of my infranchised bondmen with thee : hang him if thou wilt, or whippe him at thy pleasure, that we may crie quittaunce. From thenceforth, Cleopatra to cleare her selfe of the suspition he had of her, she made more of him then euer she did. For first of all, where she did solemnise the day of her birth very meanely III, ziii, 2zg. and sparingly, fit for her present misfortune : she now in contrary maner did keepe it with such solemnitie, that she exceeded all measure of sump-
404 APPESDIX
tnonsnesse aod magnificence: so that the guestcs that were bidden to the feasts, and came poore, went away rich. Now things paswng dui-^, Agriffm by diners letters sent one after an other rnto Ots^r^ ^njtd him to letniue to RoMi, because the affaires there did of necessitie reqaire his person and prcsenoe. Tboe- opon he did deferre the wane till the next yeare ic>llowing : bat when done, he returned againe throogh Syria by the coast of Afuocx, to against Am/tmuts, and his other Captainea. ^lien the dtie of Peltsitm w«s taken, there ran a ramor in the dtie, that Stlaina^ by Cletfatnaa consent, had the same. Bat to cleare her selfe that she did not, Otjfmfra htom^ Sdemau and children vnto Amicmius^ to be rcnenged of them at his pleasnre. CUafatra had long before made many samptaons tnmhf% and maBsmcms, as well for ezcellende of workemanship, as for hig^t and gieatnesse of btrilding, iojnnBg hard lo the ten^e of /at. Thither fSat caused to be biunght afl the treasure and ptetioos things she had of the anncient kings her predecesaoms : as fold, afaiec, emcTods pearles^ ebbooie, inocie, and sinamoo, and hrgdrs all that, a mamBdloas vnnbrr of torches, faggots, and fiaxe. So 0:tmmims Ck'sar being afliaycd to ioote snch a treasme and masse of richesse, and that this woman for spigfat woald set it a fire, and bane it enery whit : he alwayes sent some one or other mto her hum him. to pnt her in good comfort, whilest he in the meane time drew neare the cilie with his azmie. So Cfxar came, and piiched his caa^ hard by the citie, m tke pboe ^ihut they mime and manage their bones. Amfmmn made a saly vpoa him, and foc|>ht very valianthr, so that he draae C>rurrj hocsemen backe, tightii^ widi his men cnen into thesx campe. Then he came againe to the pall are, gieally of this Tictone, and sweete^r kissed O.ymi^s^ anned ms he was, when be
the %ht, reoonmendiiig one cf his bkh of anaes Tsto her, thit had
TaliaoiiT foaght in this skzrmiaii. di'fpmtra to ie«aiJ his ma&-
, Tuu 34. 2,^^^^^ g^g^ 2^^ ^^ mrmcfsa k. head peeoe of c^eane gold : hovheit
ibe man ai ars^es wixs he had vecezned this rich gift« stale away bjr BBght, and went :•> Curss'r,^ Aurnmnrr sesrt againe lo rhilrnge Oxfr, to fight with
him hand to hani. Casar ainkswen»d him, dtat he had maonr odber •«. . . wayes to ^hre ibea &x Then Aaamxmi xtiog tkere was no say
mc«e hooocTzru^ ice him to dye, then fighting valiaady : he deter- IV, SI, jt. xBinei to sec tj. his rest, bc<h by sea and land- So beiqg ai stffO,
, as x ss irjkinei \ he ciiiiiinwinacd his imxxis aad hossdmld ler* nan&T> ihi.: waiiei ob him a: ^is hard, iiui d>cy sSkocjd fill his capper hUX, tad make as lanch of tim as they c^xSia z lor sayd be. yon kxww zut whether job sioll di£k so mncL ioc a»e to man-i?w cr n^-«, or wiiesher vck s&all seme an <iCher miister: and it may be yeic s^iul are me no move, bm a aead body. This nm.wiih>fanfcf» pemnm^ iha: bis triends and men ien a wrcpn^ i» heare him say so : to alK that he Vai j^vikci;. he aioei this mne vnt^ ia. ^tu be wscjd not lead then to btf- teH. m^MTt he ^icaif h: luc rasher saiebr ir n^uutt wch ricszirie, then vaBaoCly to dw with h^air«3, Fanheanwre^ the iielie ssane tu^'si wxhia I:ije of midnoght, whea sD tbf citae was qme^ f&I; ,-« ieare. ani aorrrw^ nuniki]^ what wovld be the issae uA
mi «-c ibis ^mirt : t: is suyz rha: 9odairi}y ihey heard a mandhai
ny «^ .^ $w«eQe harmmte of smdrv sr:es cc xnsrcmentes cf hi»»^Ap, wA t w, av. sftw
:he cne of a mxilbmae of pecpie. as dsey had bene «*■■■»« "^ am
hac Mg^ a$> ibe« ^se n: HA-^iat: ieassc wish ^■^^^■'T'TgT and taaiap
%!htK the manner x :he Sa^^Te:^ : and i: «*'!i»f^- ihai this dasnce went thioash ike
city TSto ;he |>ate iha: opeoied xr the fwmiiei. and ihae aH d»e trac^ that maAe thB
PLUTARCH
405
Doyse they heard, went out of the citie at that gate. Now, snch as in reason sought the depth of the interpretation of this wonder, thought that it was the god vnto whom Antonius bare singular deuotion to counterfeit and resemble him, that did forsake them. The next morning by breake of day, he went to set those few footemen he had in order ypon the hils adioyning vnto the citie : and there he stood to behold his gallies which departed from the hauen, and rowed against the gallies of his enemies, and so stood still, looking * ' ^'
what exploit his souldiers in them would do. But when by force of rowing they were come neare vnto them, they first saluted Casars men : and then Casars men resaluted them also, and of two armies made but one, and then did all together row toward the citie. When Antonius saw that his men did forsake him, mnd yeelded vnto Casar^ and that his footemen were broken and ouerthrowen : he then fled into the citie, ciying out that Cleopatra had betrayed him vnto them, with whom he had made warre for her sake. The she being alTrayed of his fury, fled into the tombe which she had caused to be made, and there locked
the doores vnto her, and shut all the springs of the lockes with great
I^^ xiii ^ boltes, and in the meane time sent vnto Antonius to tell him that ' ' ^*
she was dead. Antonius beleeuing it, sayd vnto himselfe: what
doest thou looke for further, Antonius^ sith spightfull fortune hath taken from thee
the onely ioy thou haddest, for whom thou yet reseruedst thy life ? when he had
sayd these words, he went into a chamber & vnarmed himselfe, and being naked said
thus : O Cleopatra^ it grieueth me not that I haue lost thy companie, for I will not
be long from thee : but I am sory, that hauing bene so great a Captaine and Emper-
oor, I am indeede condemned to be iudged of lesse courage & noble
minde, then a woman. Now he had a man of his called Eros, «X7 >•
' IV, XIV, 7a.
whom he loued and trusted much, and whom he had long before caused to sweare vnto him, that he should kill him when he did *"» **^» 97» oommaunde him: and then he willed him to keepe his promise. His man drawing his sword, lift it vp as though he meant to haue striken his mais- ter : but turning his head at one side, he thrust his sword into himselfe, and fell downe dead at his maisters foote. Then sayd Antonius, O noble Eros, I thanke thee for this, and it is valiantly done of thee, to shew me what I should do to my selfe, which thou couldest not do for me. Therewithal! he tooke his sword, and thrust it into his belHe, and so fell downe vpon a litle bed. The wounde he had killed him not presently, for the bloud stinted a litle when he was layed : and when he came somewhat to himselfe againe, he prayed them that were about him to dis- patch him. But they all fled out of the chamber, and left him crying out & torment- ing himselfe : vntill at last there came a Secretarie vnto him called Diomedes, who was commaunded to bring him into the tombe or monument where Cleopatra was. Whe he heard that she was aliue, he very earnestly prayed his men to carie his body thither, and so he was caried in his mens armes into the entry of the monument Notwithstanding, Cleopatra would not open the gates, but came to the high win- dowes, and cast out certaine chaines and ropes, in the which Antonius was trussed : and Cleopatra her owne selfe, with two women onely, which she had suffered to come with her into these monuments, trised Antonius vp. They that were present to behold it, sayd they neuer saw so pitifuU a sight. For, they plucked vp poore Antonius all bloudy as he was, and drawing on with pangs of death, who holding vp his hands to Cleopatra, raised vp himselfe as well as he could. It was a hard thing for these women to do, to lift him vp : but Cleopatra stouping downe with her
4o6 APPENDIX
head, putting all her strength to her vttermost power, did lift him vp with modi a do, and neuer let go her hold, with the helpe of the women beneath that bad her be of good courage, and were as sory to see her labour so, as she her selfe. So when she had gotten him in after that sort, and layed him on a bed : she rent her garments vpon him, clapping her brest, and scratching her face and stomacke. Then she dried vp his bloud that had berayed his face, and called him her Lord, her husband, and Emperour, forgetting her owne miserie and calamity, for the pitie and
compasion she tooke of him. Antonius made her ceasse her lament-
,,, ^ ing, and called for wine, either because he was a thirst, or else for
* * ^ * that he thought thereby to hasten his death. When he had dronke,
he earnestly prayed her, and perswaded her, that she would seeke to saue her life, if she could possible, without reproche and dishonour : and that cheifly she should trust Proculeius aboue any man else about Ccuar, And as for himselfe, that she should not lament nor sorow for the miserable chaunge of his for- tune at the end of his dayes : but rather that she should thinke him the more fortu- nate, for the former triumphes & honours he had receiued, considering that while he lined he was the noblest and greatest Prince of the world, & that now he was oucr- come, not cowardly, but Yaliantly, a Romaine by an other RoMAlNE. As Antonius gaue the laste gaspe, Proculeit€s came that was sent frO Casar, For after AnUmius
had thrust his sword in himselfe, as they caried him into the tombes
and monuments of CUopatray one of his gard called DerceUmSy ' '* ' * tooke his sword with the which he had striken himselfe, and hid it :
then he secretly stale away, and brought Octauius Casar the first newes of his death, & shewed him his sword that was bloudied. Casar hearing these newes, straight withdrew himselfe into a secret place of his tent, and there burst out with teares, lamenting his hard and miserable fortune, that had bene his friend and brother in law, his equall in the Empire, and companion with him in sundry great exploits and battels. Then he called for all his friendes, and shewed them the letters Antonius had written to him, and his aunsweres also sent him againe, during their quarrell and strife : and how fiercely and proudly the other aunswered him, to all iust and reasonable matters he wrote vnto him. After this, he sent ProculnuSy and commaunded him to do what he could possible to get Cleopatra aliue, fearing least otherwise all the treasure would be lost : & furthermore, he thought that if he could take CUopatroj and bring her aliue to Rome, she would maniellously beautifie and set out his triumphe. But Cleopatra would neuer put her selfe into Proculeius handes, although they spake together. For Proculeius came to the gates that were very thicke & strong, and surely barred, but yet there were some cranewes through the which her voyce might be h^rd, and so they without vnderstood, that Cleopatra demaunded the kingdome of i^GYPT for her sonnes : and that Proculeius aunswered her, that she should be of good cheare, and not be affrayed to referre all vnto Casar, After he had viewed the place very well, he came and reported her answere vnto Casar. Who immediately sent Callus to speake once againe with her, and bad him pur- posely hold her with talke, whilest Proculeius did set vp a ladder against that high window, by the which Antonius was trised vp, and came downe into the monument with two of his men hard by the gate, where Cleopatra stood to heare what Callus sayd vnto her. One of her women which was shut in her monumets with her, saw Proculeius by chance as he came downe, and shreeked out : O poore Cleopatra^ thou art taken. Then when she saw Proculeius behind her as she came from the gate, she thought to haue stabbed her selfe in with a short dagger she wore of purpose by
PLUTARCH 407
her side. But Proculeius came sodainly vpon her, and taking her by both the hands, sayd vnto her. Cleopatra^ first thou shalt do thy selfe great wrong, and secondly vnto Grsar : to depriue him of the occasion and oportunitie, openly to shew his bountie and merde, and to giue his enemies cause to accuse the most curteous and noble Prince that euer was, and to appeache him, as though he were a cruell and mercilesse man, that were not to be trusted. So euen as he spake the word, he tooke her dagger from her, and shooke her clothes for feare of any poyson hidden about her. After- wardes Casar sent one of his infranchised men called Epaphroditns^ whom he straightly charged to looke well vnto her, and to beware in any case that she made not her selfeaway : and for the rest, to vse her with all the curtesie possible. . . .
Therefore Casar did put Casarion to death, after the death of his mother Cleo- patra. Many Princes, great kings & Captaines did craue Antonius body of Octauius Cesar y to giue him honourable burial 1 : but Casar would neuer take it from Cleopatra^ who did sumptuously & royally bury him with her own hands, whom Casar sufTred to take as much as she would to bestow vpon his funerals. Now was she altogether ouercome with sorow & passion of minde, for she had knocked her brest so pitifully, that she had martyred it, and in diuers places had raysed vlcers & inflammations, so that she fell into a feuer withall : whereof she was very glad, hoping thereby to haue good colour to absteine from meate, and that so she ^» ^» 59* might haue dyed easily without any trouble. She had a Phisition V, ii, 193. called Olympus, whom she made priuie of her intent, to the end he should helpe her to rid her out of her life : as Olympus writeth himselfe, who vrrote a booke of all these things. But Casar mistrusted the matter, by many coniectures he had, and therefore did put her in feare, and threatned her to put her children to shameful! death. With these threates, Cleopatra for feare yeelded straight, as she would haue yeelded vnto strokes : & afterwards sufTred her selfe to be cured and dieted as they listed. Shortly after, Casar came himself in person to see her, & to cOfort her. Cleopatra being layed vpon a litle low bed in poore estate, when she saw Casar come into her chamber, she sodainly rose vp, naked in her smocke, and fell downe at his feete maruellously disfigured : both for that she had plucked her haire from her head, as also for that she had martired all her face with her nayles, and besides, her voyce was small and trembling, her eyes sunke into her head with con> tinuall blubbering and moreouer, they might see the most part of her stomake tome in sunder. To be short, her body was not much better then her minde : yet her good grace and comelynesse, and the force of her beautie was not altogether defaced. But notwithstanding this ougly and pitifull state of hers, yet she shewed herselfe within, by her outward lookes and countenance. When Casar had made her lye downe againe, and sate by her beds side : Cleopatra began to cleare and excuse her selfe for that she had done, laying all to the feare she had of Antonius : Casar ^ in contrary manner, reproued her in euery point. Then she sodainly altered her speach, and prayed him to pardon her, as though she were affrayed to dye, and desirous to Hue. At length, she gaue him a briefe and memoriall of all the ready money and treasure she had. But by chaunce there stood Seleucus by, one of her Treasurers, who to seeme a good seruant, came straight to Casar to disproue CUo- patra, that she had not set in all, but kept many things backe of purpose. Cleopatra was in such a rage with him, that she flew vpon him, & tooke him by the haire of the head, and boxed him welfauouredly. Casar fell a laughing, and parted the fray. Alas, sayd she, O Casar: is not this a great shame and reproche, that thou hauing vouchsaued to take the paines to come vnto me, and hast done me this hon-
4o8 APPENDIX
our, poore wretch, and caitife creature, brought ioto this pitiful! and miserable estate :
and that mine owne seruants should come now to accuse me, though
V, ii, i68. it may be I haue reserued some iewels and trifles meete for women,
but not for me (p>oore soule) to set out my selfe withall, but mean-
V, ii, aoo. ing to giue some pretie presents and giftes vnto Octauia and Lima^
that they making meanes & intercession for me to thee, thou mightest
yet extend thy fauour and mercy vpon me ? Casar was glad to heare her say so, per*
swading him selfe thereby that she had yet a desire to saue her life. So he made
her aunswere, that he did not onely giue her that to dispose of at her pleasure, which
she had kept backe, but further promised to vse her more honorably and bountifully
than she would thinke for : and so he tooke his leaue of her, supposing he had
deceiued her, but indeede he was deceiued himselfe. There was
.^ .. a young gentleman Cornelius Dolabella^ that was one of Casars very
great familiars, & besides did beare no euill wil vnto Cleopatra. He
sent her word secretly as she had requested him, that O^ar determined
to take his iomey through Syria, & that within three dales he would send her away
before with her children. When this was told Cleopatra^ she requested Casar that
it would please him to suffer her to offer the last oblations of the dead, vnto the soule
of Antonius, This being graunted her, she was caried to the place where his tomhe
was, and there falling downe on her knees, imbracing the tombe with her women,
* the teares running down her cheekes, she began to speake in this sort : O my deare '
* Lord Antonius^ not long sithence I buried thee here, being a free woman : and now
* I offer vnto thee the funerall sprinklings and oblations, being a capytiue and prisoner,
* and yet I am forbidden and kept from tearing & murthering this captiue body of mine
* with blowes, which they carefully gard and keepe, only to triumphe of thee : look
* therefore henceforth for no other honours, offerings, nor sacrifices from me, for these ' are the last which Cleopatra can giue thee, sith now they carie her away. Whilest ' we lined together, nothing could seuer our companies : but now at our death, I feaure
* me they will make vs chaunge our countryes. For as thou being a Romaine, hast
* bene buried in Mg\yi : euen so wretched creature I, an i^YPTiAN, shall be buried ' in Italie, which shall be all the good that I haue receiued by thy coimtry. If there-
* fore the gods where thou art now haue any power & authoritie, sith our gods here ' haue forsake vs : suffer not thy true friend and louer to be caried away aliue, that in ' me, they triumphe of thee : but receiue me with thee, and let me be buried in one ' selfe tombe with thee. For though my griefes and miseries be infinite, yet none hath
* grieued me more, nor that I could lesse beare withall : then this small time, which
* I haue bene driue to Hue alone without thee. Then hauing ended these dolelull plaints, and crowned the tombe with garlands and sundry nosegayes, and maruellous louingly imbraced the same : she commaunded they should prepare her bath, and when she had bathed and washed her selfe, she fell to her meate, and was sumptn- ously serued. Now whilest she was at dinner, there came a countryman, and brought her a basket. The souldiers that warded at the gates, asked straight what he had in his basket. He opened the basket, and tooke out the leaues that couered the figges, and shewed them that they were figges he brought. They all of them maruelled to see so goodly figges. The countryman laughed to heare them, and bad them take some if they would. They beleeued he told them truely, and so bad him carie them in. After Cleopatra had dined, she sent a certaine table written and sealed vnto Casar^ and commaunded them all to go out of the tombes where she was, but the two women, then she shut the doores to her. Casar when he receiued this table,
DRYDEN—ALL FOR LOVE
409
and began to read her lametation and petition, requesting him that he would let her be buried with Antonius^ found straight what she meant, and thought to haue gone thither himselfe : howbeit he sent one before in all hast that might be, to see what it was. Her death was very sodaine. For those whom Casar sent vnto her ran thither in all hast possible, & found the souldiers standing at the gate, mistrusting noth- ing, nor vnderstanding of her death. But when they had opened the doores, they found Cleopatra starke dead, layed vpon a bed of gold, attired & arayed in her roy- all robes, and one of her two women, which was called Iras^ dead at her feete : and her other woman called Charmion halfe dead, and trembling, trim- ming the Diademe which Cleopatra ware vpon her head. One of the souldiers seeing her, angrily sayd vnto her : is that well done ' ^ ^'^' Charmion / Very well sayd she againe, and meete for a Princesse discended from the race of so many noble kings. She sayd no more, but fell downe dead hard by the bed. Some report that this Aspicke was brought vnto her in the basket with figs, & that she had commaunded them to hide it vnder the figge leaues, that when she should thinke to take out the figges, the Aspicke should bite her before she should see her : howbeit, that when she would haue taken away the leaues for the figges, she perceiued it, and sayd, art thou here then ? And so, her arme being naked, she put it to the Aspicke to be bitten. Other say againe, she kept it in a boxe, and that she did pricke and thrust it with a spindle of gold, so that the Aspicke being angerd withall, lept out with great furie, and bit her in the arme. Howbeit few can tell the troth. For they report also, that she had hidden poyson in a hollow raser which she caried in the haire of her head : and yet was there no marke seene of her body, or any signe discerned that she was poysoned, neither also did they finde this serpent in her tombe. But it was reported onely, that there were seene certaine fresh steppes or trackes where it had gone, on the tombe side toward the sea, and specially by the doore side. Some say also, that they found two litle pretie bytings in her anne, scant to be discerned : the which it seemeth Otsar him- selfe gaue credit vnto, because in his triumphe he caried Cleopatraes v ii 99 image, with an Aspicke byting of her arme. And thus goeth the report of her death. Now Casar^ though he was maruellous sory v, u, 429. for the death of Cleopatra^ yet he wondred at her noble minde and courage, and therefore commaunded she should be nobly buried, and layed by Antoniui : and willed also that her two women should haue honorable buriall. Cleopatra dyed being eight and thirtie yeare old, after she had raigned two and twenty yeares, and gouemed aboue foureteen of them with Antonius, And for AntoniuSf some say that he lined three and fiftie yeares : and others say, six and fiftie.
DRYDEN
ALL FOR LOVE : I OR, The j World well Lost. | A | TRAGEDY, | As it is Adled at the I Theatre- Royal \ \ And Written in Imitation o( Shakespeare' s Stile. | By John Dry den. Servant to His Majesty.
Facile est verbum aliquod ardens (ut ita dicam) nctare : idque restinctis
animorum incendiis irridere. Cicero.
In the Savoy : | Printed by Tho. Newcomb, for Henry Herringman^ at the Blew An- I chor in the Lower Walk of the New-Exchange, 1678,
^lO APPENDIX
PREFACE.
The death of Anthony and Cleopatra^ is a Subject which has been treated by the greatest Wits of our Nation , after Shakespeare ; and by all so variously, that their example has given me the confidence to try my self in this Bowe of Ulysses amongst the Crowd of Sutors ; and, withal, to take my own measures, in aiming at the Mark. I doubt not but the same Motive has prevailed with all of us in this attempt ; I mean the excellency of the Moral : for the chief persons represented, were famous patterns ^^jqI unlawful love ; and their end accordingly was unfortunate. All reasonable men have long since concluded. That the lieroe of the Poem, ought not to be a character of perfect Virtue, for, then, he could not, without injustice, be made unhappy ; nor yet altogether wicked, because he could not then be pitied : I have therefore steer'd the middle course ; and have drawn the character of Anthony as favourably as Plu- tarch, Appian, and Dion Cassius wou'd give me leave : the like I have obscnr'd in Cleopatra. That which is wanting to work up the pity to a greater heighth, was not afforded me by the story : for the crimes of love which they both committed, were not "^casion'd by any necessity, or fatal ignorance, but were wholly voluntary; since our passions are, or ought to be, within our power. The Fabrick of the Play is r^ular enough, as to the inferior parts of it ; and the Unities of Time, Place and Action, more exactly observed, than, perhaps, the English Theater requires. Particularly, the Action is so much one, that it is the only of the kind without Episode, or Under- plot ; every Scene in the Tragedy conducing to the main design, and every Act con- cluding with a turn of it. The greatest errour in the contrivance seems to be in the person of Octavia : For, though I might use the priviledge of a Poet, to introduce her into Alexandria, yet I had not enough considered, that the compassion she mov'd to her self and children, was destructive to that which I reserved for Anthony and Cleopatra ; whose mutual love being founded upon vice, must lessen the favour of the Audience to them, when Virtue and Innocence were oppressed by it. And, though I justified Anthony in some measure, by making Octavia* s departure, to pro- ceed wholly from her self ; yet the force of the first Machine still remain'd ; and the dividing of pity, like the cutting of a River into many Channels, abated the strength of the natural stream. But this is an Objection which none of my Critiques have urged against me ; and therefore I might have let it pass, if I could have resolv'd to have been partial to my self. The faults my Enemies have found, are rather cavils concerning little, and not essential Decencies ; which a Master of the Ceremonies may decide betwixt us. The French Poets, I confess, are strict Observers of these Punctilio's : They would not, for example, have suffered Cleopatra and Octavia to have met ; or if they had met, there must only have pass'd betwixt them some cold civilities, but no eagerness of repartee, for fear of offending against the greatness of their Characters, and the modesty of their Sex. This Objection I foresaw, and at the same time contemned : for I judged it both natural and probable, that Octauia, proud of her new-gain' d Conquest, would search out Cleopatra to triumph over her ; and that Cleopatra, thus attacqu'd, was not of a spirit to shun the encounter : and 'tis not unlikely, that two exasperated Rivals should use such Satyre as I have put into their mouths ; for after all, though the one were a Roman, and the other a Queen, they were both Women. . . .
In my Stile I have profess' d to imitate the Divine Shakespeare ; which that I might perform more freely, I have disincumber'd my self from Rhjrme. Not that I condemn my former way, but that this is more proper to my present purpose. I hope
DRYDEN—ALL FOR LOVE
411
I need not to explain myself, that I have not Copy'd my Author servilely : Words and Phrases must of necessity receive a change in succeeding Ages : but 'tis almost a Miracle that much of his Language remains so pure ; and that he who began Dra- matique Poetry amongst us, untaught by any, and, as Ben Johnson tells us, without Learning, should by the force of his own Genius perform so much, that in a manner he has left no praise for any who come after him. The occasion is fair, and the sub- ject would be pleasant to handle the difference of Stiles betwixt him and Fletcher^ and wherein, and how far they are both to be imitated. But since I must not be over-confident of my own performance after him, it will be prudence in me to be silent Yet I hope I may affirm, and without vanity, that by imitating him, I have excell'd my self throughout the Play; and particularly, that I prefer the Scene betwixt Anthony and Ventidius in the first Act, to any thing which I have written in this kind.
Prologue.
What Flocks of Critiques hover here to day.
As Vultures wait on Armies for their Prey,
All gaping for the Carcass of a Play !
V^th Croaking Notes they bode some dire event ;
And follow dying Poets by the scent.
Ours gives himself for gone ; y'have watch'd your time !
He fights this day unarm'd ; without his Rhyme.
And brings a Tale which often has been told ;
As sad as Dido's ; and almost as old.
His Heroe, whom you Wits his Bully call.
Bates of his mettle ; and scarce rants at all ;
He's somewhat lewd ; but a well-meaning mind ;
Weeps much ; fights little \ but is wond'rous kind.
In short, a Pattern, and Companion fit.
For all the keeping iTonyes of the Pit
I cou'd name more ; a Wife and Mistress too ;
Both (to be plain) too good for most of you :
The Wife well-natur*d, and the Mistress true. Now, Poets, if your fame has been his care ;
Allow him all the candour you can spare.
A brave Man scorns to quarrel once a day ;
Like Hectors, in at every petty fray.
Let those find fault whose Wit's so very small.
They've need to show that they can think at all : / Errours like Straws upon the surface flow ; V He who would search for Pearls must dive below.
Fops may have leave to level all they can ;
As Pigmies wou'd be glad to lopp a Man.
Half' Wits are Fleas ; so little and so light ;
We scarce cou'd know they live, but that they bite.
But, as the Rich, when tir'd with daily Feasts,
For change, become their next poor Tenants Chests ;
Drink hearty Draughts of Ale, from plain brown Bowls,
And snatch the homely Rasher from the Coals :
}
1
412
APPENDIX
So you, retiring from much better Cheer, For once, may venture to do penance here. And since that plenteous Autu^m now is past. Whose Grapes and Peaches have Indulged your taste. Take in good part from our poor Poets boord, Such rivell'd Fruits as Winter can afford.
Persons Represented,
By
Marc Anthony^ Mr. Hart,
VentidiuSf his General, Mr. Mokun,
Dollabella, his Friend, Mr. Clarke.
AUxaSy the Queen's Eunuch, Mr. Goodman,
Serapion, Priest of /rw, Mr. Griffin.
Another Priest, Mr. Coysk.
Servants to Anthony.
Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, Mrs. Boutell,
Octavia^ Anthony's Wife, Mrs, Corey.
Charmicn, \
J f Cleopatra* s Maids.
Anthony's two little Daughters.
Scene Alexandria.
Act. I. Scene, 731^ Temple of Isis.
Enter Serapion, Myris, Priests of Isis. Strap. Portents, and Prodigies, are grown so frequent. That they have lost their Name. Our fruitful Nile Flow'd ere the wonted Season, with a Torrent So unexpected, and so wondrous fierce. That the wild Deluge overtook the haste Ev'n of the Hinds that watch' d it : Men and Beasts Were bom above the tops of Trees, that grew On th' utmost Margin of the Water-mark. Then, with so swift an Ebb, the Floud drove backward It slipt from underneath the Scaly Herd : Here monstrous Phoca panted on the Shore ; Forsaken Dolphins there, with their broad tails. Lay lashing the departing Waves : Hard by 'em, Sea- Horses fioundring in the slimy mud, Toss'd up their heads, and dash'd the ooze about 'em.
Enter Alezas behind them.
Myr. Avert these Qmens, Heav'n. •
Strap. Last night, between the hours of Twelve and One, In a lone Isle o'th' Temple while I walk'd, A Whirl-wind rose, that, with a violent blast. Shook all the Dome : the Doors around me dapt. The Iron Wicket, that defends the Vault, Where the long Race of Ptolomies is lay*d.
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT I 413
Burst open, and disclosed the mighty dead. From out each Monument, in order plac'd. An Armed Ghost start up : the Boy-King last Reared his inglorious head. A peal of groans Then follow' d, and a lamentable voice Cry'd jEgypt is no more. My blood ran back, My shaking knees against each other knocked ; On the cold pavement down I fell intranc'd ; And so unfinish'd left the horrid Scene.
Alexas (skaunng himself.) And, Dream'd you this ? or, Did invent the Story ? To frighten our ^Egyptian Boys withal, And train 'em up betimes in fear of Priesthood ?
Serap. My Lord, I saw you not. Nor meant my words should reach jrour ears ; but what I uttered was most true.
AUx, A foolish Dream, Bred from the fumes of indigested Feasts, And holy Luxury.
Serap. I know my duty : This goes no farther.
AUx. 'Tis not fit it should. Nor would the times now bear it, were it true. All Southern, from yon hills, the Roman Camp Hangs o'er us black and threatning, like a Storm Just breaking on our heads.
Serap. Our faint ^Egyptians pray for Antony ; But in their Servile hearts they own Octavius, j Afyr. Why then does Antony dream out his hours. And tempts not Fortune for a noble Day, ^
, iVhich might redeem, what AcHum lost ?
Aiex. He thinks 'tis past recovery, v^
Serap. Yet the Foe Seems not to press the Siege.
Alex. O, there's the wonder. I Mecanas and Agrippa^ who can most ' With Casar, are his Foes. His Wife Octavia, Driv'n from his House, solicits her revenge ; And Dolabella, who was once his Friend, Upon some private grudge, now seeks his mine : Yet still War seems on either side to sleep.
Serap, 'Tis strange that Antony ^ for some days past. Has not beheld the face of Cleopatra ; But here, in Isis Temple, lives retir*d. And makes his heart a prey to black despair.
Alex. 'Tis true ; and we much fear he hopes by absence To cure his mind of Love.
Serap. If he be vanquish' d. Or make his peace, ^Egypt is doom'd to be A Roman Province ; and our plenteous Harvests
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Must then redeem the scarceness of their Soil. While Antony stood firm, our Alexandria Rivaled proud Rome (Dominions other Seat) And Fortune striding, like a vast Colossus, Cou'd fix an equal foot of Empire here.
Alex. Had I my wish,, these Tyrants of all Nature Who Lord it o'er Mankind, should perish, perish, Each by the others Sword ; but, since our will Is lamely folIowM by our pow'r, we must Depend on one ; with him to rise or fall.
Serap. How stands the Queen affected ?
Alex, O, she dotes. She dotes, Serapion, on this vanquished Man, And winds her self about his mighty ruins. Whom would she yet forsake, yet yield him up. This hunted prey, to his pursuers hands,
She might preserve us all ; but *tis in vain
This changes my designs, this blasts my Counsels, And makes me use all means to keep him here. Whom I could wish divided from her Arms Far as the Earth's deep Center. Well, you know The state of things ; no more of your ill Omens, And black Prognosticks ; labour to confirm The peoples hearts.
Enter Ventidius, talking aside with a Gentleman of Antony's^
Strap, These Romans will o' rehear us. But, Who's that Stranger? By his Warlike port. His fierce demeanor, and erected look, He's of no vulgar note.
Alex, O, 'tis Ventidius, Our Emp'rors great Lieutenant in the East, Who first show'd Rome that Parthia could be conquer'd. When Antony retum'd from Syria last. He left this Man to guard the Roman Frontiers.
Serap, You seem to know him well.
Alex, Too well. I saw him in Cilicia first. When Cleopatra there met Antony : A mortal he was to us, and j^gypt. But, let me witness to the worth I hate, A braver Roman never drew a Sword. Firm to his Prince ; but, as a friend, not slave. He ne'r was of his pleasures ; but presides O're all his cooler hours and morning counsels : In short, the plainness, fierceness, rugged virtue Of an old true-stampt Roman lives in him. His coming bodes I know not what of ill To our affairs. Withdraw, to mark him better ; And I'll acquaint. you why I sought you here.
DRYDEN-^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT I 415
They withdraw to a comer of the Stage; aif</ Ventidius, with the other f comes for- . wards to the front.
■^ -r
And what's our present work.
Ventidius. Not see him, say yon ? I say, I must, and will.
Gent. He has commanded, On pain of death, none should approach his presence.
Ven, I bring him news will raise his drooping Spirits, Give him new life.
Gent. He sees not Cleopatra.
Ven. Would he had never seen her.
Gent. He eats not, drinks not, sleeps not, has no use Of any thing, but thoc^ht ; or, if he talks, 'Tis to himself, and then 'tis perfect raving : Then he defies the World, and bids it pass ; Sometimes he gnawes his Lip, and Curses loud The Boy Octavius : then he draws his mouth Into a scornful smile, and cries. Take all, i^Thc World's not worth my care.
Ven. Just, just his nature. Virtues his path ; but sometimes 'tis too narrow ; For his vast Soul ; and then he starts out wide, i And bounds into a Vice that bears him far ; Ytojn. his 6rst course, and plunges him in ills : ' ' But, when his danger makes him Bnd his fault, , ' Quick to observe, and full of sharp remorse, V, He censures eagerly his own misdeeds. Judging himself with malice to himself, < And not forgiving what as Man he did.
Because his other parts are more than Man. I He must not thus be lost. [ Alexas and the Priests come forward,
Alex. You have your full Instructions, now advance ; Proclaim your Orders loudly.
Scrap. Romans^ ^Egyptians, hear the Queen's G)mmand. Thus Cleopatra bids. Let Labor cease. To Pomp and Triumphs give this happy day. That gave the World a Lord : 'tis Antonys. Live, Antony ; and Cleopatra live. Be this the general voice sent up to Heav'n. And every publick place repeat this eccho.
Ven. aside. Fine Pageantry I
Scrap. Set out before your doors The Images of all your sleeping Fathers, With Laurels crown' d; with Laurels wreath your posts, And strow with Flow'rs the Pavement ; Let the Priests Do present Sacrifice ; pour out the Wine, And call the Gods to joyn with you in gladness.
Ven. Curse on the tongue that bids this general joy. Can they be friends of Antony, who Revel When Antony^ in danger? Hide, for shame, Vou Romans, your Great grandsires Images,
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4i6 APPENDIX
For fear their Soals should animate their Marbles, To blush at their degenerate Progeny.
AUx, A love which knows no bounds to Antony, Would mark the Day with honors ; when all Heaven Labored for him, when each propitious Star Stood wakeful in his Orb, to watch that hour. And shed his better infloence. Her own Biith-day Our Queen neglected, like a vulgar Fate,* That passed obscurdy by.
Ven, Would it had slept. Divided £ar firom his ; till some remote And future Age had call'd it out, to ruin Some other Prince, not him.
AUx. Your Emperor, Tho grown unkind, would be more gentle, than T*upbraid my Queen, for loving him too well.
Ven, Does the mute Sacrifice upbraid the Priest ? He knows him not his Executioner. O, she has decked his ruin with her love. Led him in golden bands lo gaady slaughter. And made perditioo pleasing : She has left him The blank of what he was ; I tell thee, Ennnch, she has quite nnmann'd him : Can any Roman see, and know him now. Thus alter'd 6om the Lord of half Mankind, Unbent* unsinew*d, made a Womans Toy, Shrunk from the vast extent of all his booors. And ciampt within a comer of the World ? O, Amtmty !
Thou Uafe&t Soldier, and thou best of Frieuis ! Boonteoos as Nature ; next to Nature's God ! Could* st thou bat make new Worlds, so vrooldst thou give *em As bounty were thy being. Rough in Battel, As the first Komatu^ when they went to Wju^ ; Yet, after Yictory, mote pitilul« Than all their Praying Vngins left at booK !
AUx. Would you could add to those more shining Mrtnes. His truth to her vrho lof«s him.
fm. WouU I could Dot. But, Whcreibre waste I pcccsms boors with thee ? Thou ait her darling mischieC her chief Engin, Amijmy^^ other Fate. Go« tell thy Qoecs. IHkiLanix is arrived, to cod her Charms^ Let your ^-E^yptiim TimbceLs play alooe ; Nor mix Etfrmiwitr Sounds with ^^tmarn Trzmpets. YoQ dare aoC fight fcr Amrjmr .- go Play. And keep your Cowaids-HoIy-day in Temples. lExemmt Aler. So>^
* If thU he tite pbMMCic speHing cf /^. it is a br earlier exaamle dua tff given ia the .V. f . P.—Eix
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT I 417
Re-enter the Gentleman of M. Antony.
2. Gent, The Emperor approaches, and commands, On pain of Death, that none presume to stay.
I. Gent. I dare not disobey him. [Going tmt with the other »
Vent. Well, I dare. But, I'll observe him first unseen, and find Which way his humour drives : The rest I'll venture. [ Withdraws,
Enter Antony, walking with a disturbed Motum,
before he speaks,
Antony. They tell me, 'tis my Birth-day, and I'll keep it With double pomp of sadness. 'Tis what the day deserves, which gave me breath. Why was I rais'd the Meteor of the World, Hung in the Skies, and blazing as I traveled. Till all my fires were spent ; and then cast downward To be trod out by Casar f
Ven, aside. On my Soul, 'Tis mournful, wondrous moumfiil I
Anto. Count thy gains. .
Now, Antony^ Would'st thou be bom for this ?| Glutton of Fortune, thy devouring youth I
Has starved thy wanting Age.
Ven. How sorrow shakes him I \Asidi,
So, now the Tempest tears him up by th' Roots, And on the ground extends the noble ruin.
Ant. having thrown himself down, * "Lye there, thou shadow of an Emperor ; The place thou pressest on thy. Mother Earth Is all thy Empire now : now it contains thee; Some few days hence, and then twill be too large, When thou'rt contracted in thy narrow Urn, Shrunk to a few cold Ashes ; then Octatna^ (For Cleopatra will not live to see it) Octavia then will have thee all her own, And bear thee in her Widow' d hand to Casar; Casar will weep ; the Crocodile will weep, To see his Rival of the Universe Lye still and peaceful there. I'll think no more on't Give me some Musick ;"look that it be sad : I'll sooth my Melancholy, till I swell.
And burst my self with sighing [^ft Musick,
'Tis somewhat to my humour. Stay, I fancy I'm now tum'd wild, a Commoner of Nature ; Of all forsaken, and forsaking all ; Live in a shady Forrest's Sylvan Scene, Stretch'd at my length beneath some blasted Oke ;
* The following twelve lines are spoken, I think, by Antony^ not Ventidim. — Eix
37
41 8 APPENDIX
I lean my head upon the Mossy Bark, And look just of a piece, as I grew from it : My uncomb'd Locks, matted like Misleto^ Hang o're my hoary Face ; a murm'ring Brook Runs at my foot
Ven. Methinks I fancy My self there too.
Ant, The Herd come jumping by me. And fearless, quench their thirst, while I look on. And take me for their fellow-Citizen.* More of this Image, more ; it lulls my thoughts. \.^ft Mustek again,
Ven. I must disturb him ; I can hold no longer [Stamls before Aim.
Ant. starting up. Art thou Ventidius ?
Ven, Are you Antony f I'm liker what I was, than you to him I left you last.
Ant. I'm angry.
Vent. So am I.
Ant. I would be private : Leave me.
Ven. Sir, I love you, And therefore will not leave you.
Ant, Will not leave me ? Where have you learnt that Answer ? Who am I ?
Ven. My Emperor ; the Man I love next Heaven: If I said more, I think 'twere scarce a Sin ; Y'are all that's good, and good-like.
Ant. All that's wretched. You will not leave me then ?
Ven. 'Twas too presuming To say I would not ; but I dare not leave you : And, 'tis unkind in you to chide me hence So soon, when I so far have come to see you.
Ant. Now thou hast seen me, art thou satisfy'd ? For, if a Friend, thou hast beheld enough ; And, if a Foe, too much.
Ven. [weeping."] Look, Emperor, this b no conimon Deaw, I have not wept this Forty year ; but now My Mother comes afresh into my eyes ; I cannot help her softness.
Ant. By Heav'n, he weeps, poor good old Man, he weeps ! The big round drops course one another down The furrows of his cheeks. Stop 'em, Ventidius, Or I shall blush to death : they set my shame. That caus'd *em, full before me.
Ven. I'll do my best.
Ant. Sure there's contagion in the tears of Friends : See, I have caught it too. Believe me, 'tis not
For my own griefs, but thine Nay, Father.
* See As You Like It, II, i, 34, et seq. — Ed.
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT I 419
Vtn, Emperor.
Ant, Emperor I Why, that's the stile of Victory, The Conqu*ring Soldier, red with unfelt wounds, Salutes his General so : but never more Shall that sound reach my ears.
Ven. I warrant you.
Ant, Actium, AcHum! Oh —
Ven, It sits too near you.
Ant, Here, here it lies ; a lump of Lead by day, And, in my short distracted nightly slumbers. The Hag that rides my Dreams
Ven, Out with it ; give it vent
Ant, Urge not my shame. I lost a Battel.
Ven, So has Julius done.
Ant, Thou favour' St me, and speak' st not half tfaoa think' st ; For Julius fought it out, and lost it fairly : But Antony
Ven. Nay, stop not \
Ant, Antony, (Well, thou wilt have it) like a coward, fled, Fled while his Soldiers fought ; fled first, Ventidius, Thou long* St to curse me, and I give thee leave. I know thou cam'st prepared to rail.
Ven, I did.
Ant, I'll help thee — I have been a Man, Ventidius,
Ven. Yes, and a brave one ; but
Ant, I know thy meaning. , But, I have lost my Reason, have disgrac'd The name of Soldier, with inglorious ease. In the full Vintage of my flowing honors. Sate still, and saw it prest by other hands. Fortune came smiling to my youth, and woo'd it, And purple greatness met my ripen'd years. When first I came to Empire, I was bom On Tides of People, crouding to my Triumphs ; The wish of Nations ; and the willing World
Receiv'd me as its pledge of future peace ; •
: I was so great, so happy, so belov'd. Fate could not ruine me ; till I took pains And work'd against my Fortune, chid her from me. And tum'd her loose ; yet still she came again. My careless dayes, and my luxurious nights, At length have wear/d her, and now she's gone. Gone, gone, divorc'd for ever. Help me, Soldier, To curse this Mad-man, this industrious Fool, Who labour* d to be wretched : Ft'ythee curse me.
Ven. No.
Ant. Why?
f./
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Ven. Yon are too sensible already Of what y'have done, too conscious of your failings. And like a Scorpion, whipt by others first 1*0 fury, sting your self in mad revenge. I would bring Balm, and pour it in your wounds, Cure your distempered mind, and heal your fortunes.
Ant, I know thou would' St.
Ven, I wiU.
Ant. Ha, ha, ha, ha.
Ven, You laugh.
Ant, I do, to see officious love Give Cordials to the dead.
Vtn, You would be lost then ?
Ant, I am.
Ven, I say, you are not Try your fortune.
Ant, I have, to th* utmost • Dost thou think me desperatet Without just cause ? No, when I found all lost Beyond repair, I hid me from the World, And learnt to scorn it here ; which now I do So heartily, I think it is not worth The cost of keeping.
Ven, Casar thinks not so : He*l thank you for the gift he could not take. You would be kill'd, like Tuliy, would you ? do. Hold out your Throat to Qesar, and dye tamely.
Ant. No, I can kill my self ; and so resolve.
Ven, I can dy with you too, when time shall serve; But Fortune calls upon us now to live, To fight, to Conquer.
Ant. Sure thou Dream* st, Ventidius,
Ven. No ; 'tis you Dream ; you sleep away your houia In desperate sloth, miscall'd Phylosophy, I Up, up, for Honor* s sake ; twelve Legions wait you. And long to call you Chief: by painful journeys, I led 'em, patient, both of heat and hunger, Down from the Parthian Marches, to the NiU, 'Twill do you good to see their Sun-burnt faces. Their skared cheeks, and chopt hands ; there's virtue in 'em, They'l sell those mangled limbs at dearer rates Than yon trim Bands can buy.
Ant, Where left you them ?
Ven. I said, in lower Syria,
Ant. Bring 'em hither; There may be life in these.
Ven, They will not come.
Ant. Why did'st thou mock my hopes with promis'd aids To double my despair ? They'r mutinous.
Ven. Most firm and loyal.
Ant. Yet they will not march
DRYDEN—ALL FOR LOVE, ACT I 421
To succor me. Oh trifler !
Ven. They petition You would make hast to head 'em.
Ant, I'm besieg'd.
Ven. There's but one way shut up : How came I hither?
Ant, I will not stir.
Ven, They would perhaps desire A better reason.
Ant. I have never us'd My Soldiers to demand a reason of My actions. Why did they refuse to March ?
Ven, They said they would not fight for Cleifpatra,
Ant, What was't they said ?
Ven, They said, they would not fight for Cleopatra Why should they fight indeed, to make her Conquer, And make you more a Slave ? to gain you Kingdoms, Which, for a kiss, at your next midnight Feast, You'l sell to her? then she new names her Jewels, And calls this Diamond such or such a Tax, Each Pendant in her ear shall be a Province.
Ant, VentidiuSf I allow your Tongue free licence On all my other faults; but, on your life, No word of Cleopatra : She deserves More World's than I can lose.
Ven, Behold, you Powers, To whom you have intrusted Humankind ; See Europe, AfrUk, Asia put in ballance. And all weigh'd down by one light worthless Woman I I think the gods are Antony %, and give Like Prodigals, this neather World away, To none but wastful hands.
Ant, You grow presumptuous.
Ven, I take the priviledge of plain love to speak.
Ant, Plain love I plain arrogance, plain insolence : Thy Men are Cowards ; thou, an envious Traitor ; Who, under seeming honesty, hast vented The burden of thy rank o'reflowing Gall.
0 that thou wert my equal ; great in Arms As the first Orsar was, that I might kill thee Without a Stain to Honor !
Ven, You may kill me ; You have done more already, call'd me Traitor.
Ant, Art thou not one ?
Ven, For showing you your self. Which none else durst have done ; but had I been That name, which I disdain to speak again,
1 needed not have sought your abject fortunes. Come to partake your fate, to dye with you, What hindred me t'have led my Conqu'ring Eagles
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APPENDIX
To fill Octavius's Bands? I could have been A Traitor then, a glorious happy Traitor, And not have been so call'd.
Ant, Forgive me, Soldier : I've been too passionate.
Ven. You thought me false ; Thought my old age betray* d you : kill me, Sir; Pray kill me ; yet you need not, your unkindness Has left your Sword no work.
Ant, I did not think so ; I said it in my rage : pT'3rthee forgive me : Why did' St thou tempt my anger, by discovery Of what I would not hear ?
Ven, No Prince but you Could merit that sincerity I usM, Nor durst another Man have ventured it ; But you, ere Love misled your wandring eyes. Were sure the chief and best of Human Race, Fram'd in the very pride and boast of Nature, So perfect, that the gods who form'd you wonder* d At their own skill, and cry'd, A lucky hit Has mended our design. Their envy hindred. Else you had been immortal, and a pattern, When Heav'n would work for ostentation sake. To copy out again.
Ant, But CUopatra
Go on ; for I can bear it now.
Ven, . No more.
Ant, I Thou dar'st not trust my Passion ; but thou may'st : Thou only lov'st ; the rest have flatter* d me.
Ven, Heav'n* s blessing on your heart, for that kind word. May I believe you love me ? speak again.
Ant, Indeed I do. Speak this, and this, and this. [,^^f'^SP'^^
Thy praises were unjust; but, I'll deserve *em, I And jtt mend all. Do with me what thou wilt ; Lead me to victory, thou know'st the way.
Ven, And, Will you leave this
Ant. IVythee do not curse her, I And I will leave her ; though, Heav'n knows^ I love ' Beyond Life, Conquest, Empire ; all, but Honor : But I will leave her.
Ven, That's my Royal Master. And, Shall we fight?
Ant, I warrant thee, old Soldier, Thou shalt behold me once again in Icon, And at the head of our old Troops, that beat The PartAians, cry aloud. Come follow me.
Ven, O now I hear my Emperor I in that word Oetavim feVL Gods, let me see that day,
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT II 423
And, if I have ten years behind, take all ; 1*11 thank you for th'exchange.
Ani, Oh CUopatra !
Ven, Again ?
Ant. I've done : in that last sigh, she went. Cctsar shall know what 'tis to force a Lover From all he holds most dear.
Ven, Methinks you breath Another Soul : Your looks are more Divine ; You speak a Heroe, and you move a God.
Ant, O, thou hast fir'd me ; my SouPs up in Arms, And Mans each part about me : once again. That noble eagerness of 6ght has seized me ; That eagerness, with which I darted upward To Cassius^s Camp : In vain the steepy Hill, Oppos'd my way; in vain a War of Speares Sung round my head ; and planted all my shield : I won the Trenches, while my formost Men Lag'd on the Plain below.
Vtn. Ye Gods, ye Gods, For such another hour.
Ant, Come on, My Soldier ! Our hearts and arms are still the same : I long Once more to meet our foes ; that Thou and I, Like Time and Death, marching before our Troops, May taste fate to 'em ; Mowe 'em out a passage, And, entring where the foremost Squadrons yield. Begin the noble Harvest of the Field. [Exeumi,
\
Act. II.
Cleopatra, Iras, and Alexas,
Cleo, What shall I do, or whither shall I turn ? Ventidius has o'rcome, and he will go.
Alex. He goes to fight for you.
Cleo. Then he wou'd see me, ere he went to fight : Flatter me not : if once he goes, he's lost : And all my hopes destroy' d.
Alex, Does this weak passion Become a Mighty Queen ?
Cleo. I am no Queen ; Is this to be a Queen, to be besieg'd By yon insulting Roman ; and to wait Each hour the Victor's Chain ? These ills are small ; For Antony is lost, and I can mourn For nothing else but him. Now come, Octavius, I have no more to lose ; prepare thy Bands ; I'm fit to be a Captive : Antony Has taught my mind the fortune of a Slave. ) Iras. Call Reason to assist you.
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APPENDIX
Cleo. I have none. And none would have : my Love's a noble madness, Which shows the cause deserved it Moderate sorrow Fits vulgar Love ; and for a vulgar Man : But I have lov'd with such transcendent passion, I soard, at first, quite out of Reasons view,
And now am lost above it No, I'm proud
'Tis thus : would Antony could see me now ;
Think you he would not sigh ? though he must leave me.
Sure he would sigh ; for he is noble-natur'd,
And bears a tender heart : I know him well.
Ah, no, I know him not ; I knew him once.
But now 'tis past.
Iras, Let it be past with 3rou : Forget him. Madam,
Cleo, Never, never, Iras, He once was mine; and once, though now 'tis gone. Leaves a faint Image of possession still.
Alex. Think him unconstant, cruel, and ungrateful.
Cleo, I cannot : if I could, those thoughts were vain ; Faithless, ungrateful, cruel, though he be,
I still must love him. Enter Channioa.
Now, What news my Charmion ? Will he be kind ? and. Will he not forsake me ? Am I to live, or dye ? nay. Do I live ? Or am I dead ? for, when he gave his answer. Fate took the word, and then I liv'd, or dy'd.
Char, I found him, Madam
Cleo, A long Speech preparing ? If thou bring* st comfort, hast[e], and give it me ; For never was more need.
Iras, I know he loves you.
Cleo, Had he been kind, her eyes had told me so, Before her tongue could speak it : now she studies, .To soften what he said ; but give me death. Just as he sent it, Charmion^ undisguis'd, I And in the words he spoke.
Char, I found him then Incompass'd round, I think, with Iron Statues, So mute, so motionless his Soldiers stood. While awfully he cast his eyes about. And ev'ry Leaders hopes or fears survey* d : Methought he look'd resolv'd, and yet not pleas' d. When he beheld me strugling in the croud. He blush' d, and bade, make way.
Alex, There's comfort yet.
Char, Ventidius fixt his eyes upon my passage. Severely, as he meant to frown roe back, And sullenly gave place : I told my message,
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT II 425
Just as you gave it, broken and disordered ;
I numbred in it all your sighs and tears,
And while I mov'd your pitiful request.
That you but only beg^d a last farewel,
He fetch' d an inward groan, and ev'ry time
I nam*d 3rou, sigh*d, as if his heart were breaking.
But shun'd my eyes, and guiltily look'd down ;
He seem'd not now that awful Antony
Who shook an Arm'd Assembly with his Nod,
But making show as he would rub his eyes,
Disguis*d and blotted out a falling tear.
Cleop. Did he then weep ? and, Was I worth a tear ? If what thou hast to say be not as pleasing, Tell me no more, but let me dye contented.
Char, He bid me say, He knew himself so well. He could deny you nothing, if he saw you ; And therefore
CUop, Thou would' St say, he wou'd not see me ?
Charm, And therefore beg*d you not to use a power, Which he could ill resist ; yet he should ever Respect you as he ought
CUo, Is that a word For Antony to use to CUopatra f Oh that faint word, Respect ! how I disdain it I Disdain my self, for loving after it ! He should have kept that word for cold Octavia. Respect is for a Wife : Am I that thing, That dull insipid lump, without desires. And without pow'r to give 'em ?
Alex, You misjudge; You see through Love, and that deludes your sight : As, what is strait^ seems crooked through the Water ; But I, who bear my reason undisturbM, Can see this Antony^ this dreaded Man, A fearful slave, who fain would run away, And shuns his Master's eyes: if you pursue him, My life on't, he still drags a chain along. That needs must clog his flight.
Cleo, Could I believe thee I
Alex, By ev'ry circumstance I know he Loves. True, he's hard prest, by Intrest and by Honor ; Yet he but doubts, and parlyes, and casts out Many a long look for succor.
Cleo, He sends word He fears to see my face.
Alex. And would you more? He shows his weakness who declines the Combat ; And you must urge your fortune. Could he speak More plainly ? To my ears, the Message sounds
426 APPENDIX
Come to my rescue, Cleopatra^ come ; Come, free me from Ventidius ; from my Tyrant : See me, and give me a pretence to leave him. I hear his Trumpets. This way he must pass. Please you, retire a while; I'll work him first, That he may bend more easie.
Cleo. You shall rule me ; But all, I fear, in vain. [Exit with Char. a$ut Iras.
AUx, I fear so too ; Though I conceal' d my thoughts, to make her bold : But, 'tis our utmost means, and Fate befriend it [ Withdraws.
Enter Lictors with Fasces : one bearing the Eagle : then Enter Antony with Ventidius, folUndd by other Commanders.
Ant, Oetavius is the Minion of blind Chance, But holds from Virtue nothing.
Ven. Has he courage ?
Ant. But just enough to season him from Coward. O, 'tis the coldest youth upon a Charge, The most deliberate fighter ! if he ventures (As in Ilfyria once they say he did To storm a Town) 'tis when he cannot chuse. When all the World have fixt their eyes upon him; And then he lives on that for seven years after. But, at a close revenge he never (ails.
Ven. I heard, you challang'd him.
Ant. I did, Ventidius.
What think' St thou was his answer? 'twas so tame,
He said he had more wayes than one to dye ; * I had not
Ven. Poor !
Ant. He has more wayes than one ; But he would chuse 'em all before that one.
Ven. He first would chuse an Ague, or a Fever :
Ant. No : it must be an Ague, not a Fever; He has not warmth enough to dye by that
Ven. Or old Age, and a Bed.
Ant, I, there's his choice. He would live, like a Lamp, to the last wink. And crawl upon the utmost verge of life : O Hercutes I Why should a Man like this, Who dares not trust his fate for one great action, Be all the care of Heav'n? Why should he Lord it O're Fourscore thousand Men, of whom, each one Is braver than himself?
Ven. You conquer'd for him : Philippi knows it ; there you shar'd with him That Empire, which your Sword made all your own.
* See Anthony and Cleopatra^ IV, i, 7.
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT II 427
Ant. Fool that I was, upon my Eagles Wings , ^
I bore this Wren, till I was tir'd with soaring, .
And now he mounts above me. j •
Good Heavens, Is this, is this the Man who braves me? I \ Who bids my age make way : drives me before him, / To the World's ridge, and sweeps me off like rubbish r
Ven. Sir, we lose time ; the Troops are mounted all.
Ant. Then give the word to March : I long to leave this Prison of a Town, To joyn thy Legions ; and, in op)en Field, Once more to show my face. Lead, my Deliverer. [Enter Alex.
Alex. Great Emperor, In mighty Arms renown' d above Mankind, But, in soft pity to th' opprest, a God : This message sends the mournful Cleopatra To her departing Lord.
Ven. Smooth Sycophant I
Alex. A thousand wishes, and ten thousand Prajrers, Millions of blessings wait you to the Wars, Millions of sighs and tears she sends you too. And would have sent As many dear embraces to your Arms, As many parting -kisses to your Lips ; But those, she fears, have weary'd you already.
Ven. aside. False Crocodyle !
Alex, And yet she begs not now, you would not leave her. That were a wish too mighty for her hopes. Too presuming for her low Fortune, and your ebbing love. That were a wish for her more prosperous dayes, Her blooming beauty, and your growing kindness.
Ant. aside. Well, I must Man it out; What would the Qaeen?
Alex. First, to these noble Warriors, who attend. Your daring courage in the Chase of Fame, (Too daring, and too dang'rous for her quiet) She humbly recommends all she holds dear. All her own cares and fears, the care of you.
Ven. Yes, witness Actium.
Ant, Let him speak, Ventidius.
Alex, You, when his matchless valor bears him forward. With ardor too Heroick, on his foes Fall down, as she would do, before his feet ; Lye in his way, and stop the paths of Death ; Tell him, this God is not invulnerable. That absent Cleopatra bleeds in him ; And, that you may remember her Petition, She begs you wear these Trifles, as a pawn. Which, at your wisht return, she will redeem [Gives Jewels to the
Cofntnasulers, With all the Wealth of ^gypt:
428
APPENDIX
This, to the great Ventidius^ she presents. Whom she can never count her Enemy, Because he loves her Lord.
Ven, Tell her I'll none on't ; I'm not asham'd of honest Poverty : Not all the Diamonds of the East can bribe Ventidius from his faith. I hope to see These, and the rest of all her sparkling store, Where they shall more deservingly be placed.
Ant. And who must wear 'em then ?
Ven. The wrong'd Octavia.
Ant. You might have spar'd that word.
Ven. And he that Bribe.
Ant. But have I no remembrance ?
Alex. Yes, a dear one : Your slave, the Queen
Ant. ' My Mistress.
Alex. Then your Mistress, Your Mistress would, she sayes, have sent her Soul, But that you had long since ; she humbly begs This Ruby bracelet, set with bleeding hearts, (The emblems of her own) may bind your Arme. [Presenting a Breteelet.
Ven, Now, my best Lord, in Honor's name, I ask you. For Manhood's sake, and for your own dear safety. Touch not these poyson'd gifts. Infected by the sender, touch 'em not, Miriads of blewest Plagues lye underneath 'em. And more than Aconite has dipt the Silk.
Ant. Nay, now you grow too C3mical, VentuH$ts. A Lady's favors may be worn with honor. What, to refuse her Bracelet I On my Soul, When I lye pensive in my Tent alone, 'Twill pass the wakeful hours of Winter nights. To tell these pretty Beads upon my arm, To count for every one a soil embrace, A melting kiss at such and such a time ; And now and then the fury of her love. When — And what harm's in this ?
Alex. None, none my Lord; But what's to her, that now 'tis past for ever.
Ant. going to tye it. We Soldiers are so aukward ^help me tye it.
Alex. In faith, my Lord, we Courtiers too are aukward In these affairs : so are all Men indeed ; Ev'n I, who am not one. But shall I speak ?
Ant. Yes, freely.
Alex. Then, my Lord, fair hands alone Are fit to tye it ; she, who sent it, can.
Ven. Hell, Death ; this Eunuch Pandar ruins you. You will not see her? [Alexas whispers an Attendant^ who goes miL
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT II
Ant. But to take my leave.
Ven, Then I have wash' d an y£Mu^. Y'are undone; Y'are in the Toils ; y'are taken; y'are destroy* d : Her eyes do Otsar's work.
Ant. You fear too soon. I'm constant to myself: I know my strength ; And yet she shall not think me Barbarous, neither. Bom in the depths of Africk : I'm a Roman, Bred to the Rules of soft humanity. A guest, and kindly us'd, should bid farewel.
Ven, You do not know How weak you are to her, how much an Infant ; You are not proof against a smile, or glance ; A sigh will quite disarm you.
Ant. See, she comes 1 Now you shall find your error. Gods, I thank you : I form'd the danger greater than it was, And, now 'tis near, 'tis lessen'd.
Ven. Mark the end yet
Enter Qeopatra, Charmion and Iras.
Ant. Well, Madam, we are met.
Cleo. Is this a Meeting ? Then, we must part ?
Ant. We must.
Cleo. Who sayes we must ?
Ant. Our own hard fates.
Cleo. We make those Fates our seWes.
Ant. Yes, we have made 'em ; we have lov'd each other Into our mutual ruin.
Cleo. The Gods have seen my Joys with envious eyes ; I have no friends in Heav'n ; and all the World, (As 'twere the bus'ness of Mankind to part us) Is arm'd against my Love : ev'n you your self Joyn with the rest ; you, you are arm'd against me.
Ani. I will be justifjr'd in all I do To late Posterity, and therefore hear me. If I mix a lye
With any truth, reproach me freely with it ; Else, favor me with silence,
Cleo. You command me. And I am dumb :
Ven. I like this well : he shows Authority.
Ant. That I derive my ruin From you alone
Cleo. O Heav'ns ! I ruin you !
Ant. You promts' d me your silence, and you break it Ere I have scarce begun.
Cleo. Well, I obey you.
429
430
APPENDIX
Ant, When I beheld ^rou first, it was in AEgypt^ Ere Casar saw your Eyes ; you gave me love, And were too young to know it ; that I setled Your Father in his Throne, was for your sake, I left th' acknowledgment for time to ripen. Casar stept in, and with a greedy hand Pluck' d the green fruit, ere the first blush of red. Yet cleaving to the bough. He was my Lord, And was, beside, too great for me to rival, But, I deserv'd you first, though he enjojr'd you When, after, I beheld you in Cilicia^ An Enemy to Rome^ I pardon'd you.
CUo, I clear'd my self
Ant. Again you break your Promise. I loVd you still, and took your weak excuses, Took you into my bosome, stain'd by Casar^ And not half mine : I went to yEgypt with you And hid me from the business of the World, Shut out enquiring Nations firom my sight. To give whole years to you.
Ven. aside. Yes, to your shame be't spoken.
Ant. How I lov'd Witness ye Dayes and Nights, and all your hours That Danc'd away with Down upon your Feet, As all your business were to count my passion. One day past by, and nothing saw but Love ; Another came, and still 'twas only Love : The Suns were weary'd out with looking on, And I untyr*d with loving. I saw you ev'ry day, and all the day; And ev'ry day was still but as the first : So eager was I still to see you more.
Vtn. 'Tis all too true.
Ant. Fuhfia^ my Wife, grew jealous, As she indeed had reason ; rais'd a War In Italyy to call me back.
Ven, But yet You went not
Ant. While within your arms I lay, The World fell mouldring from my hands each hour, And left me scarce a grasp (I thank your love for't.)
Ven, Well push'd : that last was home.
Chop. Yet may I speak ?
Ant. If I have urg'd a falshood, yes ; else, not. Your silence says I have not. Fidvia dy'd ; (Pardon, you gods, with my unkindness dy'd) To set the World at peace, I took Octavia^ This Cesar's Sister; in her pride of youth And flow'r of Beauty did I wed that Lady,
DRYDEN-^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT II 431
Whom blushing I most praise, because I left her. You caird ; my Love obeyed the fatal summons : This raised the Roman Arms ; the Cause was yours. I would have fought by Land, where I was stronger ; You hindred it : yet, when I fought at Sea, Forsook me fighting ; and (Oh stain to Plonor ! Oh lasting shame !) I knew not that I fled ; But fled to follow you.
Ven, What haste she made to hoist her purple Sails I And, to appear magnificent in flight, Drew half our strength away.
Ant, All this you causM. And, Would you multiply more ruins on me ? This honest Man, my best, my only friend. Has gathered up the Shipwrack of my Fortunes ; Twelve Legions I have left, my last recruits, And you have watch' d the news, and bring your eyes To seize them too. If you have ought to answer. Now speak, you have free leave.
Alex, aside. She stands confounded : Despair is in her eyes.
Ven, Now lay a Sigh i'th way, to stop his passage : Prepare a Tear, and bid it for his Legions ; 'TIS like they shall be sold.
CUo, How shall I plead my cause, when you, my Judge Already have condenm'd me ? Shall I bring The Love you bore me for my Advocate ? That now is tum'd against me, that destroys me ; For, love once past, is, at the best, forgotten ; But oftner sours to hate : 'twill please my Lord To mine me, and therefore I'll be guilty. But, could I once have thought it would have pleas'd you, That you would pry, with narrow searching eyes Into my faults, severe to my destruction. And watching all advantages with care. That serve to make me wretched ? Speak, my Lord, For I end here. Though I deserve this usage, Was it like you to give it ?
Ant. O you wrong me. To think I sought this parting, or desir'd To accuse you more than what will clear my self. And justifie this breach.
Cleo. Thus low I thank you. And, nnce my innocence will not offend, I shall not blush to own it
Ven, After this I think she'll blush at nothing.
C/eo, You seem gricv'd, (And therein you are kind) that Gesar first
432
APPENDIX
Enjoy* d my Iotc, though you descnr'd it better : I grieve for that, my Lord, much more than you; For, had I first been yours, it would have sav'd My second choice : I never had been his, And ne'r had been but youis. But Casar first. You say, possess'd my love. Not so, my Lord : He first possess'd my Person ; you my Love : Quar lov'd me ; but I lov'd Antony, If I endur'd him after, 'twas because I judg'd it due to the first name of Men ; And, half constrain' d, I gave, as to a Tyrant, What he would take by force.
Ven, O Syren I Syren I Yet grant that all the love she boasts were tmc^ Has she not ruin'd you ? I still urge that. The fatal consequence.
Cleo. The consequence indeed, For I dare challenge him, my greatest foe. To say it was design'd : 'tis true, I lov'd you. And kept you far from an uneasie Wife, (Such Fulvia was) Yes, but he'll say, 3rou left Octavia for me ;•
And, Can you blame me to receive that love^ Which quitted such desert, for worthless me ? How often have I wish'd some other Cdsar, Great as the first, and as the second young. Would court my Love to be refus'd for you !
Ven. Words, words ; but AcHum^ Sir, remember Adium*
Cleo, Ev'n there, I dare his malice. True, I Coonsel'd To fight at Sea ; but, I betrajr'd you not. I fled ; but not to the Enemy. 'Twas fear; Would I had been a Man, not to have fear'd. For none would then have env3r'd me your friendship. Who envy me your Love.
Ant. We're both unhappy : If nothing else, yet our ill fortune parts us. Speak ; Would you have me perish, by my stay ?
Cleo, If as a friend you ask my Judgment, go ; If as a Lover, stay. If you must perish : 'Tis a hard word ; but stay.
Vtn, See now th' effects of her so boasted love I She strives to drag you down to mine with her : But, could she scape without you, oh how soon Would she let go her hold, and haste to shore. And never look behind I
Cleo. Then judge my love by this. \Giving Antony a
Could I have bom A life or death, a happiness or woe From yours divided, this had giv'n me means.
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE. ACT II 433
Ant. 'Sij Hercules, the Writing of Ociauius ! I know it well ; 'tis that Proscribing hand. Young as it was, that led the way to mine.
And left me but the second place in Murder.
See, see, Ventidius ! here he offers AEgypt. And joyns all Syria to it, as a present. So, in requital, she forsake my fortunes. And joyn her Arms with his.
Cleo. And yet you leave me I You leave me, Anthony ; and, yet I love you. Indeed I do : I have refused a Kingdom, That's a Trifle:
For I could part with life ; with any thing. But onely you. O let me dye but with you I Is that a hard request ?
Ant, Next living with you, 'Tis all that Heav'n can give.
Alex, aside. He melts ; We conquer.
Cleo. No : you shall go : your Interest calls yoa hence ; Yes ; your dear interest pulls too strong, for these
Weak Armes to hold you here. [ Takes his hand.
Go ; leave me, Soldier;
(For you're no more a Lover :) leave me dying : Push me all pale and panting from your bosome. And, when your March begins, let one run after Breathless almost for Joy ; and cry, she's dead : The Souldiers shout ; you then perhaps may sigh. And muster all your Roman Gravity ; Ventidius chides ; and strait your Brow deares up. As I had never been.
Ant. Gods, 'tis too much ; too much for Man to bear !
Cleo. What is*t for me then, A weak forsaken Woman ? and a Lover ? — Here let me breathe my last : envy me not This minute in your Armes : I'll dye apace : As fast as ere I can ; and end your trouble.
Ant, Dye ! Rather let me perish : loos'nd Nature Leap from its hinges. Sink the props of Heav'n, And fall the Skyes to crush the neather World. My Eyes, my Soul ; my all ! [Embraces her,
Ven. And what's this Toy In ballance with your fortune. Honor, Fame ?
Ant. What is't, Venlidius? it out- weighs 'em all; Why, we have more than conquer'd Casar now : My Queen's not only Innocent, but Loves me. This, this is she who drags me down to ruin ! But, could she scape without me, with what haste Would she let slip her hold, and make to shore, And never look behind I
s8
434 APPENDIX
Down on tlij kneel* Bbsphemer as dwa ast. And UK fioKp^cncs oc wiuo^'d TniMWffOLC
Vau rn ntfacr dye, than take k. 1¥iil vm fo?
Ami, Go! Whkhcr? gofroaalltbr'scsoelleBt: Faidiy Hooor, Viitse, all good fkiagi fionid, Tkat I sfaoold go frooi ber, vbo sets bv- kive Above the pfioe of KingdooBS. Gsre, too Gods, Give to josr Bcnr, joox C^scr^ TbB Rafde of a Gloic to IMJ7 vidtal, Tbis G«-gaa Worid, aad pm ban cbeajdy on : m Bot be plcss'd vitb ;e£S tbaa Oafiatrm.
CU». Sbe vboOj xoan. Mr beam's so £ill of >7, T^ I dkaQ do SQBe vOd emxvagaaoe or Lore, in pobbck ; aad tbe foofidh Wodd, Wbich kaovs aot tesdcnem, vi32 dnak ae Mjid.
Vtm. OWooaea! Woiks! Wcaea! aDtbegods Have Bot sack pov^r of dcng good to Man, As jvn of doing bax^
AmL Oar Mea are Aia'd. U^aar dbe Gate tbat looks to C^imr% I voBld irveve tbe Tiacberr be
Ts c^er to letss beJiofe I go; Foe, dQ tbe pSeasBics I bave kaovsL be« ^nck Ob hj iiiiiiJImiiii bov I ka^ iar aaglit ! Tbai balk ibe sveca of mttBal lo>«e bst tzr, Aad owe Tznm^ o^ie Ccvr [r i^/] ve dye
Act IDL
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AmL ITbo^ttbcwdic«e«^DlearasvPOBld&Ad
So pieaF''d wab ibat sweet Im^ge, I ^niig AsdBdded aB aor srengdi locvarUoir;
£2e«. CoBte to ibc, ocBoe anv SoUBer, to V oo^ve becB too knig arvvr tram mv 8bL vibeB 1 bave yen. itA^ axid all sd^ <nm, Widi bRsikeB amnsms^ aoid widi r*Il sar^ 3MIB iivre nnkxad, and jMinh^> yoa. And Biaik yon tbs vida
AmL Mr Bi^jbiM Tit
Am. Tbm jonuB ss ^wH, mr X.avt !
DRYDEN-^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT III 435
Where gasping Gyants lay, cleft by my Sword :
And Mountain tops par'd off each other blow,
To bury those I slew : receive me, goddess :
Let Casar spread his subtile Nets, like Vulcan,
In thy embraces I would be beheld
By Heav'n and Earth at once :
And make their envy what they meant their sport.
Let those who took us blush ; I would love on
With awful State, regardless of their frowns.
As their superior god.
There's no satiety of Love, in thee ;
Enjoy'd, thou still art new ; perpetual Spring
Is in thy armes ; the ripen'd fruit but falls.
And blossoms rise to fill its empty place ;
And I grow rich by giving.
Enter Ventidius, and stands apart,
Alfx, O, now the danger's past, your General comes. He joyns not in your joys, nor minds your Triumphs ; But, with contracted brows, looks frowning on, As envying your Success.
Ant. Now, on my Soul, he loves me ; truly loves me ; He never flatter* d me in any vice. But awes me with his virtue : ev'n this minute Methinks he has a right of chiding me. Lead to the Temple : I'll avoid his presence a It checks too strong upon me. j [Exeunt the rni.
As Antony is goings Ventidius /m/Zt him by the Robe,
Ven, Emperor.
Ant, looking back, 'Tis the old argument ; I pr'ythee spare me.
Ven, But this one hearing. Emperor.
Ant, Let go My Robe ; or, by my Father Hercules
Ven, By Hercules his Father, that's jret greater, I bring you somewhat you would wish to know.
Ant, Thou see' St we are observed ; attend me here. And I'll return. [Ejtii.
Ven. I'm waning in his favor, yet I love him ; I love this Man, who runs to meet his mine ; And, sure the gods, like me, are fond of him : His Virtues lye so mingled with his Crimes, As would confound their choice to punish one. And not reward the other.
Enter Antony. Ant, We can conquer. You see, without your aid. We have dislodg'd their Troops, They look on us at distance, and, like Curs Scap'd from the Lions paws, they bay far off.
436 APPENDIX
And lick their wounds, and fiuntly threaten War. Flye thousand Romam with their laces upward, Lye breathless on the Plain.
Ven. 'Tis well : and he Who lost 'em, could haye spar'd Ten thousand more. Yet if, by this advantage, you could gain An easier Peace, whMe Casar doubts the Chance Of Arms!
Ant, O think not on't, VefUidius\ The Boy pursues my ruin, he'll no peace : His malice is considerate in advantage ; O, he's the coolest Murderer, so stanch. He kills, and keeps his temi>er.
Ven, Have you no friend In all his Army, who has power to move him, Mecttnas^ or Agrippa might do much.
Ant, They're both too deep in Casar^s interests. We'll work it out by dint of Sword, or i>erish.
Ven. Fain I would find some other.
Ant. Thank thy love. Some four or five such Victories as this. Will save thy farther pains.
Ven. Expect no more ; Casar is on his Guard : I know. Sir, you have conquer'd against ods ; But still you draw Supplies from one poor Town, And of ^Egyptians : he has all the World, And, at his back. Nations come pouring in, To fill the gaps you make. Pray think again.
Ant. Why dost thou drive me from my self, to search For Forreign aids ? to hunt my memory, And range all o're a waste and barren place
To find a Friend ? The wretched have no Friends
Yet I had one, the bravest youth of Ronu^ Whom Qtsar loves beyond the love of Women ; He could resolve his mind, as Fire does Wax, From that hard rugged Image, melt him down. And mould him in what softer form he pleas' d.
Ven. Him would I see ; that man of all the world : Just such a one we want.
Ant, He lov'd me too, I was his Soul ; he liv'd not but in me : We were so clos'd within each others brests. The rivets were not found that join'd us first That does not reach us yet : we were so mizt. As meeting streams, both to our selves were lost ; We were one mass ; we could not give or take. But from the same ; for he was I, I he.
Ven. aside. He moves as I would wish him.
Ant. After this.
DRYDEN-^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT III 437
I need not tell his name : 'twas Dollabella,
Ven, He's now in Qtsar's Camp.
Ant, No matter where. Since he's no longer mine. He took unkindly That I forbade him CUop€ttra*% sight ; Because I fear*d he lov'd her : he confest He had a warmth, which, for my sake, he stifled ; For 'twere impossible that two, so one. Should not have lov'd the same. When he departed, He took no leave ; and that confirm'd my thoughts.
Ven, It argues that he lov'd you more than her, Else he had staid ; but he perceiv'd you jealous. And would not grieve his friend : I know he loves you.
Ant, I should have seen him then ere now.
Ven, Perhaps He has thus long been laboring for your peace.
Ant, Would he were here.
Ven, Would you believe he lov'd you ? I read your answer in your eyes ; you would. Not to conceal it longer, he has sent A Messenger from Casar's Camp, with Letters.
Ant, Let him appear. [Exit Ventidins, and Re-enttrt
Ven, I'll bring him instantly. immediately with Dollabellsu
Ant, 'Tis he himself, himself, by holy Friendship I [Runs to em-
Art thou return' d at last, my better half? irace Aim,
Come, give me all my self. Let me not live.
If the young Bridegroom, longing for his night, Was ever half so fond.
DoUa, I must be silent ; for my Soul is busie About a nobler work : she's new come home. Like a long-absent man, and wanders o'er Each room, a stranger to her own, to look If all be safe.
Ant, Thou hast what's left of me. For I am now so sunk from what I was. Thou And' St me at my lowest water-mark. The Rivers that ran in, and rais'd my fortunes. Are all dry'd up, or take another course : What I have left is from my native Spring ; I've still a heart that swells, in scorn of fate. And lifts me to my banks.
DoUa, Still you are Lord of all the World to me.
Ant, Why, then I yet am so ; for thou art all. If I had any joy when thou wert absent, I grudg'd it to my self; methought I robb'd Thee of thy part. But, Oh my Dollabella ! Thou hast beheld me other than I am. Hast thou not seen my morning Chaihbers fill'd
438
APPENDIX
With Scepter*d Slaves, who waited to salute me : With Eastern Monarchs, who forgot the Sun, To worship my uprising ? Menial Kings Ran coursing up and down my Palace-jrard, Stood silent in my presence, watch'd my eyes. And, at my least command, all started out Like Racers to the Goal.
Dolla. Slaves to your fortune.
AtU, Fortune is Casar's now ; and what am I ?
Ven, What you have made your self ; I will not flatter.
Ant, Is this friendly done ?
Dolla. Yes, when his end is so, I must join with him ; Indeed I must, and yet you must not chide : Why am I else your friend ?
Ant, Take heed, young man. How thou upbraid'st my love : the Queen has eyes. And thou too hast a Soul. Canst thou remember When, sweird with hatred, thou beheld' st her first As accessary to thy Brothers death ?
Dolla. Spare my remembrance ; 'twas a guilty day, And still the blush hangs here.
AnL To clear her self. For sending him no aid, she came from Egypt. Her Gaily down the Silver Cydnos row'd, The Tackling Silk, the Streamers wav'd with Gold, The Gentle Winds were lodg'd in Purple sails : Her Njrmphs, like Nereids^ round her Couch, were plac'd; Where she, another Sea-bom Venus^ lay.
Dolla. No more : I would not hear it.
Ant. O, you must ! She lay, and leant her cheek upon her hand. And cast a look so languishingly sweet. As if, secure of all beholders hearts. Neglecting she could take 'em : Boys, like Cupids, Stood fanning, with their painted wings, the winds That plaid about her face : but if she smil'd, A darting glory seem'd to blaze abroad : That mens desiring eyes were never weary'd; But hung upon the object : to soft Flutes The Silver Oars kept time ; and while they plaid. The hearing gave new pleasure to the sight ; And both to thought : 'twas Heav'n, or somewhat more ; For she so charm' d all hearts, that gazing crowds Stood panting on the shore, and wanted breath To give their welcome voice. Then, DoUabella^ where was then thy Soul ? Was not thy fury quite disarm' d with wonder? Didst thou not shrink behind me from those eyes. And whisper in my ear, Oh tell her not
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT III 439
That I accused her of my Brothers death ?
Dolla, And should my weakness be a plea for yours ? Mine was an age when love might be excus'd, When kindly warmth, and when my springing youth Made it a debt to Nature. Yours
Vm. Speak boldly. Yours, he would say, in your declining age, When no more heat was left but what you forc'd. When all the sap was needful for the Trunk, When it went down, then you constrained the course. And robb*d from Nature, to supply desire; In you (I would not use so harsh a word) But 'tis plain dotage.
Ant, Ha !
Dolla, 'Twas urg'd too home. But yet the loss was private that I made ; 'Twas but my self I lost : I lost no Legions ; I had no World to lose, no peoples love.
Ant. This from a friend ?
Dolla, Yes, Anthony^ a true one ; A friend so tender, that each word I speak Stabs my own heart, before it reach your ear. O, judge me not less kind because I chide : To Casar I excuse you.
Ant. O ye Gods ! Have I then liv'd to be excused to Casar f
Dolla, As to your equal.
Ant. Well, he's but my equal : While I wear this, he never shall be more.
Dolla. I bring Conditions from him.
Ant. Are they Noble ? Methinks thou shouldst not bring 'em else ; yet he Is full of deep dissembling; knows no Honour, Divided from his Int'rest. Fate mbtook him ; For Nature meant him for an Usurer, He*8 fit indeed to buy, not conquer Kingdoms.
Vm, Then, granting this. What pow'r was theirs who wrought so hard a temper To honourable Terms I
Ant, It was my Dollabella^ or some God.
Dolla. Nor I ; nor yet Mecctnas^ nor Agrippa : They were your Enemies ; and I a Friend Too weak alone ; yet 'twas a Romanes deed.
Ant, 'Twas like a Roman done : show me that man Who has preserv'd my life, my love, my honour ; Let me but see his face.
Ven. That task is mine, And, Heav'n thou know'st how pleasing. [^Exit Vent.
Dolla. You'll remember
440 APPENDIX
To whom yon stand obliged?
Ant, When I forget it. Be thou unkind, and that's my greatest curse. My Queen shall thank him too.
DoUa, I fear she will not.
Ant, But she shall do't : the Queen, my DoUahella I Hast thou not still some grudgings of thy Feyer ?
Dolla, I would not see her lost.
Ant, When I forsake her, Leaye me, my better Stars ; for she has truth Beyond her beauty. Casar tempted her. At no less price than Kingdoms, to betray me ; But she resisted all : and yet thou chid'st me For loving her too well. Could I do so ?
Dolia, Yes, there's my reason.
^^-^vi/^ Ventidius, vfith Octavia, leading Axi\aaf% two little Daughters,
Ant, Where ? Octavia there ! \Starimg back.
Ven, What, is she poyson to you ? a Disease ? Look on her, view her well ; and those she brings : Are they all strangers to your eyes ? has Nature No secret call, no whisper they are yours ?
Dolla, For shame, my Lord, if not for love, receive 'em With kinder eyes. If you confess a man, Meet 'em, embrace 'em, bid 'em welcome to you. Your arms should open, eVn without your knowledge. To clasp 'em in ; your feet should turn to wings. To bear you to 'em ; and your eyes dart out. And aim a kiss ere you could reach the lips.
Ant, I stood anuue'd to think how they came hither
Vent, I sent for 'em; I brought 'em in, unknown To Cleopatra^% Guards.
Dolla, Yet are you cold ?
Octav, Thus long I have attended for my welcome; Which, as a stranger, sure I might expect. Who am I ?
Ant, Casar's Sister.
Octav, That's unkind ! Had I been nothing more than Qesar's Sister, Know, I had still remain'd in Casar's Camp ; But your Octavia, your much injur* d Wife, Tho' banish' d from your Bed, driv'n from your House, In spight of Ccesar's Sister, still is yours. 'Tis true, I have a heart disdains your coldness. And prompts me not to seek what you should offer; But a Wife's Virtue still surmounts that pride : I come to claim you as my own ; to show My duty first, to ask, nay beg, your kindness :
/ s
DRYDEN--ALL FOR LOVE. ACT HI 441
Your hand, my Lord ; 'tis mine, and I will have it [ Takit^ hU kand,
Vtn, Do, take it, thou deserv'st it
Dolla, On my Soul, And so she does : she's neither too submissiTe, Nor yet too haughty ; but so just a mean, j Shows, as it ought, a Wife and Roman too.
Ant, I fear, Octavia^ you have begg'd my life.
Octav, Begg'd it, my Lord?
Ani, Yes, begg'd it, my Ambassadress, Poorly and basely begg'd it of your Brother.
Octav, Poorly and basely I could never beg ; Nor could my Brother grant
Ant, Shall I, who, to my kneeling Slave, could say. Rise up, and be a King ; shall I fall down And cry, Forgive me, Casar f shall I set A Man, my Equal, in the place of Jove, As he could give me being ? No ; that word. Forgive, would choke me up. And die upon my tongue.
DoUa, You shall not need it.
Ant, I will not need it. Come, you've all betray 'd me : My Friend too ! To receive some vile conditions. My Wife has bought me, with her prayers and tears ; And now I must become her branded Slave : In every peevish mood she will upbraid The life she gave : if I but look awry. She cries, I'll tell my Brother.
Octav. My hard fortune Subjects me still to your unkind mistakes. But the Conditions I have brought are such You need not blush to take : I love your Honour, > Because 'tis mine ; it never shall be said Octavia^s Husband was her Brothers Slave. Sir, you are free ; free, ev*n from her you loath ; For, tho' my Brother bargains for your love. Makes me the price and cement of your peace, I have a Soul like yours ; I cannot take Your love as alms, nor beg what I deserve. I'll tell my Brother we are reconcil'd ; He shall draw back his Troops, and you shall march To rule the East : I may be dropt at Athens ; No matter where, I never will complain. But only keep the barren Name of Wife, And rid you of the trouble.
Fen. Was ever such a strife of sullen Honour ! Both scorn to be oblig'd.
Do/la. O, she has toucht him in the tender* st part ; See how he reddens with despight and shame To be out-done in Generosity !
442
APPENDIX
Ven, See how he winks ! how he dries up a tear. That fain would fall \
Ant, Octavia^ I have heard you, and must praise The greatness of your Soul ; But cannot yield to what you have propos'd : For I can ne'er be conquei'd but by love ; And you do all for duty. You would free me. And would be dropt at Athens ; was't not so ?
Octav, It was, my Lord.
Ant, Then I must be oblig'd To one who loves me not, who, to her self, May call me thankless and ungrateful Man : I'll not endure it, no.
Ven, I'm glad it pinches there.
Octav, Would you triumph o*er poor Octavia^s Virtue ? That pride was all I had to bear me up ; That you might think you ow*d me for your life. And ow'd it to my duty, not my love. I have been injur* d, and my haughty Soul Could brook but ill the Man who slights my Bed.
Ant, Therefore you love me not.
Octav, Therefore, my Lord, I should not love you.
Ant, Therefore you wou'd leave me ?
Octav, And therefore I should leave you if I could.
Dolla, Her Souls too great, after such injuries. To say she loves ; and yet she lets you see it. Her modesty and silence plead her cause.
Ant, O, Dolladella, which way shall I turn ? I find a secret yielding in my Soul ; But Cleopatroy who would die with me. Must she be left ? Pity pleads for Octavia ; But does it not plead more for Cleopatra f
Ven, Justice and Pity both plead for Octavia ; For Cleopatra^ neither. One would be ruin'd with you; but she first Had ruin'd you: the other, you have ruin'd, And yet she would preserve you. In every thing their merits are unequal.
Ant, O, my distracted Soul !
Octav. Sweet Heav'n compose it. Come, come, my Lord, if I can pardon you, Methinks you should accept it. Look on these ; Are they not yours ? Or stand they thus neglected As they are mine ? Go to him, Children, go ; Kneel to him, take him by the hand, speak to him; For you may speak, and he may own you too. Without a blush ; and so he cannot all His Children : go, I say, and pull him to me,
1
DRYDEN—ALL FOR LOVE, ACT III 443
And pull him to your seWes, from that bad Woman.
You, Agrippina^ hang upon his arms ;
And you, An/onia, clasp about his waste :
If he will shake you off, if he will dash you
Against the Pavement, you must bear it, Children ;
For you are mine, and I was bom to suffer. [Ifere the Children go to him, etc.
Ven, Was ever sight so moving ! Emperor I
Dolla, Friend !
Octav, Husband !
Both Childr, Father !
Ant, I am vanquished : take me, Octavia ; take me, Children ; share me all. \^Embracing them,
I've been a thriftless Debtor to your loves. And run out much, in riot, from your stock ; But all shall be amended.
Octav. O blest hour !
Dolla. O happy change !
Ven. My joy stops at my tong^ue ; But it has found two chanels here for one. And bubbles out above.
Ant, to Octav, This is thy Triumph ; lead me where thou wilt ; EVn to thy Brothers Camp.
Octav, All there are yours.
Enter Alexas hastily,
Alex, The Queen, my Mistress, Sir, and yours
Ant. 'Tis past Octavia, you shall stay this night ; To morrow, Ccesar and we are one. [Ex, leading Octavia. Dol.
Ven. There's news for you ; run, and the Children follow.
My officious Eunuch, Be sure to be the first ; haste forward : Haste, my dear Eunuch, haste. [Exit,
Alex, This downright fighting Fool, this thick-scull'd Hero, This blunt unthinking Instrument of death. With plain dull Virtue, has out-gone my Wit : Pleasure forsook my early'st Infancy, The luxury of others robb'd my Cradle, And ravish' d thence the promise of a Man : Cast out from Nature, disinherited Of what her meanest Children claim by kind ; Yet, greatness kept me from contempt : that's gone. Had Cleopatra follow' d my advice. Then he had been betray'd, who now forsakes. She dies for love ; but she has known its joys : Gods, is this just, that I, who knows no jo3rs. Must die, because she loves ?
Enter Cleopatra, Charmion, Iras, Train, Oh, Madam, I have seen what blasts my eyes ! Octavia^s here !
444
APPENDIX
CUop, Peace with that Raven's note. I know it too ; and now am in The pangs of death.
Alex, You are no more a Queen ; Egypt is lost.
CUop. What teirst thou me of Egypt ? My Life, my Soul is lost ! Octavia has him !
0 fatal name to CUopatrd's love 1
My kisses, my embraces now are hers ;
While I But thou hast seen my Rival ; ^eak.
Does she deserve this blessing ? Is she fair, Bright as a Goddess ? and is all perfection Confin'd to her? It is. Poor I was made Of that course matter which, when she was finished. The Gods threw by, for rubbish.
AUx, She's indeed a very Miracle.
Cleop. Death to my hopes, a Miracle !
AUx. bowing, A Miracle;
1 mean of Goodness ; for in beauty. Madam, You make all wonders cease.
CUop, I was too rash : Take this in part of recompence. But, Oh, [Givittg a Ring.
I fear thou flatter'st me.
Char, She comes ! she's here !
Iras, Flie, Madam, Casar's Sister !
CUop, Were she the Sister of the Thund'rer Jove^ And bore her Brothers Lightning in her eyes, Thus would I face my Rival. [Meets Octav. with Ventid. Octav.
Octav, I need not ask if you are Cleopatra^ bears up to her. Their Trams Your haughty carriage come tip on either side,
Cleop. Shows I am a Queen : Nor need I ask you who you are.
Octav, A Roman : A name that makes, and can unmake a Queen.
Chop. Your Lord, the Man who serves me, is a Roman.
Octav. He was a Roman^ till he lost that name To be a Slave in Egypt ; but I come To free him thence.
Cleop, Peace, peace, my Lover's Juno. When he grew weary of that Houshold-Clog, He chose my easier bonds.
Octav. I wonder not Your bonds are easie ; you have long been practised In that lascivious art : he's not the first For whom you spread your snares ; let Ccesar witness.
Cleop. I lov'd not Ccesar ; 'twas but gratitude I paid his love : the worst your malice can. Is but to say the greatest of Mankind Has been my Slave. The next, but far above him,
DRYDEN-^ALL FOR LOVE. ACT III 445
In my esteem, is he whom Law calls yours. But whom his love made mine.
Oct, coming up close to her, I would view nearer That face, which has so long usurped my right. To find th' inevitable charms, that catch Mankind so sure, that ruin*d my dear Lord.
Chop, O, you do well to search ; for had you known But half these charms, you had not lost his heart.
Octav, Far be their knowledge from a Roman Lady, Far from a modest Wife. Shame of our Sex, Dost thou n^t blush, to own those black endearments That make sin pleasing ?
Chop, You may blush, who want 'em. If bounteous Nature, if indulgent Heav'n Have giv'n me charms to please the bravest Man ; Should I not thank 'em ? should I be asham'd. And not be proud ? I am, that he has loVd me ; And, when I love not him, HeaVn change this Face For one like that.
Octav, Thou lov'st him not so well.
Clcop. I love him better, and deserve him more.
Octav, You do not ; cannot : you have been his ruine. Who made him cheap at Romc^ but Cleopatra ? Who made him scom'd abroad, but Cleopatra ? At Actium, who betrayed him ? Cleopatra, Who made his Children Orphans ? and poor me A wretched Widow ? only Cleopatra,
Cleop, Yet she who loves him best is Cleopatra, If you have suffer* d, I have suffered more. You bear the specious Title of a Wife, To guild your Cause, and draw the pitjring World To favour it : the World contemns poor me ; For I have lost my Honour, lost my Fame, And stain' d the glory of my Royal House, And all to bear the branded Name of Mistress. There wants but life, and that too I would lose For him I love.
Octav, BeH so then ; take thy wish. [Exit cum suit.
Cleop, And 'tis my wish. Now he is lost for whom alone I liv'd. My sight grows dim, and every object dances. And swims before me, in the maze of death. My spirits, while they were oppos'd, kept up; They could not sink beneath a Rivals scorn : But now she's gone they faint.
Alex. Mine have had leisure To recollect their strength, and furnish counsel, To ruine her ; who else must mine you.
Cleop, Vain Promiser!
446 APPENDIX
Lead me, my Charmion ; nay, your hand too, Iras :
My grief has weight enough to sink you both.
Conduct me to some solitary Chamber,
And draw the Curtains round ;
Then leave me to my self, to take alone
My fill of grief:
There I till death will his unkindness weep :
As harmless Infants moan themselves asleep. [£xetmt.
Act, IV. Antony, DollabeUa,
Dolla. Why would you shift it from your self, on me? •
Can you not tell her you must part ?
Ani, I cannot. I could pull out an eye, and bid it go. And t'other should not weep. Oh, Dottabella, How many deaths are in this word Depart ! I dare not trust my tongue to tell her so : One look of hers, would thaw me into tears And I should melt till I were lost agen.
Dolla. Then Ut Ventidius; He's rough by nature.
Ant. Oh, he'll speak too harshly ; He'll kill her with the news : Thou, only thou.
DoUa, Nature has cast me in so soft a mould. That but to hear a story feign'd for pleasure Of some sad Lovers death, moistens my eyes. And robs me of my Manhood. — I should speak So faintly ; with such fear to grieve her heart, She'd not believe it earnest.
Ant. Therefore; therefore Thou only, thou art 6t : think thy self me. And when thou speak'st (but let it first be long) Take off the edge from every sharper soimd. And let our parting be as gently made As other Loves begin : wilt thou do this ?
Dolla. What you have said, so sinks into my Soul, That, if I must speak, I shall speak just so.
Ant. I leave you then to your sad task : Farewel. I sent her word to meet you. ^Goes to the door, and comes hack,
I forgot ;
Let her be told, I'll make her peace with mine : Her Crown and Dignity shall be preserv'd.
If I have pow'r with Casar. O, be sure
To think on that. [Antony goes agcnn to tke
Dolla. Fear not, I will remember. door, and comes iack.
Ant. And tell her, too, how much I was constrain' d; I did not this, but with extreamest force:
DRYDEN-^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT IV 447
Desire her not to hate my memory,
For I still cherish hers ; insist on that.
DoUa, Trust me, I'll not forget it.
Ant, Then that's all. \^Goes out, and returns again.
Wilt thou forgive my fondness this once more ? Tell her, tho' we shall never meet again, If I should hear she took another Love, The news would break my heart. — Now I must go; For every time I have return* d, I feel My Soul more tender ; and my next command Would be to bid her stay, and mine both. [Exit,
Dolla, Men are but Children of a larger growth. Our appetites as apt to change as theirs, And full as craving too, and full as vain ; And yet the Soul, shut up in her dark room, Vie^ng so clear abroad, at home sees nothing ; But, like a Mole in Earth, busie and blind, Works all her folly up, and casts it outward To the Worlds open view : thus I discover* d. And blam*d the love of ruin*d Antony ; Yet wish that I were he, to be so ruin'd.
Enter Ventidius above.
Yen, Alone? and talking to himself ? concern* d too? Perhaps my ghess is right : he lov*d her once. And may pursue it still.
Dolla. O Friendship ! Friendship ! Ill canst thou answer this ; and Reason, worse : Unfaithful in th* attempt ; hopeless to win ; And, if I win, undone : meer madness all. And yet th* occasion's fair. What injury To him, to wear the Robe which he throws by ?
Ven. None, none at all. This happens as I wish. To mine her yet more with Antony,
Enter Cleopatra, talking with Alexas, Charmion, Iras on the other side.
DoUa. She comes ! What charms have sorrow on that face I Sorrow seems pleas' d to dwell with so much sweetness; Yet, now and then, a melancholy smile Breaks loose, like Lightning, in a Winter's night. And shows a moments day.
Ven. If she should love him too I Her Eunuch there ! That Porcpisce bodes ill weather. Draw, draw nearer, Sweet Devil, that I may hear. [Dollabella goes over to Charmion and
Alex. Believe me ; tiy Iras ; seems to talk with them.
To make him jealous ; jealousie is like A polisht Glass held to the lips when life's in doubt : If there be breath, 'twill catch the damp and show it
Cleop. I grant you jealousie's a proof of love;
448 APPENDIX
But *tis a weak and unavailing Med' cine ; It puts oat the disease, and makes it show, Bat has no pow*r to cure.
AUx, 'Tis your last remedy, and strongest too : And then this DoUabella^ who so fit To practice on ? He's handsom, valiant, young. And looks as he were laid for Nature's bait To catch weak Womens eyes. He stands already more than half suspected Of loving you : the least kind word, or glance, You give this Youth, will kindle him with love : Then, like a burning Vessel set adrift. You'll send him down amain before the wind. To fire the heart of jealous Antony,
CUop, Can I do this ? Ah no ; my love's so true, That I can neither hide it where it is. Nor show it where it is not. Nature meant me A Wife, a silly harmless household Dove, Fond without art ; and kind without deceit ; But Fortune, that has made a Mistress of me. Hast thrust me out to the wide World, unfumish'd Of falshood to be happy.
AUx. Force your self. Th* event will be, your Lover will return Doubly desirous to possess the good Which once he fear'd to lose.
Cleop. I must attempt it ; But Oh with what regret I Exit Alex. [She comes a^ to DoHabeOa.
Ven. So, now the Scene draws near ; they're in my reach.
Cleop. to DoL Discoursing with my Women ! Might not I Share in your entertainment ?
Char. You have been The Subject of it. Madam.
Cleop. How ; and how ?
Iras. Such praises of your beauty !
Cleop. Mecr Poetry. Your Roman Wits, your Callus and Tibullus^ Have taught you this from Citheris and Delia,
Dolla. Those Roman Wits have never been in Egypt^ Citheris and Delia else had been unsung :
I, who have seen had I been bom a Poet,
Should chuse a nobler name.
Cleop. You flatter me. But, 'tis your Nation's vice : all of your Country Are flatterers, and all false. Your Friend's like you. I'm sure he sent you not to speak these words.
Dolla, No, Madam ; yet he sent me
Cleop, Well, he sent you
Dolla, Of a less pleasing errand.
DRYDEN—ALL FOR LOVE, ACT IV 449
Chop, How less pleasing? Less to your self, or me ?
Doila, Madam, to both ; For you must mourn, and I must grieve to cause it.
Cleop, You, Charmian, and your Fellow, stand at distance.
(Aside.) Hold up, my Spirits. Well, now your mournful matter ;
For I'm prepar'd, perhaps can ghess it too.
Dolla, I wish you would ; for 'tis a thankless office To tell ill news : and I, of all your Sex, Most fear displeasing you.
CUop, Of all your Sex, I soonest could forgive you, if 3rou should.
Ven, Most delicate advances ! Woman ! Woman ! Dear damn'd, inconstant Sex !
Cleop, In the first place, I am to be forsaken ; is't not so ?
Doila, I wish I could not answer to that question.
Cleop, Then pass it o'er, because it troubles you : I should have been more grieVd another time.
Next, I'm to lose my Kingdom. Farewd, Egypt.
Yet, is there any more ?
Doila. Madam, I fear Your too deep sense of grief has tum'd your reason.
Cleop, No, no, I'm not run mad ; I can bear Fortune : And Love may be expell'd by other Love, As Poysons are by Poysons.
Doila, You o'erjoy me. Madam,
To find your griefs so moderately born.
You've heard the worst ; all are not false, like him.
Cleop. No; Heav'n forbid they should.
DoUa, Some men are constant.
Cleop. And constancy deserves reward, that's certain.
Doila, Deserves it not ; but give it leave to hope.
Ven. I'll swear thou hast my leave. I have enough : But how to manage this ! Well, I'll consider. [ExiL
Doila. I came prepar'd, To tell you heavy news ; news, which I thought. Would fright the blood from your pale cheeks to hear : But 3rou have met it with a cheerfulness That makes my task more easie ; and my tongue. Which on another's message was employ' d, Would gladly speak its own.
Cleop, Hold, Dollabella, Fust tell me, were you chosen by my Lord ? Or sought you this employment ?
Doila. He pick'd me out ; and, as his bosom-friend. He charg'd me with his words.
Cleop. The message then I know was tender, and each accent smooth,
99
450
APPENDIX
To mollifie that ragged word Depart,
DoUa. Oh, you mistake : he chose the harshest words,
With fiery eyes, and with contracted brows.
He coyn'd his face in the severest stamp :
And fury shook his Fabrick like an Earthquake ;
He heav'd for vent, and burst like bellowing jEtna,
In sounds scarce humane, ' Hence, away for ever : < Let her begone, the blot of my renown, [All the time of this speeek^ Cleop. ' And bane of all my hopes : seems more and more concerned,
* Let her be driv'n as far as men can think till she sinks quite down,
* From Mans commerce : She'll poyson to the Center.'
Cleop, Oh, I can bear no more !
Dolla. Help, help : Oh Wretch ! Oh cursed, cursed Wretch ! What have I done ?
Char, Help, chafe her Temples, Iras,
Iras. Bend, bend her forward quickly.
Char, H eav* n be prais' d. She comes again.
Cle^, Oh, let him not approach me. Why have you brought me back to this loath' d Being, Th' abode of Falshood, violated Vows, And injur* d Love ? For pity, let me go ; For, if there be a place of long repose, I'm sure I want it My disdainful Lord Can never break that quiet ; nor awake The sleeping Soul, with hollowing in my Tomb Such words as fright her hence. Unkind, unkind.
Dolla, kneeling. Believe me, 'tis against my self I sgftak^ That sure deserves belief ; I injur'd him : My Friend ne'er spoke those words. Oh, had you seen How often he came back, and every time With something more obliging and more kind. To add to what he said ; what dear Farewels; How almost vanquisht by his love he parted, And lean'd to what unwillingly he left : I, Traitor as I was, for love of you, (But what can you not do, who made me false !) I forg'd that lye ; for whose forgiveness kneels This self-accused, self-punished Criminal.
Cleop. With how much ease believe we ^hat we wish ! Rise, Dollabella ; if you have been guilty, I have contributed, and too much love Has made me guilty too.
Th' advance of kindness which I made, was feigned. To call back fleeting love by jealousie ; But 'twould not last. Oh, rather let me lose Than so ignobly trifle with his heart.
Dolla. I find your breast fenc'd round from humane reach, Transparent as a Rock of solid Crystal ;
DRYDEN—ALL FOR LOVE, ACT IV 451
Seen Uuroogh, but nerer pierc'd. My Friend, my Friend !
What endless treasure hast thou thrown away,
And scattered, like an Infant, in the Ocean,
Vain sums of Wealth which none can gather thence.
CUop, Could you not beg An hours admittance to his private ear ? Like one who wanders through long barren Wilds, And yet foreknows no hospitable Inn Is near to succour hunger. Eats his fill, before his painful march : So would I feed a while my famish' d eyes Before we part ; for I have far to go. If death be far, and never must return.
Ventidius, with Octavia, behind,
Ven, From hence you may discover Oh, sweet, sweet I
Would you indeed ? the pretty hand in earnest ?
Doila, tahes her hand, I will, for this reward. Draw it not back,
'Tis all I e'er wiU beg.
Ven, They turn upon us.
Octav, What quick eyes has guilt !
Ven, Seem not to have observed 'em, and go on.
They enter,
Dolla, Saw you the Emperor, Ventidius f Ven, No.
I sought him ; but I heard that he was private. None with him, but Hipparchui his Freedman.
DoUa. Know you his business?
Ven, Giving him Instructions, And Letters, to his Brother Casar.
Dolla, Well, He must be found. [Exeunt Dol. and Qeop.
Octav, Most glorious impudence !
Ven, She look'd methought As she would say, Take your old man, Octavia ; Thank you, I'm better here. Well, but what use Make we of this discovery ?
Octav, Let it die.
Ven, I pity Dollabella; but she's dangerous : Her e3res have pow'r beyond Thessalian Charms To draw the Moon from Heav'n ; for Eloquence, The Sea-green Syrens taught her voice their flatt'ry ; And, while she speaks, Night steals upon the Day, Unmaric'd of those that hear: Then she's so charming. Age buds at sight of her, and swells to youth : The holy Priests gaze on her when she smiles ; And with heav'd hands forgetting gravity. They bless her ¥ranton eyes : Even I who hate her. With a malignant joy behold such beauty ; And, while I curse, desire it. Anthony
452
APPENDIX
Most needs have some renuuns of pas»on still. Which may ferment into a worse relapse, If now not fully cur'd. I know, this minute. With Casar he's endeavouring her peace.
Octav, You have prevaird : — ^but for a fiarther purpose [ WaUu tjjf.
m pioTC how he will relish this discovery. What, make a Strumpet's peace ! it swells my heart : It must not, sha' not be.
Ven, Hb Guards appear. Let me begin, and you shall second me.
Enter Antony.
Ant, Octavia^ I was looking you, my love : What, are your Letters ready ? I have giVn My last Instructions.
Octav, Mine, my Lord, are written.
Ant, Ventidius / \Drawmg kim aside.
Ven. My Lord?
Ant. A word in private. When saw you DoUabella f
Ven. Now, my Lord, He parted hence ; and Cleopatra with him.
Ant. Speak softly. 'Twas by my command he went. To bear my last larewel.
Ven. aloud. It look'd indeed Like 3rour farewel.
Ant. More softly. My farewel ?
What secret meaning have you in those words Of my Farewel ? He did it by my Order.
Ven. aloud. Then he obey'd your Order. I suppose You bid him do it with all gentleness. All kindness, and all love.
Ant. How she moum'd. The poor forsaken Creature !
Ven. She took it as she ought ; she bore your parting As she did Casar'St as she would anothers, Were a new Love to come.
Ant. aloud. Thou dost belye her ; Most basely, and maliciously belye her.
Ven. I thought not to displease you ; I have done.
Octav. coming up. You seem disturbed, my Lord.
Ant. A very trifle. Retire, my Love.
Ven. It was indeed a trifle. He sent
Ant. angrily. No more. Look how thou disobey*st me ; Thy life shall answer it.
Octav. Then *tis no trifle.
Ven. to Octav. *Tis less ; a very nothing : you too saw it. As well as I, and therefore 'tis no secret.
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT IV 453
Ant She saw it !
Ven, Yes : she saw young DoUabella
Ant, Young DoUabella /
Ven, Young, I think him young. And handsom too ; and so do others think him. But what of that ? He went by your conmiand, Indeed 'tis probable, with some kind message ; For she receiv'd it graciously; she smiPd : And then he grew familiar with her hand, Squeez'd it, and worry' d it with raTenous kisses; She blush'd, and sigh'd, and smii'd, and blush'd again ; At last she took occasion to talk softly, And brought her cheek up close, and lean'd on his : At which, he whisper'd kisses back on hers ; And then she cry'd aloud, That constancy Should be rewarded.
Octav, This I saw and heard.
Ant. What Woman was it, whom you heard and saw So playfol with my Friend ! Not Cleopatra ?
Ven. Ev'n she, my Lord !
Ant, My Cleopatral
Ven, Your Cleopatra \ DoHabella^% Cleopatra: Every Man's Cleopatra,*
Ant, Thou ly*st.
Ven. I do not lye, my Lord. Is this so strange ? Should Mistresses be left, And not provide against a time of change ? You know she's not much us'd to lonely nights.
Ant. I'll think no more on't I know 'tis false, and see the plot betwixt you. You needed not have gone this way, Octavia, What harms it you that Cleopatre^% just ? She's mine no more. I see ; and I forgive: Urge it no farther, Love.
Octav. Are you concem'd That she's found false?
Ant. I should be, were it so ; For, tho 'tis past, I would not that the World Should tax my former choice: That I lov'd one Of so light note ; but I forgive you both.
Ven, What has my age deserv'd, that you should think I would abuse your ears with perjury ? If Heav'n be true, she's false.
Ant. Tho Heav'n and Earth Should witness it, I'll not believe her tainted.
* ' Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero.' — Much Ado, III, ii, 108. — Ed.
454
APPENDIX
Ven. lUI bring you then a Witness From Hell to prove her so. Nay, go not back ; \SeeU^ Alezas jmH
For stay you must and shall. entring, ond starting back,
Alex, What means my Lord ?
Ven. To make you do what most you hate ; speak truth. You are of Cleopatra's private Counsel, Of her Bed-Counsel, her lascivious hours ; Are conscious of each nightly change she makes. And watch her, as Chaldeans do the Moon, Can tell what Signs she passes through, what day.
Alex. My noble Lord.
Ven, My most illustrious Pandar, No fine set Speech, no Cadence, no tum*d Periods, But a plain home-spun Truth, is what I ask : I did, my self, overhear your Queen make love To Dollabella, Speak ; for I will know, By your confession, what more past betwixt *em ; How near the bus'ness draws to your employment ; And when the happy hour.
Ant. Speak truth, Alexas, whether it offend Or please Ventidius^ care not : justifie Thy injur' d Queen from malice : dare his worst
Octav, aside. See, how he gives him courage ! how he fears To find her false ! and shuts his eyes to truth. Willing to be misled !
Alex. As far as love may plead for Woman's frailty, Urg'd by desert and greatness of the Lover ; So far (Divine OctaviaX) may my Queen Stand ev'n excused to you, for loving him, Who is your Lord : so far, from brave Ventidius, May her past actions hope a fair report.
Ant. 'Tis well, and truly spoken : mark, Ventidius.
Alex. To you, most Noble Emperor, her strong passion Stands not excus'd, but wholly justified. Her Beauty* s charms alone, without her Crown, From Ind and Meroe drew the distant Vows Of sighing Kings ; and at her feet were laid The Scepters of the Earth, exposed on heaps. To choose where she would Reign : She thought a Roman only could deserve her ; And, of all Romans^ only Antony. And, to be less than Wife to you, disdained Their lawful passion.
Ant. *Tis but truth.
Alex. And yet, tho love, and your unmatched desert, Have drawn her from the due regard of Honor, At last, Heav*n openM her unwilling eyes To see the wrongs she offer'd fair Octavia^ Whose holy Bed she lawlessly usurpt.
DRYDEN~-^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT IV 455
The sad eflfects of this improsperous War, Confirmed those pious thoughts.
Ven, aside, O, wheel you there ? Observe him now ; the Man begins to mend, And talk substantial reason. Fear not, Eunuch, The Emperor has giv'n thee leave to speak.
Alex, Else had I never dar'd t' offend his ears With what the last necessity has ui^'d On my forsaken Mistress ; yet I must not Presume to say her heart is wholly alter* d.
Ant. No, dare not for thy life, I charge thee dare not, Pronounce that fatal word.
Octav, aside. Must I bear this ? good Heav'n afford me patience.
Ven, On, sweet Eunuch ; my dear half man, proceed.
Alex. Yet Dollabella Has loVd her long, he, next my God-like Lord, Deserves her best ; and should she meet his passion. Rejected, as she is, by him she lov'd
Ant, Hence, from my sight ; for I can bear no more : Let Furies drag thee quick to Hell ; let all The longer damnM have rest ; each torturing hand Do thou employ, till Cleopatra comes. Then joyn thou too, and help to torture her. [Exit Alexas, thrust out by Antony.
Octav, *Tis not well, Indeed, my Lord, 'tis much unkind to me, To show this passion, this eztream concernment For an abandoned, faithless Prostitute.
Ant, Octavia^ leave me : I am much disordered. Leave me, I say.
Octav. My Lord ?
Ant, I bid you leave me.
Ven, Obey him, Madam : best withdraw a while, And see how this will work.
Octav, Wherein have I offended you, my Lord, That I am bid to leave you ? Am I false. Or infamous ? Am I a CleopcUra ? Were I she.
Base as she is, you would not bid me leave you ; But hang upon my neck, take slight excuses. And fawn upon my falshood.
Ant, 'Tis too much. Too much, Octavia ; I am prest with sorrows Too heavy to be bom ; and you add more : I would retire, and recollect what's left Of Man within, to aid me.
Octav, You would mourn In private, for your Love, who has betray' d you ; You did but half return to me : your kindness Lingered behind with her. I hear, my Lord,
4S6
APPENDIX
Yoa make Conditions for her,
And would include her Treaty. Wondrous proofs
Of love to me !
Ant, Are you my Friend, Venddius ? Or are you turned a DoUabella too, And let this Fury loose ?
Ven, Oh, be advis'd. Sweet Madam, and retire.
Ociav, Yes, I will go ; but never to return. You shall no more be haunted with this Fury. My Lord, my Lord, love will not always last, When urg'd with long unkindness, and disdain ; Take her again whom you prefer to me ; She stays but to be call'd. Poor cozen* d Man ! Let a feign'd parting give her back your heart. Which a feign'd love first got ; for injur'd me, Tho' my just sense of wrongs forbid my stay. My duty shall be yours. To the dear pledges of our former love. My tenderness and care shall be transferred. And they shall cheer, by turns, my Widow* d Nights : So, take my last farewel ; for I despair To have you whole, and scorn to take you half. [Exit,
Ven, I combat Heav*n, which blasts my best designs: My last attempt must be to win her back ; But Oh, I fear in vain. [Exit,
Ant, Why was I fram'd with this plain honest heart. Which knows not to disguise its griefs and weakness. But bears its workings outward to the World ? I should have kept the mighty anguish in. And forc'd a smile at Cleopatra's falshood: Octavia had believ'd it, and had staid ; But I am made a shallow-forded Stream, Seen to the bottom : all my clearness scom'd.
And all my faults expos* d ! See, where he comes
Enter DoUabella. Who has prophan'd the Sacred Name of Friend, And worn it into vileness ! With how secure a brow, and specious form He guilds the secret Villain ! Sure that face Was meant for honesty ; but Heav'n mis-match*d it. And fumish'd Treason out with Natures pomp. To make its work more easie.
Dolla, O, my Friend !
Ant, Well, DoUabella^ you perform*d my message?
Dolla, I did, unwillingly.
Ant, Unwillingly ? Was it so hard for you to bear our parting ? You should have wisht it.
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT IV 4^^
Do/la. Why?
An/, Because you love me. And she received my message, with as true. With as unfeigned a sorrow, as you brought it ?
DoUa, She loves you, ev'n to madness.
Ant, Oh, I know it. You, Dollabella, do not better know How much she loves me. And should I Forsake this Beauty ? This all-perfect Creature ?
Dolla, I could not, were she mine.
Ant. And yet you first Pers waded me : how come you alter* d since ?
Dolla, I said at first I was not fit to go ; I could not hear her sighs, and see her tears. But pity must prevail : and so, perhaps, It may again with you ; for I have promised That she should take her last farewel : and, see, She comes to claim my word.
Enter Cleopatra.
Ant, False Dollabella !
Dolla. What's false, my Lord ?
Ant. Why, Dollabella's false. And Cleopatra's false ; both false and faithless. Draw near, you welUjoin'd wickedness, you Serpents, Whom I have, in my kindly bosom, warm'd Till I am stung to death.
Dolla. My Lord, have I Deserved to be thus us'd ?
CUop, Can Heav'n prepare A newer Torment ? Can it find a Curse Beyond our separation ?
Ant. Yes, if Fate Be just, much greater : Heav'n should be ingenious In punishing such crimes. The rowling Stone, And gnawing Vulture, were slight pains, invented When Jove was young, and no examples known Of mighty ills ; but you have ripen'd sin To such a monstrous gro¥rth, 'twill pose the Gods To find an equal Torture. Two, two such.
Oh there's no farther name, two such to me.
To me, who lock'd my Soul within your breasts,
Had no desires, no joys, no life, but you ;
When half the Globe was mine, I gave it you
In Dowry with my heart ; I had no use.
No fruit of all, but you : a Friend and Mistress
Was what the World could give. Oh, Cleopatra I
Oh, Dollabella ! how could you betray
This tender heart, which with an Infant-fondness
Lay lull'd betwixt your bosoms, and there slept
458
APPENDIX
Secure of injur'd Faith ?
DoUa, If she has wrong'd you, Heav'n, Hell, and You revenge it
Ant, If she wrong* d me. Thou wouldst evade thy part of guilt ; but swear Thou lov*st not her.
Dolla, Not so as I love you.
Ant. Not so ! Swear, swear, I say, thou dost not love her.
Dolla, No more than Friendship will allow.
Ant, No more ?
Friendship allows thee nothing : thou art perjured.
And yet thou didst not swear thou lov'dst her not; But not so much, no more. Oh trifling Hypocrite, Who dar'st not own to her thou dost not love. Nor own to me thou dost ! Vetitidius heard it; Octmtia saw it
Cleop, They are enemies.
Ant, Alexas is not so : he, he confest it ; He, who, next Hell, best knew it, he avovr'd it ( To DoL) Why do I seek a proof beyond 3roar self ? You whom I sent to bear my last Farewel, Return' d to plead her stay.
Dolla, What shall I answer? If to have lov'd be guilt, then I have sinn'd; But if to have repented of that love Can wash away my crime, I have repented. Yet, if I have offended past forgiveness. Let not her sufler : she is innocent.
Cleop, Ah, what will not a Woman do who loves I What means will she refuse, to keep that heart Where all her joys are placed ! *Twas I encouraged, 'Twas I blew up the fire that scorch'd his Soul, To make you jealous ; and by that regain you. But all in vain ; I could not counterfeit : In spight of all the damms, my love broke o'er, And drown' d my heart again : Fate took th' occasion ; And thus one minutes feigning has destroy* d My whole life's truth.
Ant. Thin Cobweb Arts of Falshood ; Seen, and broke through at first
Dolla, Forgive your Mistress.
Cleop. Forgive your Friend.
Ant, You have con vine' d your selves. You plead each others Cause : Wliat Witness have you. That you but meant to raise my jealousie ?
Cleop, Our selves, and Heav'n.
Ant, Guilt witnesses for guilt. Hence, Love and Friendship ; You have no longer place in humane breasts. These two have driv'n you out : avoid my sight ;
DRYDEN^-ALL FOR LOVE, ACT IV 459
I would not kill the Man whom I lov*d ; And cannot hurt the Woman ; but avoid me, I do not know how long I can be tame ; For, if I stay one minute more to think How I am wrong'd, my Justice and Revenge I Will cry so loud within me, that my pity ^ Will not be heard for either.
Dolla, Heav'n has but Our sorrow for our sins ; and then delights To pardon erring Man : sweet Mercy seems Its darling Attribute, which limits Justice ; As if there were degrees in Infinite ; And Infinite would rather want perfection Than punish to extent.
Ant. I can forgive A Foe ; but not a Mistress, and a Friend : Treason is there in its most horrid shape, Where truth is greatest : and the Soul resigned Is stabbed by its own Guards : I* 11 hear no more ; Hence from my sight, for ever.
CUop, How ? for ever ! I cannot go one moment from your sight, And must I go for ever ? My joys, my only joys are center* d here : What place have I to go to ? my own Kingdom ? That I have lost for you : or to the Romans ? They hate me for your sake : or must I wander The wide World o'er, a helpless, banish' d Woman, Banish*d for love of you ; banish'd from you ; I, there's the Banishment ! Oh hear me ; hear me, With strictest Justice : for I beg no favour : And if I have offended you, then kill me, But do not banish me.
Ant. I must not hear you. I have a Fool within me takes your part ; But Honour stops my ears.
Chop. For pity hear me ! Wou'd you cast off a Slave who follow* d you.
Who crouch* d beneath your Spurn ? He has no pity I
See, if he gives one tear to my departure ; One look, one kind farewel : Oh Iron heart ! Let all the Gods look down, and judge betwixt us. If he did ever love !
Anth. No more : Alexas \
Dolla, A peijur'd Villain 1
Anth, to Cleop. Your Alexas ; yours.
CUop. O 'twas his plot : his ruinous design T' ingage you in my love by jealousie. Hear him ; confront him with me ; let him speak.
46o APPENDIX
Antk, I have; I have.
Cleop, And if he clear me not
Ant. Your Creature ! one who hangs upon your smiles t Watches your eye to say or to unsay Whatever you please ! I am not to be mov* d.
CUop. Then must we part? Farewel, my cruel Lord, Th' appearance is against me ; and I go Unjustified, for ever from your sight How I have lov'd, you know ; how yet I love. My only comfort is, I know my self : I love you more, ev^n now you are unkind, Than when you lov'd me most ; so well, so truly, I'll never strive against it ; but die pleas'd To think you once were mine.
Ant, Good Heav'n, they weep at parting. Must I weep too? that calls 'em innocent. I must not weep ; and yet I must, to think
That I must not forgive.
Live ; but live wretched, 'tis but just you shou'd.
Who made me so : Live from each others sight :
Let me not hear you meet : Set all the Earth,
And all the Seas, betwixt your sundered Loves :
View nothing common but the Sun and Skys :
Now, all take several ways;
And each your own sad fate with mine deplore ;
That you were false, and I could trust no more. [Exeunt seoer^y.
Act. V.
Cleopatra, CAarmian, Iras.
Char, Be juster, Heav'n : such virtue punish'd thus. Will make us think that Chance rules all above. And shuffles, with a random hand, the Lots Which Man is forc'd to draw.
Cleop. I cou'd tear out these e3res, that gain'd his heart. And had not pow'r to keep it. O the curse Of doting on, ev'n when I find it Dotage ! Bear witness, Gods, you heard him bid me go; You whom he mock'd with imprecating Vows
Of promis*d Faith. I'll die, I will not bear it.
You may hold me. [She pulls out her Dagger^ and they hold her.
But I can keep my breath ; I can die inward, And choak this Love.
Enter Alezas. . Iras. Help, O Alexas, help ! The Queen grows desperate, her Soul struggles in her, With all the Agonies of Love and Rage, And strives to force its passage.
Cleop, Let me go. Art thou there, Traitor ! O,
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT V 461
O, for a little breath, to vent my rage !
Give, give me way, and let me loose upon him.
Alex. Yes, I deserve it, for my ill-tim'd truth. Was it for me to prop The Ruins of a falling Majesty ? To place my self beneath the mighty flaw. Thus to be crushed, and pounded into Atomes, By its o'erwhelming weight? 'Tis too presuming For Subjects, to preserve that wilful pow*r Which courts its own destruction.
Cleop, I wou'd reason More calmly with you. Did not you o'er-rule, And force my plain, direct, and open love Into these crooked paths of jealousie ? Now, what's th' event? Octavia is removed ; But Cleopatrcfs banished. Thou, thou, Villain, Has pushed my Boat, to open Sea; to prove. At my sad cost, if thou canst steer it back. It cannot be ; I*m lost too far; I'm ruin'd :
Hence, thou Impostor, Traitor, Monster, Devil.
I can no more : thou, and my griefs, have sunk Me down so low, that I want voice to curse thee.
Alex. Suppose some shipwrack'd Seaman near the shore, Dropping and faint, with climbing up the Cliff, If, from above, some charitable hand Pull him to safety, hazarding himself To draw the others weight; wou'd he look back And curse him for his pains ? The case is yours ; But one step more, and you have gain*d the heighth.
Cleop, Sunk, never more to rise.
Alex, Octavia^ % gone, and Dollabella banish' d. Believe me. Madam, Antony is yours. His heart was never lost ; but started off To Jealousie, Love's last retreat and covert : Where it lies hid in Shades, watchful in silence. And list'ning for the sound that calls it back. Some other, any man, ('tis so advanc'd) May perfect this unfinish'd work, which I (Unhappy only to my self ) have left So easie to his hand.
Cleop, Look well thou do't ; else
Alex, Else, what your silence threatens. Antony
Is mounted up the Pharos ; from whose Turret, He stands surveying our Egyptian Gallies, Engag'd with Casar's Fleet : now Death, or Conquest. If the first happen, Fate acquits my promise : If we o'ercome, the Conqueror is yours.
A distant Shout within.
Char, Have comfort. Madam : did you mark that Shout ?
W»mi .riiif Iraf. \^nt\ '. -hpy rMmftol« it. Af^r. Ti* (mm th«» IViff. Th^ IrtMfin^* show^ ir n«ir : .4iooKi
'7/«»^. -Orfr^f lAftlcff iC SO.
.^^*'^. \Vh«iT^. ^«fln^5 the Qnern?
/fZ-^r. Hotr rdi»btfnlly the holy O ^^ f iw%r ypt r^ovfT'i -"if th* aMMiitr \^ni^*i ill -n^ ^Hvi^^ md T:»h«l'> laore dear Uk Win <*>f|l-Ting» '.r»tw* at >4ake.
'^■''''/T^. O hoftw, hormr! ^f/p' W^^ hwMn ; 'vir Infest hoar is come : TTt^ ^/n^-^n <^f .Vnf i/>n< from her ancient saflL N .^nnV r«^ ^v*T in the ri«rW Anyss: Tim^ h*«i titm>w!M Her ^rlories to rlie laiC, AM now do«M t>^ the V'>)ome.
f5«y, vrh^nr* (V^ frtm'«r, (thoo^ Fate is in tfar WM<^h frvMVi fhy yatfg^tA fjtn looki wildly oat. AM fhr^t^TW ef(? fhow !i]pesk\<c. ) .<>^4'/. f A<ittt** fr<ym PhatM ; Tfffm ff^wrf»f /«pitr^ m« sM imi^iie it)
</^^/ Vnminf^hM 7
r/..^/ th^fi thfy nM.
tVuh J^h^Mt't y*Mif w#«ll iit>tKilnlf(l Fleet t^H«v »M*» ( MHtt |hrit«i )i# WHvM hit hsDd DO high, A»i»^ ♦l^ft**** will* i>HiM»tfu) i*flr« ihry thoated back : ' Vwit* I^Hn ^«)^ I^MHMh<>« likr ft fftwning Stimiipet,
\W*kkk \s* Imvki »>♦♦• tU»tktM|i| h\Hti^ftl,
WuU ^ «Ui«^4«tk«t«H\ •HtiU wviiM ki« ftt {Murtioig, Hy^ U»i*k lx^**H ^¥¥«^ t^nk* Hv»w MtKHtthly nm
^Hvy^i\ xii I1H.V >v*v*^K^ ^.N4«4 ^«VH^ 4mi Wl behind
>\H«^«4 *■ \hti( iN««'^*, *ou*- %vi< XMtfK >ilN|«^ ..
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT V 463
Thrice he attempted headlong to have fain Full on his foes, and aim'd at Casat's Galley : With-held, he raves on you ; cries, He's betray'd. Should he now find you.
Alex, Shun him, seek your safety, Till you can clear your innocence.
CUop, I'll sUy.
Alex, You must not, haste you to your Monument, While I make speed to Casar,
Clecp, Casar ! No, I have no business with him.
AUx, I can work him To spare your life, and let this madman perish.
Cleop, Base fawning Wretch ! wouldst thou betray him too ? Hence from my sight, I will not hear a Trajrtor ; 'Twas thy design brought all this mine on us ; Serapion^ thou art honest ; counsel me : But haste, each moment's precious.
Strap, Retire ; you must not yet see Antony, He who began this mischief, 'Tis just he tempt the danger : let him clear you ; And, since he offer* d you his servile tongue, To gain a poor precarious life from Casar^ Let him expose that fawning eloquence, And speak to Antony,
Alex, O Heavens ! I dare not, I meet my certain death.
Cleop, Slave, thou deserv'st it Not that I fear my Lord, will I avoid him ; I know him noble : when he banish'd me. And thought me false, he scom'd to take my life ; But I'll be justifi'd, and then die with him.
Alex, O pity me, and let me follow you.
CUop, To death, if thou stir hence. Speak, if thou canst. Now for thy life, which basely thou wou'dst save ; While mine I prize at this. Come, good Serapion,
[Exeunt Qeop. Serap. Char. Iras.
Alex, O that I less cou'd fear to lose this being, Which, like a Snow-ball, in my coward hand. The more 'tis grasp'd, the faster melts away. Poor Reason ! what a wretched aid art thou ! For still, in spigbt of thee, These two long Lovers, Soul and Body, dread Their final separation. Let me think : What can I say, to save my self from death ? No matter what becomes of Cleopatra,
Ant, within. Which way ? where ?
Ven, within. This leads to th' Monument.
Alex. Ah me ! I hear him ; yet I'm unprepar'd :
464 APPENDIX
My gift of lying's gone ;
And this Court- Devil, which I so oft have rais'd. Forsakes me at my need. I dare not stay ;
Yet cannot far go hence. [Exit,
Enter Antony and Ventidius.
Ant, O happy Casar ! Thou hast men to lead : Think not 'tis thou hast conquer'd Antony ; But Rome has conquer'd Egypt. I'm betray'd.
Ven, Curse on this treach'rous Train ! Their Soil and Heav'n infect 'em all with baseness; And their young Souls come tainted to the World With the first breath they draw.
Ant, Th' original Villain sure no God created ; He was a Bastard of the Sun, by Nile, Ap'd into Man ; with all his Mother's Mud Crusted about his Soul.
Ven, The Nation is One Universal Traitor ; and their Queen The very Spirit and Extract of 'em all.
Ant, Is there yet left A possibility of aid from Valor ? Is there one God unsworn to my Destruction ? The least unmortgag'd hope ? for, if there be, Methinks I cannot fall beneath the Fate Of such a Boy as Casar, The World's one half is yet in Antony ; And, from each limb of it that's hew'd away. The Soul comes back to me.
Ven, There yet remain Three Legions in the Town. The last assault Lopt off the rest : if death be your design, (As I must wish it now) these are sufficient To make a heap about us of dead Foes, An honest Pile for burial.
Ant, They're enough. We'll not divide our Stars ; but side by side Fight emulous : and with malicious eyes Survey each other's acts : so every death Thou giv'st, I'll take on me, as a just debt. And pay thee back a Soul.
Ven, Now you shall see I love you. Not a word Of chiding more. By my few hours of life, I am so pleas' d with this brave Roman Fate, That I wou'd not be Casar^ to out-live you. When we put off this flesh, and mount together, I shall be shown to all th' Etherial crowd ; Lo, this is he who dy'd with Antony.
Ant. Who knows but we may pierce through all their Troops, And reach my Veterans yet ? 'Tis worth the tempting.
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT V 465
.T o'er-leap this Gnlph of Fate,
And leave our wond'ring Destinies behind.
Enter Alexas, trembling,
Ven, See, see, that Villain; See Cleopatra stampt upon that face, With all her cunning, all her arts of fakhood ! How she looks out through those dissembling eyes t How he has set his countenance for deceit * And promises a lye, before he speaks ! Let me dispatch him first [Drawings
Alex, O, spare me, spare me.
Ant, Hold ; he's not worth your killing. On thy life, (Which thou may'st keep, because I scorn to take it) No syllable to justifie thy Queen ; Save thy base tongue its office.
Alex, Sir, she's gone. Where she shall never be molested more By Love, or you.
Ant, Fled to her DoUabella ! Die, Traitor, I revoke my promise, die. [Gcittg to kill him,
Alex, O hold, she is not fled.
Ant. She is : my eyes Are open to her falshood ; my whole life Has been a golden dream, of Love and Friendship. But, now I wake, I*m like a Merchant, rows' d From soft repose, to see his Vessel sinking, And all his Wealth cast o'er. Ingrateful Woman I Who follow'd me, but as the Swallow Summer, Hatching her young ones in my kindly Beams, Singing her flatt'ries to my morning wake ; But, now my Winter comes, she spreads her wings. And seeks the Spring of Casar,
Alex, Think not so : For Fortunes have, in all things, mixt with 3rourB. Had she betray' d her Naval force to Rome, How easily might she have gone to Casar, Secure by such a bribe !
Ven, She sent it first. To be more welcome after.
Ant, 'Tis too plain ; Else wou'd she have appeared, to clear her self.
Alex, Too fatally she has ; she could not bear To be accus'd by you ; but shut her self Within her Monument : look'd down, and sigh'd ; While, from her unchanged face, the silent tears Dropt, as they had not leave, but stole their parting. Some undistinguished words she inly murmur'd ; At last, she rais'd her eyes ; and, with such looks As dying Lucrece cast,
30
466 APPENDIX
Ant, M J heart forebodes.'
Ven. All for the best : go on.
Alex, She snatch'd her Ponyard, And, ere we cou'd prevent the fatal blow, Plung'd it within her breast ; then turned to me. Go, bear my Lord (said she) my last Farewel ; And ask him if he yet suspect my Faith. More she was saying, but death rushM betwixt. She half pronounced your Name with her last breath. And bury'd half within her.
Ven, Heav'n be praised.
Ant, Then art thou innocent, my poor dear Love ? And art thou dead ?
0 those two words t their sound shou'd be divided : Hadst thou been false, and dy*d ; or hadst thou livM,
And hadst been true . But Innocence and Death !
This shows not well above. Then what am I,
The Murderer of this Truth, this Innocence ! Thoughts cannot form themselves in words so horrid As can express my guilt !
Ven, Is't come to this ? The Gods have been too gracious ; And thus you thank 'em for't
Ant, to Alex, Why stay*st thou here ? Is it for thee to spy upon my Soul, And see its inward mourning ? Get thee hence ; Thou art not worthy to behold, what now Becomes a Roman Emperor to perform.
Alex, aside. He loves her still : His grief betrays it. Good ! The joy to find She's yet alive, compleats the reconcilement I've sav'd my self, and her. But, Oh ! the Romans 1 Fate comes too fast upon my Wit, Hunts me too hard, and meets me at each double. [Exit,
Ven, Wou'd she had dy'd a little sooner tho. Before Ociavia went ; you might have treated : Now 'twill look tame, and wou'd not be receiv'd. Come, rouze your self, and lets die warm together.
Ant, I will not fight ; there's no more work for War. The bus'ness of my angry hours is done.
Ven, Casar is at your Gates.
Ant, Why, let him enter ; He's welcom now.
Ven, What Lethargy has crept into your Soul ?
Ant. 'Tis but a scorn of life, and just desire To free my self from bondage.
Ven, Do it bravely.
Ani, I will ; but not by fighting. O, Ventidius ! What shou'd I fight for now ? My Queen is dead.
1 was but great for her ; my Pow'r, my Empire,
DRYDEN^ALL FOR LOVE, ACT V 467
Were but my Merchandise to buy her love ;
And conquer'd Kings, my Factors. Now she's dead,
Let Otsar Uke the World,
An Empty Circle, since the Jewel's gone
Which made it worth my strife : my being's nauseous ;
For all the bribes of life are gone away.
Ven, Wou'd you be taken ?
Ant, Yes, I wou'd be taken ; But, as a Roman ought, dead, my Ventidius : For I'll convey my Soul from Casar's reach. And lay down life my self. 'Tis time the World Shou'd have a Lord, and know whom to obey. We two have kept its homage in suspense. And bent the Globe on whose each side we trod. Till it was dinted inwards : Let him walk Alone upon 't; I'm weary of my part My Torch is out ; and the World stands before me Like a black Desart, at th' approach of night : I'll lay me down, and stray no farther on.
Ven. I cou'd be griev*d. But that I'll not out-live you : choose your death ; For, I have seen him in such various shapes, I care not which I take ; I'm only troubled The life I bear, is worn to such a rag, 'Tis scarce worth giving. I cou'd wish indeed We threw it from us with a better grace ; That, like two Lyons taken in the Toils, We might at least thrust out our paws, and wound The Hunters that inclose us.
Ant, I have thought on't Ventidius f you must live.
Ven, I must not. Sir.
Ant, Wilt thou not live, to speak some good of me? To stand by my fair Fame, and guard th' approaches From the ill Tongues of Men ?
Ven. Who shall guard mine. For living after you ?
Ant, Say, I command it
Ven. If we die well, our deaths will speak themselves. And need no living witness.
Ant. Thou hast lov'd me. And fain I wou'd reward thee: I must die ; Kill me, and take the merit of my death To make thee Friends with Casar.
Ven. Thank your kindness. You said I lov'd you ; and, in recompence, You bid me turn a Traitor : did I think You wou'd have us'd me thus? that I shou'd die With a hard thought of you ?
468 APPENDIX
Ant, Forgive me, Roman. Since I have heard of CUopaira^^ death, My reason bears no rule upon my tongue, But lets my thoughts break all at random out : I've thought better ; do not deny me twice.
Vitn, By Heav'n, I will not Let it not be t' out-live you.
Ant, Kill me Brst, And then die thou : for *tis but just thou serve Thy Friend, before thy self.
Ven, Give me your hand. We soon shall meet again. Now, Farewel, Emperor. [Etnhrace,
Methinks that word's too cold to be my last: Since Death sweeps all distinctions, Farewel, Friend.
That's all.
I will not make a bus'ness of a trifle :
And yet I cannot look on you, and kill you ;
Pray turn your face.
Ant, I do : strike home be sure.
Ven, Home, as my Sword will reach. [^KiUs himself.
Ant, O, thou mistak'st ; That wound was none of thine : give it me back : Thou robb'st me of my death.
Ven, I do indeed ; But, think 'tis the first time I e'er deceiv'd you; If that may plead my pardon. And you, Gods, Forgive me, if you will ; for I die perjur'd. Rather than kill my Friend. [Dies,
Ant, Farewel. Ever my Leader, eVn in death t My Queen and thou have got the start of me,
And Pm the lag of Honour. Gone so soon ?
Is death no more? He us'd him carelessly,
With a familiar kindness : ere he knock'd,
Ran to the door, and took him in his arms.
As who shou'd say, Y'are welcome at all hours,
A Friend need give no warning. Books had spoil'd him ;
For all the Leam'd are Cowards by profession.
*Tis not worth
My farther thought ; for death, for ought I know.
Is but to think no more. Here's to be satisfi'd. [Falls on his Sword,
I've mist my heart. O unperforming hand I
Thou never cou'dst have en'd in a worse time.
My Fortune jades me to the last ; and death,
Like a great Man, takes state, and makes me wait
For my admittance. [ TVampHng tpitAim,
Some perhaps from Casar :
If he shou'd find me living,and suspect
That I plaid booty with my life I I'll mend
My work, ere they can reach me. [Rises upon his hues.
DRYDEN—ALL FOR LOVE, ACT V 469
Enter Cleopatra, Charmion, Iras. CUop, "Where is my Lord ? where is he ? Char, There he lies. And dead Ventiditu by him.
Chop, My fears were Ptophets ; I am come too late.
0 that accursed Alexas I [Rum to him. Ant, Art thou living ?
Or am I dead before I knew ? and thou The first kind Ghost that meets me ?
CUop, Help me seat him. Send quickly, send for help. [ T^ey place Aim m a Chair.
Ant. I am answered. We live both. Sit thee down, my Cleopatra : 1*11 make the most I can of life, to stay A moment more with thee.
Cleop. How is it with you ?
Ant, 'Tis as with a man Removing in a hurry ; all pack'd up, But one dear Jewel that his haste forgot ; And he, for that, returns upon the spur : So I come back, for thee.
Cleop, Too long, you Heav'ns, you have been cruel to me ; Now show your mended Faith, and give me back His fleeting life.
Ant, It will not be, my Love.
1 keep my Soul by force. Say but thou art not false.
Cleop, 'Tis now too late To say I'm true : I'll prove It, and die with you. Unknown to me, Alexas feign' d my death : Which, when I knew, I hasted, to prevent This fatal consequence. My Fleet betray'd Both you and me.
Ant. And Dollabella,
Cleop, Scarce esteem'd before he loVd ; but hated now.
Ant, Enough : my life's not long enough for more. Thou sayst thou wilt come after : I believe thee ; For I can now believe whate'er thou sayst. That we may part more kindly.
Cleop. I will come : Doubt not, my life, I'll come, and quickly too : Casar shall triumph o'er no part of thee.
Ant. But grieve not, while thou stay'st My last disastrous times : Think we have had a clear and glorious day ; And Heav*n did kindly to delay the storm Just till our close of ev'ning. Ten years love. And not a moment lost, but all improv'd To th' utmost joys : What Ages have we liv'd ?
470
APPENDIX
And now to die each others ; and, so dying. While hand in hand we walk in Groves below, Whole Troops of Lovers Ghosts shall flock aboat us. And all the Train be ours.
Cleop. Your words are like the Notes of dying Swans, Too sweet to last. Were there so many hours For your unkindness, and not one for love ?
Ant, No, not a minute. This one kiss more worth
Than all I leave to Casar. [Du
Cleop, O, tell me so again, And take ten thousand kisses, for that word. My Lord, my Lord : speak, if you yet have being ; Sigh to me, if you cannot speak ; or cast One look : Do any thing that shows you live.
Iras, He's gone too far, to hear you ; And this you see, a lump of sensless Clay, The leavings of a Soul.
Char, Remember, Madam, He charg'd you not to grieve.
Cleop. And I'll obey him. I have not lov'd a Roman not to know What should become his Wife ; his Wife, my Ckarmion ; For 'tis to that high Title I aspire, And now I'll not die less. Let dull Octavia Survive, to mourn him dead : my Nobler Fate Shall knit our Spousals with a tie too strong For Roman Laws to break.
Iras. Will you then die ?
Cleop, Why shou'dst thou make that question ?
Iras, Casar is merciful.
Cleop, Let him be so To those that want his mercy : my poor Lord Made no such Covenant with him, to spare me When he was dead. Yield me to Otsar'% pride ? What, to be led in triumph through the Streets, A spectacle to base Plebeian eyes ; While some dejected Friend of Antony t^ Qose in a comer, shakes his head, and mutters A secret curse on her who niin'd him ? I'll none of that.
Char, Whatever you resolve, I'll follow ev'n to death.
Iras. I only fear'd For you ; but more shon'd fear to live without yoa.
Cleop. Why, now 'tis as it shou'd be. Quick, my Friends, Dispatch ; ere this, the Town's in Casar' s hands : My Lord looks down concern' d, and fears my stay. Lest I shou'd be surpriz'd ; Keep him not waiting for his love too long.
DRYDEN—ALL FOR LOVE, ACT V 471
You, Charmion, bring my Crown and richest Jewels, With *em, the Wreath of Victory I made (Vain Augury !) for him who now lies dead; You, Iras, bring the cure of all our ills.
Iras, The Aspicks, Madam?
Cleop, Must I bid you twice ? [Exeunt Char, tmd Iras.
'Tis sweet to die, when they wou'd force life on me, To rush into the dark aboad of death. And seize him first ; if he be like my Love, He is not frightful sure. We're now alone, in secresie and silence ; And is not this like Lovers ? I may kiss These pale, cold lips ; Octarna does not see me ; And, Oh ! 'tis better far to have him thus,
Than see him in her arms. O welcome, welcome.
Enter Charmion, Iras.
Char, What must be done ?
Cleop, Short Ceremony, Friends ; But yet it must be decent. Plrst, this Laurel Shall crown my Hero's head : he fell not basely, Nor left his Shield behind him. Only thou Cou'dst triumph o'er thy self; and thou alone Wert worthy so to triumph.
Char. To what end These Ensigns of your Pomp and Royalty ?
Cleop, Dull, that thou art ! why, 'tis to meet my LoTe; As when I saw him first, on Cydnos bank, All sparkling, like a Goddess ; so adom'd, I'll find him once again : my second Spousals Shall match my first, in Glory. Haste, haste, both, And dress the Bride of Antony,
Char. 'Tis done.
Cleop, Now seat me by my Lord. I claim this place ; For I must conquer desar too, like him. And win my share o'th' World. Hail, you dear Relicks Of my Immortal Love ! O let no Impious hand remove you hence ; But rest for ever here : let Egypt give His death that peace, which it deny'd his life. Reach me the Casket
Iras, Underneath the fruit the Aspick lies.
Cleop, putting aside the leaves, Welcom, thou kind Deceiver ! Thou best of Thieves ; who, with an easie key. Dost open life, and, unperceiv'd by us, Ev'n steal us from our selves : discharging so Death's dreadful office, better than himself, Touching our limbs so gently into slumber, That Death stands by, deceiv'd by his own Image, And thinks himself but Sleep.
472 'APPENDIX
Scrap, within. The Queen, where is she? The Town is yielded, Otiat^h at the Gates.
CUop. He comes too late t* invade the Rights of Death. Haste, bare my Arm, and rouze the Serpent*s fury. \Hoids otU her Arm., amd
Coward Flesh dram it back.
Wou'dst thou conspire with Casar, to betray me,
As thou wert none of mine ? I'll force thee to't.
And not be sent by him,
But bring my self my Soul to Antony, [ Turns aside^ and then sJkams
Take hence ; the work is done. Jkcr Arm bUody„
Scrap, within. Break ope the door, And guard the Traitor well.
Char, The next is ours.
Ir€u, Now, Charmion^ to be worthy Of our great Queen and Mistress. [ They apply the Aspicks,
Cleop, Already, Death, I feel thee in my Veins ; I go with such a will to find my Lord, That we shall quickly meet. A heavy numness creeps through every limb. And now 'tis at my head : my eye-lids fall, And my dear Love is vanished in a mist Where shall I find him, where ? O turn me to him.
And lay me on his breast. Otsar^ thy worst ;
Now part us, if thou canst. (Dies,) Iras sinks down at her feei^ and dies;
Charmion stands behind her Chair ^ as dresdmg her head. Enter Serapion, two Priests, Alezas bounds Egyptians,
2 Priests, Behold, Serapion, what havock Death has made 1
Serap. *Twas what I fear'd. Charmion, is this well done ?
Char, Yes, 'tis well done, and like a Queen, the last Of her great Race : I follow her. [Sinks daam; Dies„
Alexas. 'Tis true. She has done well : much better thus to die. Than live to make a Iloly-day in Rome,
Serap. See, see how the Lovers sit in State together, As they were giving Laws to half Mankind. Th' impression of a smile left in her face, Shows she dy'd pleas' d with him for whom she liv'd. And went to charm him in another World. Oesar^s just entring ; grief has now no leisure. Secure that Villain, as our pledge of safety To grace th' Imperial Triumph. Sleep, blest Pair, Secure from humane chance, long Ages out, While all the Storms of Fate fly o'er your Tomb;
And Fame, to late Posterity, shall tell,
No Lovers liv'd so great, or dy'd so well.
[Hereupon follows an Epilogue, in about thirty lines, of purely local and taofo- rary interest.]
REMARKS ON ALL FOR LdVE—SCOTT
REMARKS OH ALL FOR LOVE
473
Sir Walter Scott {^Introduction to • All for Love,* Dryden's Works^ V, 287, London, 1808) : The first |x>int of comparison [between Shakespeare's Play and Dryden's] is the general conduct, or plot, of the tragedy. . . . Shakespeare, with the license peculiar to his age and character, had diffused the action of his play over Italy, Greece, and Egypt ; but Dryden, who was well aware of the advantage to be derived from a simplicity and concentration of plot, has laid every scene in the city of Alexandria. By this he guarded the audience from that vague and puzzling dis- traction which must necessarily attend a violent change of place. It is a mistake to suppose that the argument in favour of the unities depends upon preserving the deception of the scene ; they are necessarily connected with the intelligibility of the piece. It may be true, that no spectator supposes that the stage before him is actu- ally the court of Alexandria ; yet, when he has once made up his mind to let it pass as such during the representation, it is a cruel tax, not merely on his imagination, but on his powers of comprehension, if the scene be suddenly transferred to a dis- tant country. Time is lost before he can form new associations, and reconcile their bearings with those originally presented to him, and if he be a person of slow com- prehension, or happens to lose any part of the dialogrue, announcing the changes, the whole becomes unintelligible confusion. In this respect, and in discarding a num- ber of uninteresting characters, the plan of Dryden's play must be unequivocally preferred to that of Shakespeare in point of coherence, unity, and simplicity. It is a natural consequence of this more artful arrangement of the story, that Dryden con- tents himself with the concluding scene of Antony's history, instead of introducing the incidents of the war with Cneius Pompey, the negotiation with Lepidus, death of his first wife, and other circumstances, which, in Shakespeare, only tend to dis- tract our attention from the main interest of the drama. The unity of time, as necessary as that of place to the intelligibility of the drama, has, in like manner, been happily attained ; and an interesting event is placed before the audience with no other change of place, and no greater lapse of time, than can be readily adapted to an ordinary imagination. But, having given Dryden the praise of superior address in managing the story, I fear he must be pronounced in most other respects inferior to his grand prototype. Antony, the principal character in both plays, is incompar- ably grander in that of Shakespeare. The majesty and generosity of the military hero is happily expressed by both poets ; but the awful ruin of grandeur, undermined by passion, and tottering to its fall, is far more striking in the Antony of Shake- speare. Love, it is true, is the predominant, but it is not the sole ingredient in his character. It has usurped possession of his mind, but is assailed by his original pas- sions, ambition of power, and thirst for military fame. He is, therefore, often, and it should seem naturally represented, as feeling for the downfall of his glory and power, even so intensely as to withdraw his thoughts from Cleopatra, unless con- sidered as the cause of his ruin. Thus, in the scene in which he compares himself to 'black Vesper's pageants,' he runs on in a train of fantastic and melancholy similes, having relation only to his fallen state, till the mention of Egypt suddenly recalls the idea of Cleopatra. But Dryden has taken a different view of Antony's character, and more closely approaching to his title of All for Love, * He seems not now that awful Antony.' His whole thoughts and being are dedicated to his fatal passion; and though a spark of resentment is occasionally struck out by the reproaches of Ventidius, he instantly relapses into love-sick melancholy. The fol-
I
! 1
474 APPENDIX
lowing bcantifiil speech exhibits the romauice of despuring low, witbwit the deep and mingled passion of a dishooonred soldier, and dethxooed laipcim : [^AIZ fjr Letr : * Am/. Lie there, tboa shadow of an Emperor. . . . And take lae lor their ' fellow-citizen,* p. 417.] Even when Antonj is 6nallj niiaed, the power of jealouf is called opon to complete his despair, and be is less sen5fDt« to the idtx cf Cjesh's soccesaful arms thia to the risque of Dolabella's riTalling him in the afiecdoos of Cleopatra. It is true, the Antonj of Shakespeare alio starts iaa> forr, spon Qco- 1 patra permitting Thyreus to k;ss her hand ; bat this is not jeakxuy ; it is pride
^ ofiended, that she, fjr whom he had sacrificed his glory and emptre, shoold x'readj
I begin to cooit the firoor of the cooqLieror, and rcachsafe her haad to be qlntrd br
* a 'jack of Cesar's.* Hence Eoobarbos, the witness of the scene, alludes ioHBe-
J diatelr to the fizrj of mortified ambition and filling power : * 'Tis teller plajTcg widi
'i *a Ix>n*s wbelp. Than with an old one dring.' . . . Having, however, adopted an
of .\ntonT's character, rather saitable to romance than to namre, or hisaorr, wi _ not deny Drrxien the praise of haxin^ ex laisitelr brooght oct the pictsxe he irrfrwVd
to draw. He has infcrmed cs, that th;s was the on.T play written to ptease himself; and he has certainly exerted in it the iH force of h^ incomparable gefiiiUk. Antoay is throogbout the piece what the author meant him to be : a ricda to the oomipottBoe of love, cr rather to dte infatnation of oce en^jossiiig pasticci.
In the Qecpatra of Dryden, there ts grraily less spcric and ongtnaliry thaa in Shakespeare's^ The preparat»n of the latter for death has a grandeor whica pics to shame the same scene in Dryien, and serves to support the inierest dsris^ the whoSe fifth act. ai:hcQgh Antony has died in the cooclusioa of the kxxnh. No cxrciSBStaace can more highly ericce the power of Shakespeare's genius, in sptc of his crregvlsr- ities : sicce the coodsskxi in Dryden. where both Lorers di^ in the same sccoe, and after a recmciliadon, is innnitely more artfol ard becer adai^ted to thearzical esect. In the character cf Venlidiiiiw Dryden has tilled op, witi ability, the rwie sketches which Shakespeare has thrown oc in those of Scrra [a.-] scd Eros. Tbe lo^gh old Roman soldier is pamted with great trzth ; and the qaarrri betwixt him and Antony, en the first act, is eqoal t^ any sicgie sceae thai ccr aathoc ever wtaie, excepting, perhaps^ that becw;xt Sebosrsn and Donx ; an ocinkm in which the jodgment of the critic cnrnn-n-les with rhar of the poet. It is a pity, as has often bees remarked, that this dalogce occurs so early in the pl^y, since what follows is Deoe»> sanbr inJierior in force. Drrden. while writing this vmr, had saqacstMoablT m his recouectwn the «^aarrel betwixt Btucns ami CasRss, whkh was jcsdy so grvit a £iToante in his time, and to which he had referred as inimitahle ia his pfokgne IP Amrmj-Zif&i^. The inferior characters are better sapported in Drrdea Aaa ia We have 00 Lew baabooiezy in the fixtoez. soch as disgraces Eao- asd is hardly redeeased by his aSectxng cacutzoche. Even the Egvpcaa ALexas acqoizcs seme respectability, ftcm. hts patnoCic attachment to the iniBests of his ccimtry. and firuot his skill as a w«ly ccortxer. ... The Octarsa cf Drpdes is 1 Bra:h Dcce important pecsoooge thaa in the Am^mt smd Catpatr^ cf SkkeapOBC She KS«. however, nore ccui asd nsomiahl^ ; fix, ia the tczt short scenes in vixk dhf Octxrii cf Si^rakespeare arpears^ she is riaccd in r'^'^^^ aa intercsda^ point of rtew. Bat Dryden has himself inaamed «s> that he vrxs arprehemite the jasacerf a wifie* s daoB ttpoa her hsscaiKi wr:iui diaw dfee *'"^'^**^* to her side« aad kflCA ^Rtr tnierest ia the lever aod die mistresa. He seems acsorfiagfy to hare tfafiedlr Wweied the character cf the inpied *ZH:firviB« who. ia her '■■■*»**»«'^ tu^anli hs k^ much daCT aai Ixtde love : mi plaialT iiiiiiMii i_ Am ber reOiiafc ^
REMARKS ON ALL FOR ZC> FjE:— CAMPBELL 475
conduct flows from a due regard to her own reputation, rather than from attachment to Antony's person, or sympathy with him in his misfortunes. It happens, there- fore, with Octavia, as with all other very good selfish kind of people ; we think it uimecessary to feel any thing for her, as she is obviously capable of taking very good care of herself. I must not omit, that her scolding scene with Cleopatra, although anxiously justified by the author in the preface, seems too coarse to be in character, and is a glaring exception to the general good taste evinced throughout the rest of the piece. ... In judging betwixt these celebrated passages, [the descriptions by Shakespeare and by Dryden of Cleopatra on the Cydnus] we feel almost afraid to avow a preference of Dryden, founded partly upon the easy flow of the vexse, which seems to soften with the subject, but chiefly upon the beauty of the language and imagery, which is flowery without diflusiveness, and rapturous without hyperbole. I fear Shakespeare cannot be exculpated from the latter fault ; yet I am sensible, it is by sifting his beauties from his conceits that his imitator has been enabled to excel him. It is impossible to bestow too much praise on the beautiful passages which occur so frequently in All for Love, I content myself with extracting the sublime and terrific description of an omen presaging the downfall of Egypt [' Scrap, Last night, between the Hours of Twelve and One. . . . And so unfinished left the horrid Scene.* p. 412.]
T. Campbell (p. Ixi) : Dryden' s All for Love was regarded by himself as his masterpiece, and is by no means devoid of merit ; but so inferior is it to the prior drama, as to make it disgraceful to British taste for one hundred years that the former absolutely banished the latter from the stage. A French critic calls Great Britain the island of Shakspeare's idolaters ; yet so it happens, in this same island, that Dry- den's All for Love has been acted ten times oftener than Shakspeare's Antony and Cleopatra* Dryden' s Mark Antony is a weak voluptuary from first to last. Not a sentence of manly virtue is ever uttered by him that seems to come from himself ; and whenever he expresses a moral feeling, it appears not to have grown up in his own nature, but to have been planted there by the influence of his friend Ventidius, like a flower in a child's garden, only to withec and take no root. Shakspeare's Antony is a very different being. When he hears of the death of his first wife, Fulvia, his exclamation ' There's a great spirit gone I ' and his reflections on his own enthral- ment by Cleopatra, mark the residue of a noble mind. A queen, a siren, a Shak- speare's Cleopatra alone could have entangled Mark Antony, whilst an ordinary wanton could have enslaved Dryden's hero.
Mrs Jameson (ii, 170) : Dryden has committed a great mistake in bringing Octavia and her children on the scene, and in inmiediate contact with Qeopatra. To have thus violated the truth of history f might have been excusable, but to sacrifice the truth of nature and dramatic propriety, to produce a mere stage effect, was unpar- donable. In order to preserve the unity of interest, he has falsified the character of
* It ought to be kept in remembrance, nevertheless, that the inconstant represen- tations of a popular dramatic poet's pieces on the stage is not a proof of his popularity having expired, or being even on the decline. The frequenters of the theatre demand variety. Moliire is as much as ever a favourite of France, yet the pieces of other comic writers are oftener represented.
f Octavia was never in Egypt
4/6
APPENDIX
Octavia as well as that of Cleopatra : he has presented us with a regular scolding match between the rivals, in which they come sweeping up to each other from opposite sides of the stage, with their respective trains, like two pea-hens in a passion. Shakspeare would no more have brought his captivating, brilliant, but meretricious Qeopotra into immediate comparison with the noble and chaste simplicity of Octavia, than a con* noisseur in art would have placed Canova*s Dansatrice, beautiful as it is, beside the Athenian Melpomene, or the Vestal of the Capitol.
James Russell Lowell {Among my Books ^ p. 57, Boston, 1870) : All for Lavt is, in many respects, a noble play, and there are few finer scenes, whether in the conception or the carrying out, than that between Antony and Ventidius in the first act.
John Churton Collins (Essays and Studies^ p. 36, London, 1895) * 1*o <^<>™- pare All for Love with Antony and Cleopatra would be to compare works which, in all that pertains to the essence of poetry and tragedy, differ not in degree merely but in kind. And yet Dryden's tragedy, even from a dramatic point of view, is, with three or four exceptions, superior to anything produced by his contemporaries. If his Qeopatra is wretched, his Antony is powerfully sketched. The altercation between Antony and Ventidius, though modelled too closely on that between Brutus and Cassius in Julius Casar, is a noble piece of dialectical rhetoric, while the scene between Cleopatra and Octavia is perhaps finer than anything which the stage had seen since Massinger.
Thomas R. Lounsbury (Shakespeare as a Dramatic Artist, p. 97. New Yotk, 1901) : Dryden's whole play is made to turn upon the infatuation for QeopAtia which has taken possession of the Roman commander, and against the force of which the lo3ralty of Ventidius struggles to no purpose. There are few things said and fewer things done by Antony which remind us of the great general, of the dishoooied soldier, of the fallen master of half the world. He is little more than a sentimental love-sick swain, while the Egyptian queen has lost nearly every one of the character- istics with which she has impressed the ages, and is exhibited to us as displaying the behavior of a tender-hearted, affectionate, and wholly romantic school-gixi. Scott, who is at his worst in his comparison of this play with Shakespeare's, assures ns that its plan must be preferred to that of the latter's on the score of coherence, unity, and simplicity ; and, further, that as a consequence of the more artful arrangement of the story, the unity of time, like that of place, so necessary to the intelligibility of the drama, has been happily attained. It is the last assertion alone which con- cerns us here. How has this unity of time been attained ? It has been preserfed by the studious suppression of all reference whatever to its passage. Events ate crowded into it which history is not alone in assuring the scholar did not happen in the space assigned : common sense further assures everybody they could not ponhff so have happened. Numerous minor incidents, however important, are not oeott- sary to be considered in the examination of the play. But in this one day Antony goes out to fight a great batde. We only hear of it ; there is no representatioD of it On his return he reports that five thousand of his foes have been slain. As batdet go in this world, the mere despatching of so laige a number of men would encroadi heavily upon the time allotted. Further, at a later period in this one day, the EQfp* tian fieet sets out to attack the enemy. Instead of fighting the Romans it goes ovff
ENGLISH CRITICISMS-JOHNSON 477
to them. Then follow the consequences of defeat and despair. This is the happj attainment of the same old spurious unity of time, which cheats our understanding at the cost of our attention. Yet, though marked by these and other defects. Dry- den's play is, after its kind, an excellent one. There are in it passages of great power, which will explain the favor with which it has been held by many. Had its author been gifted with dramatic genius, as he was not, he would doubtless have made it far more effective. But under the limitations imposed by the critical canons he accepted, neither he nor any one else could have drawn the picture of life which we find in the wonderful corresponding creation of the great poet of human nature.
ENGLISH CRITICISM
Dr Johnson : This play keeps curiosity always busy, and the passions always inter- ested. The continual hurry of the action, the variety of incidents, and the quick suc- cession of one personage to another, call the mind forward without intermission from the first Act to the last. But the power of delighting is derived principally from the frequent changes of the scene ; for, except the feminine arts, some of which are too low, which distinguish Cleopatra, no character is very strongly discriminated. Upton, who did not easily miss what he desired to find, has discovered that the language of Antony is, with great skill and learning, made pompous and superb, according to his real practice. But I think his diction not distinguishable from that of others : the most tumid speech in the play is that which Caesar makes to Octavia. The events, of which the principal are described according to history, are produced without any art of connection or care of disposition.
W. Hazlitt (p. 95) : This is a very noble play. Though not in the first class of Shakespear's productions, it stands next to them, and is, we think, the finest of his Historical Plays, that is, of those in which he made poetry the organ of history, and assumed a certain tone of character and sentiment, in conformity to known facts, instead of trusting to his observations of general nature or to the unlimited indulgence of his own fancy. What he has added to the history, is upon a par with it. His genius was, as it were, a match for history as well as nature, and could grapple at will with either. This play is full of that pervading comprehensive power by which the poet could always make himself master of time and circumstances. It presents a fine picture of Roman pride and Eastern magnificence : and in the struggle between the two, the empire of the world seems suspended, 'like the swan's down-feather, 'That stands upon the swell at full of tide. And neither way inclines.' The char- acters breathe, move, and live. Shakespear does not stand reasoning on what his characters would do or say, but at once becomes them, and speaks and acts for them. He does not present us with groups of stage-puppets or poetical machines making set speeches on human life, and acting from a calculation of ostensible motives, but he brings living men and women on the scene, wl^o speak and act from real feelings, according to the ebbs and flows of passion, without the least tincture of the pedantry of logic or rhetoric. Nothing is made out by inference and analogy, by climax and antithesis, but every thing takes place just as it would have done in reality, according to the occasion.
(Page 102) : Shakespear's genius has spread over the whole play a richness like the overflowing of the Nile.
478
APPENDIX
T. Camfbcu. (p. Ixi) : 1/ 1 woe to idcct aar tntnriri? pisr of whidi be has axnbioed an almost Uteral fidditj to bistocr witk aa eqvaQj fiotbfid •dhcraice to the troth of natnre, and ia vhich he saperindaces die Berxt of skilM dramatic maaagcmect, it would be Auikamy ^mJ CUmpatr^. In hs pmliaiLcre of Antony there is, perhaps, a flattered irVenes» of the ORgmal by Ftotaz^ ; bnt die similitDde loses little of i:s strength bj Sbakspeare's u>ftmrng axad keeping in die shade his traits of cmeltj. In Qeopatra, we can dfvmi nochnig ■MrniaTly difieicut from the Toocbed historical sorceress; she DercrthelesB has a more Tpvid mftfotir and versatile plaj of enchantmert in Shakspeare^s Hkeness of her, than in a dooea of ocber portiral copies in which the artists took mach fpreatcr Hberties with hrstnriral trath : — he paints her as if the gypsy herself bad cast ber spell oiver him, and ber own wit^icxaft to his pennl At the same tfrre, pI^r^Qy interesting to oir as he makes this enchantress, he ke^K as far fircta a ridoos syaqiatby. Tbe ber bosom, that hills its narse asleep, has oo pcisca fior oor mnraBty. A sa|^ glance at the devoted zbA dignified Octaria recalls oar biwiy to virtae ; bat wi& drftcaff sldll be withbolds the purer wcman from proadaeBt frailMf with tbe Qaeen, and does not, like Dryden, being tbe two to a •'•*'J^*?*»g
A. Skottowc (u, 238) : Tbe passage most stiuagly eafteaiie of tbe jection of Antony's reason to his passiocts, is his reply to Qeopacra*s prtifaw ior pardon, when her tadiscrelioa h^ c&cted bfs ncer rain : * Fall not a tear, I say«* etc IIL. xi, 7$. Tbe opimoa caCextaxned by tbe diaautiL Aatonj of tbe worthless- aesi of Qeopatra, is a drcmastaaoe cntli^^ of tbe poet s own czcaiioa. Aatoey describes her as *• canning past mas's dioagbt^' and designates ber ia term! to the sLzad of a lover, woald natarally riaamiiairiii' fri'lings of aamiogled ' I foazKi yoa as a Bc>eseL* etc ITI. xxo, 142 He is faOy a&ne to, aad biOeily l«aimr< tbe icJry aad degradatioa of bis coadact; bat fass frmest icsoHes are liecUy cippused agaiast dte potest speO of bss * grave danm, — Wbose eye becked fcflb kis aad calFd tbem boBie ; Whose bosoai was has dowaet, bis dacf end. laad actiops of ^akespeare's AdIobt, tbertibie, axe diametrically ofi^iii«al to
is ao iaooaststeacy ia hcs rnndact Tbe IkTrtinHwcja of Qeopatia \ I IS tbe liak whack binds ber to tbe heart of AflCocy; dssolate aad ^Yili^itBoas * I ber depmity is rnagi riiil to bis aatzre ; tbat wbich otbexs woald bawe lew^
is to bim a spell. . . . Bat, wbic was graSe^ to bis apprtilr did not 1 imaiiiail ibe ap|g»AMtk» of hss jadgesmedL Hisoaey bs alike reootded Antony's ^^fc'^V^'— ' ahtSty aad his oorpcveal frailty : a victim to tbe laCfcr, eaoagb of tbe fcaiau 4p^ltf>t*» saaiived to impress ca bis mtsan* tbe deepest sense of bis IoUt, tbe weakness and
of bis isfataatsca. Sbakespeaie read die inmost tbo^bts of Anloay; aa ewesiastaBe record.
H. HalULX vi:^ 571' : AmUmr ^m£ Ctrf^irM, does not
besxdes as T^Jm^ms C4t:^£r\ be* is st least ec2aal!y redolent of tbe gesias of Sbakspeare. Axaccy i=k5eed was pves bJsa by biAoiy. aad be bas bat embo£ed ia
aD faesaxs bac bissell Iz Occnsra be bad less to gvide bim ; sbe is asaicba of tbe same payanoi mere lawiess aad iaseas&le to reason azki bDOoa^ aze icmad C2 wrrxaes. Tks c^iszacter K=ag act one dat can please, its stracg aad spcRted de£aeB=kc ba> a:t bees sad&xxdy ot-aeited. It has indeed oolf i poetical oe^fiaaljty ; 3»e type was '2: die ooonexas cf ^^'— >^ lifie. hot tbe bUace is tbat of XieiiaeS As^ck^'s Steals to a >i>»»^Y,
ENGLISH CRITICISM^BATHURST 479
In these three tragedies [Coriolanus^ Julius Otsar^ Anthony and Cleopatra] it is manifest that Roman character, and still more Roman manners, are not exhibited with the precision of a scholar ; yet there is something that distinguishes them from the rest, something of a grandiosity in the sentiments and language, which shows us that Shakespeare had not read that history without entering into its spirit.
Charles Batiiurst (p. 130) : Anthony and Cleopatra is carelessly written, with no attempt at dignity, considering what great personages are introduced ; but with a great deal of nature, spirit, and knowledge of character, in very many parts, and with several most beautiful passages of poetry and imagination ; as, for instance, the dream of Cleopatra. It has passages, where he lets his mind loose, and follows his fancy and feeling freely; particularly, perhaps, in the end; and even the verse breaks delightfully out of its trammels, as in the speech about the cloud. The subject of the play, in fact, was likely often to lead to this looser and softer character ; tenderness, even weakness, is its business. It is historical ; but it is chiefly the anecdote of his- \
tory, not the dignity of it. Plutarch* s Lives^ his only authority, is in fact but, in great degree, a collection of anecdotes. But there was no occasion to read Plutarch, to understand the part of Cleopatra. The tenderness of feeling, however, extends itself to other parts than those of the lovers ; at least it is most remarkable in the death of Enobarbus — a part which, after the manner of Shakespeare, is made to throw great light on the character of Antony himself, which he meant to elevate as much as possible ; notwithstanding his great weakness in all that concerns Cleopatra, and unmistakable misconduct with regard to his wife. He represents him as, what he certainly was not, a man of the most noble and high spirit, capable at times, notwith- standing the luxury he afterwards fell into, of a thoroughly soldier-like life, and full of kind and generous feelings. He seems to delight in supposing the melancholy meditations of a great and active character, when losing his power, and drawing to his end.
Hartley Coleridge (ii, 183) : The general neglect of Antony and Cleopatra by all but students of Shakspeare, and the preference long given to Dryden*s play on the same subject, prove the danger of protracting the interest of a plot, in order to introduce a greater variety of incidents. The scenes, for example, wherein Pompey figures, though well-vrritten, are wholly inconclusive ; they form a part of the biogra^ phy of Antony, not of his tragedy. Nor is it easy to conjecture Shakspeare*s reason for introducing so many short scenes, which serve no purpose but to let the auditor know the news. They form a sort of back-ground to the picture, but they detain the action. For poetry and character, there are few dramas superior ; nor is there any want of deep and grand pathos ; but perhaps both Antony and Cleopatra are too I heroic to be pitied for weakness, and too viciously foolish to be admired for their | heroism. Seldom has unlawful love been rendered so interesting ; but the interest, though not dangerous, is not perfectly agreeable.
W. \V. Lloyd (Critical Essay ^ ed. Singer, p. 332) : The passion of Antony for |*7 Cleopatra is too obviously spurious to command our sympathy, but at least it is pas- sion ; it is in its way sympathetic, and so far unselfish ; and the course of the action makes us feel the value of this quality, however debased, when set gainst the cold negation of all sympathetic feeling, the barren materialism of unsocial ambition that covets possession of the instruments of gratification at the cost of the very sense that
^8o APPENDIX
gires the Cicalty of bdng gratified. Notwithstandiiig dieiefare tfMt die feOj of Antony and the lalsdKX>d of the Egyfitian Qoeen are made vceyA manifrsr, die Bodi- fied tiiamph of the piece U theirs, and Caesar and his soldiexs are left duped and d^ed and disappointed. . . . The pUj throughout evinces the master haad of Shake- speare it reads with unchecked freshness, as though it flowed with qnickrtf fmainXj
from his pen, at the same time that erery line is charged with the matuiat aatuma of his ripened mind. Loxoriant as the execution is, it is so governed by apptopcnte^ ness, that I doobt whether any of Shakespeare's plays can be more josdy cntided correct, in the technical sense, than Antony and CUopatrm^ — whether from any odicr a single line could less easOy be struck out without ^ipaxenl injury and losSb
Anon. (R. Cartwright ?, Sonnets of W. Sh^ pp. 19, 22, 31) : Lepidns is nideady Marlowe ; and, strangest of all. Sextos Pompeitts b William Herbert ; and Meoaa^ Thomas Thorpe. It is not probable, that Bliss Aime Hathaway ercr dreamt of being the sister of Caesar and the wife of a greater than Caesar; hot wms Siakspere himsdf consdoiB of his own position in the world of poetry and thoo^t ? Certainly, dus play prores it ; hot this self-coosdoosness is not in the least degree necessarily oao- nected with pride or Tanity; it is the repose, the calm nsajesty of the Olympian Jove; and when Antony acknowledges himself a Roman by a Roman valiantly vanquished, it is the Shakspere of 1593 acknowledging the moral supremacy and greatness of him of 1613. It may perhaps be advisable, and more satisfitctory to the reader to ycai. oat, how &r the diaracters in the Sonnets and in the Flay agree or tally one wi& another. The two ladies readOy answer for themselves — Cleopatra being, of cxxBse, the lady with the raven black eyes ; and Octavia, Mrs^ W. Shakspere: Enobarhos also, the personal friend and Bivoarite c&ax of Antony, tieacfaeRiiiSy repentant, and forgiven, is easily reoogniaed as Lord Soathamptoo, who was in after-life * a great * captain in the Spanish wars, and in the Low Countries.' To coochide, Antony if evidently not the Mark Antony of history, but the fixlly developed Shakspere of 1593 — an archangel mined ; Lord Southampton is dearly pointed at in Eoobarbns ; the character of Marlowe is drawn with extraordinary accuracy ; the Earl of Fembrake is very disdncdy marked ; and the allnsioo to Thomas Thorpe a hcme-dirast. It is impossible that Shakspere, in his fiftieth year, could, even offhand as a sketdi, have written these passages without a clear and dffinife object ; and yet the two appaicndy tariffing and unmeaning conversations, the one widi Menas, ami the odier aboat Lcpidus, might have been omitted, and the parts of Pompey and Lepidns migfat have been dismissed in a few words, just like Fulvia, without injury to the body of the work ; and perhaps the play would then have been cast in a more dassical moald, less distastefiil to French critics, and more worthy of a Daxmd or a PEmbioke^i Mother ; but it would not have been a Reply to the tale in the Sonnets^
J. A. Hexaud (p. 374) : In dosing his cyde of Roman plays, Sliakspere*s manifested itself in the highest form. His intellectnal energies hMd already bfended with and modified his imaginative* his posaonate, and his creative power •«<< \m\F'^V ^ but they were now to be identified at the acme of their manifiestationsy in his snbfiBe and wonderful tragedy of Antomr and Cleopatra. We have already aitmacd Ae poet boking down, as a superior intelligence, on the hsves of Troihu and Ctuidtt and sporting as an equal with those of yinua and Adomis^ We have now to see Ha identify himself with two mortals at the height of fnwtmt^^ who, in a species of hooie had conceived themselves to be in the p'^^rm of Dtvine ^jwcn^ caicHft
ENGLISH CRITICISM--DOWDEN 481
from all laws except that of their own wills. This is the elevation at which Shak- spere sustains his argument, and thus prevents it from becoming immoral, as it does in the hands of Dryden, who paints his heroine and hero as mere human persons, of great rank indeed, indulging in voluptuous and licentious habits. No notion of guilt 1 \ attaches to the conduct of Shakspere's Antony and CUop<Ura either in the poet's 1 X opinion or their own. They absolutely transcend all relative conventions, all possible forms of manners. They consciously acknowledge, and therefore transgress, no law. They live in an ideal region, far above the reach of a moral code, and justify their acts on the warranty of their own nature. They swear by and recognise no higher power than themselves. That this is a false position there is no doubt ; and the poet, by the catastrophe of his tragedy shows it to have been such. But while the divine revels last, the actors in them fully believe that they are the divinities whom they would represent. Antony and Cleopatra surrender themselves without reserve to the inspirations with which they are filled, and are no less in their own estimation than the very deities of love. They suffer no vulgar criticism, no every-day cares, to come near them, and hold themselves aloof from the customary and the common. They sit on thrones outside the circle of the round globe, and repose on couches which float in air-like clouds, and never touch the surface of the planet. . . . There is a poetic valour as well as a personal one, and it required a brave poet to conceive and execute such a design. With a happy audacity, Shakspere rises from the begin- ning to the height of his theme. The love of his heroic pair, they assume to be boundless. To set a bourne to it, would require the discovery of a new heaven, new earth. The manner in which Antony suffers the imperial Egyptian to overbear his very manhood shows at any rate that his is without limits. No consideration or interest, however solemn or serious, can prevent its extension.
Edward Dowden (p. 308) : The spirit of the play, though superficially it appear voluptuous, is essentially severe. That is to say, Shakspere is faithful to the fact The fascination exercised by Cleopatra over Antony, and hardly less by Antony over Qeopatra, is not so much that of the senses as of the sensuous imagination. A third of the world is theirs. They have left youth behind with its slight, melodious rap- tures and despairs. Theirs is the deeper intoxication of middle age, when death has become a reality, when the world is limited and positive, when life is urged to yield up quickly its utmost treasures of delight. What may they not achieve of joy who have power, and beauty, and pomp, and pleasure all their own ? How shall they fill every minute of their time with the quintessence of enjoyment and of gloiy ? « Let Rome in Tiber melt ! and the wide arch Of the rang'd empire fall I here is my * space.* Only ont thing they had not allowed for, — that over and above power, and beauty, and pleasure, and pomp, there is a certain inevitable fact, a law which can- not be evaded. Pleasure sits enthroned as queen ; there is a revel, and the lords of the earth, crowned with roses, dance before her to the sound of lascivious flutes. But presently the scene changes ; the hall of revel is transformed to an arena ; the dancers are armed gladiators ; and as they advance to combat they pay the last hom- age to their Queen with the words, MorUuri te salutant.
F. J. FURNIVALL (Leopold Shakspere, Introd, p. Ixxxii) : That in [Qeopatra], the dark woman of Shakspere's Sonnets, his own fickle, serpent-like, attractive mis- tress, is to some extent embodied, I do not doubt. What a superbly sumptuous picture, as if painted by Veronese or Titian, is that where CleopAtra first met Antony
3X
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APPENDIX
upon the river of Cydnus ! How admirably transferred from Plntarch's prose ! And how that fatal inability to say • No ' to woman shows us Antony's weakness and the cause of his final fall. The play is like Troiltis and Cressida^ not only in lust and false women (Cressida and Cleopatra) playing such a prominent part in it, but in Antony's renown and power, and selfish preference of his own whims to honour's call, to his country's good, being the counterpart of Achilles's. All the characters are selfish except Ociavia and Eros. ... In [Antony's] developcment, lust and self- indulgence prevail, and under their influence he loses judgment, soldiership, even the qualities of a man. His seeming impulse towards good in the marriage of OcUvia lasts but for a time ; all her nobleness and virtue cannot save him. He tunis from the gem of woman to his Egyptian dish again, and abides by his infatuation even when he knows he's deceived.
A. C. Swinburne (p. i88) : A loftier or a more perfect piece of man's work was never done in all the world than this tragedy of Coriolanus : the one fit and crown- ing epithet for its companion or successor is that bestowed by Coleridge — • the mo^ 'wonderful.' It would seem a sign or birthmark of only the greatest among poets that they should be sure to rise instantly for awhile above the very highest of their native height at the touch of a thought of Qeopatra. So was it, as we all know, with William Shakespeare : so is it, as we all see, with Victor Hugo. As we fed in the marvellous and matchless verses of Zim-Zisimi all the splendour and fragrance and miracle of her mere bodily presence, so from her first imperial dawn on the stage of Shakespeare to the setting of that eastern star behind a pall of undissolving clood we feel the charm and the terror and the mystery of her absolute and royal sooL
Never has he given such proof of his incomparable instinct for abstinence from the wrong thing as well as achievement of the right He has utterly rejected and dis- dained all occasion of setting her off by means of any lesser foil than all the glory of the world with all its empires. And we need not Antoujr's example to show as that these are less than straws in the balance. ' Entre elle et I'univers qui s'oftaient *k la fois II hisita, l&chant le monde dans son choix.' Even as that Roman grasp relaxed luid let fall the world, so has Shakespeare's self let go for awhile his greater worid of imagination, with all its all but infinite variety of life and thought and action, for love of that more infinite variety which custom could not stale. Himsdf a second and a yet more fortunate Antony, he has once more laid a world, and a world more wonderful than ever, at her feet He has put aside for her sake all other forms and figures of womanhood ; he, father or creator of Rosalind, of Cor- delia, of Desdemona, and of Imogen, he too, like the 5nin-god and sender of all song, has anchored his eyes on her whom * Phoebus' amorous pinches ' could not leave * black,' nor * wrinkled deep in time ' ; on that incarnate and imperishable
* spirit of sense,' to whom at the very last * The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, *That hurts, and b desired.' To him, as to the dying husband of Octavia, this crea- ture of his own hand might have boasted herself that the loveliest and purest among all her sisters of his begetting, * with her modest eyes And still conclusion, shall
* acquire no honour, Demurring upon me.' To sum up, Shakespeare has dsewhcre given us in ideal incarnation the perfect mother, the perfect wife, the perfect daughter, the perfect mistress, or the perfect maiden : here only once for all he has given os the perfect and the everlasting woman.
And what a world of great men and great things, * high actions and high pas- 'sions,' is this that he has spread under her for a foot-cloth or hung behind her for a
ENGLISH CRITICISM-^HUDSON 483
curtain ! The descendant of that other, his ancestral Alcides, late ofi^oot of the god whom he loved and who so long was loth to leave him, is here, as in history, the visible one man revealed who could grapple for a second with very Rome and seem to throw it, more lightly than he could cope with Qeopatra. And not the Roman Landor himself could see or make us see more clearly than has his fellow provincial of Warwickshire that first imperial nephew of her great first paramour, who was to his actual uncle even such a foil and counterfeit and perverse and prosperous parody as the son of Hortense Beauhamais of Saint-Leu to the son of Letixia Buonaparte of Ajaccio. For Shakespeare too, like Landor, had watched hb • sweet Octavius ' smilingly and frowningly * draw under nose the knuckle of forefinger' as he looked out upon the trail of innocent blood after the bright receding figure of his brave young kinsman. The fair-faced false 'present God* of his poetic parasites, the smooth triumphant patron and preserver with the heart of ice and iron, smiles before us to the very life. It is of no account now to remember that < he at Philippi kept * His sword even like a dancer : * for the sword of Antony that struck for him is in the renegade hand of Dercetas.
I have said nothing of Enobarbus or of Eros, the fugitive once mined by his flight and agam redeemed by the death-agony of his dark and doomed repentance, or the freedman transfigured by a death more fair than freedom through the glory of the greatness of his faith : for who can speak of all things or of half that are in Shake- speare ? And who can speak worthily of any ?
H. N. Hudson (Harv. Ed., p. 6) : Judging from my own experience, Antony and Cleopatra is the last of Shakespeare's plays that one grows to appreciate. This seems partly owing to the excellences of the work, and partly not For it is marked beyond any other by a superabundance of external animation, as well as by a sur- passing fineness of workmanship, such as needs oft-repeated and most careful perusal to bring out full upon the mind's eye. The great number and variety of events crowded together in it, the rapidity with which they pass before us, and, consequently^ the frequent changes of scene, hold curiosity on the stretch, and somewhat overfill the mind with sensuous effect, so as for a long time to distract and divert the thoughts from those subtilties of characterization and delicacies of poetry which everywhere accompany them. I am by no means sure but the two things naturally go together^ yet I have to confess it has long seemed to me that, by selecting fewer incidents, or by condensing the import and spirit of them into larger masses, what is now a serious fault in the drama might have been avoided.
H. Corson {rntroduction to tht Study of Shakespeare ^ 1889, p. 260, et seq,) : This then is the dramatic situation : a man of extraordinary possibilities, altogether of colossal but unsymmetrical proportions, brought under the sway of a fascinating woman — fascinating in a sensuous direction — with all possible adventitious aids to her intrinsic fascination ; but to induce a vigorous resistance to this sway under which he is brought, and to save him from becoming a helpless victim of her magic, the greatest possible demands are made upon his asserting his nobler self— demands which, if met, would enable him to * walk the earth with dominion,' though wanting in the civic genius of his colleague in the triumvirate, Octavius. He is an unparal- leled illustration of what Hamlet is made to give expression to : * So oft it chances *in particular men,' etc., I, iv, 23-28. This passage expresses the very theme of Antony and Cleopatra as a tragedy ; and when Shakespeare wrote it, he had already.
484 APPENDIX
there can be little or no doubt, produced the play of Julius C^sar, and had seen in the character of Antony, notwithsUnding all its great elements, the fatal consequences of a * vicious mole of nature.' Antony may have been in his mind when he wrote this passage. Thomas De Quincey, in his volume on The Casars, credits Shake- speare with an insight into the grand possibilities of Antony's nature, which the Romans themselves could not have had: * Shakespeare,' he says, *had a just con-
* ception of the original grandeur which lay beneath that wild tempestuous nature
< presented by Antony to the eye of the undiscriminating world. It is to the honor
* of Shakespeare that he should have been able to discern the true coloring of this
* most original character under the smoke and tarnish of antiquity. It is no less to
* the honor of the great triumvir, that a strength of coloring should survive in his « character, capable of baffling the wrongs and ravages of time. Neither is it to be
* thought strange that a character should have been misunderstood and falsely appreci- *ated for nearly two thousand years. It happens not uncommonly, especially ' amongst an unimaginative people, like the Romans, that the characters of men are
* ciphers and enigmas to their own age, and are first read and interpreted by a far
* distant posterity. . . . Men like Mark Antony, with minds of chaotic composition — 'light conflicting with darkness, proportions of colossal grandeur disfigured by ' unsymmetrical arrangement, the angelic in close neighborhood with the brutal — are ' first read in their true meaning by an age learned in the philosophy of the human ' heart. Of this philosophy the Romans had, by the necessities of education and ' domestic discipline, not less than by original constitution of mind, the very narrow-
< est visual range. . . . Not man in his own peculiar nature, but man in his relations
< to other men, was the station from which the Roman speculators took up their 'philosophy of human nature. Tried by such standard, Mark Antony would be ' found wanting. As a citizen, he was irretrievably licentious, and therefore there ' needed not the bitter personal feud, which circumstances had generated between ' them, to account for the achamefnent with which Cicero pursued him. Had Antony ' been his friend even, or his near kinsman, Cicero must still have been his public ' enemy. And not merely for bis vices ; for even the grander features of his diar- ' acter, his towering ambition, his magnanimity, and the fascinations of his popular 'qualities, — were all, in the circumstances of those times, and in his dispositioii, of a ' tendency dangerously uncivic'
(Page 265) : In such a highly-coloured and richly- sensuous passage [as the description of Cleopatra's appearance on the river Cydnus], the great artist creates the atmosphere in which the passion-fated pair are exhibited. Now what moral problem was involved in the dramatic treatment of such a theme ? It could be said, a priori^ that the problem consisted in shutting off Sjrmpathy with moral obliquity, and inviting sympathy with moral freedom so far as the latter is asserted, on the put of the principal actors. And just this, it will be seen, Shakespeare has done. We are nowhere brought into a sympathetic relationship with the moral obliquity of either Antony or Qeopatra. We are protected by the moral spirit with which the dimmatitf works, from any perversion of the moral judgment. And this protection is positive rather than negative ; for the moral judgment is stimulated to its best activity, throughout the play.
An interesting feature of the play, bearing on its moral spirit, is that part of its narrated element which pertains to the hero and heroine — what is told of Antony and of Qeopatra, instead of being brought dramatically forward. Professor Delius, in his valuable papers On Shakespeare's Use of Narration in his Dramas, attributes loo
ENGLISH CRITICISM-^WINTER 485
much, perhaps, of the narrated element, to the deficiencies of the stage in Shake- speare's time, and not enough to the perspective the artist aimed after, by his use of narration, and to the moral proportion of a play. What is thrown into the back- ground by narration often serves moral proportion by its being thus kept apart from our sympathies. This is especially the case with the tragedy of Antony and Cleo- patra, [See I, i, 4^53; If J» 63-67; II, ii, 267-279; III, x, 26-29; HI, xi, 55-^; IV, xiv, 55-65 ; IV, XV, 27-30.] Now the point to be especially noted is, that Cleopatra's fascination is, in the passages quoted, described and spoken of, rather than brought dramatically to our feelings through what she herself says and does. These descriptions of her charms do not bring us into any sympathetic relationship with her personality. We simply know of her charms. The dramatist does but little more than the historian. Plutarch tells us of her fascination, and so does Dion Cassius.! Both these writers emphasize it even more than Shakespeare does. But they narrate it as historians. They address the fact to our minds. But the drama, if it be within its purpose, should bring it, as far as possible, to our aesthetic appreciation, rather than simply acquaint us with the fact. But it does not do so. In some, indeed in . all the scenes in which Qeopatra appears, she is not a very fascinating creature. Her * treatment of the messenger who brings her the news of Antony's marriage to Octavia does not present her in a very attractive light ; rather, in a very repulsive one (A. II. Sc. v.). In her rage she is simply irrational. She beats the innocent messenger, hales him up and down, and even prepares to kill him. She is almost divorced from the moral constitution of things. Her will is the wind's will. Her fascination, as represented by Shakespeare, is almost wholly a sexual one, exerted upon those who are in her bodily presence.
W. Winter (Old Shrines and Ivy, p. 219) : Whatever else may be said as to the drift of the tragedy of Antony and Cleopatra this certainly may with truth be said, that to strong natures that sicken under the weight of convention and are weaiy with looking upon the littleness of human nature in its ordinary forms, it affords a great and splendid, howsoever temporary, relief and refreshment. The winds of power blow through it ; the strong meridian sunshine blazes over it ; the colours of morning bum around it ; the trumpet blares in its music ; and its fragrance is the scent of a wilderness of roses. Shakespeare's vast imagination was here loosed upon colossal images and imperial splendours. The passions that dash or mingle in this piece are like the ocean surges — fierce, glittering, terrible, glorious. The theme is the ruin of a demigod. The adjuncts are empires. Wealth of every sort is poured forth with regal and limitless profusion. The language glows with a prod- igal emotion and towers to a superb height of eloquence. It does not signify, as modifying the effect of all this tumult and glory, that the stem trath of mortal evan- escence is suggested all the way and simply disclosed at last in a tragical wreck of honour, love, and life. While the pageant endures it endures in diamond light, and when it fades and crumbles the change is instantaneous to darkness and death. * The odds is gone. And there is nothing left remarkable Beneath the visiting moon.' There is no need to inquire whether Shakespeare — who closely followed Plutarch, in telling the Roman and Egyptian story — ^has been true to the historical fact. His characters declare themselves with absolute precision and they are not to be mis- taken. Antony and Cleopatra are in middle life, and the only possible or admissible ideal of them is that which separates them at once and forever from the gentle, puny, experimental emotions of youth, and invests them with the developed powers and
486
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fearless and exultant passions of men and women to whom the world and life are a fact and not a dream. They do not palter. For them there is but one hour, which is the present, and one life, which they will entirely and absolutely fulfil. They have passed out of the mere instinctive life of the senses, into that more intense and thrilling life wherein the senses are fed and governed by the imagination. Shake- speare has filled this wonderful play with lines that tell unerringly bis grand mean- ing in this respect — lines that, to Shakespearean scholars, are in the alphabet of memory : * There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned.* ... * There's not a 'minute of our lives should stretch Without some pleasure now.' . . . ' Let Rome in
* Tiber melt and the wide arch Of the ranged empire fall ! Here is my space ! ' . . . < O, thou day of the world. Chain mine armed neck ! Leap thou, attire and all,
* Through proof of harness, to my heart and there Ride on the pants triumphing.' . . .
* Fall not a tear, I say I one of them rates All that is won and lost. Give me a kiss ; ' Even this repays me.' Here is no Orsino, sighing for the music that is the food of love ; no Romeo, taking the measure of an immade grave ; no Hamlet lover, bidding his mistress go to a nunnery. You may indeed, if you possess the subtle, poetic sense, hear, through this voluptuous story, the faint, far-off rustle of the garments of the coming Nemesis ; the low moan of the funeral music that will sing those imperial lovers to their rest — for nothing is more inevitably doomed than mortal delight in mortal love, and no moralist ever taught his lesson of truth with more inexorable purpose than Shakespeare uses here. But in the meantime it is the present vitality and not the moral implication of the subject that actors must be con- cerned to show, and observers to recognise and comprehend, upon the stage, if this tragedy is to be rightly acted and rightly seen. Antony and Cleopatra are lovers, but not lovers only. It is the splendid stature and infinite variety of character in them that render them puissant in fascination. E^ch of them speaks great thoughts in great language. Each displa3rs noble imagination. Each becomes majestic in the hour of danger and pathetically heroic in the hour of death. The djriag speeches of Antony are in the highest vein that Shakespeare ever reached ; and, when yoa consider what is implied as well as what is said, there is nowhere in him a more lofty line than Cleopatra's * Give me my robe, put on my crown ; I have immortal
* longings in me ! ' Antony at the last is a ruin, and like a ruin — dark, weird, grim, lonely, haggard — he seems to stand beneath a cold and lurid sunset sky, wherein the black clouds gather, while the rising wind blows merciless and terrible over an inter- vening waste of rock and desert. Those images indicate the spirit and atmosphere of Shakespeare's conception.
George Wyndham {North's Plutarch, etc. Reprint, London, 1895. Inirod. p. xciii) : What, it may be asked, led Shakespeare, amid all the power and magnificence of North's PhUarch^ to select his Coriolanus, his Jidim Ctesar, and his Antomius} The answer, I think, must be that in Volumnia, Calpumia and Portia, and Qeopatza, he found woman in her three-fold relation to man, of mother, wife, and mistress. I have passed over Shakespeare's Julius Casar; but I may end by tracing in his Antony the golden tradition he accepted from Amyot and North. It is impossible to do this in detail, for throughout the first three Acts all the colour and the incident, throughout the last two all the incident and the passion, are taken by Shakespeare from North, and by North from Amyot Shakespeare, indeed, is saturated with North's language and possessed by his passion. He is haunted by the story as North has told it, so that he even ObuIs to eliminate matters which either are nothing to his
ENGLISH CRITICISM— BOAS 487
purpose or are not susceptible of dramatic presentment : as in I, ii of the Folios, where you find Lamprias, Plutarch's grandfather, and his authority for many details of Antony's career, making an otiose entry as Lamprius, among the characters who have something to say. Everywhere are touches whose colour must remain com- paratively pale unless they glow again for us as, doubtless, they glowed for Shake- speare, with hues reflected from the passages in North that shone in his memory. During his first three Acts Shakespeare merely paints the man and the woman who are to suffer and die in his two others ; and for these portraits he has scraped together all his colour from the many such passages as are scattered through the earlier and longer portion of North's An/onius. But in the Fourth Act Shakespeare changes his method : he has no more need to gather and arrange. Rather the concentrated passion, born of, and contained in, North's serried narrative, expands in his verse — nay, explodes from it — into those flashes of immortal speech which have given the Fourth Act of Antony and Cleopatra its place apart even in Shakespeare. Of all that may be said of North's Plutarch, this perhaps is of deepest significance : that every dramatic incident in Shakespeare's Fourth Act is contained in two, and in his Fifth Act, in one and a half folio pages of the Antonius,
F. S. Boas (p. 473) : Certainly in consummate delineation of character, and in the superb rhythmical swell of many passages, the work is unsurpassed. But it has a grave share of the defects to which Romantic Drama had been liable from the first, especially when it was drawing upon historical materials. . . . Shakspere seems to have felt a conscientious obligation to introduce every incident, political or private, mentioned by Plutarch, and the result is a loss of dramatic unity and perspective. The multiplicity of details is bewildering, and no single event stands out boldly as the pivot on which the catastrophe turns. But this artistic defect is here in part the outcome of a significant peculiarity in Shakspere's treatment of love as a dramatic theme. Sexual passion is the immediate subject of only three plays, Romeo and Juliet ^ Troilus and Cressida^ and Antony and Cleopatra. In each case the emotional interest is interwoven with elements of a political nature — the civil strife of Mon- tagues and Capulets, the war between the Greeks and the Trojans, the struggle for the lordship of the Roman world. Thus Shakspere, even when making an elaborate study of amorous passion, does not isolate it from the wider, more material, issues of surrounding civic or national life. He thus avoids the disastrous pitfall of treating love as the exclusive factor in existence — a method which, according to the nature of the love chosen for analysis, tends to produce an unwholesome sentimentality or a still more unwholesome prurience. Shakspere opens to our view hearts aflame with chaste aflection or with sensuous desire, but he never cheats himself or others into the belief that sexual relationship is the solitary, imperious concern of all mankind. From the kaleidoscopic changes of Cleopatra's moods he turns our gaze to the legions tramping in solid array through the uttermost parts of the earth, or to the council- chambers where the destinies of kingdoms are being decided by the stroke of a pen. We are shown in turn every aspect of the most materialistic age in the world's his- tory, the age when Roman civic virtue was, in its death-throes, suffocated by the plethora of its golden spoils from the South and the East.
Thomas R. Lounsbury (p. 96) : In certain ways the Antony and Cleopatra of Shakespeare is one of the most astonishing exhibitions of the many astonishing exhibitions the poet has afforded of that almost divine insight and intuition which
y
488
APPENDIX
enabled him to comprehend at a glance that complete whole of which other men, after painful toil, learn but a beggarly part. The student of ancient history can find in the play occasional disregard of precise dates. He can discover, in some cases, a sequence of events which is not in absolutely strict accord with the account of them that has been handed down. But from no investigation of records, from no inter- pretation of texts, will he ever arrive at so clear and vivid a conception of the char- acters of the actors who then took part in the struggle for the supremacy of the world. Nowhere in ancient story or song will he find, as here, the light which enables him to see the men as they are. It is a gorgeous gallery in which each personage stands out so distinct that there is no danger of misapprehension or confusion as to the parts they fill. Antony appears the soldier and voluptuary he was, swayed alternately by love, by regret, by ambition, at one moment the great ruler of the divided world, at the next recklessly flinging his future away at the dictation of a passionate caprice; Qeopatra, true to no interest, fascinating, treacherous, charming with her grace those "^ whom she revolts by her conduct, luring the man she half loves to a ruin which involves herself in his fate ; Octavius, cool, calculating, never allowing his heart to gain, either for good or evil, the better of his head, showing in early youth the self- restraint, the caution, the knowledge of the world which belong to advancing years; the feeble Lepidus, striving to act the part of a reconciler to the two mighty oppo- sites, with whom the irony of fate has thrown him into conjunction : these and half- a-dozen minor characters appear painted in clear and sharp outline on the crowded canvas of Shakespeare; while in attendance, like the chorus of a Greek tragedy, stands Enobarbus, commenting on every incident of the great world-drama which is acted before his eyes, ominously foreboding the declining fortunes of his diief in the moral ruin which carries with it prostration of the intellect, and pointing to the inevitable catastrophe of shame and dishonor to which events are hurrying.
Richard Garnett (English Literature^ etc., ii, 243) : The close relationship between Antony and Cleopatra and Pericles, Prince of Tyre, is shown by the cir- cumstance that, though only Pericles was printed, both were entered for publication on the same day. May 20, 1 608. Which was first written cannot be known ; the probability is that some play entirely from Shakespeare's hand would intervene between two, like Timon and Pericles, produced with the help of collaborators. The question, however, is not material, for both show Shakespeare's restoration to a sane and cheerful view of life. Antony and Cleopatra is pre-eminently the work of one interested in the * world's great business.' Hardly anywhere else is there such bustle, such variety, such zest for political and military affairs. Shakespeare is thoroughly in charity with his principal characters. His treatment of Cleopatra is purely objec- tive, there is no trace of personal resentment, as in his portrait of Cressida. In Antony he has marvellously depicted 'the average sensual man,' on a far lower plane than a noble idealist like Brutus, but still capable of deep human feeling. This was shown in Julius Casar, by the great speeches begiiming * O pardon me, thoa ' bleeding piece of earth,' and ' This was the noblest Roman of them all.' In Antmy and Cleopatra this depth of feeling is entirely devoted to a woman ; and so intense, especially under the influence of jealousy, so sincere, so single-minded, save for one vacillation under stress of politics, is it that we overlook the fact that we have before us an Antony in decay, no longer able to sway the Roman multitude or school Octavius. Wisdom and policy are gone forever, even martial honour is dimmed, hut love makes amends for all. Such a picture necessarily implies a corresponding brilliancy in tbe
ENGLISH CRITICISM— COURTHOPE 489
portrait of Qeopatra, and it is needless to remark that she is perhaps the most wonder- ful of all Shakespeare's studies of female character. He follows Plutarch's deline- ation closely, but performs the same miracle upon it as Venus wrought upon the effigy of Galatea : a beautiful image becomes a living being. Perhaps the keynote of the personality is what Shakespeare terms < her infinite variety ' ; there is room in her for every phase of female character. The same amplitude characterises the play itself, with its great sweep in time and place, its continual changes of scene, its crowd of personages, its multitude of speeches and profusion of poetical imagery. The con- trast with Julius Casar is instructive. There the interest is more concentrated, the characterisation more minute, and the execution more laborious. The ease with which Shakespeare handles his theme in the later play, and the plasticity of the entire subject in his hands, manifest the perfection of his art by dint of practice, but impair the effectiveness of his piece on the stage. The actor has fewer grand oppor- tunities than of yore, and although the drama is resplendent with poetical phrases, there are few sustained outbursts of passion or eloquence. The impersonation of Cleopatra, moreover, demands an actress of mature years. In Shakespeare's time there was no difficulty, for there were no actresses. The representation of his Qeo- patra by a boy strikes us now as indescribably farcical.
W. J. CouRTHOPE (IV, 178) : Antony's character in its extraordinary versatility — orator, soldier and debauchee ; a Henry V. without his power of self-control — fur- nished one of those contradictory problems of human nature which Shakespeare was accustomed to study with the most sympathetic insight ; and the meretricious fasci- nation of Geopatra, as recorded by Plutarch, joined (for she is no Cressida) to a certain greatness of soul and fidelity of passion, must have struck the poet's imagi- nation by its likeness, as well as its contrast, to some woman whose character he painted in his Sonnets, The use of the word * will ' in this remarkable play is noticeable. When Antony has left the battle of Actium, to his own dishonour, in pursuit of the flying Qeopatra, the queen asks the shrewd, worldly, and calculat- ing Enobarbus, who is introduced into the play as a kind of chorus to comment on Antony and his fortunes : ' Is Antony or we in fault for this ? ' Enobarbus replies :
* Antony only, that would make his will Lord of his reason.' (Ill, xiii.) Yet Antony throughout the play recognises that he is acting against his deliberate resolution, under the irresistible influence of passion : * I followed that I blush to look upon : ' My very hairs do mutiny ; for the white Reprove the brown for rashness, and they
< them For fear and doting.' (Ill, xi.) So that his conduct is what lago calls ' merely
< a lust of the blood and permission of the will.' (I, iii.) This is the very helpless- ness of passion spoken of in Sonnet cl. : *0, from what power hast thon this pow-
* erful might With insufficiency my heart to sway ? To make me give the lie to my ' true sight And swear that brightness doth not grace the day ? Whence hast thou
* this becoming of things ill. That in the very refuse of thy deeds There is such
* strength and warrantise of skill That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds? '
H. W. Mabie (p. 271 ) : Antony and Cleopatra b the drama of the East and West in mortal collision of ideals and motives, and the East succumbs to the superior fibre and more highly organized character of the West Qeopatra is the greatest of the enchantresses. She has wit, grace, humour; the intoxication of sex breathes from her ; she unites the pa<;sion of a great temperament with the fathomless coquetry of a courtesan of genius. She is passionately alive, avid of sensation, consumed with
490 APPENDIX
love of pleasure, imperious in her demands for that absolute homage wliich slays honour and saps manhood at the very springs of its power. This superb embodiment of femininity, untouched by pity and untroubled by conscience, has a compelling charm, born in the mystery of passion and taking on the radiance of a thousand moods which melt into one another in endless succession, as if there were no limit to the resources of her temperament and the sorceries of her beauty. Of her alone has the greatest of poets dared to declare that ' age cannot wither her, nor custom stale 'her infinite variety. 'i It is this magnificence which invests Qeopatra^s criminality with a kind of sublimity, so vast is the scale of her being and so tremendous the force of her passions. The depth of Shakespeare's poetic art and the power of his imagi- nation are displayed in their full compass in Antony and CUopatra,
A. C. Bradley {Quarterly Revirw^ April, 1 906, p. 350) : Why is it that, although f we close the book in a triumph which is more than reconciliation, this is mingled, as
we look back on the story, with a sadness so peculiar, almost the sadness of disen- chantment ? Is it that, when the glow has faded, Cleopatra's ecstasy comes to appear, I would not say factitious, but an effort strained and prodigious as well as glorious, not, like Othello's last speech, the final expression of character, of thoughts and emotions which have dominated a whole life ? Perhaps this is so, but there is some- thing more, something that sounds paradoxical : we are saddened by the very fkt that the catastrophe saddens us so little ; it pains us that we should feel so much tri- j umph and pleasure. In < Romeo and Juliet,' ' Hamlet,' * Othello,' though in a sense
\ we accept the deaths of hero and heroine, we feel a keen sorrow. We look back,
think how noble or beautiful they were, wish that fate had opposed to them a weaker enemy, dream possibly of the life they might then have led. Here we can hardly do this. With all our admiration and sympathy for the lovers we do not wish them to gain the world. It is better for the world's sake, and not less for thdr own, that they should fail and die. At the very first they came before us, unlike those others, anlike Coriolanus and even Macbeth, in a glory already tarnished, half-mined by their past. Indeed one source of strange and most unusual effect in their stoiy is that this marvellous passion comes to adepts in the experience and art of passion, who might be expected to have worn its charm away. Its splendour daseles us ; but, when the splendour vanishes, we do not mourn, as we mourn for the love of Romeo or Othello, that a thing so bright and good should die. And the &u:t that we mourn so litde saddens us.
A comparison of Shakespearean tragedies seems to prove that the tragic emotions are stirred in the fullest possible measure only when such beauty or nobility of char- acter is displayed as commands unreserved admiration or love ; or when, in default I of this, the forces which move the agents, and the conflict which results from these
i forces, attain a terrifying and overwhelming power. The four most famous tngedies
satisfy one or both of these conditions ; ' Antony and Cleopatra,' though a grtft
tragedy, satisfies neither of them completely. But to say this is not to critidse it It
I does not attempt to satisfy these conditions, and then fail in the attempt It attempt
, something different, and succeeds as triumphantly as 'Othello* itself. In doing »
I it gives us what no other tragedy can give, and it leaves us, no less than any other,
lost in astonishment at the powers which created it
GERMAN CRITICISM^GOETHE
GERMAN CRITICISM
491
Goethe (Shakespeare und kein Ende^ 1S13, { l): Be another remark here made : it will be difficult to find a second poet in whose separate works there is always a different conception operative and throughout effective, as can be demon- strated in Shakespeare's various plays. Thus throughout Coriolanus there runs the vexation that the common people will not recognise the pre-eminence of their superiors. In Julius Casar everything revolves about the idea that the upper classes are unwill- ing to see the highest position occupied, because they vainly imagine that they can be effective as a body corporate. In Antony and Cleopatra, it is proclaimed with a thousand tongues that self-indulgence and achievement are incompatible.
G. G. Gervinus (ii, 315) : There arises, moreover, an ethical objection [to this play] which will prejudice the majority of readers against it, and against Coleridge's opinion of it. Among the Dramatis Persona there is no great and noble character, and in the actions of the drama, no really elevating feature, either in its politics or in its love-affairs. This play seems to make us intuitively aware how much we should lose in Shakespeare, if, with his confessedly great knowledge of men and nature, there did not go, hand in hand, aesthetic excellence (the ideal concentration of actors and actions), and ethical excellence (the ideal height of what is represented as human nature). The poet had to set forth a debased period in his Antony and Cleopatra ; for the truth of history, he did so adequately ; but this did not exclude him from giving a glance at a better state of human nature, which, amid so much degradation, might comfort and elevate us. If we recall the Historical Plays, where Shakespeare had to depict generations, for the most part degenerate and ruined, we shall find that in Richard II, there was, as a compensation, a Gaunt and a Carlisle ; and even in Richard III, the few strokes that depicted the sons of Edward, are a beneficent counterpoise to the wide-spread wickedness. Here, however, there is nothing of the kind, and we may even affirm that the opportunity for such a counter- balance has been conspicuously evaded : it would surely have been easy, in the char- acter of Octavia at least, to keep before us some views of what is more noble in human nature ; even if it were by only a few traits, which would have exhibited her to us in action, where now she is merely described to us in words. Let me introduce an observation here, which will set this singular defect in Antony and Cleopatra in a still stronger light. It seems to us. in truth, as though Shakespeare, about 1607- 10, had, we will not say a period but, seasons when he composed his poetry, in gen- eral, somewhat more carelessly, be it regarded either aesthetically or ethically. What may have been the cause of that which is here conjectured, we can hardly fathom. It is, indeed, possible, that at about this time his aversion to everything pertaining to the theatre, might have seized him more strongly ; it may be also possible, that some indications of physical exhaustion had already set in, and that these may have been the cause of his retirement, and the first intimation of his early death.* Be the cause what it may, of the more negligent treatment of some works of this period, the fact itself seems incontestible.
♦ Shakespeare died at the age of fifty-two years. This is early, but not quite as early as is often supposed. An average of the ages of JoNSON, Beaumont, Fletcher, Marston, Middleton, Greene, Burbadge, Rowley, Peele, and Massinger is forty-nine years and three-tenths. — Ed.
^g2 APPENDIX
(Page 31S) : We might immgine that he has placed the fhjif Ins of Aatoof aad Cleopaira in a moie advantagcoos light than was hrfating, and ckiched the voli^ tnaries with a certain exalted splendour, that becrars a decided paitzabtf for then. Bat whatcTer he did in thb rcsfxct, was nadoahtedlj done, acK horn wool Icvky, hot for aesthetic parpckscs. Had Shakespeare taken Antonj exactlj as he iamaA hni in Plataich, neTcr wonkl he hare been ai^ie to represent hiat as a tnig;ic or ha^e excited an interest in him in his relations with Qeoftttn. ... It is fill, how Sbakc^>eare so prcserred the hitlnnrai iieatares of AmoBj's on the one hand, not to make him nnrecognixahle, and jet, om. the other, to Bake of an attractiTe personage.
Paul Heysk {^lutrwL U Tramu ed. Bodcwstrdi, pL t, 1S67) : Two atfsres are here brov^t in contact, which, in good qoalitics as well as bad, arc as complemental to each other, as thesr dcratiaQ is hi^ above die avenge of A roler of the imirene, who has tasted to the last drop all thM die worid ofiecs hack of toil and of sdf-inddgenoe, Bteets a qoecn who caa abo S7 that BO«hiag alien to her. Both stand at the rcrw highest hcT.<iay of iiie, aad are m faOaess of their pow«rs^ Lof^ bcfcre reaching this pocmt, bo^ woakl have been, ia Bodera phrase. Mkift, Ittd not the iaexhasssibZe, classic life of the each of thcB wi& etenuJ Toai^ Tbos catsre, br a species of to each o&er ; each bdMSds a reoognssed ooBatcrpait ia the oppnale sex. It is ia ho^aiMl pasBioB, which, becaase its the bst, hSaaes ap widi all the iateziBty of
it makes ^ese two matxic
KS ever a Ro^eo or a JafieC, aO daaigeis of ^ear taae. adJ aD dxties of &esr
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lihttt aa£ ^thea nriy car w«^ sase ^d^ a^oaae <rf Kift w^ dae %i^ idm:^ w^n^d:: !&e hirnr rf
GERMAN CRITICISM'-^TEN BRINK 4^3
in us. I must deny myself the illustration by separate examples of that lavish exuber- ance of characteristics wherewith the hand of genius has set forth the figure of the Egyptian Queen. I honestly believe it to be the very greatest masterpiece of female characterisation ; alongside of which there can be placed no more richly devised figure in the whole literature of modem romance, whereof the strength lies in psychologic analysis and vivid contrasts. With equal poetic power and depth is the character of Anthony depicted to the very last; both are to be measured separately, just as both separately are overtaken by a fate so completely interwoven that the flame of passion, which transfigures them at the close with a wondrous glory, reflects its glow back to the beginning of the play and illumines many a shadow. The scholastic view, which turns Shakespeare into a conscientious moralist, above all things anxious to display, in the fate of mortab, the equipoise of guilt and expiation, appears, as it seems to me, in no single play in such embarrassing perplexity as in the presence of this tragedy ; which undoubtedly preaches with a hundred tongues the lesson, in Goethe's striking words, that « self-indulgence and achievement are incompatible.* But a single prin- ciple, founded on experience, and, among others, objectively contained in a poem, cannot on that account claim to be considered the soul of the whole work. If the poet had chosen this material in order to warn the world against being fooled by self-indulgence, because it disables the power of achievement, he would have devised the development very differently. In spite of the gross stain wherewith this hero of self-indulgence, this heroic roui, has defiled himself, his character decidedly over- shadows the discreet, cool, efficient, and, in fact, victorious rival. Extremely few readers will waver in their choice as to which they would give the preference, to the cold-blooded Csesar or to the warm-blooded Marc Anthony. And even an audience of women would not remain insensible to Geopatra's charm. But if a majority could be really found, who, in spite of the tragic downfall, did not cease to deem the aristo- cratic autocracy of these natures as criminal, the minority could console themselves that they had on their own side the poet himself. There arose before him the dazzl- ing apparition of such a pair, that ' stood up peerless,' and it stimulated his creative power. Whatsoever was holy and unholy in such a tie, everything that an average morality could plead against it, was undoubtedly as ever present to him as to his critics of today. And although it may not have stood written in histoiy, his higher comprehension and knowledge of the world taught him the inflexible law that even the most highly endowed man must succumb as soon as he ' would make his will ' Lord of his reason.' Shakespeare, with his incorruptible honesty, neither concealed all this, nor adorned it. Nay, there are traces of even a certain defiance in the sharp prominence given to what is hateful and mean. He allows it freely to unfold itself in sharp realistic features of every-day life. In his heart, however, he is aware that he has but to await the propitious moment to melt all this dross into an irresistible glow and refine it. He could not have been the poet that he is, the richly endowed son of Mother Nature, had he not known himself to be a blood relation to whatso- ever of nobility she had brought forth. When he saw, in this pair, the powers of a luxurious life bloom forth and wither in obedience to the law of all earthly things, a tragic pain broke from his heart, which had no rest until he had adorned their grave with all the treasures of poesy, and, by the most affecting funeral ceremony, rendered their death immortal.
B. Ten Brink (p. 90) : In Antony and Cleopatra^ the third in the series of Roman dramas, we see, for the first time since Romeo and Juliet ^ a woman share on an equal
494
APPENDIX
footing with the principal character in the action of a Shakespearean tragedy. Bat what a contrast between Juliet and Qeopatra : one, a young girl, hardly DX>re than a child, whom the might of a pure and unselfish passion transforms into a womany whose whole being is absorbed by this love which consummates her character and her life ; the other, a courtesan of genius, if I may say so, with experience of life and the world, devoted to pleasure, practiced in all the arts of seduction, endowed by nature with an alluring witchery, to whom the fire of her love for Antony alone lends a glimmer of womanly dignity. Artistically considered, Qeopatra is, perhaps, the masterpiece among Shakespeare's female characters; given the problem, Shake- speare has solved it as no one else could have done. But what conflicts most his soul have endured, what bitter experiences must he have passed through, to have set himself such a problem, to have created a woman so widely different from all those he had pictured before — a woman so devoid of the ideal womanly graces, yet so irresistible, for whose sake Antony sacrifices the dominion of the world.
Carl Philips i^Lokalfdrbung in Shakespeare's Dramm, p. 32, K5ln, 1887) : When we consider all these various points in retrospect, the conclusion is inevitable that Shakespeare, in his climatic and geographical references to the native land of Qeopatra, remains first of all a poet unsurpassed in truth to nature. Every student of geography, even without any thought of Egypt in his mind, would at once assign the land represented in this play to a chartographic zone wherein the climate, the flora, the fauna, and the human race were all thoroughly consistent And at the same time the poet has striven to reflect symbolically, in the character of the land itself and especially in its animal life, the fatal nature of the passion of the hero and heroine — an aim which he has attained with his usual supremacy. Finally, the poet has given, as an illustration, an historical law, founded in the nature of all races. Wheresoever the inhabitants of any country in which nature yields her gifU in lavish, prodigal profusion, suffer themselves, by this profusion to be seduced to a love of pleasure, from that hour they are doomed to decay, and must become subject to an alien race from rougher climates. Without assuming that it was the poet*s first or chief intention to give a proof of this, we can at least assert that, with a small expen- diture of means, he has supplied it At all events, in the drama before us, Shake- speare has penetrated to the creative power of Nature and has overheard her secrets ; with greater truth can he say of himself, what the Soothsayer claims with self- conscious modesty, that 'in Nature's infinite book of secrecy a little I can read.' However widely critics may differ in their views of our poet's artistic power and per- fection they are of one mind in a recognition of the uniformity of his local colouring. In conclusion let me quote the remarks of ROmelin at the close of his criticism of the Roman plays : * Although Shakespeare makes his Roman heroes think and speak
* like English lords and barons,' says Rilmelin,* * he knew how to impart to his plays ' and to his characters a very effective geogrraphic nuance \ if he imagined himself in
* any particular country, his phantasy assumed a certain tinct which diffused itself
* over every object. Throughout Macbeth, Hamlet, Lear there blows a keen north-
* em wind, but in Romeo, in The Merchant of Venice from the very first we feel the 'southern warmth. In like manner, these Roman plays seem to have a similar
* local colour, a warmer tone, as far as they may be said to have any specific tone 'at all.'
* Shakespearestudien, p. 108, 1 866.
FRENCH CRITICISM— PASCAL
495
Karl Frenzel (Berliner Dramaturgies 25 May, 187 1, i, 258) : Qeopatra is of the race of Semiramis and of Zeoobia, between her and Antony there is enacted not merely a love-story but a great political undertaking. Along side of the riotous festivities of Alexandria there was advancing a powerful political and social move- ment which was to shake the world. On this rock, of which he was only dimly con- scious, rather than clearly perceiving it, Shakespeare's poetry was wrecked. It is not the continuous shifting of the scene, whereby we are chased as though by a storm from Alexandria to Rome on board of Pompey's galley, from Rome to Actium, and back to Alexandria ; it is not the messengers, the servants, the guards, who necessarily, by their news, spin out the thread of the action, that break up and shat- ter the dramatic unity ; it is the material itself, as Shakespeare has comprehended it, which has remained in the epic form of a chronicle. The poet has neither known how, out of the numberless persons, to select the most important, nor, out of the superabundance of circumstances, to eliminate the weightiest ; consequently the drama lacks genuine core and deliquesces like pap \breiariig\. In not a single instance is the contrast between Antony and Octavius sharply defined, and the perpetual love- making of the hero and heroine, which rises and falls in a monotonous alternation from tender cooing to furious execrations, is at first comic, but at last tedious. Very possibly, admirers of Shakespeare may accept it differently, but to my taste, a good third of the speeches of Antony and of Cleopatra trenches close on the bombast of the weaker tragedy of G>meille. There is no attempt at a development of character in the grand style; from the beginning to the end, Cleopatra is a quarrelsome woman, who, in the scenes with the messenger and with Seleucus, strikingly proves that, on the old English stage such rdles of Furies and fish-wives could have been played only by young men, for whom they were written.
FRENCH CRITICISM
Pascal (Fensies, Premiire Partie, Article IX ^ No, xlvi) : Si le nex de G6opAtre eftt kXh plus court, toute la face de la terre aurait change.
M. GuizoT {Notice, Translation) : There is in Antony a combination of strength and of weakness ; inconstancy and fickleness are his attributes ; generous, sensible, impassioned, but volatile he affords a proof that, with an extreme love of pleasure, a man of his temperament can, when circumstances require it, combine a lofty soul, capable of the noblest resolves, but who will for ever yield to the seductions of a woman. Cleopatra is the voluptuous and designing courtesan that history depicts ; like Antony she is full of contrasts ; she is, by turn, vain as a coquette and majestic as a queen ; fickle in her thirst for pleasures, and sincere in her love for Antony ; she seems created for him, and he for her. If her passion lacks the dignity of tragedy, — how misfortune ennobles it ! How she rises to the grandeur of her rank by the hero- ism of her last moments ! Worthy indeed, does she show herself to share Antony's tomb !
H. A. Taine (i, 328) : How much more visible is this impassioned and unfettered genius of Shakespeare in the great characters which sustain the whole weight of the drama ! The startling imagination, the furious velocity of the manifold and exuberant ideas, the unruly passion, rushing upon death and crime, hallucinations, madness, all the ravages of delirium bursting through will and reason : such are the forces and
496
APPENDIX
ravixigs which engender them. Shall I speak of dazzling Qeopatra, who holds Antony in the whirlwind of her devices and caprices, who fascinates and kills, who scatters to the winds the lives of men as a handful of desert-<lust, the fatal Eastern sorceress who sports with life and death, headstrong, irresistible, child of air and fire, whose life is but a tempest, whose thought, ever re-pointed and broken, is like the crackling of lightning?
Paul Staffer (p. 398, it seq.) : The subject of Shakespeare's tragedy is the guilty love of Antony and Cleopatra, a subject that would have presented an almost insuperable difficulty to a poor little poet of a narrow and mediocre type ; quite at a loss, and biting his pen the while, he would have said to himself, * What is to be ' done ? Cleopatra is a very wicked woman, a monster^ as Horace calls her, — a ' mixture of all we most hate and despise, she is a coquette, timid, cowardly, cring- ' ing, perfidious, tyrannical, cruel and wanton. To interest decent people in such a ' creature is clearly impossible, except by making a selection from among the contra- ' dictory features of her character, and since Plutarch speaks of hor as being occasion-
* ally generous, tender and devoted, heroic and sublime, I must convert the conception < into the rule, and put an expurgated Qeopatra on the stage.* But Shakespeare reasoned in a very different manner. He started with the notion of Cleopatra as an enchantress, and he trusted with quiet confidence to the power of his poetry, and to his sure knowledge of the human heart, to make the same fascination that she exer- cised over her lovers be felt by us : her faults, her vices, her crimes — what do they matter ? Besides which, it betrays a good deal of simplicity to suppose that certain sins which are repulsive in a man are equally odious when met with in a woman. A man is ugly, and has hard work to atone for his natural ugliness, but, as a poet has said, — and it is no empty compliment, but an astute psychological truth, — women, do what they will, are always charming : * On en pent, par hasard, trouver qui sont
* m^chantes ; Mais qu*y voulez vous faire ? Elles ont la beaut6.' ♦
Shakespeare has not deemed it necessary to leave out any of the stains, big or little, in Cleopatra's character, as he was obliged to do in Antony's ; and this, instead of depriving the lovely little monster of a single charm, only makes her the more irresistible.
FRANgois- Victor Hugo (vol. vii, Introd. p. 9, ttseq,) : That which strikes us in Pascal's memorable apothegm on the destiny of man, is the prodigious dispro- portion between the fact and its consequences, between the means and its results, between the premises and the conclusion. * The cause is a yV ff/ sats quoi and its ' effects are terrifying.' Thoroughly to comprehend this disproportion, let us reduce to its lowest terms the action wherein it. occurs : a spendthrift, smitten with a cour- tesan whom he lavishly supports, decides, in order to repair his fortune, to marry a woman whom he does not love ; hardly has the ceremony been concluded before he returns to his mistress, to consume with her the dower of his wife. The deserted wife seeks the protection of her brother, who, in a rage, challenges the husband. A duel follows ; the spendthrift falls, and the courtesan in despair commits soidde. — Suppose that the events, which I have just described, took place in the narrow circle of bourgeoise life, — what will be the result? A mere domestic tragedy, whereof the catastrophe will affect only some few lives immediately concerned. On the other
* Alfred de Musset.
FRENCH CRITICISM— F.-VICTOR HUGO
497
hand, let these same events occur in the very highest circle of public life ; let the courtesan be called Cleopatra, and let her wear a crown ; let the spendthrift husband be called Antony and reign over the EUist ; and let the brother who avenges the insulted wife be called Octavius and be master of the Occident ; then the whole known world will find itself involved in a household quarrel ; the mourning of one family will bring about the moummg of the human race. The earth will tremble beneath the tramp of armies, the sea under the weight of fleets ; nation will chal- lenge nation and both rush at each other; Alexandria will hurl defiance at Carthage; Rome and Athens will fly at each other's throats. A hundred thousand men, twelve thousand horses, three hundred ships will hardly suffice to uphold the cause of the courtesan ; to the rescue will throng Bocchus, the king of Libya, Tarcodemus, the king of Cilicia, Archelaus, the king of Cappadocia, Philadelphus, the king of Paph- lagonia, Mithridates, the king of Commagena, Adallas, the king of Thrace, Pole- mon, the king of Pontus, Manchus, the king of Arabia, Amynthas, the king of the Lycaonians and Galatheans, Herod, the king of the Jews, and the king of the Medes. Eighty thousand veterans, twelve thousand horsemen, and two hundred and fifty ships will not be too many to uphold the rights of the lawful wife ; Italy, Spain, Gaul will send their legions, and Europe, from Slavonia to the Atlantic, will be in motion. O amazing logic of facts ! Can a cause so puny have such vast results ! Can a lever sufficient to lift the globe be found in the smile of a mad-cap girl ? Marry ! Because a man is enamoured of a girl, because he dotes on a profil iquivoquty forsooth, a universal war must be kindled ! Everywhere mothers must weep for their children, everywhere lovers must be torn from their sweethearts, everywhere hearts must be lacerated. Conscription takes the farmer from his fur- row, the peasant from his cabin, the shepherd from his flock. The press-gang emp- ties houses to fill the galleys ; muleteers, harvesters, travellers on the road are seized by force, — it is Plutarch who tells it ; the desert invades the cities ; War and Chaos, torch in hand, rush over the earth ; the heavens are reddened with a fateful glow, it is blazing villages, lit by squadrons, — the Orient and the Occident, for long ages defiant, have met at last. The shock befell before the promontory of Actium. The Orient recoils before the Occident.
(Page i6) : Shakespeare for ever brings back the interest to this sovereign figure which gives to the work its unity. Present or absent, Cleopatra pervades the entire drama. Even at the feast which the young Pompey spreads for the Triumvirs aboard his galley, even at that monstrous orgy where wine turns the head of the noblest, where Lepidus rolls under the table, where Antony staggers and where Caesar stam- mers, it is Qeopatra who, unperceived, presides. Qeopatra is the fatal enchantress who initiated Rome into the startling mysteries of oriental voluptuousness. She is the invisible sorceress who sweeps the masters of the globe into the dizzy whirl of an Eg3rptian bacchanal. . . . Cleopatra is the supreme type of seduction. The spell which she weaves is the greatest triumph of feminine magic. Her sisters, the other heroines of Shakespeare, attract us only by their virtues and by their qualities ; she, she enchants us by her very faults, her very weaknesses. . . . Fully assured of the irresistible charm of his heroine, the poet does not, for a single instant, suffer us to be under any illusion. From the very beginning of the drama, at the moment when she enters on the arm of her lover, he tells us what she is with the utmost frankness. < Look/ he cries, ' and you shall see in him The triple pillar of the worid transform'd * Into a strumpet's fool.' Away with reticence, away with ambiguity! Shakespeare has neither the timidity of Comeille nor that of Dryden ; he does not evade the sub-
498
APPENDIX
ject, b« faces it fnll front. He does not deny his
a ' stnunpet * that he installs on the scene ; it is to a «
interest ; it is for a * stmmpet ' that he drmands oar pity ; it is fai
« strampet * and her Iotct that he exacts our teazs. Omnipntimce of
drama, where an ootiaged wife reclaims her rights froaa a
wife who enlists oor srmpathj, it is the coortesan ! She
not OctaTia« the austere, the chaste ; it b this light o' love
as a * moffs^ cold upon dead Cesar's trencher.* But by
been enabled to produce snch a diange in dK coosdeiaces of the specatfnes«
concentrate on Qeopatra all the sympathy that should be due ID Octtvm ? To
this mtrade Shakespeare needed to teil nnrhfng but the tench ; he had mseiy aa
reveal to ns the profonod sentiment which inspired his heroiae. CXeupntia had m
her hcnit the flame that purines erenrthing : she loves. It is by Love that the osval
awuteaan stands revealed ; it is by love that she is rrhahilfftited. Ay, this Annmy
whom she teases, whom she torments whom she maddens^ As Anoony whoni at one
■onant she abjures and unscmpaloasly deceives wkh ThyreBS. she lowes hmt. ihe
kyves him t§ distraction. Do voa doubt ? listen. The anmifr that Ascony is
absent, Cleopatra is utteriy desolate. She thinks only of him, she speaks only cf
him ; she intozicates herself with mamizagoca to sleep oot the great g;ip of hii
( IHge so) : In Ptotarch Antony lives long with Ocbma, in Shakespeare the riage was a mere formality. Who does not see in this pervesiaa of hisaory, by the hand of geninsv a feature of rmufsife delicacy ? The poet wooid not snfier ha boa to be for a single rnstant unfaithful to his heotne ; he has mat penmtaed a n^ treason, even if legalised, to profime this mnmtwrd adultery. To Shakespeare, the union of Antony snd Octxvia was never anght else than an ephememl h^nf'M by policy ; but his union with Cleopatta is on everlaslfng compart, sealed by Thns the poet does not hesitate to sacrifice the first to the secomL In his eves, thit iriiich sanctifies the relations between man and wonam is less social aaavendoa thn the natural law. Let two beings love each odxei; let them live the one for the other* that is sufficient : they are affianced for ever, aH odfeer engagmncstt tti the contrary notwtthstancfing. In the eyes of poateoty. as in "sfcaii •w^ ■■in-^ ^Si^t. ww of Antony is no longer Ocinvia, it is Qeopatza. The «'■«*■— *J>j uf the pasBos is its
What a cootsast between Antony and Cleopatra, Romeo and Joiiec. are voung^ knral, and cantfid ; there is never a wrinkle on their brow their heart ; their characters are pure like their aftctxon ; their souls are as viigta their bodies. Their accord is a continuous effiiaion of tendemes; k is an duet with DQt a murmur of (fiscord. What he dreams, she sees; what aJ he accepts^ Sighs answer to sighs^ tears to tears^ kisKs to kisses^ The ■'"■m«^«<* of the Christian lovers is equaled only by the corraptian of the pagan Iovok. Aatoof is as vicious as Romeo is homrst : Cleopatra is as diasolnse as Juliet a ^h*— Thr ^amoni q( the Roman and the Egyptian is the evrl conjunction of rwo great souls wkidk afasoittce power has made monstrous : tins union is aumhie like tiie aoxm, cuna like a debauch* dishevelled !ike on orgy. The nations crushed by diea^tisux coo* template with terror this Titamc ps^sion which roaisdiove their heads and hmstsfonfc in bolts of lightning. Deiweeu the Triumvir and the Queen of Egypt there aie oaff ^uarreiB» recnnunations, aarc3soB» invecnves ! But wimt does it matter I They la^ aach other ; ami audi is the grandeur of thcu- love that we foiget thor
CRITICISM— ANTHONY— TRENCH
499
Oar compassion rebels against onr equity, and the death of Antony and Qeopatra wounds us as sorely as the death of Romeo and Juliet. In sooth, the same fatality which hurries on the latter, drives on the former. For the one as for the other, suicide is a necessity. The likeness between the two catastrophes is such that it seems as though in preparing them, destiny had plagiarised itself. This sur- prising analogy has not been adequately considered, which, even in the details, pro- Tokes comparison. The two dhtoi^ments take place amid the same funereal scenes ; on the one hand it is the tomb of the Ptolemies, on the other the tomb of the Capu- lets. Run down by adversity the pagan lovers, like the Christian lovers, are driven to bay at the sepulchre ; it is to the sepulchre that they betake themselves ; at the sepulchre is their last tryst. In the two dramas, the same error is followed by the same consequences: Antony believes Geopatra dead and kills himself; Romeo believes Juliet dead and kills himself. The attachment of the women keeps pace with the devotion of the men ; both refuse to save themselves. The one resists the solicitations of Caesar, the other the prayer of Friar Laurence. * I trust only my ' resolution,* says one, as she applies the aspic. * I will not away ! ' cries the other, and she seizes the poniard. Conclusion sublime 1 Between these two couples who have lived so differently, infinite love has suppressed all differences ; it effaces all dis- tinction between the innocent and the guilty; it makes the dying Egyptian the equal in agony of the Veronese, it gives to adultery the august majesty of marriage. * Hus- 'band, I come.' Yes, the same name that Juliet gives to Romeo, Cleopatra at last conquers the right to give to Antony ; at the moment when she kills herself for him, she may well be permitted to call him her husband. The two lovers in dying have exchanged the kiss of an eternal betrothal. Between her and him, there is no more separation to be feared, no divorce possible. . . . Entombed by their conqueror, Antony and Qeopatra repose side by nde in the nuptial grave. Death has been their mar- riage.
I Anthony
Rev. Dr R- C. Trench (Plutarch^ etc., London, tlSyj, p. 56): The Antony of history, of Pknarch himself, would have been no subject for poetry. Splendidly endowed by nature as he was, it would yet have been impossible to claim or create a sympathy for one so cruel, dyed so deeply in the noblest blood of Rome, the whole- sale plunderer of peaceful cities and provinces that he might squander their spoils on the vilest ministers of his pleasures ; himself of orgies so shameless, sunken in such a mire of sin ; in whom met the ugliest features, and what one would have counted beforehand as the irreconcilable contradictions, of an Oriental despot and a Roman gladiator. And yet, transformed, we may say transfigured by the marvellous touch, the Antony of Shakespeare, if not the veritable Antony of history, has not so broken with him as not to be recognizable still. For the rest, what was cocu^e is refined, what would take no colour of goodness is ignored, what had any fair side on which it could be shown is shown on that side alone. He appears from the first as not himself, but as under the spells of that potent Eastern enchantress who had once held by these spells a Caesar himself. There are followers who cleave to him in his lowest estate, even as there are fitful gleams and glimpses of generosity about him which explain this fidelity of theirs ; and when at the last we behold him standing amid the wreck of fortunes and the waste of gifts, all wrecked and wasted by himself, pene- trated through and through with the infinite shame and sadness of such a close to such a life, the whole range of poetry ofiers no more tragical 6gure than he is, few that
joo APPENDIX
arouse a deeper pity ; while yet, ideal as this Antony of Shakespeare is, he is cod> nected by innumerable subtle bands and finest touches with the real historical Antooy, at ODce another and the same.
Cleopa tra
A. Skottowe (ii, 240) : Shakespeare has not been snccesslul in conveying an idea of the elegance of Cleopatra's mind. Neitho* her manners, thoughts, dot lan- guage, impress us with a conyiction of her possessing those accomplishments which [Plutarch] ascribes to her.
Mrs Jameson (ii, p. 120, e/ seq,) : Of all Shakespeare^s female characters, Mir- anda and Qeopatra appear to me the most wonderful. The first, unequalled as a poetical conception ; the latter, miraculous as a work of art. If we could make a regular classification of his characters, these would form the two extremes of simplicity and complexity ; and all his other characters would be found to fill up some shade or gradation between these two. Great crimes, springing fi-om high passions, grafted on high qualities, are the legitimate source of tragic poetry. But to make the extreme of littleness produce an effect like grandeur — to make the excess of frailty pfodnoe an effect like power — to heap up together all that is most unsubstantial, frivolous* vain, contemptible, and Tariable, till the worthlessness be lost in the magnitude, and a sense of the sublime spring from the very elements of littleness, — to do this, belonged only to Shakespeare, that worker of mirades. Cleopatra is a brilliant antithesis, 1 compound of contradictions, of all that we most hate, with what we most admire. The whole character is the triumph of the external over the innate ; and yet like one of her country's hieroglyphics, though she present at first view a splendid and per- plexing anomaly, there is deep meaning and wondrous skill in the apparent enigma, when we oome to analyze and decipher it But how are we to arrive at the solntioB of this gloiious riddle, whose dazzling complexity continually mocks and eludes us? What is most astonishing in the character of Qeopatra is its antithetical construction — its comnstmt incomsisUncy^ if I may use such an expression — ^which renders it quite impossible to reduce it to any elonentary principles. It will, perhaps, be found ob the whole, that vanity and the love of power predcminate ; but I do not say it tr so^ for these qualities and a hundred others mingle into eadi other, and shift, and chai^ie, and glance away, like the colours in a peacock's train. In some others of Shakespeare's female characters, also remarkable for their complexity (Portia and Juliet, for instance), we are struck with the delightful sense of harmony in the midst of contrast, so that the idea of unity and simplicity of effect is produced in the midst of variety; but ia Qeopatra, it is the absence of unity and simplicity which strikes us ; the impresBoo is that of perpetual and irreoondleable contrast The continual approximatkxi of whatever is most opposite in character, in situation, in sentiment, would be fatiguing, were it not so perfectly natural : the woman herself would be distractii^r, if she were not so enchanting. I have not the slightest doubt that Shakespeare's Qeopatra is tlie real htstorical Qeopatra — the ' Rare Egyptian ' — individnaliaed and placed bdbre as. Her mental accomplishments, her unequaUed grace, her woman's wit and womao'i wiles, her irresistible allurements, her starts of irregular grandeur, her bnxats of ungovernable temper, her vivadty of ixruiginaticm, her petulant caprice, her fickleaesf and her falsehood, her tenderness and her truth, her childish sosoeptibility to fiattoy, her magnificent spirit, her royal pride, the goigeaas eastern cokNuing of the dlB^
CRITICISM— CLEOPA TRA— HEINE
SOI
acter ; all these contradictory elements has Shakespeare seized, mingled them in their extremes, and fused them into one brilliant impersonation of classical elegance. Ori- ental voluptuousness, and gipsy sorcery. What better proof can we have of the individual truth of the character than the admission that Shakespeare's Qeopatra pro- duces exactly the same effect on us that is recorded of the real Cleopatra ? She dazzles our faculties, perplexes our judgement, bewilders and bewitches our fancy from the beginning to the end of the drama, we are conscious of a kind of fascination against which our moral sense rebels, but from which there is no escape. The epi- thets applied to her perpetually by Antony and others confirm this impression:
• enchanting queen ! * — * witch ' — * spell ' — ^ great fairy * — * cockatrice * — * serpent of
• old Nile * — * thou grave charm ' — are only a few of them. ... In representing the mutual passion of Antony and Cleopatra as real and fervent, Shakespeare has adhered to the truth of history as well as to general nature. On Antony's side it is a species of infatuation, a single and engrossing feeling : it is, in short, the love of a man declined in years for a woman very much younger than himself, and who has sub- jected him by every species of female enchantment. In Qeopatra the passion is of a mizt nature, made up of real attachment, combined with the love of pleasure, the love of power, and the love of self. Not only is the character most complicated, but no one sentiment could have existed pure and unvarying in such a mind as hers ; her passion in itself is true, fixed to one centre ; but like the pennon streaming from the mast, it flutters and veers with every breath of her variable temper : yet in the midst of all her caprices, follies, and even vices, womanly feeling is still predominant in Cleopatra ; and the change which takes place in her deportment towards Antony, when their evil fortune darkens round them, is as beautiful and interesting in itself as it is striking and natural. Instead of the airy caprice and provoking petulance she displays in the first scenes, we have a mixture of tenderness, and artifice, and fear, and submissive blandishment. Her behaviour, for instance, after the battle of Actium, when she quails before the noble and tender rebuke of her lover, b partly female subtlety and partly natural feeling.
The Cleopatra of Fletcher reminds us of the antique colossal statue of her in the Vatican, all grandeur and grace. Qeopatra in Dryden's tragedy is like Guido's dying Qeopatra in the Pitti Palace, tenderly beautiful. Shakespeare's Cleopatra b like one of those graceful and fantastic pieces of antique Arabesque, in which all anomalous shapes and impossible and wild combinations of form are woven together in regular confusion and most harmonious discord : and such, we have reason to believe, was the living woman herself, when she existed upon this earth.
H. Heine (v, 288) : For Qeopatra is a woman. She loves and betrays at the same time. It is a mistake to believe that women when they betray us have ceased to love. They follow only their inborn nature ; and if they do not wish to empty the forbidden cup, they like at least to sip from it, or lick the brim, just to see what poison tastes like. . . . Yes, this Qeopatra is a woman in the blessedest and cursedest sense of the word ! She reminds me of that saying of Leasing, < When God made woman < He took too fine a clay ! ' The extreme delicacy of His material seldom agrees with the requirements of life. This creature is at once too good and too bad for this world. Most charming attractions are here the cause of most repulsive frailties. With enchanting truth Shakespeare depicts, even at the first appearance of Qeopatra, the variegated fluttering spirit of caprice which is always rampant in the brain of the beautiful queen, not seldom bubbling over in the most notable questions and desires.
502
APPENDIX
and is perhaps really to be regarded as the final cause of all her actions and behaTioor. . . . From the excited, unbalanced mind of Cleopatra, made up of extremes shuffled together, a mind oppressively sultry, there flashes, like heat-lightning, a sensuous^ wild, and brimstone-yellow wit, which frightens rather than pleases. Plutarch gives us an idea of this wit, which shows itself more in deeds than words. . . .
The surroundings of Cleopatra are as intensely witty as her character. This capricious, pleasure-seeking, ever-veering, feverishly coquettish woman, this antique Parisienne, this goddess of life, scintillated and ruled over Egypt, the stark^ul^ land of the dead. You know it well, that Egypt, that Mixraim full of mystery, that Nile with its narrow valley, looking like a coffin. In the high reeds grins the croc- odile, or the exposed babe of Revelation whimpers. Rock temples with colossid pillars, whereon appear caricatures of sacred animals of horribly varied hues. At the portal nods a monk of Isis, with hieroglyphic head-gear. In luxurious villas, mum- mies take their siestas, and the gilded masks protect them from the swarms of carrion flies. There stand slender obelisks and squat pyramids, like dumb thoughts. In the background we are greeted by the Ethiopian mountains of the Moon, hiding the sources of the Nile. Everywhere Death, Stone, and Mystery. And over this land, there ruled as queen the beautiful Cleopatra. How witty God is !
Charles Bathurst (p. 131) : The character of Cleopatra is fully like that of a queen, in boldness, pride and command. But not at all otherwise. Her passions are those of a mere ordinary woman, who has no respect for herself. This may have been the case in fact with many queens, in private, because they have less to control them than other people ; but it certainly ought not to be so represented. Her love for Antony is much inferior in depth, steadiness, and sincerity to his for her : but this was required by the events of the history. However, Shakespeare has put some very fine things here and there in her speeches, has made her interesting throughout, and winds her up at the last, partly by showing the attachment of her attendants to her, most magnificently.
Henry Giles (p. 143) : With more commanding sweep of character and intel- lect, we have impassioned womanhood in Geopatra. Wonderful she is in her grand and dazzling loveliness. Full of soul, full of power, and full of poetry, she is the very majesty of voluptuousness ; she could beat Antony himself in the strength and endurance of carousal. 'O, tiroes,' she says, * I laughed him out of patience, and *■ that night I laughed him into patience, and next morning, ere the ninth hour, I 'drunk him to his bed.' Ambitious, yet sensuous ; cunning, yet intellectual ; insid- ious, yet bold ; high and daring in her aims, she contrives to combine politics with pleasure. Keen in her understanding, yet gorgeous in her imagination, she knew how to conceal a plan within a pageant, and her pageantry was the pageantry of a goddess. Vehement as she was subtle, her pleasures were as ocean-tides; they surged up from the dark depths of her impassioned soul. Daughter of the Ptolemies, queen of olden and mystic Egypt, with the rich genius of Greece and the hot blood of Africa, she was at once poetess, sovereign, and enchantress ; grace, mingled with force, concealed the grossness of her excess ; something of the artistic entered into the wildest extravagance of her luxuries : even in her vices she was brilliant and imperial. It was meet that her lovers should be masters of the world ; with no lower suitors would imagination be content to mate her. If she must bend her sceptre to the sword of Caesar, it was still right that he should bow his head to the royalty of
CRITICISM— CLEOPA TRA—MASSEY 503
her beauty : his was the victory of force, hers of fascination ; he was strong in his legions, she was strong in herself; he conquered the world, and she conquered him. The august and godlike Julius humbled himself before her. The impetuous and magnificent Antony became a mere child to her command. What measure shall we find for that combination of womanly witchery and womanly genius, the result of which we observe in the subjugation of two such men as haughty Julius and incon- stant Antony ? It required the mind of Shakespeare properly to conceive it, and by Shakespeare only it has sufficiency of expression.
Gerald Massey {Secret Drama, etc., 1872, p. 482) : There was a woman in the North, whom Shakespeare had known, quite ready to become his life-figure for this siren of the east [Qeopatra] ; her name was Lady Rich. A few touches to make the hair dark, and give the cheek a browner tint, and the change was wrought. The soul was already there, apparelled in befitting bodily splendour. She had the tropical exuberance, the rich passionate life, and reckless impetuous spirit ; the tower- ing audacity of will, and breakings-out of wilfulness ; the sudden change from still- ness to storm, from storm to calm, which kept her life in billowy motion, on which her spirit loved to ride triumphing, although others went to wreck; the cunning — past man's thought — to play as she pleased upon man's pulses ; the infinite variety that custom could not stale ; the freshness of feeling that age could not wither ; the magic to turn the heads of young and old, the wanton and the wise I Her * flashes of nature ' were lightning-flashes I A fitting type for the witch-woman, who kissed away king- doms, and melted down those immortal pearls of price — the souls of men — to enrich the wine of her luxurious life ! The very < model for the devil to build mischief on,* or for Shakspeare to work by, when setting that ' historic abstraction * all aglow with A conflagration of passionate life, and making old Nile's swart image of beauty in bronze breathe in flesh and blood and sensuous shape once more to personify eternal torment in the most pleasurable guise. The hand of the Englishwoman flashes its whiteness too, in witness, when she offers to give her 'bluest veins to kiss,' forgetful that it was black with ' Phcebus' amorous pinches.' The ' lascivious Grace, in
< whom all ill well shews.* ( — Sotmet 40) is that ' serpent of old Nile,' who was cun- ' ning, past man's thought ; ' she who is asked, in Sonnet 150, — *■ Whence hast thou
* this becoming of things ill That in the very refuse of thy deeds. There is such
* strength and warrantise of skill That in my mind thy worst all best exceeds?' is the same person, of whom it is said in the tragedy, ' the vilest things become
* themselves in her ; ' the lady addressed in Sonnet 96—* Thou mak'st faults graces ' that to thee resort, As on the finger of a throned Queen, The basest jewel will
< be well esteemed ; So are those errors that in thee are seen To truths trans-
* lated, and for true things deemed — ' is one with the ' Wrangling Queen, Whom
* everything becomes, to chide, to laugh. To weep : whose every passion fully strives <To make itself, in thee, fair and admired! ' This verisimilitude is not casual, it comes from no inadvertence of expression, but goes to the life-roots of a personal character, so unique, that the Poet on various occasions drew from one original — die Lady Rich.
Edward Dow den (p. 312) : We do not mistake this feeling of Qeopatra towards Antony for love; but he has been for her (who had known Caesar and Pompey), the sopreme sensation. She is neither faithful to him nor faithless ; in her complex nature, beneath each ibid or layer of sincerity lies one of insincerity, and we cannot
C04 APPENDIX
tell which is the last and innermost Her imagination is stimulated, and nourished by Antony's presence. And he in his turn finds in the beauty and witchcraft of the E^ptian, something no less incommensurable and incomprehensible. Yet no one felt more profoundly than Shakspere, — as his Sonnets abundantly testify, — that the glory of strength and of beauty is subject to limit and to time. What he would seem to say to us in this play, not in the manner of a doctrinaire or a moralist, but wholly as an artist, is that this sensuous infinite is but a dream, a deceit, a snare. At every moment in this play we assist at a catastrophe — the decline of a lordly nature. At every moment we are necessarily aware of the gross, the mean, the disorderly woman- hood in Cleopatra, no less than of the witchery and wonder which excite, and charm, and subdue. We see her a dissembler, a termagant, a coward; and yet 'vilest * things become her.' The presence of a spirit of ii/e in Cleopatra, quick, shifting, multitudinous, incalculable, fascinates the eye, and would, if it could, lull the moral sense to sleep, as the sea does with its endless snakelike motions in the sun and shade. She is a wonder of the world, which we would travel far to look upon.
F. S. Boas (p. 475, et seq.) : Cleopatra is among Shakspere's women what Fal- staff is amongst his men. Both have the same infinite complexity of nature in which seemingly contradictory qualities are reconciled, and both the same paradoxical grandeur compounded out of all that is most morally worthless. Fascination radi- ates equally fix>m either personality, and as Falstaflf, when completely bankrupt in honour and fortune, is still the knight and the gentleman, so Cleopatra, guilty of the most detestable and squalid forms of misconduct, remains every inch a queen. In the Boar's Head Tavern and in the Palace at Alexandria a similar struggle is being waged : the venue is changed, and the weapons, but an identical principle is at stake. Falstaff had sought to defeat moral facts by the dazzling play of an inexhaustible humour ; Qeopatra substitutes the no less dazzling play of an inexhaustible persona] charm, wherein beauty, as Plutarch expressly states, was only a minor element Per- fect beauty could indeed scarcely be the portion of this < gipsy,' with * Phoebus' amor- <ous pinches black,' but she has the more talisman ic gifts of perennial youth and endless versatility of attraction. . . . Antony's names for her, ' serpent of old Nile,' and ' great fairy,' testify to a spell that seems wellnigh more than human. Yet its potency really springs from her unabashed revelation of a womanhood dowered with every captivating attribute save those which have a moral source. The Qeopatra of Shakspere, and indeed of Plutarch, anticipates a type of which the modem stage is often supposed to be the originator. This demi-mondaini bom in the purple, with her hot and cold fits, her mingled restlessness and languor, her passion at once false and tme, her lavishness and her avarice, her seductive wiles varied by outbursts of ferocity or coarseness — what essential aspect of courtesan-nature has the realism of today discovered which is not to be found in this wonderful picture ? Fate provides for a unique manifestation of the myriad possibilities of Qeopatra's character when it throws Antony into her toils. In her youth she had been Caesar's paramour, but to the conqueror and statesman this dalliance had been only an interlude amidst the serious work of war and government. Antony is of other mould, and is, in fact, as completely the masculine counterpart of Cleopatra as Benedick was of Beatrice. The emotional homage which in earlier days he had lavished on Caesar is now poured forth yet more unreservedly at the feet of the Egyptian Queen. In her, Antony finds a being who satisfies the boundless craving of his richly endowed sensuous nature. Yet this passion, so mutually enthralling, so opulent of delight, is not, in any true
CRITICISM— CLEO PA TRA— BRADFORD
50s
% lore. The souls of Antony and Cleopntra have never for one moment mingled. The gox^eous fabric of their bliss totters from hour to hour on an unstable foundation. Antony is always on the watch for treachery on the part of the ' gipsy,* and Cleopatra is ever fearful that her paramour will be drawn from her side by his bond as a hus- band, or his ambition as a ruler.
G. Bradford, Jr. i^Poet Lore^ Vol. x. No. 4, 1898, p. 529) : The exact proportion of madness and sanity in Hamlet must always remain a question, and so with Cleo- patra. I, at least, do not feel clear as to her good faith to Antony. That she loves him there is no doubt at all, loves him as she is capable of loving. But it is more than doubtful whether she kills herself for love of him or in sheer desperation to avoid the scorn and vengeance of Caesar. I greatly fear that if she had been confident of Caesar's favour, confident of reigning in Rome as she had reigned in Alexandria, Antony's poor dust might have tossed forgotten in the burning winds of Egypt. And ]ret, I do not know, — who can know ? That is precisely what gives the character its charm. History leaves us in the same doubt Shakespeare may have had no definite opinion on the point Qeopatra may not have considered it herself. She adored Antony. She had the pride of her race. She would not see, * Some squeaking Cleo- ' patra boy her greatness,' and she dies as she lived, a supreme mystery.
OCTAVIA
Mrs Jameson (ii, pp. 169-174) : I do not understand the observation of a late cntic, that in this play ' Octavia is only a dull foil to Qeopatra.' Cleopatra requires no foil, and Octavia is not dull, though in a moment of jealous spleen, her accom- plished rival gives her that epithet ' The sober eye of dull Octavia.' — V, ii. It is possible that her beautiful character, if brought more forward and coloured up to the historic portrait, would still be eclipsed by the dazzling splendour of Cleopatra's : for so I have seen a flight of fireworks blot out for a while the silver moon and ever boming stars. But here the subject of the drama being the love of Antony and Qeo- patra, Octavia is very properly kept in the background, and far from any compe- tition with her rival : the interest would otherwise have been unpleasantly divided, or rather Cleopatra herself must have served but as a foil to the tender, virtuous, dignified, and generous Octavia, the very btau-ideal of a noble Roman lady — *■ Admired Octavia, whose beauty claims No worse a husband than the best of men ; ' Whose viitue and whose general graces speak That which none else can utter.' . . . The character of Octavia is merely indicated in a few touches, but every stroke tells. We see her with < downcast eyes sedate and sweet, and looks demure,' — ^with her modest tenderness and dignified submission — the very antipodes of her rival ! Nor ihoold we forget that she has furnished one of the most graceful simiies in the whole compass of poetry, where her soft equanimity in the midst of grief is compared to * The swan's down feather That stands upon the swell at flood of tide. And neither 'way inclines.' The fear which seems to haunt the mind of Qeopatra, lest she iboold be ' chastised by the sober eye ' of Octavia, is exceedingly characteristic of the two women : it betrays the jealous pride of her, who was conscious that she had forfeited all real claim to respect ; and it places Octavia before us in all the majesty of that virtue which could strike a kind of envying and remorseful awe even into the bosom of Qeopatra. What would she have thought and felt, had some soothsayer Ibfetold to her the late of her own children, whom she so tenderly loved ? Captives, and exposed to the rage of the Roman populace, they owed their existence to the
5o6
APPENDIX
geneioas, adminble OcUtU, in whose mind there entered no pttitide of littli She leceiTed into her hoose the children of Antony and Qeopatza, edncftted them with her own, treated them with troly maternal tenderness, and married them noUj.
OCTAVJUS
Paul Staffer (p. 409) : In the whole range of historical dgnres it would be difficult to find one more disagreeable, more ugly, and more rqmisiTe than Caesar^s nephew, OctaTios, who afterwards became the renowned Angnstis, so rhanfrd and glorified by the poets. Not that he was a monster of wickedness ; comparatively speaking at least and placed by the side of the more thorough-going raflians who were members of his august family, he could hardly be called so. But from a poet- ical point of view this is just where his fault lies ; had he been more frankly and boldly wicked he would have been less detesuble. Schiller has very truly remarked that a robber gains, poetically speaking, by being also a murderer, and that a man who lowers himself in our aesthetic esteem by some paltry rascality, may raise himself by the conmiission of a great crime. But in a mean shirering creature, who osed to regale himself upon an ounce of bread and a few dried raisius, and in winter wore four tunics under his toga, it is impossible to feel any vivid interest Military cour- age, we know, was not one of his rirtues. His favourite maxims ' Precaution is bet-
* ter than boldness,' ' Make haste slowly/ etc were of much the same unheroic char- acter as the saying that Louis XI. was so fond of repeating : ' In war the honour is
* his who gains the most by it' . . . He has often, like many other persons whose whole wit consists in preserving a judicious silence, been taken for a deep thinker, but his solemn and mysterious manner only hides the emptiness beneath. Nothing is more irritating for purposes of analysis than this kind of colouriess character, which has nothing original or worth studying about it, and which defies all definition, because its indefinite and varying features cannot possibly be brought into any sort of unity. For instance, Octavius was cruel from inclination as well as firom policy, and several instances of his cruelty are related by Suetonius which Caligula himself might have envied : but he had his moments of moderation and clemency notwithstanding, and it is to one of these slight attacks of generosity that he owes the reputation of magnan- imity which he has obtained through the too great benevolence of Cometlle, who was ever on the watch for what was grand and noble. The death of his enemy Antony inspired him, according to Suetonius, with feelings of delight, but according to Plutarch, he withdrew into his tent and wept and lamented. Shakespeare here, as always, follows Plutarch ; but his conduct is not of the slightest importance, nor is it even necessary to suppose that his tears were h3rpocritical : with this thin coating of sensitiveness he might easily be affected for an instant by the ' breaking of so great ' a thing.* A passive instrument in the hands of fortune, tame and colouriess, with- out one ray of poetry in his nature, Octavius both in history and in Shakespeare is an absolutely vapid and insipid personage. To take him as the representative of an iron will, cold, patient, and certain of his aim, as some commentators have done, and to contrast him with the lavish splendour of a brilliantly gifted nature, whiried away by a fatal passion, like that of Antony, is assuredly to do him too much honour. We meet with many practical men of action in Shakespeare's plays who are tolerably worthy of forming a contrast to the more poetical but less sensible hero, sudi as Fortinbras in Hamlet^ Alcibiades in Timon of Athens^ and Cassius xn JmUms C^sar; but we may be allowed to doubt whether Octavius had any very real practical merit, and whether the appearance he had of it was not entirely due to the egr^ioos folly
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— JO DELLE 507
and infatuation of his opponent, bj force of contrast with which, the faintest signs of ability or wisdom would become magnified. When Antony, after his defeat, challenged Octavius to single combat, it was not necessary for him to be a wise man, to shrug his shoulders at a challenge so obviously absurd, — not to be a hero was quite sufficient It was not Octavius, but the star of his destiny that won the battle of Actium : Cleopatra look flight, her lover followed her, and Octavius, as usual, had only to let the gods act for him. At most, he only fills in the tragedy the place of the principal agent in Antony's predestined downfall.
DRAMATIC VERSIONS
In 1552 there was published in France a drama called Cleopatre Captive^ which was the first tragedy to appear in the French language. It was written l^ Estiennb JoDELLE, 'fieur du Lymodin,' who was bom in Paris in 1532, and died at the age of forty-one in 1573, when Shakespeare was nine years old. In construction this tragedy was modelled on the Drama of Seneca ; in some respects it shows the influ- ence of the Greek tragedians also,— the Chorus shares in the dialogue, which is rare, I think, in Seneca, and, in the Second Act^ it is divided into Strophes and Anti- strophes. Its Dramatis Persona are as follows : The Shade of Antony, Cleopatra, Eras, Charmium, Octavian Csesar, Agrippa, Proculeius, Chorus of Alexandrian Women, Seleucus. The First Scene is laid in Purgatory, smd consists of a sol- iloquy by the Shade of Antony who laments the sad fate brought on him by the gods, through their jealousy of his greatness ; he reviews his past life, and his fatal infatuation for Cleopatra, whom he bitterly denounces. Purgatorial fires having already had some effect, the Ghost laments his cruel treatment of his wife, Octavia, mnd furthermore,
* I chased my tender children from my sde
And warmed that murderous serpent in my bosom
Which coiled about me, and deceived my soul.
While pouring deadly venom o'er my life.* * — p. 1 10, recto. Bat he is resolved that he will not remain all alone in torment ; before the sun, DOW rising, sets, Qeopatra must die. He has appeared to her in a dream, and com- manded her, after having given his corpse an honourable burial, to kill herself, ' Or* se faisant compagne en ma peine et tristesse
Qui s'est faite long temps compagne en ma liesse ; * — p. no, verso, which has really a show of justice and fair play. In the next Scene Cleopatra rehearses to Eras and Charmium, the events of her life, much in the same style as Antony had narrated his past story, but, not having had as yet the advantage of Purgatorial flames, her remorse is not so deep. She refers with terror to her dream, and decides that Anton3r's commands must be obeyed; moreover, every horror is to be endured rather than be taken to Rome for Ca^ar's triumph. The Chorus, at the close of the Act^ shows a close imitation of Seneca by beginning with a description, by no means vrithout charm, of a sunrise and an opening day. It inevitably chal- lenges comparison with the fine description by the Chorus at the end of the First Act in the Hercules Furens^ beginning, 'Jam rara micant sidera prono Languida
*A recent writer (Atkemaum, II August, 1906), in speaking of blank verse, says with truth, * it is criminally easy to write it execrably, and almost impossible to *■ write it well.' Here, and in the translations, in blank verse, from the French, Ger- Bnan, and Italian of the following Versions ^ I enact the criminaL
5o8
APPEXDIX
* mmidov* etc In the oezl Act OctxviBS boasts to A^npfM sad pmndear aad of his mighty ezplofts» begnmmg widi the that oo ooe mder heavea's cope has been so fitvooiei hf the fods But his career will be incomplete if he cannot take Geopatia Ftocaleins describes the maniiiT in which he c^jtszed the doadj follows Flntarch. OctaTins bids hia dxsposBcss Oerntn of all ««'•*'** In die Third Act there is a conicscBce The latter displays the letters of Jnfins Caesar, '
sahed Dion Casrim as well as Flstarch. In Ck.: atn's ff*^^ in her Lunentatioos ior AntDoj, and in her bitter lot. the dmna ri>cs» I think, to its hig^feest poiai of f i m iTj Qeopatra, addressing OctarioBy pliinti^ely befiss:
' Unless the cnefL iaDOSoMcd in arr breao. Far, &r ssrpasBed this final piaznt cf BBBe Thaw wooldst act see thj poor star at ftj No words of BBK are ctjaal to the i^iie^ Which, dirabbrns. has hwmiiuiiT ae aZI X J tears, bt moaiK, and all Jut thon surprised that uis word
Has power to oat
I
Tosepara[e! ^ma^\ I
If this sad war bad aolr
It had been belter fiar 3ie
To have *^'*p »*Tif froai kcsr <^»"r"tf fii^
His uGBEi pier cwriiT i&en ka^e been paevcBlBd!
Icnaid have wixdeiz of aC czwel b&0w%
Becase I hod the
Ofsecs^niaul
Btat BOW a haiiii'red. — bna&ed-
r«esB&Kcd&aKi&BshiBErwar; br it
r^ kxt orr bafsL mm ifiiy^iVaa aif mf^l
Aai I ha^e seen okt jde. axai
.\mL Mmfing as ^e wsk j2t aoid
tD ^aiTu. knn wtfh. arv- own. hot
I aeeds amst !t«e I 5ar oat m tatke
I ^aj»e JBt jaiii x jiAuuii a> kSl
wff sace tis ocjoc vhac T smturor 3rv Kfif
Ami rbaL in 3ie ±s ji«e of l£e
Tjuaaa&e ai iMik sx^oit this
Whtf caac^^esselF jmseanns hdhneifkiv
A£ JsBi[;. •? CesoL Jet asr
CiuBce a *j^i>*uL. ivhiasGS wnL
Stis jjowiu^ im^ wnl viiirwuj
on ±5 IhoBC ibbi KSB has« as dfaa?* — yi
DRAMATIC VERSIONS^JODELLE 509
In this one Scene there is, I think, a tragic human cry, deeper and more sincere than is to be found in the CUopatras of many of Jodelle's successors who have achieved more fame. Octavius remains, however, unmoved, and recounts all the misdeeds in Oeopatra's career, but finally assures her that her life and the lives of her children shall be spared. Out of gratitude the queen says that she will disclose to Octavius all the gold and jewels in her treasury. Hereupon Selencus comes for- ward officiously, as he does in Plutarch (in Shakespeare Qeopatra appeals to him), and asserts that Cleopatra has concealed wealth incalculable. The Scene that fol- lows in Plutarch, where Cleopatra falls into a rage with Seleucus, proved to Jodelle too attractive to be omitted ; consequently he inserted it at length, although so much action is in general alien to the Senecan tragedy. By this one venturesome stroke Jodelle has shown his appreciation of Cleopatra's nature, and has imparted action, life, and character to his drama which give it a high place, earliest though it be of French tragedies, when compared with those subsequently written under Senecan influence, with Qeopatra for a theme. As Jodelle's Works are very scarce (the first edition appeared in 1 552, — my copy is dated 1583), it may not be displeasing to reprint this fragment of the Scene. Jodelle's close adherence to Plutarch can be observed only in the original French ; it would be lost in a translation. Seleucus has finished his accusation and at once Cleopatra's anger breaks forth :
' Cleopatra. A faux meurdrier I a faux traistre, arrach^
' Sera le poil de ta teste cruelle.
' Que pleust aux Dieux que ce fust ta ceraelle I
« T\k traistre, ti6. Sil. O Dieux ! CI. O chose detestable I
* Vn serf vn serf! Oct. Mais chose esmerueillable ' D'vn cceur terrible. CL £t quoy, m'accuses tu?
* Me pensois tu veufue de ma vertu
* Comme d' Antoine ? a a traistre I Set. Retiens la,
* Puissant Cesar, retiens la doncq. CI. Voila
■ Tons mes bienfaits. hou I le dueil qui m'efforoe, ' Donne i mon coeur langoureuz telle force,
' Que ie pourrois, ce me semble, froisser
* Du poing tes os, & tes flancs creuasser
* A coups de pied. Oct. O quel grinsant courage I
* Mais rien n'est plus fiirienx que la rage
■ D'vn coeur de femme. £t bien, quoy, Cleopatre ?
* Estes voQS point ia saoule de le battre !
* Fuy t'en, ami, fuy t'en. CL Mais qooy, mais quoy?
* Mon Empereur, est-il vn tel esmoy
' Au monde encor que ce paillard me donne ? ' Sa licheti ton esprit mesme estonne, ^
* Corome ie croy, quand moy Roine d'ici, < De mon vassal suis accusee ainsi,
* Que toy, Cesar, as daign6 visiter.' — p. 225, veno^ ed. 1 583.
Selencus repents, and in a dialogue with the Chorus confesses that death would be preferable to the memory which piust be always his that he has so deeply wounded and offended his queen and mistress.
The Fourth Act is almost wholly given up to the bitter lamentations of Qeopatra. At the close there are four lines which I think are touching :
5IO
APPENDIX
' Cmr entre tout le mal, peine, doolevr.
Sonars, regrets, soods, que \ aj soi&ft
r cstime le phis giicf oe iHeii petit de tcHjs
Que de tor, A Aatoipe, csloip»er ie me scbs^' Tbe ^/?i ^4^ is divided bet»em Procaleiiis and tbe m-belmed vith grief, describes bov lie brake into tbe McnaBcat and VtmA Qeo- patn and Exas dead andCbanniaa djing, viiboot a trace of tbe came of tbesr dettb. Later on, in wondcrii^ bow be shall bteak tbe aevs to Oeaaz, be asks if it be pa»- sSAe tbat she conld bave died bj an a^ic's bite or bf aonae aecvet poisoe. Tbe Cboivs pmxixses to tbe dead Qcopatn an ctexiuij of iiae in eweij laitd vbicb tbe sm brixilds frcm bis ropr davn to bis daAened icsL
Coaipariscms berveen waTJTnil Ijlpaluies ate idle; tbarfare, aiter irraTfaig ibe fact tbat Grrhitau^ oar eaxiiest tragedy, vas vnnen in 1562, jnst ten 5 Jodd3e*s CieMticTrr^ h seems to me a saSoert ccnchtskm ^lax tbe laser as a in dnonatic txagedr is as ocigin of wbicb anj Tuntfuie magbt be mcae dsan >
Tisx !CIXT Tragedr, c^aroaaotkigicallT, vberein Qeopncza appeal^ is tbal bv ^^ GAX.KIIX, ^-vtKxnZurr ^ Xrr iii wfi wum * ^rarno/ crtmsmei mm su:^ frai^mJ 6r semt- *kamssge am Mmxmr^ It is caPed Jf, ^af lawL;. and was pg&fa^ied in 157&. lufanedtiK popnlaTttT of Gsmier's other pbrjns wbkii dnnx^ tbe isSkming ueimaj wese ii.yiiiulf'd act tbe vemailcabk sate c£ an e£:icm everr two ^eaaL * JUL AnSu:mt bad tbe hcmam cf beii^ translated br ^>e Connies of Pembraike, 5ar Aol^ Sidas^ s sister, in 1592. To ns. S^iakesaiesre smdenSk, ^ns ti a inflation is t£ imiaatanrr l2s date renders it IXKSBble liua it msr bsvr Yieen rend ly SSbakesvaie. But 2* Skakc^aeare ever Vioked into ii. I dunk be nnd no itulbea dkaa to &e end tifbtt Aj* mwmim\ wbeR be iramd ibe sta^anetc tbat Ganner bad dsaim lus Tnatrnal fraa Fhztandb, — an aaple nobce tbat, ia Tmnffrial ibr bis plar^ die F;n^iiA ^1 siiilia caaild gsn nortimg fnm
Of onnne« Gamier tock Seneca as bis model, cxoest ftac be ajj^imilr &oask daat if ooie CbniB> was good two wnnld be Irf tri . — a Inanrr in wbic^ I befiewe, Seneca never xndnlged. Ganner bas a Ousis of ^jjaiaiK and awrlw 1 of Gear's aoldier& Imwnmrb as die tiiie of die -pksx is M, Amsams^ it wiO bardhr sadbct dtf Aninrr aboo)d he, as u: lodeDe's in^edy. a Shafie, wincb nho' aH mar be a scasce cf ic^JiA ^ne Irvini^ man ^nieazs ooihr twice during die pbnc T^ie ./vnf ^4*7, of < Twr bondrrd and tbxnr ImrL. is one Ino^ Innnhiinns mmelagne by lua. be eaahs bis^ nwi: iame and pmwea^ bewails bis na^is denraiall, and Oeoiioxia^s dr;:«itfii] ime and treaz^ierc. Hs; aecnnd aiyeaiance is in die Ajz m^Msveii^ with Ijicuiis as a£ occasiomd imeAocstia; be cnndnnes, ia ahnot de mme number nf Im^, die same mnnmfiii! stxmn, bcD wi& an open canfcaBOB tbtf le nmnnc emanctnate hin»elf bnn: Cleanatxa^ dnaDdnm. It ^ in die ccaBar of dis A*": tbat be Knzavs die Tesent seadn^ (ti bis Hame w^ien be savs : " Car Tier tan: ne tnurmmtr vn Idtme ec la nesere 0*»e «e Tgrnesemgr sa imtnne praarare." — p. xo^. ed. xt»in. Witb ar bimesct^ hewnnL make be imts disae lines m oantaxinT. mmds^ Tbt bomtf^. i Tepye.: tr- sn^. l^ nrc abrwr h^ tbe Fos CbonK, xn dms d^stmgnsfixnp foliowtnf: linfs .
the admnahir I^ifr*^u: ir xbt Conmes of T^embrake^ Amtmmu^ edned. «^ ar. IntyodantMiTk hr Au<'S I~\7i of Bonor^ IftaairbMetg \ ^ICcsbbc, X%C* 1^ 5^
DRAMA TIC VERSIONS— GARNIER
5"
* Heurenz qui iamais n*eut de vie Ou que la mort d^s le berceau Luy a, pitoyable, rauie, L'emmailluttaDt daus le tombeau.'— p. 171.
which recall the words of the Chorus : \ifi ^vvat r^ arravra vticg XSyov^ etc. in the (Edipus Colonem of Sophocles, line 1225, et seq.
From the very structure of the dramas formed on the Seneca model, it is vain to expect any development of character beyond that which twenty-four hours may effect Qeopatra appears in two Scenes, and what she is in the former she is in the latter, — a woman deeply in love with Antony, freely acknowledging that she entan- gled him in her snares (and a little proud of it), and completely heart-broken that Antony should think she had been treacherous to him. In describing her flight at Actium she utters two lines which remind us and merely remind us, of Shakespeare ; in referring to Antony's pursuit, she says that he was
* Oublieux de sa charge, & comme si son ame Enst est6 attach^e i celle de sa Dame.' — p. 178.
The reason she gives for her flight and for her decision to be in these wars, was her extreme jealousy, lest Antony should return to Octavia. See III, vii, 23, supra.
In the Fourth Act Antony's death (described as in Plutarch), is narrated to Gesar by Dercetas. The Fifth Act is devoted to Cleopatra, who takes leave of her children, and although continually asserting her intention to kill herself, we have no infor- mation as to when, or where, or how she at last fulfills it. The Act begins as follows :
* Cleopatra. O cruel Fortune ! O acciu^*d disaster 1 O noxious love ! O torch abominable !
O ill-starred pleasures ! O caitiff* beauty I O deadly grandeur, deadly majesty 1 O hapless life I O pitiable queen ! O Antony, through my fault, to be biuied !
0 heavens too malign ! alas ! all blows And rancour of the gods are come upon us ! Ill-omened queen 1 O would that I had ne'er Beheld, alas I the wandering light of day 1
1 am a plague and poison to my dear ones I I've lost the ancient sceptre of my fathers I This kingdom I've enslaved to foreign laws. And of their heritage deprived my children.
Yet this is nought, alas 1 all nought, compared With loss of you, dear spouse \^E5poux\ by me ensnared^ Of you, whom I misled, and then constrained By bloody hand, to lie in mouldring tomb. Of you whom I destroyed, of you, my dearest lord. From whom I took all honour, empire, life !
O harmful woman I H^ I can I live on, Locked up within this grisly, haunted tomb? Can I breathe on ? and can, oh, can my soul Continue, in such grief, within my body? O Atropos, O Clot ho, fatal spinners ! O Styx, O Phlegethon, infernal rivers ! O Daughters of the Night I ' — p. 220.
5 1 2 APPENDIX
Oeopatra confides her children to Euphronius, with the pnijrer that he will wander with them over the face of the earth rather than suffer them to (all into Caesar's power. She then takes leave of them, as follows :
' Who knows but that your hands, to which false Fate Once gave the promise of the Latin sceptre. Shall bear, instead of it, a crooked sheep-hook, A mattock, or a goad, or guide the plough ? Then learn to suffer, children, and forget The glory of your birth, and bend to fate. Adieu, my babes \enfan^on5\ adieu, my heart's oppressed With pity, grief; already death has pierced me ! I cannot breathe ! Adieu for evermore ! Your sire or me you'll never more behold. Adieu, sweet care, adieu !
Children, Madame, adieu !
Cleopatra, Hah ! that voice kills me. Bons Dieuz, I faint ! I can no more. I die.
Eras, Madame, would yon
Succumb to sorrow ? alas, pray speak to us ! Euphronius, Come children. Children, We come.*— p. 222.
Charmion and Eras at last succeed in reviving the Queen. Thereupon all three begin to bewail Antony, and continue so doing for seventy lines, during which Char mion is fearful lest their tears should give out, and suggests that they keep on ciyiz^ 'tant qu'aurons quelque humeur.' At the end of the seventieth line occurs the fol- lowing passage which I think noteworthy. It is Cleopatra who is speaking :
* By our true loves, I pray thee, Antony,
By our two hearts, once kindled with sweet flames.
Our holy marriage [Par nostre saint Hymen'\ and the tender pity
For our small children, pledges of our love.
That to thine ears my mournful voice may fly
And that on Pluto's shore thou wilt escort me,
Thy wife, thy friend ; hear thou, O Antony,
Where'er thou art these sobbing sighs of mine.' — ^p. 224. It is not a little remarkable, I think, that in more than one of these eariy versioiii Cleopatra refers to Antony as her husband. Here we find an open reference to their * holy marriage.' No other version that I can recall has spoken thus explicitly. Cleopatra continues :
* Till now, I've lived as was decreed by Fate, I now have run my wingdd course of years ;
I've flourish'd; and I've reign'd ; I've taken vengeance
On that proud foe, who holds me still in scorn.
Happy, thrice-happy had it been for me
If never fleet of Rome had touch'd these shores !
And now of me a phantom great shall go
Beneath the world, to bury all my woe I ' — p. 225. Cleopatra here anticipates the line which Virgil, in the Fourth Book of the MnH, will put into Dido's mouth, * Et nunc magna mei sub terras ibit iroaga' The qoeeo continues in this strain for about twenty lines; among them are the following:
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE
sn
* Le plus aigre toannent qu'en mon ame ie sente, Est ce peu que ie suis de toy, mon coeur, abseote/
which show that she had been lately readiDg her Jodelle. She then concludes :
* Since I no more can sprinkle him with tears, — Ah woe, those founts in me are all drawn dry, — What is there left, alas ! but lavish kisses ?
O fairest eyes, my light, then let me kiss you !
O brow, proud honour's seat ! fair, warlike face !
O neck I O arms 1 O breast where death
Just now, black deed, has struck the murderous blow I
A thousand kisses, and yet thousands more,
Accept as my last duty to your fame.
And in such office let my nerveless frame
Breathe forth my soul and wither on thy breast* And this is all. With this line the Tragedy ends.
Qeopatra's character is not altogether colourless, but is as far removed as possible from any Shakespearian glow. Her love is boundless, her self-reproach endless, her self-abasement abysmal, her knowledge of mythology extensive, and, had we not had some experience with Jodelle, we should consider her achievement in sol- iloquy phenomenal. After jrour spirit is once fairly broken, you can read on and on with a tepid gentle excitement that is not unpleasing. The Choruses are always lyric, with occasional passages of genuine poetry. In all the incidents of the play Plutarch is closely followed, and at all times there is a subtle consciousness that you are in the hands of a scholar.
The familiar fact has been already mentioned that this tragedy of Gamier was * done into English ' by Mary Sidney, Countess of Pembroke. It was published in 1592. That it is ' done into English ' is true, but it is done into awkward English, which well might merit a stronger adjective when we recall some of the finished poetry of her brother, Philip. She sedulously maintains the ten syllables of an iambic pentameter ; but to do this, all customary order of words is at times violated. In the following selection I think and I hope I have given the translation at its best Passages written in stichomythia are unusually difficult to translate. The orig- inal French is throughout (except in the Choruses) in rhymed Alexandrines. With a few exceptions, her Ladyship uses rhyme only in the stichomythic passages. Char- mian and Eras are dissuading Geopatra from suicide :
< CAar. Que seit k son malhenr [1. f. Antony's] cette amour etemelle?
Ofc. Qu'elle seme, ou soit vaine, elle doit estre telle.
£r. Cest mal lait de se pcrdre en ne profitlt point
C/eo, Ce n'est mal fait de suyure vn amy si conioint.
£r. Mais telle affection n' amoindrist pas sa peine.
CI. Sans telle affection ie serois inhumaine.
CA. Inhumain est celny qui se brasse la mort
C7. Inhumain n*est celuy qui de miseres sort
CJk. Vraes pour vos enfans. CT. Ie roonrray pour leiir pere.
CA, O mere rigoureuse ! C/. Espouse debonnaire !
£r, Les voulez-vous priuer dn bien de leors ayeax ?
C7. Les en priu^-ie? non, c'est la rigueor des dieux.' — p. 182, 1616. The tranalatioo of the Countess of Pembroke is as follows :
33
5 14 APPENDIX
' Char. What hdps his wrack this euer>lastiiig lone ? CI, Help, or help not, such must, such ought I prone. Char, 111 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. CI. Not inhumaine who miseries eschues. Ch, Liue for 3rour sonnes. CI, Nay, for their father die. Cha, Hard hearted mother I CI. Wife kind-hearted I. Ch, Then will you them depriue of royall right ? CI, Do I depriue them? no, it*s dest'nies might' — p. 75, ed. Luce.
GiRAix>i CiNTHio, in 1583, follows Gamier, chronologically. His Cleopatra^ published in that year, I have not succeeded in obtaining. Klein {lialiamdU Dratnen^ V> 352)t gives a short account of it ' It is conceivable,' he says, *nay, ' possible, perhaps even not improbable, that Shakespeare was acquainted with it* But the instances that Klein cites in confirmation are among those which Shake- sp>eare derived from Plutarch, and are therefore necessarily common to both dramas MoELLER (p. 12) gives a fuller account of Cinthio's Tragedy y and proves Klein's account to be erroneous in several particulars. But whether we accept Moeller's abstract or Klein's, the latter's general conclusion beats truth on the face of it:
* Shakespeare's Anthony and Cleopatra in comparison with Cinthio's Cleop€Ura is like
* the barge of purple and gold on the river Cydnus, and a little paper boat which a < boy sails in a gutter.'
In 1594 the excellent poet, Samuel Daniel, put forth a third edition of his Sonnets y addressed to the imaginary, or at least unknown, fair * Delia ^^ and in the same volume appeared, for the first time, The Tragedie of Cleopatra. Danid's poems were deservedly popular, and this Tragedy appeared in the successive editions of them, in 1599, 1601, 1605. 1607, and 1609 ; in 1611 the Tragedy was issued in a separate impression. * So many successive editions imply a wide circle of reados, and the supposition is not violent that in this circle Shakespeare was included. Were it so, he would have found one of the very few dramas in the English language, modeled throughout on the drama of Seneca, which, even in its severest form, still has a power to charm.
As far as any dramatic aid is concerned, Shakespeare could have found none whil- ever in Daniel's Tragedy, There is no action in it The whole of the First Ad is a soliloquy by Cleopatra. The Second is a dialogue between Caesar and Proculeinsw The Third is another between Philostratus and Arius, and so on. Not even docs Cleopatra's death take place on the stage; it is described by a trusted servant, tbc same who had brought her the basket of figs wherein the aspics were concealed. Whatever influence Daniel had on Shakespeare must be detected not in any action, but in similarity of thought or expression ; of this, with two or three possible excep- tions, I can find no traces that are indubitable, or even worthy of serious consider- ation. Naturally there are passages from Plutarch, even following the very words, which are common to both poets, but therein it is Plutarch, not Daniel, whom Shah-
♦ Daniel, fVorhs, iii, 3, ed. Grosazt
DRAMATIC VERSIONS^DANIEL 515
tpemre has followed. One of the exceptions to which I have alluded is where the messenger, < Nuntins,' describes his interview with his mistress when he brought her the basket of figs :
* Well, in I went, where brighter than the Sunne, Glittering in all her pompeous rich any.
Great Cleopatra sate, as if sh' had wonne Casar, and all the world beside, this day : Euen as she was when on thy cristall streames, Cleare Cydnos^ she did shew what earth conld shew ; . . • Euen as she went at first to meete her lone, So goes she now againe to finde him. But that first, did her greatnes onely proue. This last her loue, that could not Hue behind him.' — ^p. 84* Thus Shakespeare's Cleopatra says,
* Shew me, my women, like a queen ; go fetch My best attires. I am again for Cydnus
To meet Mark Anthony.' — V, ii, 274.
Again Daniel's Qeopatra speaks of herself as Anthony's wife. She b address- ing the spirit of the dead Anthony to intercede for her with the gods, and thus adjures him,
' O worke they may their gracious helpe impart, To saue thy wofull wife from such disgrace.' — p. 73.
Again there is a faint fleeting similarity in the two following passages. Thus Daniel's Qeopatra :
< . . . . now am I taught
* In death to loue, in life that knew not how.' — p. 38.
Thus Shakespeare's :
' My desolation does begin to make
• A better life.'— V, ii, 2.
Daniel's Cleopatra calls Anthony ' My Atlas.' — p. 32 ; Shakespeare's calls him * The demi- Atlas of this earth.' — I, v, 28.
There is a certain passage in Shakespeare's play which has given rise to some discussion on the score of its meaning. It is where Anthony moralises on the death of Fulvia and says : * The present pleasure, By revolution lowering, does become 'The opposite of itself.' — I, ii, 145. Can it be that this is a condensation of the following lines in Daniel which were hovering in Shakespeare's memory ?
* Thus doth the euer-changing course of things Runne a perpetuall circle, euer turning : And that same day that hiest glory brings,
Brings vs vnto the point of backe -returning.' — ^p. 52.
And I think these are all. That Shakespeare had read Daniel's Cleopatra is of course possible ; that it is even probable, is not impossible ; but that he was indebted to it, or was influenced by it, in the faintest degree, in the delineation of any of his characters, is, I think, chimerical.
Daniel published in 1599, among his Poems, A Letter from Octatda to Marcus Antontus, which is, to me, unattractive and lacking in earnestness, and with no trace whatsoever of any influence on Shake^)eare.
5i6
APPENDIX
I have deemed it beyond the scope of a study of the present play to set forth any dramatisation of Qeopatra's story, wherein the scene is laid before the period when Antony fell in love with her. Accordingly, no notice is here taken of the Mort tie Pompie, 1638, by Chaulmer ; ♦ nor of Corneillk's Pom^e (written in 1643 f ) nor of its translation by the * Matchless Orinda,' in 1678 ; nor of Colley Gibber's Oaar in Egypt i I725> a composite of Comeille's Pompie and Beaumont and Fletcher's The False One ; nor, in our own day, of Casar and Cleopatra by Mr Bernard Shaw. An exception is to be made, however, in favour of The Falu One. Scarcely has there appeared in recent years an annotated edition of Shakespeare that does not contain a reference to it in connection with Anthony and Cleopatra. It was written about 1620; it seems to be pretty generally conceded that Massinger wrote the First and Fifth Acts and Fletcher the rest Why it should take its title from a thoroughly repulsive character, a man utterly false and devoid of any moral prin- ciple, who killed his benefactor, Pompey, and is not the hero of the piece, it is not easy to imagine. The play deals with Julius Csesar and his subjection to the charms of Cleopatra. The story, briefly told and omitting all reference to <the false one,' is that Csesar, in pursuit of Pompey after the battle of Pharsalia, reaches Egypt, and there finds that Ptolemy, to make himself more secure as mon- arch on the throne, has 'committed to safe custody' his sister, Qeopatra, who by law was his equal in the government When Cleopatra learns that Caesar is at hand, she resolves to win him to espouse her cause against her brother. How she was by stealth conveyed to his tent, concealed in a mattress, is a well-worn story, together with the consequent subjection of Csesar to her fascinations. In order to impress Caesar with a knowledge of Egypt's boundless resources, Ptolemy foolishly attempts to dazzle his Roman guest by a display of wealth. This occurs in Act III^ Scene iv, as follows : Caesar, Antony, and others enter on the upper stage, Qeopatra appears, and Antony cries, * The young queen comes : give room ! ' Caesar responds, * Welcome, my dearest ; Come, bless my side.' Then Ptolemy and his courtiers enter, also on the upper stage.
* Ptolemy. Hail to great Caesar !
My royal guest, first I will feast thine eyes
With wealthy Egypt's store, and then thy palate.
And wait myself upon thee. {^Attendants bring in treasure beUm,
Casar. What rich service !
What mines of treasure ! richer still ! Cleopatra. My Caesar,
What do you admire ? pray you, turn, and let me talk (0 you :
Have you forgot me, sir ? how, a new object !
Am I grown old o' the sudden ? Caesar ! Casar. Tell me
From whence comes all this wealth ? Cleopatra. Is your eye that way,
And all my beauties banish'd ? Ptolemy. I'll tell thee, Caesar;
We owe for all this wealth to the old Nilus. . . .
Casar. The matchless wealth of this land I
* Pompie par P. Comeille, edited by Professeur FftLIX H&MON, 3ieme ed. Paris, 1897. Introduction^ p. 16. | Op. eit.^ p. 21.
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— THE FALSE ONE
SI7
Cleopatra. Come, you shall hear me.
Casar. Away ! let me imagine.
Cleopatra. How ! frown on me I The eyes of Caesar wrapt in storms !
Casar. I am sorry : But, let me think. . . .
Cleopatra \^Aside.'\ A little dross betray me ! . . .
Casar, The wonder of this wealth so troubles me, I am not well. Good night . . .
Cleopatra [Aside."] Well, I shall yet find a time to tell thee, Csesar, Thou hast wrong' d her love.' This fragment is given that it may fitly introduce the following Scene which is, I think, the finest in the play :
* Act IV, Scene ii. T%e Apartments <^ Cleopatra fit the Palace, Enter Qeopatra, Arsinoe [her sisterly and Eros [her maid],
Ars, You are so impatient !
Cleo. Have I not cause ? Women of common beauties and low births. When they are slighted, are allow* d their angers : Why should not I, a princess, make him know The baseness of his usage ?
Ars. Yes, 'tis fit : But then again you know what man —
Cleo. He is no man ; The shadow of a greatness hangs upon him. And not the Tirtue : he is no conqueror ; H'as suffered under the base dross of nature ; Poorly delivered up his power to wealth. The god of bed-rid men, taught his eyes treason ; Against the truth of love he has rais'd rebellion, Defied his holy flames.
Eros. He will fall back again. And satisfy your grace.
Cleo, Had I been old. Or blasted in my bud, he might have shewed Some shadow of dislike : but to prefer The lustre of a little earth, Arsinoe, And the poor glow-worm light of some faint jewels, Before the life of love and soul of beauty, Oh, how it vexes me ! He is no soldier ; All honourable soldiers are Love's servants : He is a merchant, a mere wandering merchant. Servile to gain ; he trades for poor commodities. And makes his conquests thefls. Some fortunate captains That quarter with him, and are truly valiant. Have flung the name of Happy Caesar on him ; Himself ne*er won it : he is so base and covetous. He'll sell his sword for gold.
5i8
APPENDIX
Ars, This is too bitter.
CUo, Oh, I could curse myself, that was so foolish. So fondly childish, to believe his tongue, His promising tongue, ere I could catch his temper ! I had trash enough to have clo/d his eyes withal, (His covetous eyes,) such as I scorn to tread on. Richer than e'er he saw yet, and more tempting ; Had I known he had stoop' d at that, I had sav*d mine honoar, I had been happy still : but let him take it. And let him brag how poorly I am rewarded ; Let him go conquer still weak wretched ladies : Love has his angry quiver too, his deadly, And, when he finds scorn, armdd at the strongest. I am a fool to fret thus for a fool, An old blind fool too ; I lose my health : I will not, I will not cry ; I will not honour him With tears diviner than the gods he worships ; I will not take the pains to curse a poor thing.
Eros. Do not ; you shall not need.
CUo, Would I were prisoner To one I hate, that I might anger him ! I will love any man, to break the heart of him, Any that has the heart and will to kill him.
Ars, Take some fair truce.
Cieo, I will go study mischief. And put a look on, arm'd with all my cunnings, Shall meet him like a basilisk, and strike him. Love, put destroying flames into mine eyes. Into my smiles deceits, that I may torture him. That I may make^him love to death, and laugh at him I
Enter ApoUodorus.
Apol, Caesar commends his service to your grace.
CUo, His service ! what's his service?
Eros, Pray you, be patient ; The noble Caesar loves still.
CUo. What's his will ?
Apol. He craves access unto jrour highness.
CUo, No ; Say, no ; I will have none to trouble me.
Ars, Good sister —
CUo. None, I say ; I will be private. Would thou hadst flung me into Nilus, keeper. When first thou gav' st consent to bring my body To this unthankful Caesar !
Apol. 'Twas your will, madam. Nay more, your charge upon me, as I honoured you. You know what danger I endur'd.
CUo. Take this, [Ghnng a jevtel.
And carry it to that lordly Caesar sent thee ;
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— THE FALSE ONE
There's a new love, a handsome one, a rich one, One that will hug his mind : bid him make love to it ; Tell the ambitious broker, this will suffer —
ApoL He enters.
Enter Caesar.
Cieo. How !
Casar, I do not use to wait, lady ; Where I am, all the doors are free and open.
Cieo. I guess so by your rudeness.
Casar, You are not angry ? Things of your tender mould should be most gentle. Why do you frown ? good gods, what a set anger Have you forc'd into your face 1 come, I must temper you : What a coy smile was there, and a disdainful ! How like an ominous flash it broke out from you ! Defend me Love ! sweet, who has anger* d you ?
Cleo, Shew him a glass : that false face has betiay'd me, That base heart wrong'd me.
Casar. Be more sweetly angxy. I WTong'd you, fair ?
Cleo, Away with your foul flatteries ! They are too gross. But that I dare be angry, And with as great a god as Caesar is. To shew how poorly I respect his memory, I would not speak to you.
Casar, Pray you, undo this riddle. And tell me how I have vex'd you ?
Cleo, Let me think first. Whether I may put on a patience That will with honour suffer me. Know, I hate yoa ; Let that begin the story : now, I'll tell you.
Casar, But do it milder : in a noble Lady, Softness of spirit, and a sober nature. That moves like summer winds, cool, and blows sweetness. Shews blessdd, like herself.
Cleo. And that great blessedness You flrst reap'd of me : till you taught my nature. Like a rude storm, to talk aloud and thunder. Sleep was not gentler than my soul, and stiller. You had the spring of my affections. And my fair fruits I gave you leave to taste of; You must expect the winter of mine anger. You flung me off, before the court disgrac'd me. When in the pride I appear* d of all my beauty. Appear* d your mistress ; took into your eyes The common strumpet, love of hated lucre. Courted with covetous heart the slave of nature. Gave all your thoughts to gold, that men of glory. And minds adorn* d with noble love, would lack at :
519
J20 APPEXDIX
Soi<fios of Tora] muk scorn sndi hue Beantj and liaooiir are the marks tbej sbooc I spake to joo then, I coorted jroo, aad voo'd y CalTd Toa ** dear Carar," hvng abost joa tenderif. Was prood to appear yocr fncoJ —
Crii«r. Yoa bare wigakrn aae.
Ot?. Bat nether ere, ncir £ftToiir, not a ^aile. Was I bless'd b«ck vidi, fast shook off ndelr; And. as ]noa had been solo to sovdid isiiLKj, Yoa {mSl before the xBases ox' tieaswe. And in jonr sool joo vorshipp^d : I siood s&gbledv Focpxten, axxl oietemn^'d : mj soft embraces^ And duae sweet kisses joc calTd ESraoB, As IcClea viit m snd, no oacre irmrwbrr'd ; Tb< naae and giofj of vocr Cleopafra Laogb^d at, and nnde a saorr to joor captains: SZtan Icndnre?
Cc3«r. Yo« are decesT-'d m all lbs; Upon mr life, jxtq are : 'tas joor Back Icndemcsa.
CU*. Xo, DO ; I k:ve noC that vaj ; jon are ooaei^d : I love widi as aiach amhirinn as a caoqaersf; And. wboel Io«e» vill tirauufi
Cmsot. So Ton shall ; SI T heart shall be the ^axiot that shaC bev jon ; AU I ^Te von shall wait opoa von. — Bf &e {od^ [Aziie.
Dear ^stress sbaH I bat this
Ofy. Hov, Caesar! Have I let sir? a seaacd ^nes thee hope?
Ctiar. Yo« shall be
And lagB alone as qneen; von shall be anj
Ge9. FazeveC imfbanfcfiJ !
CK>tr. SfiiT.
C2nr. I vOf ncc
Cea«r. I cLuiuat-wL
CZev^ Owiniaialy and fo nkhuut^ k. I do ccmnwnrt rior be mr save far evcx; voile I Lxn^ at taee.
Ca». It 3 d?o laoe : -nest I hare fincad thee afaaoftiie^ that cuie lepurts Offe, and 3;> me. Xar be I shall think better. FseweiL conpaerar ! * [jEaxc
r tzE the eihi of the p&aiv Oessr s thumhta aac acts are dimAii to mself &ana oe doa^cs dL an msarTedioa cf oe Alexnadrana, v^ beskjsed dfee F^aace and thrctfsaed desh 33 aC itt mmntes. Oesar and a iiev 01 lies sends sncceed in ^ Jitti'iB|^ the"r vay 9o his ship&. ^olcmiv anempKs to fiQu^^v, nai is oi£ down and CEsnpted !d -^'>'**'^ Cxsar ivfiuus vitk his Il^hju^ F^^
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— MAY
521
the hemds of her two greatest enemies. His last words recur to the close of the Scene, given above. ' And now, my dearest,' he says as he turns to Qeopatra,
* Look upon Caesar, as he still appeared [qu. appears /] A conqueror ; and, this unfortunate king Entomb'd with honour, we'll to Rome, where Caesar Will show he can give kingdoms ; for the Senate, Thy brother dead, shall willingly decree
The crown of Egypt, that was his, to thee. [^Exeunt,*
It remains only to add that here and there, throughout the play, we hear Shake- spearian echoes, such as where Qeopatra says, ' and for thy news Receive a favour * kings have kneeled in vain for. And kiss my hand.' — I, ii; again Sceva thus describes Qeopatra, * She will be sick, well, sullen Merry, coy, over-joy'd, and seem ' to die. All in one half-an-hour.' Again, in the foregoing extract, where Qeopatra saysy ' Had I been old, Or blasted in my bud,' there is an echo of Constance's lament for Arthur in King John.
Of all the Versions with which I am acquainted. The Tragedie of Cleopatra Queen of Egypt ^ Written by Thomas May, Esq., London, 1654, * is the weakest and least imaginative. I know of no source wherefrom gratitude for it can spring, except from Citoyen Morgues, who is saved by it from being at the very bottom of the list In the First Act we learn of the dissatisfaction among Antony's generals in Alex- andria, caused by the lavish way in which Antony bestows provinces on Cleopatra. There is also a feast given by Qeopatra, who entreats her guests to be ' freely merry,' which must have been * a sweating labour,' if the following * Song,' introduced with- out prelude in the midst of the feast, indicates the height of revelry : ' Not hee, that knows how to acquire But to enjoy, is blest Nor does our happinesse consist In motion, but in rest
' The Gods passe man in blisse, because They toile not for more height ; But can enjoy, and in their own Etemall rest delight
* Then, Princes, do not toile, nor care ;
Enjoy what you possesse.
Which whilest you do, you equalize
The Gods in happinesse.'
Antony thus describes Qeopatra' s appearance on the Cydnus :
* And down the silver stream of Cydnus^ thou In Venus shape cam'st sayling, while the aire Was ravish'd with thy Musick, and the windes In sunorous gales did kisse thy silken sayls. Thy maids in Graces habits did attend.
And boys, like Cupids^ painted quivers bore, While thousand Cupids in those starry eyes Stood ready drawn to wound the stoutest hearts.'
* For a copy of this Tragedy I am indebted to the courtesy of the Library of The University of Pennsylvania. — Ed.
5"
APPENDIX
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DRAMATIC VERSIONS-^MAY 523
of nnalteiable love, and at last threatens to resort to * the lovely aspe ' which she has kept to saTe her from Caesar, but will now apply against a ' worst fo/ — Antonins's baseness. Antony relents, apologises, and orders Thjrreus to be released. In the Fifth Act Csesar and Qeopatra have an interview ; the latter throws upon Fate the guilt of her past actions, and Caesar bids her still live in all her regal state, and whis- pers directions to Epaphroditus in reference to it. Whereat Qeopatra, aside :
* Yes, whisper on ; you cannot over-reach My jealousies : no signes of love at all.
No smile, nor amorous glance ; I was deceiv'd.
And meerly coosen'd by base Thjrreus.' As a result of the interview, Caesar, extremely forehanded, provides two • Psyls,' as May calls them, to ' suck the mortall venome ' from Cleopatra in case she should die by an asp. Cleopatra writes to Caesar infonning him that by the time he receives the note she will be no more, and then q)eaks, as follows :
* So now my trouble is renaov'd, I come, I come my dearest Lord An/omius, Never till now thy true and (aithfull love. My much abused Lord, do not disdain Or blush t' acknowledge Cleopatra^ % name
When teais and bk>ud have wash'd her spotted sooL Wert thou alive again, not all the world Should shake my constancie, or make divorce Twixt thee and mee ; but since too late, alas, My tears of sorrow come, I'll follow thee. And beg thy pardon in the other world. . . . Though false to thee alive, I now am come A faithfull lover of thy dust and tombe.' When we next see her, she is crowned and < takes her state' ; Antooy's hearse is
brought in.
* This/ she says, ' is my second Coronation day ; But nobler then the first, and fuller faire
Of reall hoix>ur, and magnificence.
Nor till this pompous houre was Cleopatra
A perfect Queen.' When Charmioo reminds her that Antony is dead, Qeopatra denies it, and says that he still lives in the other world and is awaiting her, and from that seat of state she will look down on Rome and Caesar's threats. Then addressing Antony's hearse, her last words are,
' Farewell thou fading remnant of my Love.
When I am gone, I'll leave these earthly parts
To keep thee company : never to part.
But dwell together, and dissolve together.
Come Aspe, possesse thy mandon ; freely feed
On these two hilb, upon whose snowy tops
The winged Cupid oft has Uken stand.
And shot from thence the proudest hearts on eaxth.
Corruption now, and rottennesse must seise
This once admired fabrick, and dissolve
This flesh to coounon elements agaiiL
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— DELFINO 525
< For life and throne I have no further care ; From every human wish my heart is free.
I have lived and I have reigned/ With the exception of a short Scene, in which an astrologer, Sesastre by name, is puzzled in reading Cleopatra's stars which foretell a marriage and a death within an hour, the rest of the Act is taken up by Agrippa with the description of a storm at sea, and by Augustus with a full account of Antony* s death and of the seizure, as prisoner, of Cleopatra, wherein throughout Delfino follows Plutarch. The Chorus which closes each Act here denounces navigation, which offers facilities for rich and powerful nations to approach and conquer other countries as the Romans have con- quered Egypt. We next learn from Ergonda that Cleopatra, overborne by the repre- sentations of the astrologer and the arguments of Ergonda herself, has consented to look with favour on Augustus's love if it be offered voluntarily, and has instructed Ergonda to sound the Emperor on the subject. But the maid is timid and decides that it is better to entrust the delicate matter to an erudite priest, Acoreo. In the next Scene Augustus describes to Agrippa how his pity for Cleopatra has developed into love ; to console her in her bitter lot he visited her more than once and became dazzled by her beauty; the sovereignty which had fallen from her hand she still bore on her brow; when she spoke every word was a fetter and every glance of her eye a snare. Thus he became the prisoner of his prisoner. Agrippa sympathises with his royal master and advises him secretly to marry the queen, who would then be willing to go to Rome, imder the temporary guise of a prisoner ; she would be not the conquered, but, in reality, the conqueror. This, however, is too great a gift to be proffered. Cleopatra must be induced to ask for it This delicate service Agrippa undertakes, but in the course of prolonged self-communings he decides that he had better entrust the extremely delicate affair to the more skilful hands of the learned priest, Acoreo. In the meantime Ergonda had sought out this same Acoreo and begged him to elicit with all possible caution the nature of the senti- ments of Caesar toward Cleopatra. This Acoreo consents to do to the extent of his ability. An interview between Agrippa and Acoreo follows wherein after a vast deal of circumlocution, the project of a marriage between Augustus and Cleopatra is broached and Acoreo is made a plenipotentiary in the premises. The Chorus sings its little song over the power of Fortune and the Second Act closes. In the next Act we listen to the ecstatic rhapsodies of Augustus over the loveliness of Cleopatra; we hear of a fearful dream of his, wherein he sees Death break Cupid's bow, while exclaiming ' Cleopatra is mine.' Acoreo tries, in vain, to persuade the queen that Caesar's love for her is true ; she refuses to believe it and sends word that she is determined to die that very day. In his profound despair at hearing this, Augustus empowers Agrippa to offer immediate marriage to the queen, but that it must be kept secret until their arrival in Rome. In the next Act Qeopatra's scruples yield to the persuasion of Acoreo, and when Agrippa enters and delivers the message from Augustas he finds her acquiescent. As her last words to him, she declares,
< When in Augustus I behold such power United with such goodness, I am forced To question if there be not hither come Some god to dwell with us awhile on earth. Already with his host he's conquered Egypt, But by this noble offer he has made
He has conquered even Qeopatra.
5^6 APPENDIX
I ca» Heny him nochiiM^ more. For His ftlt^htesr wish sh«U be my inghtjt law;.' — p^. X14. NVIien alone, Cleopstn indtU^es m driicTCT da^MiramB of her power in Rflme; antt of her ^xnitaiMm at the sight ot proud Raama iiia>nin% kisnig^ the grauKi before ber. 1 ler thoo^hts, bowerer, revert to Aotony, and. she *■*■>■"■■
' B^Heve me. ah l)elteTe, ihoa Shade sdnrrrt 1 Could tears recaii thee to the Titai air Into t^vTn foimts my eyes at once ^himki tBzn.' Then she refleets that if tears and gnet cooid rccaii the dead to lifie» deatk iroaid onr be <leflth ; she miBt submit to natnre, and time mnst brin^ her mnin4ation» bat
' O Shade revered and loved* here now i swear Thine imai^e never shall depart this heaiti VVhaie'er mv lot, or 'neath whatever dime Thy xDcmory shall be noblest and xdoa deari ' AngMStus also has his hoor of exnltaxjon and esaltatkm^ and needs over % hmxhed Iinei9 wherein to express his enrapcnred emotions, .\giippa. entets^ and» ■ '^**g"'*'"g the emhairassRient that wfmid anse should it become known in Rome that Angmtia wak% ahcQt to marry Roane'5 bitter foe before Angnstm himw4f conki reach that dtf an<1 conrmi the situation, advises his royai master to HmfwHh a letter to the wsmn>|r the Senators to disheiieve any soch report, and that in. a £ew days he brfn^ Cleopatra as a captive in chains to Rome, etc .\BgmBS approves of the piaa. The lefter is written, inxt in quelling a disturbance at the harfaoiir, Agiippa loses iL It was foand and bmutrbt to Cleopatra, who opened it and there read^ as she naa- nilly betteved, an incontrovertible proof of Angnstna's treachery. Her grief, bontic; and mfaei > are extreme, hot her dnty is now dear before brr, the nmit at once rejoin Antony and prepare for the fatal voyage in Charon's boat. 9ie writes anote: ' Fmm Clenpatni already enrolled in the Book of the Dead« to theinhnnHm Angpstn^ ' If thy wrath at my death be over, he silent conceniing the base secret [that she had ' been fsithlev for a while to Antony's memory] ^iriiidi I carry to the tomb and to 'ih^ Tartarean <<frand/ etc. This note she entmals to Ergonda, who delivers it to Ao|fn<tns with bitter reproaches^ Augostos is plonged into the deepest despnr^ and to his lamentations Ergonda responds, • Thns,' she says, • a coccodxfll \nt\ weejjs ' when he has killed a man. ' .She tdls how CIeopati&, widi Augostns's letter to the .<^natr in her hamf. had gone into her garden, and, seeking some means wfaerebv » wd Hfe qnkVly, her eye* lit on a \-ase of ^wers wherein she csn^ sight «»f two .i^plfs, which, in «pite of Rfgonda's straggles wrth her, she had socceeded in applr- ing to her breast ; the deadly poison conqoered the fortress of h» heart« and she f^^l to the groimd iike a lovely porple flower cnt down by die pkn^hshare. Ai^nsM hf^t (fp hfn voice in rvftter, heartrending lamentatians. The Choms MH»>*T«i«^ hoe* ^ver. that f ler^pntr t is not yet dead, thar Acoreo had fomid her; explaxned gwaft^ig, and thfit nnw <he wf«heK to jiee Aognstas before the hnt sigh ocapes &om her ifaa^ hf<*?i«t Ang«f«tii« ha«fen< to her jide. fSie tells him diat her feet ahesly sand oa fw'ar^l the fatal .«Vfff Awful %% \% the approach of death, mote ewfel sdn is de (Nt<ttch« r«f hof vreat nnfarthfalness to Aocooy's memory. ' It s not right,* she wf^
to ^tlfttttttjl,
' That it Khould grieve yon thos, t)eciitt<e the Kales have taken fron my heart The noNe cift which yon 90 lately made. (^ b not worthy of your priceless love.
DRAMATIC VERSIONS-^CASPER 527
Who, tempted by desire or empty pride,
Could prove a traitress to that noble Shade 1
Bestow DO grief, I pray, where none is due.
A faithless heart deserves not Caesar's tears.
Ah woe ! ah woe ! I feel the fatal shears
Which slit the thin-spun thread of waning life.
Adorid Shade, if thou still hover near.
Do not disdain to list the earnest prayer
Of penitence sincere, and tend on me.
While forth I fare toward that nighted shore ;
And on that horrid path, shield thou thy Cleopatra. . . .
My life, Augustus, lingers only now
Upon the cool edge of my dying lips,
A sigh, and it is gone for ever.
Lo, Destiny, thou hast conquered !
Farewell, my country, — friends, farewell ! [DusJ*
Germany was the last among European nations to awaken to the charm of dra- matic tragedy. There are rival claimants to the honour of being the first to set forth this charm, but it is, I believe, now generally conceded that this honour belongs to Daniel Casper von Lohenstein, who, in 1660, produced Cleopatra^ * the first ' technically correct German tragedy/ * Few dramatists have experienced more deeply than Casper the alternations of popularity and neglect ; extolled in his own day, and for long years afterward, as the greatest of dramatic poets, surpassing Greeks, Romans, and French (I believe the comparison never extended to Shake- qxare), his (ame dwindled, until in recent times * Lohensteinian bombast ' became a term of reproach. The estimation in which he is held at the present day seems to be more moderate and more just, — whatever excellences he shows are his own, and hit defects, which are many, are the limitations of a pioneer in a new field. His tragedy of Cleopatra extends to four thousand two hundred and thirty-five lines (the lines are numbered, — I should never have had the patience to count them) of rhymed Alexandrines. Gen^e suggests (p. 49) that Casper did not consider the Drama in connection with the stage, but as a department of literature. This sug- gestion IS, I think, to be charitably accepted.
The drama begins after the battle of Actiom. Antony has repulsed an attack of Roman cavalry, but is deserted by his soldiers, contemplates suicide, thinks better of it, calls a council of war, in course of which he explains that the defeat at Actium was due to Fate, who attacked him • tooth and nail,' and discharged from heaven on him lightning, hail, rain, thunderbolts, turning sails inside out. entangling the ropes, unshipping masU and rudders. Wherefore, no one could blame Cleopatra for lead- ing the way to safety out of this sulphurous hell (line 105)— an apology for Cleo- patra's flight which is, I think, unusual. The result of the council is that no agree- ment is to be made with Cesar, and that Antony must not expose himself in battle (line 434). In the next .Scene Qeopatra tearfully narrates to Antony the fearful omens which had attended her devotions in the temple, Apis had with his breath extinguished the incense, which betokened that Egypt should be reduced to ashes ;
^Danul Casper ?'cm Lohenstein s TrauerspUle^ etc., von Dr AUG. KercKHOFFS, Psaderbom, 1877, p. 7.
528
APPENDIX
the nine and twenty signs wherein this sacred animal resembles the moon, all dis- appeared, where his colour was usually white it turned black, and where black it was like snow, etc. Antony comforts her by interpreting all these signs as favourable. Proculeius, the ambassador of Csesar, is announced, and Antony gives him aadience. Proculeius declares that his mission is in the interest of peace ; consequently he and Antony begin mutual recriminations which continue, in stichomythia, in almost unbroken sequence for one hundred and four lines ; but at last Proculeius unfolds the agreement, namely, that Antony shall leave Egypt, break away from Qeopatza, live with Octavia, and set free Artabazes. Antony promises that he will set free Axta- bazes and will give an answer to the other demands before the day is over. In the Second Act Thyreus tells Qeopatra that Csesar is veiy much in love with her, that * the flames of love have melted into one his soul and heis.* But Qeopatra is cautious and suspects that Thyreus is dissembling, because, as she says, the cause of Rome's enmity to Antony is that it imagines that he drew gall and poison from her breast ; it had washed the blood from the hands of the murderers of the great Julias, on the pretext that he had been defiled by her bed, as though it had been a nest of vipers, and, furthermore, Augustus was no boy that he should love her now, when all her beauty was gone. When Thyreus replies that Augustus is sincere in his love, Cleopatra asks why then, when Antony offered to kill himself, if thoeby the possession of Egypt could be secured to her, he did not accept Antony's offer? Kerckhoffs is aware that Casper found this offer of Antony in Dion Casaus and yet he says that nothing more dramatic can be imagined than this unconsdous admission by Qeo- patra of Antonyms magnanimity of soul. Th3rreus per^sts and begs the Queen to per- mit Augustus to ' taste the spice of love on her sugar lips, where kisses will draw cot * each other's soul.' He confirms his commission by producing Caesar's bond and seal Qeopatra accepts all ecstatically, sends a ring to Csesar as a |dedge that she sm^ renders herself wholly to him, and that
< Before Osiris grants another dawn and light, Antonius to the world shall bid a long good nigfat.' In order to fulfill this promise, Qeopatra, in the next Scene, induces her son, Caesarion, and her privy counselor, Ardiibius, to join her in rengeance on Antonj, who, she falsely tells them, has approved of a plan, broached in the foregoing con- ference with Proculeius, for destroying her by poison smeared over her body. Archibius decides that Antony must die, and Caeauion silently acquiesces. They are interrupted by the announcement that Antony seeks an interview with Qeopttn, who, after the departure of Archibius and Caesarion, ofder the three diildren to be brought in. Antony enters much dejected, but declares that a kiss will piove § refreshing western wind to his languishing heart. Qeopatra immediately begins, however, with bitter reproaches for not having been admitted to the conference with Proculeius, which she chooses to interpret as a proof that Antony intends to desot her. She bids the children embrace the knees of their father and beg for mercy for her and for diemselves. They obey, and with such effect that Antony's heart if deeply moved, and he swears by Osiris and by Jujnter that, until Clotho shall sever his thread of life, he will love and honour Qeopatra, and will instantly send bad Pioculeius, unanswered, to Caesar, and thereby break off all n^odatiotts. Hereby Qeopatra* s treachery gains much, but to make the breach b^ween Antony and Csesar complete, she begs Antony to send to Csesar the boid of Anabases. To dni Antony consents, and gives orders for the immediate execntion of the man whoie life was one of Cscsar*s ^)ecial stipulations. Thb Scene is, I think, the best in ^
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— CASPER
529
play. The phraseology is less stilted and the style less turgid, and there are one or two touches of nature, as where one of the children says 'just let him have a helmet ' and armour and he'll show them how to Bght ' ; and another says that ' he would
* like to go at Caesar with steel and dagger.' When Cleopatra is left alone she exults in the success of her plans thus far, but must proceed with caution ; she has a secret treaty with Caesar, whereof the condition is Antony's death ; she rehearses the different modes of killing him and finally she adopts the plan (herein Casper follows Dion Cassius), of sending word of her death to Antony, so that he may commit sui- cide, as she is sure he will. In the Third Act Cleopatra takes Charmium into her confidence and instructs her that as soon as she sees her mistress's body lying asleep as though dead, she must instantly run to Antony and make him believe that the ai^Murent death is real. In the next Scene Qeopatra summons to her side all her attendants and makes due preparations for her fictitious death. Before beginning she bids them all, her 'dearest sisters' as she calls them, learn from her example that high station is a toil and a burden ; ' no thistle pricks as severely as silk and
* purple ; a sceptre breaks easier than glass ; hardly had I seen the light of day ' before misery hung about my neck ; I had more wormwood than mother's milk. ' Before my tongue could lisp I suffered by my parent's death, and my brother's hate.' She b^s her attendants not to dissuade her, but rather to help her onward in that garden path where she can engraft her life on posterity. * Bind diamonds in my ' ringlets, and crown my heavenly head with roses and narcissus ; let pearls kiss my ' bare neck ; place emeralds on my arms and purple on my shoulders, so that I can- ' not fail to please the bridegroom.' * Whom will Cleopatra wed ? ' asks Belisama.
* Death,' is the reply, * whom I welcome more joyfully than when I entrusted myself *to Caesar or to Antony.' Her directions, strictly, I suppose, in accordance with Egyptian rites, are as minute as they are tedious, but they are at last complete and Cleopatra takes the cup, exclaiming as she does so, * O nectar of our life I Cordial of
* our soul ! O sugar-sweet poison I Happy he, who through thee evades all misery !
* Who, under this image of death, masks his highest weal ! Charmium. She grows
* pale ! Iras. Serene Highness ! Charm. She is speechless ! Sida. She has the death
* rattle ! Charm. She is dying ! Babia. Tear off her clothes ! Belisama, Alas her
* pulse is stopped ! ' etc. They decide to send word, by Eteocles, at once to Antony, who in the meantime is passing through an uncomfortable ordeal. After he had fallen asleep the ghosts of Antigonus, ArUbazes, and Jamblichus, three kings whom he had caused to be executed, appear and curse him. He awakes in afiright and in a frame of mind sufficiently terror-stricken to receive the added horror of Geopatn's death, which Eteocles announces. Antony bewails his unhappy lot, and, after describing in glowing language Ceopatra's charms, commands Eros to kill him. Here Casper follows Plutarch's account of Eros's noble self-sacrifice and Antony's unsuccessful attempt to kill himself. Diomedes enters and tells Antony that Qeopatra' s life has been saved by the administration of antidotes. Antony begs to be taken to her. On his arrival Cleopatra breaks forth in lamentations over him, over her lot, and in railings against Fate. Antony expresses his joy in having her lap as his demth-bed, bids her bury him like a Ptolemy, cease her lamenUtions, which will dis- turb his rest in the grave, and force him to wander as a doleful ghost at midnight, about the palace, to see how she and the children are faring. He dies finally and Qeopatra falls fainting on his body. The Fourth Act is mainly taken up with dis- cussions by Caesar and hi<5 friends over the government of Alexandria and the dis- posal of Qeopatra. Toward the close Caesar and the Queen have an interview,
34
5^ APPENDIX
Cjlspkk follows Dion Cassias as Ikr ss concerns the di^klay by Qeopatra <jt T«riH* Cesar's images and his letters to her, bat, unlike Dion CassinSy Aogastns «M»s tifee qaeen in hypocrisy and affects to be desperately enamoured of her, calls ^K *- finrest queen ' and promises to gire her not only her kingdom, her sceptre, her Mcdom, bat eren more. In return, Qeopatra ofiers her heart to him and will swear V be trae and faithful, and will resign the key to her treasore ; she declares that her is without guile and her body without a blemish. Whereat Augustus asks what woakl not then become wax, what ice not beoooie sulphur, and adds that it is the powcrinl magnet of Cleopatra's beauty that draws him. This emboldens Qeopatra ; sDd she advises him to * enjoy the pleasure of his youthful prime ; time flies like an *• amw ; desire is but a shadow. A heart that will not yield to loTe is a star shrouded « in doads, a jewel under water ; of what use is the ooial that is ungathered in the
* sea ? On the other hand, what delight it must be, to one who is a great lord and *has harvested both victory and the fruits of love, to rest his half- exhausted frame on
* some tender breast, and to be quickened by the sweet dew of the kisses of his beloved
* one.' Augustus responds : * Thou Venus of our time, thoa sun of the world, whom
* my enamoured soul accepts as an idol, Augustus surreiKlers to thee, he exchanges 'his laurel wreath for thy myrtle chaplet. As far as earth's remotest bound thoa
* shalt be adored. But,' he continues, ' the errors of others should teach us caution.
< Julius Caesar gained hatred, and Antony enemies and war, because they showed in
* Rome the wounds received from Qeopatra's love before they showed the Romans
* Qeopatra herself, whose beauty would have converted hate into idolatry.' Hence it follows with the certainty of a Q. £, D. that Cleopatra must go to Rome, and then the way will be smooth for her to marry the Emperor of the World. But Qeopatra sees the snare, and evades a downright refusal to go to Rome by begging from Augustus the privilege, before she leaves for that city, of burying Antony according to Egyptian rites. Caesar accedes, and the Act closes. The Fifth Act opens with Qeopatra's busy preparations for embalming Antony. ' Come, dearest sisters,' she sa3rs to her attendants, < come, bring to him a true offering of fidelity and the last ' pledge of love. Defile your bodies, uncover and beat your breasts. For seven dajs
* do ix)t wash yourselves. Wreathe the sarcophagus with ivy. Put on sackcloth ' instead of silk. Drink no wine, only water, so that you can weep abundantly. Wet
* your bread and scanty food with tears. Take this crooked iron, Iras, and drag out ' Antony's brains through his nose, and pour in balsam.' Iras observes that Eteodes has already opened the body, and gives in detail the disposition of the organs; it is hardly worth while to follow the steps of the process, which are probaUy as accurate as they are certainly repulsive ; they are not to be found in the edition of i66i, but are a cheerful addition to that of 1680. Cleopatra's attendants try to comfort her by dwelling on Caesar's love, but she hands to them a paper that she had found among Antony's effects, in Caesar's handwriting, wherein Antony is instigated to murder her ; and also shows a letter from Dolabella setting forth Caesar's intention of send- ing her at once a prisoner to Rome. There is now for her no alternative ; she must take her fate into her own hands. Antyllus, the oldest son of Antony and Fnlria, enters and denounces Cleopatra as an ' accursed sorceress ! a bloodthirsty Medea ' whom he would incontinently kill, were it not that she had determined to kill her- self. Qeopatra offers him a sword and her breast, and bids him * Strike ! Antyllus.
* Absurd folly ! Cleopatra. Strike ! Antyllus. I would, but I cannot Clcop. I ' will accept the stroke and death as a kindness. Antyll. Blood so black shall never
< stain my hands. Cleop, Then let me uncursed die, Antyllus. AntylL Deserved
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— SEDLEY
531
* or nndesenred, IMl cast no stone npon thy graye. Cleop, Then joyfully I die.' Cleopatra writes a letter to Caesar begging him to let her lie by Antony's side. Iras and Charmium avow their determination to share their mistress's fate, but she endeav- ours to dissuade them, — ^wherefore should Csesar treat them hazBhly ? who else would see that she was befittingly buried ? < Believe me,' she says, ' if you die for fear, ' you do not show your love for me as much as you would if you waited in order to ' perform the last sad rites for me.' Cleopatra removes the leaves in the basket of figsand shows the aspics. < Charmium, Ye gods ! and is that horrid thing to strike
* poison into your lily-white arm ? Chop, Yes, to lift the gates of the body to our ' lofty soul.' Diomedes, to hearten them all, applies an aspic to his own arm and falls dead.
' Cleop, The faithful knave wins fame and teaches us how easy 'tis to die.
Behamina, The asp that killed the Jcnave so swiftly will not sting Qeopatra ; Fate, perchance, witholds its fang.
Chop, Suggest not such a thing for me. It will not touch my arm ! 'Tie thirsty for my breast Here ! because, for all my sins, I merit death, now sting ! suck poison there where many a rosy mouth sucked milk and honey. It stings ! I'm wounded ! Already am I faint and drowsy. Come, dearest, and take ^m me the last fond kiss. [Dies,
Salambo, She shivers ! she sleeps ! she's dead ! '
Iras also applies the asp and dies, as does also Charmium after she has filled with flowers the hands of her dead mistress.
The tragedy continues for nearly five hundred lines more. To the five corpses on the stage : Antony, Cleopatra, Iras, Charmium, Diomedes, — Antyllus is added. As in Dion Cassius, the Fsylli are summoned in vain.
Casper's Noies^ wherein he gives his authority for his Egyptian references, are almost as voluminous as his text.
In 1677 a rhymed dramatic version of the story appeared with the following title :
* Antony | and | Qeopatra : | A | Tragedy. | As it is acted at the DincES | Theatre. < I Written by the Honourable | Sir Charles Sedlky, Baronet. | Licensed Apr. 24.
* 1677. Roger V Estrange, \ London, | Printed for Richard Tonson at his Shop
* under | GrayeS'Innt-gate next Grayes-Inne-iane, \ MDCLXXVII.' (I have another copy dated 1696, but it is merely a reprint.) Among the * Persons represented' Antony was Mr Betterton ; Oesar^ Mr Smith ; Cleopettra, Mrs Mary Lee ; Octavia^ Mrs Betterton ; Iras^ Mrs Gibbs; Charmion^ Mrs Hughes. In the Reprint of 1696 the same parts are assumed by the same actors. Of this play Sir Walter Scott said that he had read it once and would ' assuredly not read it a second time,' — a resolve which, I think, all will share, and include in it even the following brief synopsis :
When the first Scene opens, the battle of Actium has taken place and Maecenas urges Octavius to prosecute the war vigorously against Antony; Octavius acquiesces for policy's sake and for Octavia's. In the next Scene two Egyptian lords determine to plot against Antony in order to free Cleopatra and their country. Antony enters and decidedly shows the white feather. He tells Canidius to g^ out and fight the Romans, while he remains within the walls and takes care of Cleopatra ; but when Cleopatra enters, her warlike spirit inspires him and the Act closes with Cleopatra's declaration that her ' heart can danger though not absence bear, To Love, 'tis Wax, *but Adamant to Fear.' Antony chivalrously responds, *Mine has such Courage
* from your Firmness took. That I can almost bear a parting look.' In Act II. it
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— SEDLEY
533
Fhotinas enters, crying,
' Horror on horror I Sir, th' unhappy Queen Betray'd by a report that you were slain !
Ani, I understand you, she herself has kill'd And better knew to die, than how to yield.
Phoi, Alas I she has, I puird the reeking steel From her warm wound, and with it rusht her life — Her latest breath was busie with your name. And the sweet pledges of your mutual flame : Your children she embrac't, and then she died.
Ani. How well had I been with great Julius slain, Or by some flying Parthian* s darted cane/ Antony then resolves to kill himself, so as to < let Romans now each other love, ' Their tedious quarrel I will soon remove/ He requests Lucilius to kill him, but Lncilins passes the weapon through his own body. Antony remarks, ' The noblest way : thou show'st me what to do. Thou giv'st th' example, and Tie give the blow.' He thereupon ineflfectually stabs himself, and observes to Photinus,
* Thou can* St not now my fatal journey stay.
Phot. Nor would I, Sir, jrou'r fairly on your way.
Ani, Death soon will place me out of fortunes reach ; Why stays my soul to sally at this breach ?
Phoi. It is not big enough.
Ani, Do'st mock me now ? Can my few minutes a new^ torture know —
Phot. They may, and to provoke thy parting soul, Know that the Queen yet lives, thou loving fool. And I the story of her death contriv'd, To make thee kill thyself, which has arrived Just as I wish't ; by thy own hand thou dy*8t. And art at once the victim and the priest
Ant, Furies and Hell
Phot, Curse on ; but Caesar shall With Egypt's sceptre thank me for thy fall.' . . . (This is really the best Scene, I think, in the play.) Charmion and Iras enter and reveal to Antony that Qeopatra is alive in her Monument, where
* All she holds dear she has throng'd there, but yon. And now intreats that you will enter too.'
Antony is not so far dead but that he manages to walk off to the Moooment. Caesar and his friends enter, as does also Photinus with Anton3r's sword, but he is received with suspicion. A servant enters and announces that Octavia is ' past all ' human grief and care.'
' Ots. She is not dead. Strv, Yes, in her way to Rome, Of grief and discontent, as we presume, [Italics mine. — Ed.]
Cas, Ye joyes of victory, a while forbear, I must on my Octavia drop a tear.' . . . The Scene changes to the Monument and Enter Antonius, Qeopatra, Charmion, and Iras.
534
APPENDIX
< Am. 'Twu I Ihat pull'd on yon the tul Aod all your ills pul, prcscDI and to come. It is Dot fit nor possible I liie. And my dear Queeo, it giowcs unltiad lo g Anlony wliiaes Cleopatn to submit to Caesir, who Ihat her beauty and bis love were all ber crime.
' A»l. But you may li»e a Queen ; »y y( Through tear ; and were compell'd to gite Say, that at last you did my death procure \ Say anjnhiDg that may your life and ctowd Aolooy dies exclaiiDing,
' O Rome ! thy freedom does with me expire And ihou art lost, obtainiog thy desire.
CU^, He's goDc \ he's gone I and I fa The great Anlouius now is but a ghost : A iTaDd'ring shadow on the Stygian Coast.' Cleopatra masters her overwhelming grief long euou lines the fleeliog frailly of beauty, and its imrealiiy ; ai ' In yonder golden box three asps there lie. Take one and to my naked breast apply
Its poisonous mouth '
Chaimion obeys ; the asp ' stii^ her ' ; she says kneeling by Antony's corpse, exclaims,
' Good asp bile deep and deadly in my breai And giTe me sudden and eternal rest. Charm. Pool, from thy hasty Fate thou Iras. Let it bite you, I'le slay dll you li
Alas I my life but newly is begun
Charm. No ; tiiou would'st lire lo sbai
But rie take care thai (bou sbalt nobly die.
Irat. Good CharmioD !
Charm. V le hear no more : faint heaila
Will never want some foolish thiikg to say.
At our Queen's feet let's decently be found,
And loyal grief be thought our only wotmd
Oeiat and his train enter, after baTing battered d
express horrtir at the sight of the corpses. Photinui
dyii% breath reproaches him for not havini; made h
should further reveal his treachery, he stabs her, and
who says he is Iras's brother, Czsar wonders what A
a brother wbo owed to him all his honoois, and assc
godlike pleasure to have shared the empire again with
of everything, Agrippa announces that ClFOjalra bad I
'to vile ashes.' and had turned 'her fair person to *
after Cxsar has uttered Ihe lolemn warning to us all, t1
' Great minds the Gods alone can overcome-
Lel no man with his present Fortune swell.
The fale of growing empire who can tetl ?
We stand but on the greatness whence Ihei
DRAMATIC VERSIONS^DE LA CHAPELLE 535
Genkst (i, 208) remarks that S^^ile7 (*for so he then wrote his name') seems to have written the * part of Photinus, an intriguing statesman and great villain, pur-
* posely for Sandford.'
In 1682 there was published in Paris, CtEOPATREpar Mr De la Chapelle. The character of Cleopatra is here drawn with bolder strokes than in either Jodelle (if we omit the Scene with Seleucus) or Garnier. On one occasion, when Antony con- fesses that he is about to desert her, there is an outburst of hot indignation in which she calls him * barbare,' and threatens him with an undivulged cruel retaliation, before which the Roman quails. Unfortunately, I cannot say that this character is fully sustained. Possibly, it was the author's intention, but certain it is that before the drama closes Cleopatra is subdued to a dove-like meekness in her utter subjection to love for Antony. Octavia takes a prominent part in the drama ; her devotion to Antony is so unbounded that it includes even Cleopatra, and she vainly struggles to save them both.
The Scene opens after the battle of Actium ; throughout the First Act Cleopatra does not, and will not appear. She is so overwhelmed with grief at the ruin and disgrace she has brought on Antony that she refuses to see him. This seclusion is Octavia's opportunity, and while Antony is chafing under the absence of his queen, his wife presents herself to him and adjures him for his own sake and for their chil- dren's to return to Rome and placate the Senate. Her success is such that Antony demands time to think it over. The Second Act shows us Cleopatra brooding over the fear that Antony is about to desert her, and over his changed demeanour, which is very different from his tender forgiveness after her flight at Actium, where * II vit que je fuyois, son ame en ffit atteinte, Et 1' amour fit en luy ce qu'en moy fit la crainte,' and when he swore endless vows of eternal fidelity. And here occurs a touch of nature, trifling to be sure, but refreshing amid so much moralising : Cleopatra had sent Iras to the harbour to learn what she could of Antony's movements, and had not yet returned ; hereupon, Cleopatra declares that Iras knows how impatient she is for news and yet takes not the smallest pains to hurry ; it is only too clear that nobody cares for her or her misfortunes, and that she must weep all alone ; everybody had abandoned her. At that very instant Iras enters. She reports that Antony is about to leave Alexandria and Cleopatra for ever, and that on this condition peace had been made with Rome. She also reports that Octavia is in the palace and waiting to see Cleopatra. Octavia enters and implores Cleopatra, by her very love for Antony, to force him to return to Rome, to his honour, and to his power, and that by so doing she will convert the hatred of the Romans into admiration, and secure her own throne. Cleopatra replies that her advice to Antony would be to die rather than return to Rome, only to be shorn of his power like poor Lepidus. Octavia asks how Qeo- patra, in case there should be more fighting, would bear the news of Anton3r's death. ' Like a Queen,' Cleopatra replies, * A thousand famous examples, of which your ' Roman history, Madame, b full, will give me the aid of a noble despair in ending
* my sad days. You will never see me, like a dastard, disgrace the hundred kings ' from whom I am descended. Maugre Rome and maugre the angry Fates I shall
* know how to rejoin the manes of a husband.' Octavia ends the interview by say-
* ing that she will depart, < but, Madame, in spite of you, in spite of him, I will today •save you both.'
Antony enters and pleads with Qeopatra that it is necessary that he should sub-
•-ja APPESDIX
iMt 'JU Octsvins «ni decmt tor Rome in order to satc lier from forUier indignities and 6Mm i«»n^ TsckSeil in Caesar's trimnphal pcocession. Qeopatra sees through this $|MC«iu^ 7Qa:iKniia(y mod rises to tragic grandeor as she denounces his perfidy, and T^ate» ^fe}^ 3cr his sake she had ruined her kingdom, and had been dishonoured thivM^eiuid: ^e worid by his fatal love, but she ao longer retains him, and bids him M :u 0«:&ivis&, become his slave ; * Go, brighten his court ! I too will be present ! * getaag* yoa vill find me more cruel than pleasant ! '
I\ese parting words alarm Antony with their veiled threat, and he resolves that b« wiH try to thwart her insidious plans. In a Scau with Agrippa, Caesar's ambassa- dur» Octavia renews her vow that she will remain near Antony in war or in peace ; sad reasserts her determination to share Cleopatra's late and to save both her and Ancooy. Octavia retires; Qeopatra enten and makes full submission to Csesar aai to Rome. Antony enters unexpectedly and tells Agrippa that his treaty of peace with Caesar is broken off, that there must now be war, and that he casts in his lot with Qeopatra. Agrippa, astounded, retires; Qeopatra' s anger, mingled with jeal- ousy, has no whit cooled ; she treats Antony at first with the utmost disdain. He accuses her of ingratitude. She asks if she b to remain for ever trembling, and for ever accused, exposed to the violence and jealous transpotts of an enraged barbarian ; she sees his design to drive her away and she will at once gratify him. He implores her to remain and swears that his only thought has been to protect her and her chil- dren in case of his death. This touches Qeopatra and she yields. Without him, she confesses, she would not care to live, and at this very moment her dearest wish is to see him happy and to die for him. Antony then renews his vows of love, and describes the great deeds he is about to perform in the war. At this moment word is brought to him that the Romans are everywhere victorious and that his presence is needed in the camp. Antony takes a touching farewell of Qeopatra, and adjures her to preserve the memory of his faithful love. But
< Before my brave army I must be calm And hide all my trouble. — So adieu, Madame. [ExiL
Cleopatra, Dieux 1 if today, Death should humble his pride ! I'll follow him swiftly, and die by his side ! '
In the next Scene Qeopatra is alone, and horror-stmck at the thought that even at that veiy moment Antony's head may have been brought to Csesar.
' My glorious spouse [Epimx] ! ' she cries, * 'twas my fatal love, — That sent thee too soon to mansions above. 'Twas I who deprived thee of crown and of light ! I will follow thee, dearest, in fortune's despite ! '
While the battle is going on and Qeopatra is in the extremity of fear and alarm, Octavia appears and asserts that she is come to share Cleopatra's fate. Qeopatra is not cordial, and remarks that the combat is not yet decided. But at that instant Charmion hurries in and announces that all is lost, Caesar's victorious troops are already in the city. Thereupon Qeopatra hastens to her Monument. Antony returns defeated, disgraced, and in despair, seeking Qeopatra, whom alone he wishes to see.
Octavia is warned that her husband is bent on suicide, and is seeking Qeopatra to bid her farewell. Octavia's excellent character rises to the occasion. After all the misfortunes which the queen has caused her, she says that were she herself not a Roman she could hate her, but.
DRAMA TIC VERSIONS— DE LA CHAPELLE
537
' These jealous stirrings and these moital quarrels,
Which lacerate the heart of vulgar lovers,
Awake in mine no thought to stain my glory.
What if, for her, my love has been disdained,
Unhappy is she, and, like me, a woman.
I'll seek my brother, and assure my spouse
That Roman hearts cannot withstand my tears.' — p. 48. Word is brought to Antony that Cleopatra had taken refuge in her Monument, which had been attacked by Roman soldiers to whom Charmion had thrown out some treasures and with tears had announced Cleopatra's death, whereat even the rough soldiers were touched and retired. Antony's attempted suicide follows, as in Plu- tarch ; he learns from Iras that the queen still lives. The way in which Antony was carried to the Monument, and, by the scarves and veils which Charmion had twisted into ropes, was pulled up by Cleopatra and her women, is described to Octavia. In the last Scene Cleopatra tells Caesar's ambassador that she now surrenders herself; she has left the Monument where the inhuman Gods had just snatched from her the greatest of all the Romans ; she had closed the lids over his eyes, all stained with blood and dust. * It is I,' she cries, < who killed him. Too great a solicitude for my
* life has cost me my life. The deplorable state in which his loss has left me, — ^these ' veils stained with blood, his last sighs breathed out in my arms, and my own sorrows, ' all demand my death. If I defer it for a few minutes, 'tis to ask of Caesar only one ' favour, and Caesar must remember that to me is really due his glory, which he would
* never have attained had not Antony been blinded by his fatal love for me. This ' fatal love the gods sent to his breast. The Senate exiled him, — and I did all the rest.'
The favour which she asks is that such funeral honours as are beyond her power may be given to Antony. She does not desire any proud mortuary pomp, which may attempt to repair the ignominy of his ending ;
' 'Tis ample that his Shade obtains repose. And that a little mound of heaped-up earth. May prove an all-sufiicing monument. In honour of his sacred memory.' Agrippa begs her to relinquish all thoughts of dying, assures her that Caesar recog- nises her virtues, and laments her misfortune ; but she replies, * From cares like these, has Fate deliver'd me, Some minutes now are all I have to live. Agrippa, What say you, Madame ? Cleopatra, 'Tis already done, Agrippa,
The poison I have taken ends its work. If any pity for me stirs you now, Permit no severance twixt my spouse and me. But in one tomb, pray, let us both be laid. 'Tis there — 'tis there, the summit of my wishes ! Dear spouse ! receive me in the gloomy realm. Where love, I pray, may reunite our Shades. There's nought that now appears so sad to me As moments when I was not by your side.* Sustain me, Charmion, my strength is going.
* This awakens an uncomfortable suspicion that the Egyptian queen had been lately reading her Jodelle, or her Gamier.
538 APPENDIX
Agrippa. I griere ; admire ; her Tiitiie astnawds Madame
Cltopatra, The poisoo pats forth doable strength.
A deaihlikc chill is creeping throagh mj fintaae. Idie!
Iras. O cruel fortnoe ! She is dead !
Agrippa^ O heavens ! IH bear at once the nevs Cd Here ends the Tragedy.
* Antoins €t CLiOPATHE, TraghHe. ReprdmUe pomr U pramUrt fan xar k TTUmtre de U C^mUdU FroHfoise^ U 6. Xacewt^re 1741. Pjois^ BCDCCXUTT.* So runs the title of a play which the Dtduaiory EpistU iiifcwur» as mas viiOua bf *BoiSTKL.' ( From his collected ffWij we leam that his fidlnwae is J. B.Ro«aT Boism. lyWELixs.) This versioa is, it appears to me* of tnteresL The author's concepdoa of both Antooy and QcopatB is whoQy Antooy's tore for Cleopatra soficrs only ooe mrwnrnrary ecGpse, and then he at lecums himselfy and, with a strength unknown anvng other Aitfonif% dafe all possibility of a rdapse by proclaiming to his army diat Cleopatca is his Qeopatra is a tmly pathetic figure. She makes a firm stand against Fate, coonsdling Antony to attack and conqner Rome^ Bat when idie finds thnt Fate is too strong for her, she adjures Antony to desert her, the casse of all his mtsfortnaes; when he refuses, she retires to the Pyramids and there <fies ; how ^^ finds death we are not told. This Texsion comes nearer than any other Id caaoniaxng Clmplin. Octaria does not appear in the play. Her place, as a repiesenfiatrve of Anicmy's home-ties^ is taken by Julius^ a son of Antony and herael£ FtoiB what we are tofal during the first few Scenes, we lenm that after die bottie of AcTium, Antosj rated ^«™*^*' from Qeopatra and, in a deosrve bottle, vancfBiriied nctncioiss mnrdi to Rome was recalled to Egypt by a revolt in his has followed tmn, and here in Alexandria appointed an interriew fi of the peace demanded by the soldiers, and has designated^ as the spot where it ii to take place, the royal tombs of the kings of Egypt, where Clcopatia has kept her- self scdnded erer since her dxsgracefol fight at Actxum. It b intimated that the wily Caesar has selected this spot in the hope that Antony-, who b ignutant of Qeo- patza*s pfcsence there, m^ again meet the Egyptian (^kcb, and again thnIL The plot socoeeds, Anboay again meets Cleopatra, and they vows of eteTttJ Love. When Cleopatra leanWi however, that CarwH* is comirg hither far a ooofierence, she s terrified lest, as she teQs Antmy, her eyes shnolii behold * A second Actium on this hxal spot.
Yoor foe hates you, ami me aH Rome abhors^
While you love me what is ^ere I need fiear?
I hear a noise. I yield to dn^'s calL
Tis donbdcss Cosar ; go« my lord, and meet
And trust that I, most foithful to your love,
Wm chfTTsh thoughts of you to my hfe's
If ever I was worthr oS. vour love
Do voa here show that vou are worthr mi
By flying hence, and making peace with Caesm.* — pL 15. Thos cfcMes the Fxnt Act, In die next the Tiiumviis meet for Anh.my is the magnanimaa^ open-heazted patiait, who wonhl gjhre Qber^ to ^L anl
DRAMA TIC VERSIONS— BO ISTEL
539
to each a chance to live. Csesar is the wily, selfish politician. They agree to divide the world between them, but Csesar requires some assurance that the glory of Rome will not be tarnished, nor his sister live in contempt, throogh Antony's connection with Cleopatra. Accordingly, he demands that the Egyptian queen shall either take a husband of his choosing, or be delivered as a hostage to Rome. Antony blazes into fury at the thought of either alternative. The conference ends with his defiance of Caesar. In the next Scene^ Qeopatra counsels Antony to send her to Rome and then win her back by conquering the city, — a plan which he scouts, but waxes enthusiastic over the wonderful military genius it displays. In the next Acty Julius, Antony's son, unrecognized by his father, is presented to Antony by Eros as the son of Ventidius. Julius describes the bitter grief with which Octavia mourns Antony's desertion; Antony listens at first with coldness, but is finally touched; when Julius informs him that Octavia is close at hand, and, throwing himself at his father's feet, reveals his identity, Antony breaks down and bids him bring his mother and he will be reconciled to her. But as soon as he is alone and calm, he sees to what a frightful pass his promise to Julius has brought him, — nothing less than a reconciliation with Rome and an abandonment of Cleopatra. He resolves that he will seek out Octavius, and by a sudden oath extricate himself from the horror of his situation. Cleopatra enters. To her, he recounts his misery and his remorse, and says that he will fly to where she is not, or whithersoever death will guide his steps. Qeopatra counsels him to obey necessity, and shows that even greater trouble is at hand ; Csesar is inciting Antony's soldiers to revolt by disseminating among them let- ters wherein they are exhorted either to surrender Cleopatra to him or to destroy the beauty which Antony still adores. Qeopatra asserts that, as she is the only cause of discord, it behooves her to fly to some distant land, abandoning her coontry and resigning her diadem, convinced that —
' If thou wert happy, I should soon forget them. In every danger, will sweet thoughts of thee Make good the loss of honour, throne, and home.' — p. 39. Antony seeks out Octavius to give him his final answer; he will not confide Qeo- patra to him ; she shall remain his until death ; he repudiates Octavia, she is of Cscsar's blood. He turns to the assembled Egyptians and Romans and exclaims :
* Cleopatra, it is true, was born a queen. But 'tis in her the only fault I've found. And if you think it does impute disgrace. Remember it was Fate. I can repair it : No more, Egyptians, do you have a queen !
Here, Romans, stands my wife, your sovereign lady ! ' — ^p. 41. He defies Csesar, and Rome, which he will one day force to bend the knee before a woman. Cleopatra meets Julius, not knowing at first that he is Anton3r's son, and begs him, as a friend to Antony, to persuade the latter to return to his duty. Julius mistrusts her and reveals himself. Antony enters. Cleopatra begs him to withdraw the empty title of wife which he had given her before his army,
* Thou hast deceived me, Antony ; my just alarm Demands the motive for this empty title.
But time is short, I'll spare thee all complaint Today, thy duty summons thee to say — Which of the two shall now prevail with thee, The tie of blood^or love, thy son^or I ?
540
APPENDIX
* Bat, be it either son, or be it lored cue. Go vith me to thj araj, and mj wish fiililL Cone ! I mnst there resign into th j kaads This hooocr which excxtes thr Rcodms* ire. TaoQ know* St bow demdlr, ire like this mar Imagine This to be thj so^e resocire. Alt silent ? Wbat ! mnst thv soo bissk far &ee? Or in thj beait can k>re do nnrhmg OKxe Than here refnse me what bt bps impiore. And Vaad me down widi gifts tkn I Ja^S^ o^ thj plighit, wbea hoe tbc« In the same hope, Oc<^Mtia aad ikr
is obdmaie, be has done what be befirved to be
fates of dK taad> *BntiC at ^isoost, dkon wik boC beed mr
• »
The /»«* AiS c
r^ «iac I carid. I
a£bE
M<
rc^s T
of CtJ^^jt
DRAMA TIC VERSIONS— MARMONTEL
S4I
* ordinaires du Roi le 20. Mai, 1 750.' The author was but twenty-seven years old, and his tragedy bears the marks of youth in everything but in its lack of fire. It is cold, spiritless, timid, and insincere, with little discrimination of character. His- tory, except in extremely meagre outlines, is disregarded. Indeed, it is difficult to believe that the dramatist had ever read Plutarch or Dion Cassius, but, as far as Ventidius is concerned, it seems as though he must have read Dryden. Octavia does not appear among the Dramatis Persona; and, apart from Cleopatra, the chief interest is divided between Antony and Caesarion, a malapert boy, who thinks that Rome and all Romans should bow the knee to him because in his veins runs the blood of Julius Caesar. Oeopatra's love seems to be equally shared by Antony and Csesarion. The play opens alter the battle of Actium, and the First Act closes with Cleopatra's attempts to cheer and encourage Antony. In the Second Act Ventidius awakens Antony's sense of honour and persuades him to desert Qeopatra, who is plunged into despair when she learns of this resolution from Antony's own lips. She thereupon determines that she will make her lover jealous, and so win him again, by making love to Octavius. She is aware, she says, that she no longer possesses the beauty of her first youth, but then age replaces youth, by the knowledge of more seductive wiles. Whoso knows how to attack is already half a master. What a triumph to vanquish the pride and the power of Octavius by the glances of her eyes ! Let the world call her perfidious and false I 'In my own eyes upright, content with-
< out flaw, I need but my heart, both for judge and for law.'
Qeopatra meets Octavius and flatters him to the skies. He afterwards acknowl- edges to Proculeius that he had never before so thoroughly appreciated her fasci- nations, but they had not touched his heart. Antony and Octavius meet, and although there are outbursts of indignation from the former, yet Octavius calms them and they become friends. Cleopatra enters and places her crown in the hands of Octavius, useless burden as it is on the brow of a captive. To Antony she sa3rs, ' You have ' given me a master, let me bow down to him. From you or from him, my faXt I must
< crave I am either your spouse, or else I'm his slave. Choose ye.'
Antony at once breaks off with Octavius and follows Cleopatra. In the battle which follows Antony is defeated and Csesarion taken prisoner. Ventidius brings word fix>m Octavius that if Cleopatra wishes to save Csesarion' s life she must herself come and ask for it. She bids Ventidius take a poniard to Csesar wherewith he may stab Csesarion, who will then die undlsgraced. This Ventidius refuses to do and holds out the hope that they may still conquer Octavius with the troops that survive, but these troops will not fight unless Antony leaves Cleopatra. The queen then bids Ventidius announce to the soldiers that the chain which bound her to Antony is broken, and that she consents even to be fastened behind a chariot in Rome. In the last Act, Qeopatra instigates Eros to assassinate Octavius. Antony and Octavius meet, the latter is cruel and haughty, and bids Antony choose his place of exile, but he will retain Cleopatra and Caesarion as hostages ; at that instant Eros aims a blo^ with a poniard at Octavius's heart. Antony catches his arm and saves the life of Octavius. Out of gratitude Octavius shows Antony the letter which Qeopatra had written to him oflering to surrender everything — even Antony himself. The latter is thunderstruck and breaks out into wild despair. ' After such treason,' Caesar asks, * can you love her ? ' Antony replies * I adore her ! Leave me. Your pity
* augments my frenzy. Leave me ! ' * What recourse, have you ? * asks Ventidius. ' Death ! ' answers Antony as he stabs himself. Qeopatra rushes in, falls on Antony's body, sees the fatal letter which she had written as a decoy to Octavius, and under-
5^2 APPENDIX
stands it all. She implores Antony to speak to her ; 'he extends his arms, his eyes
beam love.
Adoring at thy feet, behold thy queen 1
Excess of love and sorrow brings me death !
Hah ! would' St thou speak ? — thou sighest^ — thou diest ! ' Cleopatra faints, but revives and begs from Caesar, as a last favour, that she mtj place a crown of laurel on Antony's brow. Charmion brings a basket of laurd leaves under which an aspic is concealed. Qeopatra seizes the aspic and applies it to her breast < O ye gods ! ' cries Octavius. Cleopatra, with the aspic still oo her bosom, exclaims, * At last I'm free. My heart mounts up above Octavius and all 'misfortunes! My son is alive and free. Adieu. Upon this funeral-pile I dies
* queen.* Her last words are,
* My senses, Charmion, gently fade to rest
I die, with kisses, on my hero's breast.* An anecdote connected with this Vernon by Marmontel is told (on the authority of the NotrvelU Biographie GhUrale^ 1863) in the Preface to the present volume.
The earliest drama of ViTTORio Alfieri, written at the age <^ twenty-five, is Antonio e Cleopatra^ acted for the first time in Turin, in June, 1775. '^^ P^^X ^'^^ several times re- written, and spoken of by the author in such coBtempCnous terms as
* abortion/ ' refuse,* ' the first tragic and lyric attempt of a socking poet,' etc Of the origin of the version Alfieri gives a description in his Life, ' Sitting unoccupied in
* the saloon of his lady-love, whose health required long periods of retirement and
* silence, he took up hal^-dozen leaves of paper that lay at hand, and sketched upon 'them two or three scenes of dialogue, naming the prindpal speaktx QeopatrL
* This name was suggested by the story woven on the tapestries of the apaztment, ' otherwise, he says, he might just as well have called his heroine Berenice or Zenobia. ' When his paper was exhausted, he thrust the leaves under the cushion of a sofi^
* and there they remained for over a year, during which he visited Rome, and went
* through other experiences wholly alien to composition. Finding his passion ezer- < dsing a baleful influence on his life, he determined to break it off, and in one of his ' last visits to the lady's house, he withdrew from under the cushion his attempt at a ' drama, and proceeded to recast it, still with no very definite plan.* * Of this inci- dent of the cushion Alfieri furthermore sa3rs, ' my earliest attempts at tragedy were
* brooded over, as it were, by the lady herself^ who sat in the chair habitually, and
* by any person who happened to sit down upon it.' f
As far as the historical Geopatra is concerned, Alfieri was eminently correct when he said that he might just as well have called his heroine Berenice or Zenobia, with this qualification, however, that no Berenice or Zenobia was ever so utterly deceitful or cruel as is his Qeopatra. With the exception oi Kotzebite, I can recall no dram- atbt who has given to Cleopatra so black a character as Alfieri. The Egyptian queen drawn by the Italian is as much blacker than the melodramatic Egyptian queen of tbe German as, in genius, Alfieri towered above Kotzebue. In reading Alfieri's
• Stx Cleopatras^ by William Everett, Atlantic Monthly^ February, 1905, p. 261. A delightful Essay which no one interested in the subject can aflbrd to overlook.
t The Traf^es of Vittario Alfieri, From the Italian. Edited by E. A. BowRllfG. 1U>hn'i ed., 1876, p. 422.
DRAMATIC VERSIONS^ALFIERI 543
tragedy let us forget history, forget that Cleopatra was a Greek, and an Egyptian only so far as she had been thus made by Phcebus' amorous pinches, and passively resign ourselves to the tenor inspired by his heroine, whose character reflects the lawless strength and mediaeval warmth of the Italy of the Borgias.
The play opens in Alexandria, immediately after Cleopatra's arrival in Egypt after her disgraceful flight from Actium. She knows nothing of Antony's fate, nor of the result of the battle. She avows to her attendant, Ismene, her inextinguishable remorse for having fled, and possibly causing thereby the defeat of Antony, of whom, up to this moment, she has no news. In the course of her denunciation of herself, she declares,
* It is not love that poisons now my days ;
Ambition to command has ever moved me.
Each path, and none in vain, have I essay'd,
Which could conduct me to that lofty end ;
My other passions all succumb' d to this.
And others' passions minister'd to mine.' * — ^p. 424. She learns that Antony has been utterly defeated. In the following soliloquy, when alone, she throws ofi* all disguise and we here learn her true character :
' Cleo, And now at last
I may pluck off the veil which hides the truth
In a dissembling heart's profound abysses.
Vanquish'd is Antony : this shame and treason
Perchance survives he not ; the base design
I dared to form has been fulfill' d : so much
I could not hope for from my wicked flight
But half the work remains for me to do,
And the most doubtful : vain are my misdeeds,
If to my fate I cannot link Augustus.
And from his heart what answer seek I ? Love : . . .
Love, whom I oft inspired but never knew.
And from whose pow'r, when vanquish'd and disarm'd,
I glory drew, the very victor taming.
Sole barrier to my scheme was Antony :
If he's no more, my conquest will be easy.' — I, iv, p. 419. We next see her in an interview with the disgraced Antony, whose bitter upbraid- ings for her treachery she in vain tries to stem by protestations of her love. When at last he says that he abhors life because he is endlessly disgraced, and abhors death because she might find him out among the Shades and even there destroy his peace, she breaks forth,
' Dost seek, barbarian, solace for thy fury ?
It is not love thou feelest in thy breast,
I know it but too well : here, take this steel !
My bosom I unveil, where once thou restedst ;
Thou know'st it not again, or hast forgotten ;
Raise thy intrepid hand, and brandish it
Then will the blood, which thou didst think unfaithful,
* This extract, and the following metrical extracts, are from the Translation of Alfieri's Tragedies just mentioned.
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APPENDIX
Itosh gushing forth, uui tfraii^htiray c^pe my Aod 6dll opoa my fied, axid bom my buuis Will reck with k; aad whataorrer breith Rcxnains to CleopatrXr tow'rds dice rurniin^ Ejes toll of lo^e, and dirafh, wiQ she cnflcct. To »▼ : Fareveil, I Loved chee^ <&e &r chee !
Anri rii«»n whcQ thoa hast fied dxy angry IooIb
On thy dead enemy, by slov degrees
Thy tory wiE aharr, and coa&czxicy
Revrve in thee again, and thy oki ▼ixtoe. Aml, Hov, Qeopatra, host thon giuxi'd saci
Thus to delude me ever ? yet I Iotc
Thy treachexiesy and those deceitfixL arrrma
Ha^e from my ear reack'd even to my heart.* — ^H, m, pu 43^ She dien giTes a &:titious and fimay escuse iat her fight xbobol ^tTiam she learned, only on the day she «iled, of a poweiial rrhrffinn among her desgned to deUver Egypt to Cesar, md she cetomed to ^jpxSL it, not tor the ake of her own throne, but solely oat of love fur AntL^ny. Antox^ is xppessed. hot mc am- vioced. His supreme love for ho* forbids hfm to reason. Bat vhAher she be troe or &Ise, he mnst leare her. encoanter Czsxr. and che \xi. P^attfr,
Havtog fiuled in her aftrmpc to destroy Antony at Actmnu Ceopatzia nov de^aes a seczmd jb& more fiiti? act ni treachery which cm hardly ^ztl of a woBoesAsi orec, gather in nrwing Antony to Lose his ufe in battle or to '^"""-^ *xiw'mI** gi^ dns drsrioses it Co lanene :
^a second plot
L» in the odd prepared, t'assore the ffwf
The waxiike trmnpefs scarcely will be heazd
Tj sonnd the haughty sgnal for the fight^
When on the sea the ships, on land the cohartSy.
Abandoning the leader they ooce ovn'^d.
Win range themselTes beneath Aognstosf ^^^^wn^
Left by their ffight defencslea, Ancnny
WUl tnm Jtrainst himsrif his bitter fixrr.' rTT. £, «
The plot succeeds and Antony netams, hixving tDodied 1 lower deep e»er before conceived oC and with pracf tDo dear of OeopafKi's trettLheti. There is oodting before aim now bnt infamy .ir death. The same wiH be Qeopatza's hat. Since diey are herein eqoaL he bids her rnke his sword, trandix with it her hest. tenim it to hxm, and he will then transtTT his own. She tnms oale. bat, sdH cstain of her supreme power over him, artfolly evades the fetal stroke by sxyh^ that tte win oeadi him how to die. and in soch an honunrable detfh oothmg is wmstn^
* save that rfiy dearer hand
Shonld goide the friendly iteeJ ; mine astyhe, tzemhuw;
Or, little wont to strife, might give tfe lie
Both to my valor, and thy crnei thoughts.
Into this heart, by not an anknown p»fft,
Th' ivengmg h\zA& may pfange : deep scnlptarei t^-ir^.
Thy ratal hnage wtH be 'oond by thee ;
Thou didst bnpress ;t» thou ^lalt cancel it :
The iagjer take, and strike. .. dum aim'st *way ? *— m, B,pL4#«.
DRAMATIC VERSIONS^ALFIERI 545
As Qeopatra had foreseen, Antony refused to strike and was in the very act of taming the sword against himself, when his hand was stayed by the announcement that Caesar was about to enter. Cleopatra retires. Caesar addresses Antony in friendly and encouraging terms, promising to bury all hostility in oblivion, and finally invites him to return to Rome, but will not promise that Cleopatra shall not grace his triumph. Antony breaks off the interview by saying that * never shall that woman
* be in Rome By mortal seen as subject to Augustus, Who once deserved the love of
* Antony.' In a conversation with his friend, Septimius, Caesar declares that he intends to procure Antony's death at the hands of Qeopatra, and then, after having been kept for the disgrace of being led in his triumph, Qeopatra herself shall be put to a wretched death.
In the Fourth Act there is an interview between Augustus and Cleopatra, who puts forth all her arts to win the Roman conqueror ; she claims his gratitude for having wilfully betrayed Antony at Actium, and again for having caused all her army to desert him. Augustus intimates his hopes that Cleopatra will some day be his queen, and that she will not disdain to divide his sceptre with him ; in those happy days, perchance, Qeopatra will weep at having loved Antony so much. To this artful suggestion Cleopatra replies,
' Too much I loved ungrateful Antony ;
No more I love him ; to amend my fault
I'm now prepared : it is not hate or vengeance
Which urges me to-day my fault to cancel,
But reason, the cool reason of a monarch.
For a long time his death has seem'd to be
Not only useful for this kingdom, long
By him despoil' d, but indispensable;
And now that his existence might once more
Re-open all the ancient wounds of Rome,
Destroy the peace of the whole world, and partly
Rob thee of thy supreme felicity,
*Twould be a crime to have compassion on him.' — IV, ii, p. 454. Hereupon, Cleopatra, in unmeasured terms, confesses her admiration of Augustus, who responds in protestations, equally sincere, of his love for her. At last Augustus says, * But Antony draws nigh ; we must dissemble.' When Antony enters he is furious at the sight of Augustus alone with Qeopatra. Both endeavour to appease him, — Augustus by indignation at Antony's mistrust, Cleopatra by asseverations of her undying, faithful love,— for Antony's sake there is no sacrifice she will not make, to fulfill his wishes ; if he desires her to be led in triumph in Rome she will fly to the chariot; without Antony she is a living corpse. At last Augustus bids Qeopatra live as queen, and with her lover if she wishes it ; in the temple let them all swear lasting oblivion to their former hatred. After Augustus has left, the poor disgraced, bewildered, heart-broken Antony tells Cleopatra that he will seek the temple to ask the gods for guidance. As soon as he is gone, Qeopatra looks after him, saying, * Credulous lover, go not to the temple ;
Go rather to an unexpected death
Yes, find thou death, and heinous treachery.
There, where thou look'st for life, for love and peace.'— p. 459. Qeopatra thereupon commands Diomedes to follow Antony, and, in a dark pas- sage leading to the temple, stab hhn, and let the victim also know at whose command
35
546
APPEXDIX
the blow is stnick. Diomedes shoftlj retams, and reports that be has dooe die deed; Qeopatra rejoices that * the odioas rugged chains of Antooj at length aie bcokn.' But Aagastns receives the news of Antony's death bj no means with the pleasare that Qeopatra had anticipated. He is» oo the contrarr, sternly indignant, and spcsks of Antony as * a great hero/ ' a mighty warrior,' who was worthy of a fiu- more ncble end, and declares that * To rid him of his enemies, Angostos Has never son^ a * woman's coward band.' He conunands Cleopatra to prepare to follow him to Roaeir there to render an accoant of her atrocious goilL After he is gone Oeopatra*s expres- sions of grief over the complete failore of her plan are bitter and her tows of tg:^ ance on Aognstos are deep. In the midst of them Antony enters^ The conra^ of Diomedes had failed him, or rather his compassion and lore for Antony had proved too great. In Antonyms living presence no sobterfnge wiU avail the wretdied qneen, and she openly confesses that she feels neither pity nor remorse. In the last Scene all the chaxacters are present, Antony addresses Angustns in noble words of mii^lrd pride, resignation, and defiance ; then, trzming to Cleopatra, eydaims, • Fly, fly, O queen, the horrors of a triumph.
Horrors far worse than those of any death.
Wherefore alone to die is granted to ns ?
I conld have given thee yet more of life
Angustns, now will the whole world be thine :
Since I have taught thee how thoa shoold'st not reign ;
If thou, like me, shoold'st be unfortunate.
Learn to die bravely, as does Antony. \^KiUs kimulp
Diomedes. Brave warrior ! Heav'n was jealoos of thy presence
On this ungrateful earth. [Antonj^ is home of.
Auptstus. Now let the queen
Be dragged away from hence by force, if prayers
Are not sufficient
Cleopatra. Stop, thou borb'rous one !
Thou fain wouldst tie me to thy car in Rome ?
At least permit me to delight my eyes
In horrors and in blood, yes, e'en in death ;
That I may lose my senses, and extract
Fresh fury from them — But since heav'n is slow
The wicked to chastise, and I'm unable
To pierce thy breast, I pierce my own instead. [Slabs kerulf.
Au^. Heav'ns, Cleopatra!
CUo. I unworthy
Of life ^but, if to thee the curses now
By wicked rage invoked can fatal be.
Then horror, and deceit, and treachery
Will close pursue thee, and at last thou' It find
The horrid death which is a tyrant's due
Furies — infernal Furies — come ye now ?-
I follow you — ah !— with thy viper's torch.
Thou discord black, thou fain wouldst light my way.
Give it to me — in dying I perchance
Might set the world on fire, and so dissolve it
Dost cry for vengeance, Antony ? — 'tis blood
DRAMATIC VERSIONS^AYRENHOFF 547
* But faithless blood — O horror — ^ruin — death. [Dits.
Augustus. O Romans, let us go ; in this vile land All breathes of terror, making heav*n impure ; The very air with ev'ry vice is tainted.'
Genest (vi, 63) gives the following abstract of a Tragedy, called Antony and CUop€Ura^ by Henry Brooke (author of The Fool of Quality)^ published in 1778, but omitted in an edition, edited by Brooke* s daughter, in 1792. (I have been unable to obtain a copy.)
< Antony and Qeopatra — one-third, or perhaps one-half of this play is taken •from Shakspeare — the other part is Brooke's — he has added 3 new characters — the
* 2 children of Antony and Cleopatra ; and Ptolemy her brother — these characters
< are not happy additions to the Dramatis Persona, In the 2d act Antony seeing
* Cleopatra embrace Ptolemy, and not knowing who he is, leaves Alexandria in a
* violent fit of jealousy— on being undeceived he returns. Shakspeare* s play, with
* all its faults, is infinitely superior to Brooke's — ^yet it must be allowed that a consid-
< erable part of Brooke's additions is well written — the scene lies entirely at Alexan- ' dria — the characters of Caesar and Octavia with many others are omitted.'
In 1783, at a period when there was in Germany a temporary reaction against Shakespeare, there appeared, Kleopatra und Antonius^ A Tragedy in Four Acts, by Corneuus von Ayrenhoff, Austrian Lieutenant- Field- Mars hall. In a long and polemical Preface, addressed to Wiefand, the writer denounces the dramatic critics of the day. * How can we expect/ he exclaims in his indignation, ' that such 'instructors in art, who have learned in public taverns all their knowledge of
* refined society and there educated their taste, will defend the laws which govern the
* Three Unities, elegant manners, and versification ? What is more natural than that
* they should keep on praising incessantly the monster [ Ungeheuer'\ Shakespeare as 'the highest product of all nations, not because he often shows traces of great
* genius, but because through him we become accustomed to all kinds of possible law-
< lessness, and that they should on every occasion dismiss with contempt the master-
< pieces of Corneille, Racine, and Voltaire ? ' — p. 1 1. Ayrenhoff states how deeply he had been stirred by the story of Cleopatra as told by Plutarch, and how inadequately it had been presented by the dramatists. He had read the tragic story in Shake- speare, in la Chapelle, in Lohenstein, in Dryden, and exclaims, ' Poor Cleopatra I
* thou fairest, loveliest, most unfortunate woman of antiquity ! how brutally hast thou
* been treated ! It was not enough that thou wert robbed of thy throne and of thy
* life by thy hateful contemporary, the cunning and cowardly Octavius, but the poets
* of later days are still presenting thee on the public stage as a disgrace to thy sex 1 ' After this open avowal of compassionate love and admiration, we find in Ajnrenhoff's tragedy what is to be expected, a Qeopatra who, while conformed to the records of Plutarch, is idealised into a lofty character, quite too good for human nature's daily food. I know of no other Cleopatra exactly like her. The tragedy is skilfully written and has in it some good Scenes, especially the last, which, in Cleopatra's treatment of Octavius, is really admirable. It is written in Alexandrine rhyming couplets.
The opening Scenes somewhat remind us of Dryden. Lucilius, Antony's dear friend and trusted General, corresponds to the Ventidius of the English poet ; he cheers Antony in his despair after Actium, warning him at the same time of the influence
548
APPENDIX
of Qeopatra ; at last he tells him plainly that defeat is certain unless he abandons the queen. With the warning words ' Remember Actimn ! ' he departs, and Qeopatra enters. She will not listen to Antonyms gloomy forebodings. Nothing can trouble her so long as Antony loves.
* As we began, so, too, the end must be ;
The greatest man the world can prize, art thou ;
Sole woman worthy of such greatness, I.
Let throne and world be shattered by Octavius ;
For Antony alone, does Cleopatra tremble.'
Antony tells the queen that eren now a decisive battle is imminent. Qeopatra replies that she is ready, * to the determined soul, uncertainty alone is pain ; ' and points to the mausoleum which she has built, ' That, for Qeopatra will the refoge be.
* Would, O beloved one ! it might be with thee I '
Antony reminds her of his vow not to survive her, but will not believe that sndi a desperate remedy is near. Indeed, he is heartened for the battle to which he will now go with joy, and return a victor, or word shall be brought to her of his death. He departs and Qeopatra, thus early in the play, bids Qiarmion procure some asps and tell the priests to make ready the mausoleum.
When the next Act opens the battle has been fought, Antony has been victorious ; Qeopatra awaits his approach, with a laurel wreath wherewith to crown him. Antony enters and is crowned by Cleopatra with extravagant expressions of love and admiration. Word is brought that a veiled Roman lady desires an audience with Antony alone. Antony refuses to see her, but Qeopatra intercedes. ' It may be,' she says, < some wife or mother come to beg the Ufe of her dear one ; and, if so, send
* the unhappy one to me, and I will try to comfort her.' She leaves and the veiled lady enters ; at Anton3r's bidding she draws aside her veil and reveals Octavia. She prostrates herself before him, but he bids her rise ; she recalls to him their happy, cloudless years in Athens, but not to win him back is she come, but to bring peace between her husband and her brother, who, she declares, still holds Antony in food affection and is anxious to become reconciled. To none of her arguments will Antony accede, but ends with saying that there are other obstacles, known only to himsdf. Octavia understands this reference to Cleopatra and replies,
< Full well I know that you will never take A step that leads to Qeopatra's harm. And this I honour ; you can lightly judge
That I do not forget the cause of iL \Antony expresses astomskment. Ignoble hate has ne'er disgraced my heart. Thou lov'st her — this shows she's worthy of thy love. Although I ne'er can rival her in charms. In greatness of the soul, she'll not excel me. And more I ask not. Ah, not from envy Would I disturb these bonds which make you blest Far less to me, I own, is my own weal Than thine, — dear father of my children ! '
Antony replies that all is in vain ; he honours her and will always honour her, but, ascribe it to Fate if need be, he cannot comply with her wishes. The children are then brought in, and they, with their mother, fall at the leet of Antony, who is deeply moved. Qeopatra enters, and in the veiled Roman lady discovers Octavia,
DRAMA TIC VERSIONS— A YRENHOFF
549
who explains to her that she is come to try to extricate Antony from his perilous position and begs for protection. Cleopatra replies, * I wonder greatly at thy deed, Octavia !
How I regard it, I'll not now explain.
Yet know, whoe*er as friend, — for such thou claim'st to be, —
Seeks my protection, it shall be bestowed.
[ To Charmion] Be it your care to see throughout my court
That, like myself, she's treated as a queen.
[ To Octavia'^ Free, as thou may'st, from the engulfing flood
Thy husband, sinking neath the raging storm ;
May heaven aid thee, — and reward thy pains !
In nought will I deprive thee of the merit.
Complete your plans untrammelled. But know this,
From them I must be utterly excluded.
As soon as he has made his firm resolve.
Then, and not till then, I'll decide my lot.
And also until then, I ask you, Sir,
To suffer me to stay in my seclusion.
Ant, What ! Cleopatra asks
Cleop, Nothing; she commands;
And counts, — if she is dear, — on thy obedience. [Exit with her train? As soon as she is gone Octavia breaks forth into admiration of the nobility of her character. But none the less does she urge her vacillating husband to return with her and their children to Rome and to the paths of virtue. Antony at last decides that he will lay down his power and become a private citizen if Caesar will do the same. Should Caesar consent to do this, and the Senate confirm her throne to Cleopatra, he will live in Athens with Octavia, from whom no power on earth can then separate him. Octavia is certain that she can persuade her brother to this course and the Scene ends with profuse tears of joy all round, to which effusion Lucilius contributes. Charmion, who had come to tell Octavia that her apartments were ready, is a witness to this reconciliation and reports it to her anxious mistress, offering, at the same time, to kill Octavia during the night. This horrifies Cleopatra, who sternly reproves her. At last she decides to send a secret messenger to Caesar's camp, and the Act ends. In the next Act^ while waiting for the result of Octavia's intercession with Octavius, Antony and Qeopatra have a stormy scene. Cleopatra asserts that Antony had conunitted her fate to Caesar. This Antony denies, and says that Rome, through the Senate on its oath, had for ever renounced all claim to Cleopatra's throne.
* CUop. Much longed for chance ! forsooth my bliss is boundless !
Yet, Sir, to whom must I ascribe this bliss ?
To Rome? Octavia? To Caesar? or to thee? Ant, Thou triflest. Queen I CUop. [with angry earnestness.^ Resolve me then my doubts !
Whose is the saving ann that, out of pity.
Maintains me on my throne ancestral ?
To whom do I owe thanks for this, my crown !
Is't not Octavia ? is it not her charms.
Whose power, — ^to win thee from me, — won Rome's grace ?
Did not a single tear, shed at thy feet.
Nay but a single sigh, dissolve the bond
550
APPENDIX
* That knit os finn together, up till now. And place within the power of m j foe Mj £site, mj fame, and all my happiness ? This, tAisy ingnte, shalt thou explain to me/
Antony complains that OctaTta would not have persuaded him, had Qeopatxa ; bat a word or giren a hint. She ac^ain breaks forth,
* A word, a hint from me ! — to rouse thy duty ? Traitor ! shewed she not to thee thine inmost heart? Could I believe thy faith so weakly grounded ? And to Octavia's tongue must I submit.
And blush at every word, cooiess my fear.
And by my lowness make her triumph greater ?
So low no power shall ever make me bow !
Let th^im^ then brute, deprive me of my throne.
One thing remains, my honour is my own
And should this pride, this day involve my death
The thought of but one weakness makes me rue : —
That, O barbarian, I hare lived £br you ! ^ Antony rrrlanniS that this is beyond endurance and that Octavm shall at once letmn, alone, to Rome, all thought of peace shall be relinquished, and demands that Qeopatra shall tell him what course to take. She replies,
' The work thou hast begun, complete. This, Sir,
Is all that thou canst do. FareweO. Ami. No, cruel one, before thou gocst
Say what for me and thee thou hast resolved.
Cltop. Thereto must Cesar tirst bestow the poiper.
The one on tnal cannot be the judge.
FarewelL [£jrrf/
Antony for a while rages against Qeopatra, but at last recognises that it is reaH? love for him that nukes her jeopardise her throne and her very life. Then he decides that Octavia is the real cause of all this misery, and resolves never to see her again, hut remain for ever bv Oeooatn's side. Lucilius enters* but is so shacked at Anionv's change of heart that be departs in anger. Antony sends after him ; when he retans he so convicts Antony of folly in dinging to Cleopatca that Antony swears never to see her again until he parts front ho- for ever. Octavia. enters with Cjesar* letter of assent to Antony's proposition : Cesar will lay down his power and live ss a private citizen in Epims; Qeopatra's dirone shall be unmolested. The jovisf AntDoy, Octavia, and the children is unbounded. Cleopatra enters and Ancoaiy endeavours to explain to her the situation and its advantages for all ccncented. Geo- pada declares that she tcx) has been in correspondence vrith Cesar, and hands to Antony a letter from Cesar wherein she is told tu place no reliance on his agrae- ment with Occavio* and tiiot he pledges himself to secure her safety and her thzuce if she will send him Antnny's head. Octavia, heartbroken, over the dsplioiy of her tKacherous brother, departs with her children and is seen, no more. Antony dtzcws hunself at the feet of Cleopatra and with tears acknowledges her magnaniBiCT. Be takes a tender leave of her and deports to plunge into battle with t^i^^"- Get> patra, from a tower of her palace, watches the Ught and sees Anfiocy's deteaL DwBetnos, whom :^ie had scsit fi}r news of Antony's welfons. estfer^ *ial zetat'^s bov AntKMiy, on a 6dse report of Cleopatra's deaih« had atcenxpced to kill himself, md^
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— AYRENHOFF 551
when told by Demetrius that she was alive, had sent her tender messages imploring her forgiveness. Cleopatra commands Demetrius to bring Antony to her at once, and bids Charmion fetch the asp. Antony is brought in, borne by soldiers. Both Cleopatra and Antony implore forgiveness of each other. He begs her to fly, she protests that life has no more charm for her, but to die with him will be her highest bliss. Antony dies, and after her first outburst of sorrow Cleopatra exclaims, < I
* who deeply swore not after thee to live, A proof of my true faith I hasten now
* to give.*
Dolabella enters, and, under a feigned weakness and timidity, she extracts from him the secret that within three days she is to be sent to Rome. Cleopatra gives him a letter to be delivered to Csesar. When alone with Charmion, Cleopatra bids her place a throne near Antony's corpse ; she then takes the vase containing the aspic, lifts the cover, and looking in, says,
' Well, little thing ! how fixedly thou starest ! Dost think thy hissing can awaken fright ? [sorrow !
Here I [thrusting her arm into the vase.'\ Cool thy anger and abate my It hurts not, Charmion ! \_She returns to the corpse.^ Now, my departed friend ! for ever we're united. Now I dare call thee husband, — myself thy wife. Nought severs us again ; one tomb for both ! This thought alone, for me, can sweeten death.* She bids Charmion bring her crown and summon all her attendants, who enter and group themselves about her with the emblems of royalty — the diadem and sceptre. She says, aside < What coolness steals so softly through my veins ! Is it < the poison ? ah, how gentle I '
She tells her attendants that she has remembered them all and that Demetrius has the gold ; even if they are subject to Csesar they must always retain the free- dom in their hearts to love and remember her. Dolabella enters and announces the approach of Csesar, who, shortly after, enters. Dolabella, in an aside, says to the queen that she must rise, and not remain seated in Caesar's presence. She keeps her seat.
* Casar. O woeful sight I Unhappy Antony ! Why could I never win thy confidence ? Thy hatred was my grief, — at last thy ruin ! Unhappy queen ! I feel for thy misfortune !
Cieop. Had our mischance not been thy fortune's germ I doubt not thou hadst pitied us, Octavius. But, Sir, unpitied I can bear my sorrow.* Caesar assures her that he is her friend, and she obtains from him the promise that she shall be buried in the same tomb with her Antony ; Caesar considers it a trifling request, he was ready to grant much greater.
* Cleop. To thee it may be small, to me *tis great. Is it no salve in death to be united To him who was the dearest upon earth ? Ay, — to that great man, the very last great man This servile world can ever name with pride? Dolabella. [aside,'\ Ah, Qeopatra ! Cleop. What ! shall I refrain from praising him ? Caesar himself can witness to his greatness ;
552 APPENDIX
' To it, forsooth, he owes his happy fortune, The laurel, which adorns him now, was gathered For him at Philippi by Antony. That weighty fight saw Caesar but preparing, — He had a fever then, and could not fight
Qtsar, What insolent derision, thou audacity !
Dolabella. [aside to Casar.'] Pardon her, Sire ! Her sorrows tempt her to forget herself.
Cleop, Friend, let him rage ! he'll learn to honour truth I He rules now uncontrolled — ^he'U never hear it more !
Casar. Insulting Pride ! Know*st thou not who I am, And who thyself art now ?
Cieqp, For aye, a queen !
Whose fearless daring no soldier can dismay ! ^Vho e*en in death can still avenge an insult.
Casar. An insult ? Thou ? From me ?
CUop. From thee, thou tyrant ! [She throws Casar^s Idter
Who dared to ask from me assassination ; to her at his feet.
Who held me as a traitor to my loved one ; Offered my realm as the reward of crime. How mean the conqueror shows beside the conquered ! How dastardly stands forth assassination Beside the honourable duello, — Fraud and deceit by honesty and courage ! [She sinks down. Char-
Dolabella. What does this mean ? Her eyes grow dim ! mion brings her
Charmion. She is dying. to the throne.
Casar. Ha ! who loves his life speak out, and say What means this —
Oeop. Spare thy anger ! Egypt's queen has finished Her last duty — she dies and will not basely — Out-live her glory — Lay me by Antony — Thou hast pledged thy word — Oh, Charmion — 'Tis ice — death's freezing hand — my heart — My Antony I [She dies."] *
^^ 1793 Julius, Reichsgraf von Soden, published a Tragedy in prose, called Kleopatra. Whether or not it was ever acted I do not know. In a short Preface the author remarks that the subject has been already used by the dramatists of many nations, and, among them, Shakespeare stands at the head. From his own study of history the author has been led to believe that full justice has not been done to the character of Cleopatra, in whom he believed that he discerned * a mingling of ' coquetry and nobility, of voluptuousness and strength, of weakness, of womanliness, * and of regal freedom, which explained all the apparent contradictions of her acts.* In carrying out this conception I cannot say that I think the author is altogether successful. The voluptuous tendency in Geopatra's nature is emphasized, — indeed, it is more conspicuous than in any other version with which I am acquainted. I can perceive no traces in Cleopatra of unusual strength of character, unless it be the unabashed way in which she unfolds to her maid, Miris, her excellent reasons for changing from the unsuccessful Antony to the successful Caesar. Unlike other Ver-
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— VON SODEN
553
sums there is no parting Scene between Antony and Cleopatra. Anton3r's attempt at suicide is entirely successful ; Cleopatra merely hears of his death and applies the asp only when Caesar's steps are on the threshold of the pyramid in which she had taken refuge from Antony, who was seeking to kill her after the desertion to Caesar of the Egyptian army.
The foregoing abstract is all that I had intended to give of this version, which, written in prose, seemed to me to be, in general, of inferior merit. I found, however, to my amazement, that Moeller pronounces it ' the most noteworthy version in Ger- 'man literature.* In Moeller's concluding remarks he acknowledges that VON SoDEN has not succeeded in making Cleopatra a perfectly consistent character, but in spite of this he does not hesitate to affirm that < this drama, together with the lyric
* effusion of Prince George of Prussia, furnishes the German version of Cleopatra's ' tragedy which we can, at this day, read with pleasure.' In deference to this opinion I now give an ampler abstract. The opening locality is Tarentum, where Octavius and Antony are feasting each other before Octavius starts on his expedition against Sextus Pompeius and Antony sets out on the war against the Parthians. The first Scene lies in Antony's house. Geopatra enters, accompanied by Miris, her maid, and is thrilled by the thought that she is really in Antony's home, against the majestic pillars whereof he may have once leaned, ' this floor, lifeless though it be,
< has borne the footsteps of the lord of the world, and is proud of it.' (There is a faint reminiscence of Shakespeare here.) ' It does not compare with your palace at
* Alexandria,' says Miris. * Palace ! ' exclaims Cleopatra, * It was a palace when it
< enclosed Antony within its walls. Palace, do I call it ? It was a temple, conse-
< crated to love and adorned with all its magic. Ah ! when he hung upon my neck,
< our souls lost themselves on our lips ! Then ! — Isis drew about us a magic circle,
< and, sundered from all mortal thoughts, Elysium was in us and about us. Fkythee, ' Miris, how did I look when Caesar lay at my feet ?
Miris. Like the goddess, to whom we bring our oiTerings.
CUopatra, And I am still Qeopatra ?
Miris, Assuredly.
CUopatra. Seest thou wrinkles on this brow ? Has time dimmed the glance which prostrated at my feet the conqueror of the world ?
Miris. By no means.
CUopatra. Then have no fear, Miris. Antony is mine I And even if Eljrsium has thrown wide its gates, or Orcus opened its abyss for him, with a single smile I can call him back, and repel the Fates. The powers of Heaven and of Hell cannot restrain him firom me.'
Miris refers to Octavia. * Silence ! ' Qeopatra cries, < By heaven ! If you value 'your life, mention her not again! That humdrum, lackadaisical creature! that ' alabaster image of simplicity will be frightened off by a single puff of breath from
* my lips. Aha ! that breath has wrought mightier wonders. It has dissolved every ' nerve of the untamed Antony in love and voluptuousness, and subdued the very
< tigers. Antony, he knows what it is ! . . . Know then, Miris, a man is only what the
* woman makes him. It is woman alone who can evoke this headlong rush of the
< blood, this all -embracing flight of the imagination, — the sole source of great and
< exalted deeds. This Antony, Miris, this fearful Colossus, Antony, who covers half
* the world with his shadow, — by all the gods, dear Miris, when, asleep in my arms,
< I bmd him to the bedposts [a feeble attempt to imitate the teasings of Shakespeare's Qeopatra], * and then when he awakes, slip away from the sulky hero, with a laugh,
554
APPENDIX
< — if this poor world, whose lord he is, could see him then, what do you suppose it
< would think of its fettered demi-god ?
Miris. Poor, poor Antony !
Cleopatra. Hush ! not even the gods themselves dare hear the secrets of women.
Miris. You are then resolved
Cleopatra. To take him back to Alexandria with me.
Miris, Why then do you not appear as Cleopatra ?
Cleopatra. No, Miris, no. The sheen of purple dries up the tears of pity, and freezes compassion. AU alone, unadorned, with dishevelled hair, like a bride whose wild war has engulfed the bridegroom, I will appear before him, — like an orphaned one will I embrace his feet, — with hot tears bedew his warlike thoughts and melt his wildness into voluptuousness.'
They hear Antony coming and Exeunt.
In the next five Scenes Antony learns that Sextus Pompeius is dead and that Lepidus is arrested ; he thereupon vents his rage on Octavius, whom he now hates.
< I hate his eye,' he exclaims (and it is one of the best sayings in the play), ' I hate
< his eye ; in it I see myself, — and I'll not be doubled ! A second self is too much
< for me ! ' Octavia labours hard to effect a reconciliation between her brother and her husband and is at last successful. These are among the best Scenes of the play, if not the very best. The contrast between Octavius's sedate temperament and Antony's headlong, blustering violence, yet honest withal, is well kept up. Indeed, in my opinion Antony is the best character in the play, which, with advantage, might have been called Antonius, instead of * Cleopatra.'
With the kisses of his wife and the words, * Farewell, my sweet Octavia ! * still on his lips, Antony meets Qeopatra. He is astounded at seeing her in Tarentum; she at once taxes him with treachery and desertion. * Who was it,' she bursts forth, < that in the delicious intoxication of love swore never, never to desert me ? ' ^^1lo ? Hast thou forgotten, thou faithless man ! the moments when our souls ling- * ered on our wounded lips, when heavenly fire shot through every fibre, and glorified ' our beings, and, bathed in this sea of beneficent flames — hah, Elysium itself cannot ' outweigh a single moment of such existence !
Antony. Refrain, Cleopatra I refrain I the memory makes me quiver !
Cleopatra. To think that inexorable time has power over such delights ! that the impression of such feelings can vanish like a dream !
Antony. Do me not wrong, Cleopatra.
Cleopatra. No Antony I Thou art more or less than mortal, in that Ihou canst forget such feelings. Were I immortal and should lose myself in eternity, they would be my sole thought. Antony has treated me cruelly. Thou divine Isis, and all ye heavenly hosts, bear me witness how wholly I gave myself to this man ; throughout the whole broad world I felt, saw, heard nothing but him ! Every breath I drew, I counted lost that did not expire on his lips.
Antony. Thou dear, dear, beloved one ! '
Antony is on the point of yielding when Ventidius enters and summons him to the camp ; he is about to obey when Cleopatra makes one last and de^>erate appeal to him.
' Antony. Cleopatra, what dost thou demand ?
Cleopatra. Dear, beloved idol of my soul, what in this wide world can I wish for, demand, long for but thee ? but thyself?
Antony. Sorceress ! omnipotent Sorceress I whither would'st thou lead me ?
DRAMA TIC VERSIONS— VON SO DEN
555
Cleopatra. To these arms, open to thee alone, to this bosom, to be pressed alone to thine, to these lips that glow alone for thee !
Antony, So be it ! *
Antony breaks off all negotiations with Cesar and follows Cleopatra to Alexan- dria. Cscsar stirs up the Senate to declare war on Antony by setting forth Antony's prodigality in giving away provinces and cities, and by his treatment of Octavia. We have then a wild scene of revelry in the Palace of Cleopatra. Before Antony has slept off his drunken debauch, Ventidius comes to announce that Csesar with his army is at hand. He finally arouses Antony and inspires him with wonted warlike fury. Actium is fought and the battle lost. Antony's despair and humiliation are, as in all other versions, profound. Again, as in former Scenes, his character is well sustained. Cleopatra attempts to console him and so far succeeds that she gains his consent to send a message to Octavius.
* Cleopatra, A wise man bends before the storm and, safe in port, awaits a more favourable hour. Thy name is still formidable enough —
Antony, to frighten children to hide behind tlffeir mother's apron ?
Cleopatra. — to obtain from Caesar an advantageous arrangement. Perhaps he will let me remain in Eg3rpt, and permit you to retire to private life.
Antony. " Permit ? " This word forces blood out at my eyes !
Cleopatra, Only this once ! Oh, only this once ! Listen to thy loved one I — Like the soft whispers of zephyrs the rest of thy life will glide away I My devotion shall infuse new strength and life into thy veins. Far from the dangers of a hero's path thou shalt repose on my breast, and from my lips thou shalt drink oblivion ; I will only live, only breathe for thee.
Antony. In vain do I close my ears. The magic of thy voice dissolves my whole being in love.*
Of course Antony is won ; as soon as Qeopatra is alone she murmurs : < What a * pitiful creature a conquered man is ! Cleopatra I Cleopatra ! Dost thou still really ' love this shadow of an Antony ? Ah, how high above him towers the young, pow- < erful Caesar ! No, no, it was Antony that I loved, and Antony is now no more ! '
Antony meets Ventidius and by him is again inspired with martial ardour, and with the hope that by attacking Csesar he can regain his lost honour. A battle is fought ; at the end of the day Antony is victorious and returns triumphant to Cleo- patra, who has a laurel wreath ready for him. In the midst of their rejoicing word is brought that Ca:sar is advancing to a fresh attack. In the meantime Cleopatra has received a secret messenger from Csesar, and while Antony is absent, renewing his fight with Caesar, she thus reveals her treachery to Miris :
* Miris, Caesar sent that offer to you ?
CUop. Ay, indeed, and more too, if I would only deliver Antony up to him.
Miris, Did you promise it ?
Cleop, We're not yet fully agreed. But just one glance of mine, a single smile of mock-modesty cast backward over the shoulder will bring this conqueror of the world prostrate at my feet.
Miris. And Antony?
CUop. Antony ? — Alas I Antony is no longer Antony.
Miris. No longer? To whom thou sworest eternal fidelity? Thy terrestrial god?
Cleop. That was Antony, the fortunate Antony ; the conqueror of half the world, feared from sunrise to sunset, in all the splendour of the highest earthly height !
S56
APPENDIX
' Afiris. Alas ! it is the same Antony whom thou lovedst I
C/fop. Miris, Miris, love is the favourite of Fortune. Suppose she deserts him? Fortune, with her all-powerful wheel, rolls everything up and down, excepting only me.
Miris. Pardon me, queen, love accepts the man, without any accidental splen- dour. Thou hast never loved him.
CUop. By the inmiortals I I have ; but love, like Fortune, has its caprices.
Afiris, Poor Antony !
CUop, That is just it ! No, no, Cleopatra was not made to be the inamorata of a common mortal.
Miris. Thou wilt leave him then ?
CUop. Is it my fault, if Fortune has left him ? . . . I>ost thou not understand my plans?
Miris. What wilt thou do with Oesar ?
CUop. The fate of his father and of Antony awaits him. When the world becomes too small for these rapacious Romans ; when, in the course of their restless ambition, they crush nations, and the immeasurable universe offers no limit to their rapacity, — ^then it is Cleopatra who sets a limit to them. Here the wild conqueror lays down his arms ; his haughty soul becomes entangled in the shifting web of love and luxury, with all its secret, and infinitely varying delights, which I weave about him, sometimes with a sparing, sometimes with a lavish hand ; his greatness vanisheSi his energy slumbers, he sinks to the level of the common herd. And such a triumph 1 by the immortal I sis, I would not exchange it for one of Caesar's fairest victories ! *
Euphronius enters and adjures Cleopatra to fly. Antony has been defeated and is on his way hither, more raging than the ' Hyrcanian tiger ' in his threats of venge- ance against the queen, who at once takes to flight and escapes. When Ventidias has succeeded somewhat in calming Antony, he brings forward Octavia and Antony's children. Reconciliation and forgiveness rule the hour. Geopatra, with Miris, has betaken herself to her Monument, and, knowing that she cannot appease Antony in his present mood, confides to Miris that she will send him word that she is dead, whereupon he will come to the Monument in deepest grief, and she, ' blooming, even < in the grave, with all those charms which were so dangerous to him, will sink into *hi8 arms, and, with glowing kisses, steal forgiveness from his lips.' Euphronius brings word that Octavia is in Alexandria and is reconciled to Antony. A Scene here follows which is a weak, very weak, imitation of Shakespeare's Scene of ^to- patra and the slave who brings word that Antony is married to Octavia. "When the tempest, such as it is, subsides, Euphronius is sent to announce Qeopatra's death to Antony, who is just finishing a highly moral discourse to his children on the wicked* ness of women, as Euphronius enters. After Euphronius retires, the manner of Antony's death is the same as in Plutarch. Euphronius returns to Qeopatra and reports Antony's despair when he announced her death to hinL Qeopatra's exul- tation at this proof that Antony still loves her is boundless ; all her love for Antony revives in tenfold force, and she revels in the thought of meeting him again. This * lightning before death,* as it were, is well conceived.
As soon as Euphronius is gone, Cleopatra breaks forth to Miris :
* He loves me ! Antonius still loves me ! Did he not say « de^xair " ?
Miris. So I heard it
CUop. Ay, "despair" ! A frightful word, but to me so sweet! Did he not speak of dejection ?
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— KOTZEBUE 557
Mir, Yes, indeed.
Cieop, Dejection is the twin-sister of love I Love feeds dejection, and dejection feeds love.
Mir. I heard of frenzy also.
Cleop, Didst hear it ! Frenzy I O this boundary line of passion is merely the highest step of love, the very summit of earthly joy.
Mir, And all this, Queen ? —
Cleop, Whither leads it ? O short-sighted girl ! — Do you not know that Antonius will hasten hither? Hither ! to gaxe for the last time on the remains of his Cleo- patra?
Mir, And then ?
CUop, Then ? Then ? O Miris, the gods themselves cannot appreciate the bliss of such a meeting I *
Word is brought that Antony has killed himself; Cleopatra drives from her pres- ence the luckless messenger, of whom she demands to know if * he has not sucked ' up every misfortune in nature, like a poisonous sponge, only to squeeze it out over 'her.* Miris brings the asp in a basket of flowers; Qeopatra apostrophises the spirit of Antony ; she will ' cross the floods of eternity, as a queen, to him, and by
* her noble death appease him. But how,' she exclaims, ' if I should not find him ?
* What if this presentiment of another meeting, — this powerful yearning for a re-
* union, — were a mere phantom ? a fancy of the heated imagination ? an intoxication
* of the soul, such as follows a goblet of Falemian ? * When Csesar's feet are almost on the threshold of the monument Qeopatra applies the asp to her breast :
' Cieop, It is done ! Drain, thou most faithful of my subjects, drain every drop of blood which still clogs the free soul.
Miris, Woe's me ! Woe's me I
Cleop, [sinking into her arms, ] Peace ! peace !
Miris. Canst thou leave me thus ?
Cleop, Follow !
Miris. Woe's me !
Cleop, My fetters — Caesar's fetters! Antony! Farewell, Miris! — Farewell 1 {dies,y
In 1 801 there appeared a tragedy, called OcTAyiA^ by August von Kotzebue. In a Preface the auther says that for a long time it seemed to him impossible to harmonise the many contradictions in the character of Qeopatra. At last he came to the conclusion that the cause of the evil, from which her actions sprang, lay in the extremest sensual egoismus. It was fear which led to her first meeting with Antony. She had been sternly commanded to give an account of the help she had bestowed on Cassius. Her sole safety lay in her charms ; she availed herself of them ; her austere judge became her wooer. Antony at this time was at the pinnacle of his power, without his support her throne would topple ; it seemed, therefore, of impor- tance that such a conquest should be retained. Added to this, there was an incli- nation to voluptuousness and debauchery. Fear^ Pawer^ and Licentiousness were, therefore, the only ties which bound this impure soul to the hero. Naturally, as soon as these sources of control weakened, or even threatened to weaken, she must be ready on the instant to sacrifice her lover. Thus she showed it in her flight at Actium; thus, also, in her treacherous dealings with Caesar ; thus finally in the devilish fiction concerning her death, in order to lead Antony to suicide. As an oflbet to the black-
APPENDIX
iir4» of Kcr wcl. shooki tier heroic death he urged, and the tears shed on Antony's cocptfe. it aost be bocae m mind that those tears and that death were only the tttfc^sary ccai«T^iiaKe of Oesar's inexorable will and invincible indiflference to her
c
Fwtt cay tbas icx^s^ <ai &sl it is hardly to be expected that the dramatist i^tfttid aMuil •! frfta:^^ ^rarc. Aad, indeed, in the motley group of the Qeopatxas mc 1«« agk "icDe i&y a tie r"!!.!!!'!! world, Kotzebue's Egyptian Queen is emi- 3eQC « ;te ^« ^scxsTtfiu, 1^ snst se&h, and the least attractive of them all.
v>ctt«*si». wrc^ her xwo children, bn^es the journey to Alexandria, pleads with her W.*ci«r mr i«*oe w:th Antooy, and, after a promise from him of reconciliation, Tcn- sa.^ Ocopatra's very palace and there pleads with Antony ; just as she has aad sbe and Antony with their two children are all mingling tears of joy, enters, gazes for a while, unseen, on the group, comprehends it all, and w^ a dagger at Octavia. Antony seizes her arm in time, and the curtain wifcli Cleopatra casting furious glances at Octavia and struggling in Antonyms |ff)v^-^ while Octavia gazes at her with pride, compassion, and scorn. The curtain Ta«» i^ain on the same Scene. Of course Qe<^)atra has fainted, and of course Izo.'ttv thinks she is dead. But she revives, recalls the past scene, thanks Antony vc ^«^*g prevented her from hurting that noblest of Roman women, whom she 3CW :«copuses and of whom she implores forgiveness. Antony pronounces them ^1^ to be the noblest of women, whose kindred souls nature intended to be united ja wtcrty love. ' Embrace,' he cries, ' hand in hand and breast to breast I let me - :e«dl my eyes on the divine sight.' <Dare I venture?' asks Qeopatra, timidly. ^Vtavia says, aside, * Be still my heart, 'tis for the sake of peace,' and then aloud, • C2«»e hither ; be thy friendly embrace a pledge for the future I ' They embrace, jttii Aatooy folds them both in his arms ! There they both coo for some time while be b<woBS down on them, enraptured. At last Cleopatra begs to be excused in order ^ pfovkie some refreshment for Octavia. At this repast she offers to Octavia a tfietkUy cup, which is dashed from her hand by Ventidius who has, shortly before, lUiimidated the purveyor of the poison into a confession of the plot. Antony drags V t«^>patra aside, and to him she confesses that it was love for him that prompted her ti> the act, and so cajoles him that he dashes from her presence to go and fight a vluel with Caesar. He leaves the unfortunate Octavia and his children in the power v>f (w Ieo(>atra, after having asseverated to the Egyptian queen, with a most solemn vatb, that her life would answer for theirs. After his departure Cleopatra drives vKtavia from the palace with the grossest insults, but retains the children, who are, however, shortly rescued by Eros and restored to their mother. Tp get rid of Antony, whom she now hates, and to prepare the way to subjugate Caesar with her charms, Cleoi'>atra decides on making Antony commit suicide, which she is sure he will do, should he hear that she was dead. Under instructions from her, Charmion tells Antony with befitting outcries and lamentations that Geopatra has drowned herself in the Nile. Antony obligingly fulfills Qeopatra' s anticipations, and, after stabbing himself, expires in the arms of Octavia and of his weeping children. Of Cleopatra's ultimate fate we have no knowledge.
* Antoine et CLioPATRE, Trogedu, Par le Citoyen S. D. M.^ Habitant de Mont- *pellUr. L'ennui naquit un jour de 1* uniformity. — Voltaire. A Paris. An XI. — * 1803.' Dr MoELLER was the first, I believe, to unwrap the anonimity of the author of this version (that it was a kindness may be doubted), by finding, in the copy
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— MORGUES
559
belonging to the Bibliotkique Naiionale, a letter, addressed to the printer of the play, signed < S. D. Morgues/ In his Preface the author tells us that he has long observed that the dramas presented on the stage are not lively enough with song and dance, and that the audience yawns over them. The following tragedy is supposed to correct this defect. To show us how ebullient is his Muse, and how he lisps in numbers and the numbers come, and how competent he is to enliven a tragedy, throughout five of the thirteen pages of his Preface^ he caracoles in verse. The setting of the stage for the First Act and Scene will give some idea of the capacity of Citoyen Mor(;ues to carry out his plan : * The Theatre represents a gallery or hall
* of the palace, decorated with everything magnificent or voluptuous that the imagi- ' nation can conceive. On the side scenes are pictures of the loves of Mars and Venus ' and many mirrors. At the back is a superb throne, enriched with precious stones,
* where Geopatra, as Venus, is seated, with Love as a young child at her side. The
* Ambassadors of neighboring kings, each in his national costume, grandees, ofificers
* of State, stand, according to their rank, on the steps of the throne. The rest of the
* scene is filled with Loves, Graces, the Pleasures, etc.*
Cleopatra is awaiting the arrival of Antony, and this gay scene has been devised to raise his spirits, sadly depressed since the battle of Actium. Nymphs sing of his warlike prowess, he enters, is overwhelmed with the brilliancy of the scene and the ravishing beauty of Cleopatra, and is about to refer to the disgrace of Actium when the queen interrupts, announcing that the whole day is to be given up to delight, and commands the Nymphs, Pleasures, Graces, Loves to bind the hero captive with the chains of Cytherea. Hereupon follow several pages of a ' Song,' composed of such stanzas as the following :
* Our springtime resembles these roses,
Which have but a day of delight, The sun all their beauty discloses, But they die with the advent of night.
So then, while old Time is still flying.
Let us seize all his joys as they pass. And with raptures, each other outvying,
Find delight in each grain in his glass.* — p. 21.
Under the influence of such sparkling and novel strains, what eye can droop, or head incline to yawn ! But quips and cranks and wanton wiles cannot last for ever. Lucilius breaks in and the charm is snapt. From here to the end of the play Plutarch's fine direct prose is converted, or perverted, into dull rhyming couplets. There are, however, some episodes. Afler hearing the false report of Cleopatra's death Antony becomes frantic. The Shades of the victims of his past cruelty appear, especially Cicero, and he apostrophises them with horror. Another notable divergence from Plutarch, for which we must give Citoyen Morgues all credit, is the ingenious excuse whereby Cleopatra eludes the vigilance of Octavius himself, and escapes from his very presence in order to compass her own death and thereby thwart his plans. Her device, which cannot fail to appeal to the female heart, is thus contrived : the incident of Seleucus and the false brief has just closed (but very tamely, in comparison with Jodelle) when Cleopatra exclaims :
* Ye gods ! and have I lost all sense of shame ? Thus dressed, to venture in the gaze of men ?
560
APPENDIX
Woe's me I my fatal sorrows are the cause.
Disgrace has plunged me to the lowest depths.
All things, e'en shame, are dead within my soul I
*Tis too degrading thus to blush 'fore Caesar !
I can no longer bear his steady gaze.
Permit me, Sir, to leave you for a minute.
My garments' plight enforces my retirement
Allow me hence to go to re-arrange them.
I'll presently return, and show myself
More nobly vestured, and, perhaps, more worthy
A queen disgraced, who blushes at her state.' — p. 99.
These are the last words we hear from her. When next we behold her she is a
corpse, magnificently attired, with Iras dead by her side. Charmian is dying, but,
evidently with a soul prophetic of the future dispute over the mode of Qeopatra's death,
refuses to commit herself by telling Octavius how or from what cause her mistress died.
CLfeOP^TKE, Tragidie en cinq AcUs et en Vers^ Par M. ALEXANDRE SOUKET, de V Academie Franfaise, ReprhetUie, pour la premUre fois^ sur le llUlUre Royal de r Odion^ le 2 Juillet 1824, There is a marked contrast between the present trag- edy and its predecessor by Citoyen Morgues ; it could hardly be otherwise, conader* ing that one is by a member of the French Academy and the other by a * habitant de * Montpellier/ Its Dramatis Persona are : CLfeoPATRE, reine d^ Egypie, Antoine. OcTAViE. MARCELLUS,yf/f d^ Antoine et </' Octavit, Octave C&sar. Proculkius, ambassadeur de Rome, £ros, esclave d^ Antoine. PHORBAS, ministre de Clicpdlre, THfiONE, femme de Cliop&tre. We learn from Moeller (p. 83) that other plays by SouMET were highly popular, but that the present one was a decided failure, wfaidi is conceivable if the standard be the attractiveness of the characters. Qeopatra is selfish and treacherous. Octavius, also, is treachery itself ; after professions of fraternal love to Antony and of fidelity to Cleopatra, he confides to Proculeius that both are destined for the Tarpeian Rock. Antony is the least repellent of the three, but even he, as in a majority of these Versions^ is as weak as he is foolish. It cannot be sur- prising, therefore, that in spite of the dignity of the style and the goodness of the construction, the play was a failure.
Cleopatra appears in the First Scene and strikes the chord whidi is to vibrale in the last. In obedience to her commands sundry deadly poisons, an envenomed dag- ger, and the asps stand ready for use on a funeral altar in the interior of a pyramid whither she has betaken herself after the battle of Actium. In a conversation with her attendant. Throne, Qeopatra reveals her treachery and tells of a secret treaty which she has made with Octavius, whom she hopes soon to see at her feet IVo- culeius, the envoy of Octavius, enters and announces to Cleopatra that his master will make her queen of all the East if she will surrender Antony to him. She refuses with scorn to be an assassin and, having always at hand the means of killing hersdf, bids Proculeius tell Caesar that she awaits his arrival at this sepulchre with a dagger in her hand. Proculeius departs. Antony enters, having, to the astonishment of Qeopatra, recovered from the delirium of shame into which the loss of Actium had plunged him. His self-accusations in having been, instead of a victorious emperor, merely Cleopatra's lover, and the laughing stock of the universe, sting Qeopatra into indignant rage and she scornfully asks him why he does not at once go over to the Roman camp :
DRAMATIC VERSIONSrSOUMET 561
' 'Tis not the hour thus to speak to me.
If after all, so dearlj 3rott love Rome,
Whj do jou not, forsooth, at once betake
Yourself to Caesar ? his camp is close at hand.
You'll thus escape the weary bonds which bind you.
Perhaps the Romans are awaiting you ?
Nay and perchance your trembling wife, Octavia,
Will there, among them all, protect you, Sir ;
And lictors improvise a noble escort ;
Desert ! desert ! these fatal halls of death 1
My guards stand ready to conduct your steps.' — p. 13. Antony declines and asserts that even now he intends to conquer Caesar ; he has friends and soldiers enough to protect Alexandria and Cleopatra. This intention of fighting for her softens Qeopatra's heart, and the Act closes with a reconciliation.
The Second Act opens with a conversation between Antony and Eros in which, as in Cleopatra's case, we have an anticipation of tragedy, — ^Antony reminds Eros of his promise to kill him, should he demand it A conference between Antony and Octavius follows in which there are mutual recriminations and a general airing of all complaints. Caesar represents the cause of absolute monarchy, while Antony is the advocate of freedom against tyranny, and each harangues his warriors from his own point of view. Caesar denounces Antony as a rebel and Antony denounces Caesar as a tyrant The conference is broken up by the entrance of Octavia, who utters her sad complaints and adjures Antony to return to the path of virtue and to Rome. But her husband listens coldly, until at last Octavius plays a well -devised stroke by producing the secret treaty made with Octavius by Qeopatnu Hardly has Antony finished reading it, when Cleopatra herself is announced. Antony taxes her with her treachery, but she defends herself as having done everything solely with a view to his protection. She confessed to having made a treaty with Rome, but had broken it when she found it was to be sealed with his blood. Goaded to madness she turns on Octavia with the declaration that for herself she had sacrificed to Antony all her fleet, her treasure, her armies, her estates, and all her subjects, merely to uphold his rights ; while in return, he it was who now devised her impending ruin, and at the
words 'your plottings ^ Antony interrupts and tells her to respect Octavia's
mourning weeds[!], and, proclaiming Octavia to be a model of virtue, asserts that no one shall insult her in his presence ; then commanding his wife to follow him, he goes out with the words, < I blush for myself, but I am proud of Octavia.' Qeopatra, left alone, bewails her fate, but finds comfort, not only in having defeated all hopes of a treaty between Antony and Caesar, but also in the command which she is about to issue to her army to renew the battle. She gives one dark hint : < If some day this ' steel in the blood of Octavia — Therefor I am hoping — .'
The Tliird Act opens while the battle is raging, and Cleopatra, with Throne, is awaiting news of the issue. Brooding over the way in which Antony has left her, she says,
< Perhaps this triumph, which I so desire.
Will prove the worst misfortune of my life.
And Cleopatra, at this fatal moment.
Can breathe no prayer, — not even for her lover.' — ^p. 35. Phorbas enters, describes Antony's victory, and how he had obtained from the priests a precious frontlet which only the queens of Egypt were allowed to wear;
36
562 APPESDIX
riiiihM addsy CiMty accocdxog to rnnoiBv this frngriart vas *!*■«■■— iT for Octxvn. Aflod the trampocts of rage intD which Clenpofza fiiSs oo. h>m"in^ da% sbedmnn out nwrrfMT dflck hint chat if she unut drymd from her thaoae ihe viE Sot buae it in biood. la die neaX Scene Antony rniWfcW to Ejm that the fmnri fT g <ir<inrd far the Egypciaa qneen; he wiQ lepadiate OctSEria and mmtrj Qeopsoa^ amad sesexal fiqoiciiigs and icstxritiei ; he is pfood, he sa^s^ to bear her fofce, and his aolj w^ is to bfxng the hanghtj Boman^ to her feet. Qeopatza. eaters and. gteets Antooir «:ih mmrn} ooogcatidations oa his appmachmg featmrr, to which she sys she has a few other guests, criTiiii wkaesKS whom he does not
•
In GTOwnxng her,' she aaks^ * whom joa so deeply love Win 00 reaaone arise to tcx yoor sool?
Aniamj. I know how Boch this day wiQ being of
CUopmtra. Twul see the flow cf ^ mcie blood than festal day m not yet faished, monger ! Didst Cfaca siippose that my qoieacent hatred Would sofier thee to compass my dishonour ? Thoo'It see diat I can yet a»enge my czdwo. My thzDoe in felfing will o'erwheim thee too.'
Antony is thandentmck and asks what means diis fa^ahtH wiimml*! t ■■MHiij^ and asiKrti that he is far ever sepazated from Octariayand hopes at the alttfof the inunmul gods to marry Cleopatra, the sole object of his idolatry. On ^»*'«' '^*^ these wocds^ a pallor overspreads Cleopatra's features. At Chat instant Evos rushes in with dK news that treachery has opened the gates of Alexandria and diat die Ronaas are even sow at the very doors of the palace. Cleopatra vniifrisrt that, prompted fay bfaKk jealousy, che treachery is hers, and implore^ Antony Co kill her as a puiash- menty and also to save her from Caesar, from Rome, and from hersdC Antony leaves her with the bitter hope chat her Creachery will be soccesaful, and her path to power le-opened when the conqueror greets her, bearing in his hand Antony's head. When alone, Qeopatra bewails, not so much the loss of her crown, as of Antony, and resolTcs chat she will seek the camp of Caesar ; if she once &id lodgement there, it will prove fetal to him ; then, by his death, Antony may regain power.
In the Fomrtk Ad Antony has in vain sought death in battle, and, when Eras enters and announces that Octavia is ajiproachxn^ he commands Eros to kill hinv and just as he is about to obey, Octavia enter; ; she pleads with htm and finally brings forward his son, Morcellas, who does not know diat Antony is his fether, but tells how proud he is of him and of his valour, until at last Antony breaks down, reveals himself to his son, and expresses astonishment at finding the TOtce of natore awaken in his heart ; he obeys the voice, and folds Octavia and MarceOus in his arms. Cleopatra has an interview with Octavius in which she temptingly sets before him the grandeur of a vast empire which he could feund, with Alexandria as a ^•pi**^ Octavius asks if he could possibly 'abandon Rome and its glorious walls?' Qeo> patra replies that * Rome makes heroes, but Egypt makes gods.* Octavius in turn invites Cleopatra to go to Rome with him and there unibld the grandenr of her vast projects. She assents, after saying in an aside, * Tremble, imprudent young man ! ' The Act closes with Octavius' s words to Procnieins, in reference to Oeopatra and Antony, Chat the Tarpetan Rock awaits its two victims.
In die Fifik Act (which takes place within a Pyramid) Qeopatra has discovered
DRAMATIC VERSIONS-^OUMET 563
Octavius's treacheiy, and that he intends to take her as a captive to Rome, where, as she tells Throne, she will be
' Exposed to all the insults of the mob And lictors will exhibit for a penny, The queen of Egypt, as a show, in chains ! ' (Wherein we have a possible reminiscence of Shakespeare.) She expresses her hatred of Octavia, and decides that Phorbas shall lure her hither and contrive her death. Octavia, with Marcellus, enters the Pyramid in search of Antony ; she bids the young boy await her while she explores the passage down which Qeopatra has just disappeared. The lad hears piercing screams; Cleopatra immediately enters with the reeking steel yet in her hand and bids him fly, which he does, shrieking for his father to avenge his mother's murder. A sudden, unexpected, and inexpressible horror seizes Cleopatra, she feels that her hour is come, and thrusts her arm into a vase where lie the asps.
* 'Tis done ! and now can Fate no further harm me 1 To mock Octavius and all his cruelty, I've sent this poison speeding through my veins Come hither, tyrant ! here thou shalt find proof That I need none to teach me how to die.* — ^p. 72. Phorbas enters and tells how Antony has stabbed himself and is even now approaching to behold Cleopatra once more before he breathes his last. Antony enters, Cleopatra tells him that poison already invades her heart Antony doubts. She appeals to her pallor.
* Antony. 'Tis death, — I see 'tis done, — 'tis death, indeed. Thou never yet hast looked so fair to me. Once more I taste of that delirious joy In gazing on those eyes, whose brightness fails ! Let me behold thee, and close pressed in mine Lay thou thy flower-soft hand. — 'Tis icy cold ! The tomb unites us, and we are both alike. 'Tis well with me, since we are one in death.
Cleopatra, Hast pardoned me ! And dost thou know my crime ?
Antony, What sayest thou ?
Cleopatra. Know'st thou my victim's name ?
Know'st thou the vengeful stroke ? My frightful rage
Antony. Octavia
Cleopatra. Precedes us both in death.
Canst thou forgive me ?
Antony. Forgive thee ? monster !
Though death unite us, crime divides us now. Spare me the sight of thee, as death draws nigh,
'Tis shuddering horror to die in thine embrace ! [Difs.
Scene the Last. Enter Octavius, to Cleopatra and Phorbas. Attendants bearing torches. Octatnus. Egyptians, give your Queen up to my power. My car of triumph she must follow soon. Make search for him, my second captive.
Cleopatra {^pointing to Antonys corpse. '\ Look there ! You ne'er before beheld him without fear !
j54 APPENDIX
Octmmu, He's dcsd !
CUopatra, Gtve way to J07 wkfcoot
Octavim. What tenor codd be Anried in oie by Inn ? Does DoC the aniTene belong to me ? He has lobb'd me of the ^ory of his pankn; He wss my capdTe.
CUopatra. Thon cUr'st not beliere iL
Tboa tremblest yet, e'en after conqorring him. A heroes (all has stridden thee with tenor.
0€taviMS. This is too motdi ; 'tis time that crime be OctaTia's tears and blood yoa'll deariy pay for. Lay hold on her ! and load her anns with letters t Your ponishment's a sight I owe to Rocie.
CUopatra. Thoa hast cajoled dion with it ?
Pkorbas. Sir, she dies!
The poison
CUopatra. Yes, thoa tyrant, I elade thee ! Without thine aid I have controlled my fiite. Come, snatch this death from oat my painfid breait. Or crown thy memory with a norel crime And bind to thy triomphal chariot Cleopatra. [Dia:
ClMopatrb was written for Biademoisdie Rachkl by Madame £mili dk GniAitDiN (Delphink Gay), and acted for the first time in 1847.
The play opens before the battle of Actiom (which is onosoal in these VersUm) ; Ventidins, Antony's closest friend, is sent to Qeopatra to call her to aocoont for having given aid and comfort to Bnttos. In Qeopatra's palace Ventidins meets Dio> medes, Qeopatra's secretary, and the two have a long and friendly conference, whidi reveals to each that they have in view the same end, namely, to keep Antony from frdling into the toils of the Egyptian qaeen, 00 the one hand, and Egypt from filling under the dominioD of Qeopatia's lover, on the other. It is, dramatically, a skiHial opening ; opportonity is afforded to Diomedes to unfold Qeopatra's character, and to Ventidius to unfold Antony's. Diomedes describes his queen's invincible chann of manner, which disarms all hate and impels instant forgiveness for all misdeeds ; sbe is always a queen, and always a woman ; in her frail frame is discerned a great soal, and royalty amidst her weakness. Thus she goes frxMn crime to crime,
* Bravant impani6ment et le people et la coor, Ne m6ritant que haine et n'insptrant qu'amoar.*
In the description of her love of luxury and pleasure we find what is peihaps the nearest approach to * custom cannot stale her infinite variety ' where Diomedes says,
' Ce bruit, ce moovement d'nne ^temdle f^te, Tourbillon de plaisir qui jamais ne s'arrftte.'
To this ambitious, unprincipled, luxurious character, Ventidius describes Antoojr's as an exact counterpart. Some plan must be devised, therefore, of oootioQnig Antooj and of converting his love for Qeopatra into jealousy and hate, should it threaten to overmaster him. An instrument to carry out this plan is foond in an Egyptian Stave. This young Slave, as handsome as an Apollo, had frllen wildly in love with Qeo- patra, who, in an hour of ennui, had deigned to look 00 him, and listen to the delixioos protestations of his adoration ; when at last he exdaimed, * Give me detfh.
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— DE GIRARDIN 565
< if you will, for one moment of love ! ' she had bestowed on him a smile of assent. * Poison and tlie Nile/ concludes Diomedes, * will this day end the disgraceful amour.' Just as Ventidius discerns the drift of Diomedes and exclaims, < Marc Antony is 'jealous ... If, rescuing this slave . . . ' the interview is broken off by the approach of some one, and the Scene ends.
In the next Scene Cbarmion appears, bearing a goblet of foaming liquor, a new and deadly poison just received from Thrace, as she explains to Iras, which, as it b now dawn, the young Slave must quaff and * pay with his life for a moment of bliss.' The young Slave enters and joyously demands the goblet which Charmion hands to him ; whereupon, in some impassioned verses, he apostrophises Night, which is about to envelop him, and Death, which be welcomes :
* Je suis pr€t & partir pour les rivages sombres ;
Prends mon sang et ma vie et mon jeune avenir.
Mais permets qu'avec moi j'emporte chez les ombres Le souvenir . . . le souvenir I ' He lifts the cup, drinks, and falls. On the instant Diomedes rushes in, saying to Charmion and Iras that the queen is asking for them, and they depart forthwith. Diomedes is followed by Ventidius and a Leech, who at once takes the young Slave in hand and by the administration of antidotes recalls him to life.
Thus ends the First Act, Although neither Antony nor Cleopatra appear in it, their presence pervades it throughout.
The opening of the Second Act introduces us to Geopatra, reclining on a couch ; before her a High Priest, a Philosopher, a Savant, and an Architect. This reve- lation of the intellectual side of Cleopatra's character is to be found in no other presentation of her with which I am acquainted. She listens to the High Priest as he expounds the Egyptian religion, and she promises to take part in certain cere- monies ; she bids the Philosopher admit to the School, Egiras of Samoa, a young student of ability ; she exhorts the Architect to hasten the building of the temple of Hermonthis ; and asks the Savant how many new volumes have been added to the Library to replace those that were burnt, etc. After the departure of this groups and she is left alone vrith Iras and Charmion, she tells them how weary she is, wait- ing for Antony, whom the oracles have promised she should see to-day. By a subtle and Shakespearian touch, which I am afraid was suggested by Theophile Gautier's Une Nuit de CUopatre^ this weariness is attributed to everything about her, the earth and sky, the people and the climate. < Oh I ' she exclaims, < how slowly pass the weary hours ! And how depressing is this breezeless heat 1
With no cool cloud in skies for ever clear.
No tear of moisture in the unpitying blue I
The skies have never winter, spring, nor fall ;
There's nought to change their dazzling monotone.
And on the desert's verge there hangs the sun,
A huge and blood-red eye for ever open.
This constant brilliance tires my dreaming soul.
Could I but see a single drop of rain
I'd give these pearis, this carcanet, my Iras.
Ah ! life in Egypt is a heavy burthen !
No, this rich land, so justly celebrated.
For me, young queen, is but a realm of death.
They vaunt its palaces, its monuments.
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DRAMATIC VERSIONS^DE GIRARDIN 567
When the conference is at an end, Caesar retires by one door and Octavia is about to retire by another, when Cleopatra rushes forth with the cry that ' her punishment * has been too long and that she is dying.' Iras flies to her assistance ; Octaria, who does not, of course, know who she is, pauses with kindly interest and recom- mends her own Greek physician. Cleopatra gives orders to Diomedes for her im- mediate return to Alexandria, and in a long soliloquy confesses the power which Octavia * possesses in her conscious chastity,' < that grand word which for the first ' time she comprehends, — that grand word, virtue^ which rings so loud.
* This noble dame, oblivions of vengeance, Appeared to me to be indeed sublime.
My better nature could esteem her greatness ;
I loved her bearing of high purity.
I envied her calm front and stern regard ....
O Brutus ! virtue's not an empty name I
'Tis not a lie, a false illusion, — No I
'Tis an authority, a boundless force, —
'Tis the first step where royalty begins I
It is a precious gift, a treasure all divine ! ' — p. 177. All the blame of her past follies she lays on the African sun that sent its own hot fire through her youthful veins. But for this fiery god she would have known love in its purity, and beneath her crown she would have had a loyal and stainless brow, and given to Octavia gaze for gaze.
In the meantime Antony, his love for Cleopatra having revived with full force, breaks loose from Ventidius and discovers Cleopatra, just as she is about to leave Tarentum. Vows of mutual love are renewed and they agree to meet again at Actium.
When the Fourth Act opens, the battle of Actium has been fought, and Antony is the victim of abysmal despair, from which he is, however, aroused by the devotion of his soldiers, led on by an old, scarred veteran named Faustus. Qeopatra approaches, and is at first repelled, but she throws herself on her knees at Antony's feet and, taking upon herself all the blame of the defeat, begs to be forgiven. She then goes on to describe the delirium of excitement in which she entered on the battle. She saw Antony in his dazzling gold armour and heard his voice ; he seemed a being from another sphere, so terrible, so grand was he. She had no thought of fear ; she stood on her vessel's prow with flowing hair, her limbs of brass and her soul of fire ; she quaffed healths to Neptune, to Jupiter, to Mars, and flung the golden goblets in the deep. She heard the shrieks, the whistling of the javelins, and saw the blue waves with blood incarnadined. The scene was too horrible for one of even her regal race, — her reason tottered ; when, of a sudden, a soldier fell wounded on the deck and his blood rushed forth in great gushes. She drew near, — O Gods ! he resembled Antony ! In an instant all was forgotten, pride, glory, history, fame ; one thought dominated all others : to save Antony's life. She gave the signsd to retreat and knew that Antony would obey it :
* £t quand je t'ai reva, quand je t'ai retrottv6,
Je n'ai pas dit : J'ai fui . . . . j'ai dit : Je t'ai sauv6 ! *
Of course Antony forgives her and folds her in his arms, with a reminiscence of
Shakespeare, as he sajrs < L' Empire ne vaut pas une larme de toi.' A new life is
breathed into him and he calls for his armour, but even in that moment he confesses
to Qeopatra that his sole enemy is mistrust, yes, mistrust The faintest suspicion of
-(53 APPEJfDIX
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dap. FdiaoB?
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I
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r reioHi theew AoRmy {To Ceaar m* vfrnerr. J And t
[1-1/ .'ie jffrwmtM jf Cnar .'^ie iroif CIcofBOn -wzxiz mrstif
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— LANDOR 569
Casar, EUe m*a tromp6 ! — ^moite I — Elle et lui ! — je respire 1 A ces deux orgueilleux la tombe — k moi 1' Empire ! ' [Exeunt omnes,
Th^ophile Gautier, in an Introduction to the collected Works of Mad. DB GiRARDiN, referring to the foregoing Version^ declares that < it is the most mascnline
< work that ever a woman's hand created;' and exdaims, 'How magnificent was 'Mademoiselle Rachel in the rOle of Qeopatra! What dangeroua fascination 1 ' What viperine grace I what mortal beauty ! what tmshunnable ascendancy ! ... It
* is indeed to be deeply regretted that the tragedy had to be dropped from the Reper^ ' toire after the premature death of the great tragedienne, who alone could personate *the Egyptian Queen as she had personated Marie Stuart, that other seductress whom
* history condemns and whom poesie pardons.'
Dr William Everett (The Atlantic Monthly ^ February, 1905), thus praises Mad. DE GiRARDiN's tragedy :
' The play is written with great force and beauty of expression, and deserves no
* inferior place among those we are discussing. It could hardly help being superior *to Alfieri's boyish effort, — but it has more dignity than The False One, with less
* appearance of being hurried for the stage ; the scope and field is wider than All for
* Lave, and le grand ComeilU must confess his brilliant countrywoman excels him in ' manliness. . . . The radical defect, to Saxon taste, is the spirit of declamation that ' dominates situation and poetry. Ventidius, Diomedes, the Slave, Antony, Caesar,
* Octavius, Cleopatra, all have to develop their feelings in long tirades — le recit de
* Thiramene, One does not question that Rachel and her coadjutors could have given
< them with immense spirit and feeling ; one feels that the point and wit of the French
* language is here elevated to a dignity worthy of Bossuet and Vergniaud. But in ' Antony and Cleopatra there is not a single speech twenty lines long ; the rhetoric ' which, in Coriolanus, in Julius Casar, in Henry V., in Henry VIII, unless that is ' Fletcher's, throws all Comeille and Racine into the shade, is laid aside for fear it ' should mar the dramatic perfection of the character and incidents.'
Walter Savage Landor has entitled one of his inimitable < Dialogues in Verse,' Antony ^ND Cleopatra ; it consists of Twelve Scenes wherein appear about the same number of Shakespeare's chief characters ; but they are Shakespeare's characters only in name, nor are they the characters of Plutarch. The fire of Shakespeare's Cleo- patra is subdued to a pure, unwavering glow, exquisitely radiant with love for Antony and for her children. Antony's turbulence has vanished ; he is the calm, high- souled, broken-hearted, classic hero. The story of the asps is treated as mere gossip. Qeopatra dies of the poison contained in a ruby ring which Antony gives her (in the Scene here reprinted). Her death is not described ; she sends the empty ring to Antony ; he understands that she has taken the poison and is dead ; he thereupon kills himself. Csesarion is endowed with every charm of a young boy just verging on manhood, and his cruel death, commanded by Octavius, under the stabs of Scopas's dagger, is harrowing ; without being similar, there is about the Scene of his death, an indefinable reminiscence of the Scene between Arthur and Hubert Only those Scenes wherein Qeopatra appears are here reprinted.
* Scene the Second. Soothsayer and Cleopatra. Soothsayer, Our lord Antonius wafU away all doubt Of his success.
570
AFPEXDDC
Capmtr^ WEtatT agsmst sgns aad xoezs ?
Smatkssptr, Even io 1
C£ap^rz. P^rzuca he cniAs mmaeif a> HirmDry
Bgcr.Bii* HI laas pm^enixcr Oi; ttim.
Saatksayer. Ail 1 cuic sweei anile imgst bcai^ Was ftexusie (i> rfie blaz&d vannm if sniics.
C^o^f^s/rx. It Hgmirf is hail' i by men beiaw For men^cfa. and. gnocnw. w^xy not Amunv ? Wbf Boc saecced as loiPttii hsr? wtxy ooc EjE&m^v l&e oivnic nsr tne pnpUK' cnswn. ? ^.
Qiij>(tt^aL Aoiciiv ! is hoc 'IzaB' aow a. ^nd ?
we icmw X. wttraac
ICen waaid. ooc lenme dsen cu smce a bii^w
Ac rhrr r die laws deciare ic acnle^ps.
Amtomy. Joiiusw tf I knew JaihiB^ hnd been nriwr
Fucsc aiumm men "han laac anuin^ tne * jcds. Oeapatra^ Ai least pni: on tiiy heirt a Amtamy. I bsve put on a lamei -nze air
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Of Beieuuie : staa and Gods ate dfe.
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I gicve die cxrciec dxac <!nijfwirj dxcm.
Handmaidens den sk& pazv and vaiess scaich it
Spuiti<ely oi^ and toas it back agpin.
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Wmsw was mine xo cum. fbcdt k:n|rs txnm suF
As vde ind dnrrrTe: he sell plies his CEvie,
Bat oiine^ widi aH my cnstomers^ is gone.
Ever by ok let fnfmir^ be awed,.
?Gane etie : bring imiial me many, oear ok fisw^
Keeput^ aor dioae siaiven knaves ofaacene
Who knd it widi hnmiliry, who pre^
Sfen's ^mlriffw down, gtne dienr cwn hands
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0 wzelch! if qoeens were ever caught m binrii»
1 sikiBld. ac SBcit OBeemly
DRAMATIC VERSIONS-^LANDOR 571
I think I must forgive it. What ! and take
Before I grant ? Again t You violent man I Will you for ever drive me thus away ?
Scene the Third. Antony and Cleopatra.
Antony, What demon urged thy flight ?
Cleop€Ltra, The demon Love.
I am a woman, with a woman's fears, A mother's, and, alas O Antony ! More fears than these.
Antony. Of whom ?
Cleopatra, Ask not of whom
But ask for whom, if thou must ask at all, Nor knowest nor hast known. Yes, I did fear For my own life ... ah I lies it not in thine ? How many perils compast thee around !
Antony, What are the perils that are strange to me ?
Cleopatra, Mine thou couldst not have seen when swiftest oars. Attracted by the throne and canopy. Pounced at me only, numerous as the waves ; Couldst not have seen my maidens throwing down Their fans and posies (piteous to behold !) That they might wring their hands more readily. I was too faint myself to still their cries.
Antony [aside."] I almost thought her blameable
[ To Cleopatra,] The Gods
So will'd it. Thou despondest . . . too aware The day is lost
Cleopatra, The day may have been lost. But other days, and happier ones, will come.
Antony. Never : when those so high once fall, their weight Keeps them for ever down.
Cleopatra, Talk reasonably.
And love me as ... til now ... it should be more, For love and sorrow mingle where they meet,
Antony. It shall be more. Are these last kisses cold ?
Cleopatra, Nor cold are they nor shall they be the last
Antony, Promise me, Cleopatra, one thing more.
Cleopatra, 'Tis promist, and now tell me what it is.
Antony, Rememberest thou this ring ?
Cleopatra. Dost thou remember
The day, my Antony, when it was given ?
Antony, Day happiest in a life of many happy, And all thy gift.
Cleopatra, 'Tis call'd the richest ruby. The heaviest, and the deepest, in the world.
Antony. The richest certainly.
Cleopatra. And not the deepest
And broadest ? Look ! it hides all this large nail.
572
APPENDIX
And mine are long ones if not Tcry wide ; Now let me see if it don't coro- yours As wide again ! there ! it would cover two. Why smile you so ?
Antony, Because I know its story.
CUopatra, Ha 1 then yon have not lost all memory qoite. I told it jovL The king of Pontns sent it When dying to my father, warning him By letter that there was a charm in it Not to be trifled with.
Antony, It shall not be.
Cleopatra. But tell me now the promise I must make ; What has the ring to do with it ?
Antony, All, all.
Know, Cleopatra, this is not one raby.
Cleopatra. The value then is smaller.
Antony, Say not so.
Remark the rim.
Cleopatra, The gold is thin, I see.
Antony. And seest thou it will open ? It contains Another jewel richer than itself.
Cleopatra. Impossible ! my Antony ! for rubies Are richer than all other gems on earth.
Antony. Now, my sweet trifler, for thy promise.
Cleopatra. Speak.
By all the Powers above and all below, I will perform thy bidding, even to death.
Antony. To death it goes ; not until after mine.
Cleopatra. I kiss the precious chann. Methinks an odor Of almond comes from iL How sweet the flower Of death I
Antony. 'Tis painless death, 'tis sudden too.
Cleopatra, Who could wish more, even were there more to wish ? With us there is not
Antony, Generous, pious girl !
Daughter of Ptolemies 1 thou hast not won A lower man than they. Thy name shall rise Above the pyramids, above the stars, Nations yet wild shall that name civilize. And glorious poets shake their theaters. And stagger kings and emperors with applause.
Cleopatra, I was not bom to die ; but I was bom To leave the world with Antony, and wilL
Antony, The greatest of all eastern kings died thus^ The greater than all eastern kings thus died. O glorious foigeman who couldst rivet down Refractory crowds by thousands, and make quake Scepters like reeds ! we want not here thy voice Or thy example. Antony alone
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— LANDOR 573
And queenly pride, tho' Love were domb, would do.
Scene the Fourth. Cleopatra. Charmian. Iras.
Cleopatra, At the first entrance of your lord, before He ordered you, before he spake a word. Why did ye run away ?
Charmian, I was afraid.
Never so in my life ; he lookt so fierce He fear'd his own wild eyes, he placed one hand (His right) across them on lowered brow, his left Waved us away as would a hurricane A palm-tree on the desert.
Cleopatra, [to Iras,'\ And wert thou,
Iras, so terrified ?
Iras, Not I indeed ;
My lady, never man shall frighten me,
Cleopatra, Thou silly creature ! I have seen a mouse Doit
Iras, A mouse is quite another thing.
Charmian. [hesitating.'] Our lord and master . . .
Cleopatra. What of Antony ?
Charmian. Octavius . .
Cleopatra, Who ? Our lord and master he ?
He never shall be mine • . that is to say . .
Charmian, What! lady?
Cleopatra, I forget . . 'twas not worth saying.
Charmian ! where hast thou been this last half-hour ?
Charmian, In my own room.
Cleopatra, So fearful ?
Charmian, Far more sad.
Cleopatra. Where, Iras, thou ?
Iras, I wanted to report
To my sweet lady what I might espy.
Cleopatra, And what have those long narrow eyes espied ?
Iras. All.
Cleopatra. 'Twas done speedily ; but what is all ? Army and fleet from any terrace-roof Are quite discernible, the separate men Nowhere.
Iras. My heart has told me what delight Its queen would feel to hear exactly how The leaders look.
Cleopatra. And how then did they look ?
Tell me ; some might have ridden near enough. The town to judge by, where the sight is sharp.
Iras, Merciful Isis ! ridden I and so close ! Horses are frightful, horses Idck and rear And whinny, full of wickedness; 'twere rash To venture nigh them.
(
S7A
APPENDIX
CUepatra, There are tlmip
Irai. Quieter cxatarcs than those gmcriU
Qiupatfo. lUifariant ! not a word
Aboat them, Ixas^ if thoa k>vcft me; Thej would destroy mj city, sciae 1117 reala. And ram him we live for.
Irms. Sorei J 00 ;
It were a pitj ; none are so onkind ; Caesar the least of alL
Q^prntTA, Ah smple child !
Thoa knowcst not his heart.
Akt. I do indceyj.
CUopatrm. No, nor thy own.
Jrms. His better ; for of miae
I never askt a qoeitioa. He himsHf Told me how good he would be.
Cleopatra, He told /4m/
What! hast thoa seen him?
Irms. Aye, and faot to hat^
Qoae as cor lord's to yoas.
CUaprntTA. O impodence !
Iras. Bat he woald have it so ; jost like our lofd.
Oeopaira, Impsdent gxri ! thoa shalt be whipt for thi&
Iras. I am too old ; bat lotoses don't hmt like other things; they cool the strokes they g;hre.
Clecpatra, I have no patiencr with thee. How I hate That boy Octavios ! Dared be Umch thy cheek ?
Iras. He coald ; he ooly whispeicd in my ear. Holding it by the ring.
Cleopatra. Whispered ? what words ?
Iras. The kindest.
CUopiUra. Ah! no doabC I bat what were they?
Iras. He said. The lordiest creatnre in the world . . .
Qeppatra. The vnlgar brute ! Oar fonymen talk 90 : And coakbt thoa listen, Iras, to soch speech?
Iras. Only when people praise oor gracsoas queen.
Oeapatra. Me ? this of me? Thoa didst thy doty, diild He mi^it hare (aiPd in what he would expresa. The birds have different voices, yet we bear To hear those sing which do not sing the best. Iras ! I never thoaght thee half so wise. And sov he said those gentle words oi mt f
Iras. All, and foigot to ktis me when I vow'd I would report them foithfolly.
CUapatra. Is there
Resemblance in him to that marble image I would have broken, but my Antony Seiz'd both my hands?
DRAMATIC VERSIONS— LANDOR 575
Iras, Alas ! that image wants
The radiant eyes, and hair more radiant still, Such as Apollo's may have been if mjnh. Were sprinkled into its redundant waves.
CUopatra, He must be tenderer than I fancied him If this be true.
Iras, He spoke those very words.
Cleopatra. Iras ! 'tis vain to mind the words of men ; But if he lookt as thou hast said he lookt, I think I may put trust in him.
Iras, And see him ?
Cleopatra, I am not hasty.
Iras. If you could but see him !
Cleopatra, Gdl Charmian : I am weary : I must rest Awhile.
Iras, My sweetest lady ! could not I, Who have been used to it almost a year, Help you as well as Charmian ? While you sleep Could I not go again and bid him haste To comfort you ?
Cleopatra, Is the girl mad ? Call Charmian. [ To Charmian.] Charmian ! hath Iras tickled thee away From moping in thy chamber ? thou hast sped.
Charmian, Iras is growing bold.
Cleopatra, I was bold too
While I was innocent as Iras is.
Charmian, Our lady looks more flurried than deprest
Cleopatra, I am not flurried, I am not deprest [After a pause."] Believest thou in Caesar's generosity?
Charmian, I know it.
Cleopatra, In what matter ?
Charmian. Half the guards
And half the ministers of state have shown Signs of his bounty to the other half.
Cleopatra. Gifts are poor sig^s of bounty. Do not slaves Slip off the gold-black pouches from their necks Untied but to buy other slaves therewith ? Do not tame creatures lure into the trap Their wilder brethren with some filthy bait ? All want companions, and the worst the most. I am much troubled : even hope troubles me.
Charmian, I dare not ask our l&dy why she weeps.
Cleopatra, Csesarion, my first-bom, my dearest one, Is safely shielded by his father's name : He loves his brothers, he may s.nve them both. He only can : I would fain take the advice Of Dolabella, fain would venture him In Caesar's camp : the father's voice and look Must melt him, for his heart is not so hard
576
APPENDIX
' That he could hurt so beaotifiil a child ; Nay, what man's is ?
Ckarwnan. Bat tmst not the two joimger ;
Tkrir £Bther will not hdp them in their need.
Cleopatra. Caesarion in fit hour will plead for thcDL Channian, what ponderest thoa ? what doabtest thon?
CkartmiaM, Caesar I doubt, and Dolabella more ; And what I pondered were yoor words : It wu^ ie That givers are met always henefadars.
Clecpatra. I have one secret, but keep none from ibrr : He lores me !
Charmian. AD do.
Qeepatra. Yes, but some have power.
Ckarmiam. Power, as most power is, gained bj treadieiy.
Otopatra. WhoB^
In Egypt, Europe, Asia, can I tmst?
Ckarmiatt, Few, ncx* those few too ^, nor without watck.
Cleopatra. Not Charmian ?
Ckarmiam. Bid her die ; here ; now ; and p>dge.
Scene the Tenth. Eeos cmd Antony.
Amtamy. Eros ! I speak thee welcome.
Erm, Hail, am- kxd !
Amttmy. Thoo hast been ever fuddiil to thy tnost. And spoken fred j, bat deoovonsly. On what ooooan'd ^k boowhoid and the slate. My glocy is gone down, and life is cold Without tL I haiw known two honest men Among the wnators and oonsnlais . . .
Eros. None among hmnbkr?
Amtemy. By the Powea above !
I thoi^|ht bat of the powei&l, men of bsxth.
En&. All nxn are that. Some sink b^ow dteir cradle, Odters lise higher than parental rooi. And want no scq>ler to suppuit taas steps.
Amtmn: Soch there may be whom we have all past by.
Erai. Men cast long siiadows when their life drrlmrSfc Whk^ we cross over widioat noticing; We met them in the street and gave not wi^. When diKv were gone we lifted op both hands. And said to neighbon Tlexr wtrr wum imdeed!
Amttmi, Kcflectinps snA as thine bad weaned Erewbik, and iram anorher even now; Bat what is due dMn brxngest me wnpti^ Tardy in ofiienn^: i: as worth too Btde?
E*rf&, 1 inng a niby and a boQow zn^ Whereon itnned.
Amtrm. Gods of Rone ! «t last
Ye mi^ me gmefaiL Thanks, snd ^lanks akme.
DRAMATIC VERSIONS^LANDOR 577
' Have I to give, and one small sacrifice ; I TOW it you before this hour is past. My heart may beat against its bars awhile
But shall not leave me yet. Go, Eros, go,
I must lie down and rest, feeble and faint. But come back presently.
Eros, [oftft^ some absence,'\ How fares our lord?
Antony, Recovered, sound again, more sound than ever.
Eros, And yet our lord looks more like other men.
Antony, \smUing,'\ We can not always swagger, always act A character the wise will never learn : When Night goes down, and the young Day resumes His pointed shafts, and chill air breathes around. Then we put on our own habiliments And leave the dusty stage we proudly trod. I have been sitting longer at life's feast Than does me good ; I will arise and go. Philosophy would flatten her thin palm Outspred upon my sleeve ; away with her ! Cuff off, cuff out, that chattering toothless jade ! The brain she puzzles, and she blunts the sword : Even she knows better words than that word live. Cold Cato, colder Brutus, guide not me ; No, nor brave Cassius. Thou hast brought me balm.
Eros, Our lord may have some message for the giver, Which will console her.
Antony, She expected none:
I did ; and it is come. Say, lookt she pale ?
Spake she no word ?
Eros, Alas, most noble sir.
She would not see me. Charmian said her face Was indeed pale, yet grew less pale than usual After she gave the ring, and then she spake Amid some sighs (some spasms too interposed) More cheerfully, and said she fain would sleep.
Antony, The fondest heart, the truest, beats no more. She listened to me, she hath answered me, She wanted no entreaty, she obeyed. She now commands : but no command want I. Queen of my soul ! I follow in thy train,
Thine is the triumph. Eros, up ! rejoice!
Tears, man ! do tears become us at this hour ? I never had too many ; thou hast seen
(If thou didst see) the last of them. My sword!
I will march out becomingly.
Eros, O sir I
Enemies watch all round, and famine waits Within.
Antony, Thou knowest not the prudent sons
37
578 APPENDIX
* Of Egypt ; com and wine have been supplied Enough for many years, piled underground. Tho' stiffened by the sludge of barbarism. Or indolent and overgorged at home, Briton or German would take heed that none Who fought for him should perish for the lack Of sustenance : the timid bird herself Will hover round and round until she bring The grain cried out for in the helpless nest. Give me my sword ! Is the point sharp ?
Eros, In vain
To trust it now !
Antony. Come, bring it ; let me try it.
Eros. O heavens and earth ! Help I help ! no help is nigh, No duty left but one : less worthily
Than willingly this duty I perform. \^Siabs himself.
It pains not : for that blood I see no more.'
Cleopatra^ A Tragedy in one Act, by G. Conrad (a name assumed, according to MOKLLER, by Prince George of Prussia, of whom I know nothing further), appeared in 1868. It is in three Scenes; the first two are skilfully devised to introduce the third and most important. In the first a dialogue between Iras and Charmion, who bears a covered basket of flowers wherein lie the asps, sets forth the resolution of the queen to die, and gives occasion to describe the past glories of the voyage on the Cydnus, their brilliant feasts, Antony's death, and Cleopatra's bearing toward Augustus. In the second we have an ardent love-scene beween the queen and Dola- bella, wherein the latter is the impassioned lover. As a proof of his devotion, he divulges the secret that Augustus is resolved to lead the queen in triumph in Rome, for which Dolabella hates him and implores Cleopatra to fly with himself to some paradise, where, amid perfume and flowers, raptures and delight, intoxicated with transports, they can lose and forget the world. The queen promises to give him an answer before the night is over, and calls him her * beloved one' as, at the approach of Augustus, she bids him a hurried farewell. In the third Scene Augustus enters, cold, distant, and haughty. In the dialogue which follows we find that Augustus represents patriotism, the prosaic, sterner virtues, and simplicity, not unalloyed with severity and over- weening ambition ; Cleopatra represents the poesy of life, the joy- ousness of art, of love, of sensuous delights, the artist's vision and the poet's dream. The Egyptian queen invites her Roman conqueror to enter this world of happiness which all are struggling to attain. The Spartan virtues are no longer practised ; renunciation and submission are a weariness. But Augustus turns a deaf ear to all her allurements and asserts that 'undeterred he will pursue his aims.' Thereupon Cleopatra replies :
* But trust in me, and thou shalt still be happy.
Before thee shall unfold an unknown life,
So full, so fair, like nothing else on earth.
Where every pain, and every care is hushed ;
The might of beauty, and the glow of passion.
The fairest bloom of shape, and all the joy.
To thee unknown, of sweet and magic hours,
DRAMATIC VERSIONS—CONRAD 579
* All these await thee ; and ecstatic joy Will waft its glowing flames about thy heart.
0 haughty yictor ! thou art mine ! Thou canst
Not now withstand me ! [Ske turns toward Aim, as vntk thi
Augustus. Dare I, Cle6patra, put trust in thee ? keenest rapture,
Cleopatra, And dost thou doubt me still ? What shall I do
To put far from thee all suspicion ?
Dost thou desire my crown ? I will exchange it
For my victor's love. Speak ! Dost trust me now ?
Must I e'en follow thee to Rome? I*m ready.
Thou dost not shake thy head. Dare I then hope ? . . .
That I did hate thee once, I'll not deny.
Nay, I have even wished thy death. But now
'Tis far, far different ; it is thy mien
That now has vanquished me.
Augustus. Art thou so fickle, queen ? How else can I
Explain this wondrous transformation ?
Cleopatra, Oh, take me with thee ! I am wholly thine !
1 know, — I feel that numbered are my hours ; Too keen have been my sufferings of late ! My life has been a never-ending fray.
Oh, take me with thee, that my dying eyes
May rest on thine ; in gold and purple sheen
My sun will set, if I'm beloved by thee ! . . . [She turns to him, as though
[Aside,'\ He stands unmoved I Disgrace inefiable ! inspired,
Augustus. Let's change the subject. The royal treasure Appears, together with the Real Estate, To be important. — How large the revenue ?
Cleopatra, [with scorn."] Take what thou wilt. — My sorcery is o'er.
This grovelling nature is to me abhorrent.
What knows the blind man of the light of heaven ? . . .
Thou praisest virtue but thou show'st it never.
Thou speak'st of Rome, but seekest thine own glory.
From thee will spring the abhorrent riile of lies !
The triumph of vainglorious deceit ! [She turns angrily mtoay,
« « « «
Dost thou believe the thought can e'er aflfiright me
Of following thee to Rome ? Does there not glow.
E'en now in Roman breasts, the hope
Of seeing me, their foe, in thy triumphal train ?
Then take me with thee ! Do but make the trial !
I will outshine the conqueror himself.
And every Roman cheer will be for me.
Augustus. I am thy lord. To me is Rome devoted.
Cleopatra. Destruction on thee and on all like thee ! Destruction light on all such grovelling souls ! To rulers, such as thou, the god who guides The destinies of man can ne'er prove gracious. 'Tis falseness that is gnawing at thy greatness,
~X SI Sk s. ssxkes: x: tie roe if 3m: mwimlr ««s: inn. tirni j&i
JUTTtDl. MiV^ JKOSLUSt.
u jHr ts£' amr araa:- xizn^mm- o TTitMutrc '-. JCC7IX3
xr ti*^ Will, acEBPaKSL-
jAr o fir jKk*' '
DRAMATIC VERSIONS^DINGELSTEDT 581
* Away, thou yenom'd boa-constrictor ! \^IC5nig55chlange\
I'll tear me free from thine embracing coils
Before thou sting'st me ! Away ! Away, I say ! [He dashes out. Eros fol- lows, Cleopatra collapses. But after a pause, she arises^ and with a demoniac expression of face, gazes scornfully after Antony, thereby dis- closing the growth in her mind of her resolve to desert him,* When, in the next Scene, Antony orders Thyreus to be taken away and whipped, * Cleopatra wrings her hands,* and when Antony continues to storm against her, she
interrupts with, * This, to me ! darest thou * * Forsooth, this is enough ! * as
she utters this latter exclamation she advances passionately toward Antony.* Alexas, Charmian, and Iras interpose with ' O Queen 1 *
' Cleop, Back ! and dare not to interpose yourselves
Betwixt that man and me ! [ Then in crushing
tones to Ant.'] And who, pray, then art thou ?
That art so high and mighty, — and to me ! —
That dar*st reproach me with disgrace and shame ! —
Thou, sunk and lost in deep dishonour ! [Ant, collapses on a couch.
I am a queen ! But thou art less than nothing !
AMiere now, Triumvir, bides thy host, thy fleet ?
Where, pattern of a husband, is thy wife ?
Speak!
Did'st thou not break thy vows, deep-sworn to me.
And, with dishonour, bind thyself afresh
Before from old bonds thou had'st yet been freed ?
And now, — or do I dream it? — thou would* st leave
Me here deserted, for another's arms,
Betrayed, behind my back, for vile advantage ?
What ! Thou a man, and let*st the stripling Csesai
With help of that gross hypocrite, his sister,
Enmesh thee with his stupid clumsy snares,
Which artfully he throws about thy horns.
What ! Thou a hero, and, at battle's height,
With victory at hand, thou runn'st away,
Deserting armies, fortune, and thyself,
Because a woman left thee I A Ruler !
Thou ! thou, who canst not even rule thy heart I
Thou wretched Roman, learn thou here from me,
A queen from out the thousand-year-old race
Of Ptolemies, — of Egypt's sacred soil
A worthy daughter, — learn how death is wooed
When one can live no longer without honour! [Exit grandly and with a
Ant, [beside himself] Cleopatra ! — After her ! — But no, — commanding air.
Too late ! We'll ne'er again be as we were.
And she is right : there's nought remains but— death.' — ^p. X07. Eros here enters with Thyreus. Antony sends by the latter his persona] chal- lenge to Qesar.
It is not worth while to follow the rest of the version, step by step or Scene by Scene. Caesar in his camp before Alexandria tells Maecenas that on the morrow the city shall be stormed, if need be ; then smilingly adds, < And yet I hardly think it.
582
APPENDIX
* It is not battering nuns, but tender fingers
That will throw open wide the gates for as. \AU regard kimenqmrimgiy.
My messenger, whom Antony had whipped.
Has cruelly revenged himself. He stole
The sole thing Antony had left — Cledpatra.
She sent as, by Thyreus, full submission
And made an offer of a firm alliance.
For which she asks no further for herself.
Or even for her sons, but Egypt's crown. \AU are astonished.
Well, well, that will come round, of coarse. Meanwhile
No aid to Antony will she supply ;
Nay and perchance she'll give him up to us.
Although we arm, there will not be a battle.
I hope Anton i us will be taken prisoner.
He*ll prove attractive in our Rcxnan triumph.
His exhibition do I owe my city.' — p. Ii6. The Scene changes to Cleopatra's palace. Alezas telb Cleopatzm that Antony is Inrioas against her, and for safety conveys her to the royal Pyramids. Antony eniers ; be has been ransacking the palace to find Qecpatra and wreak his reogeance on her, — * he is in full armour and beside himself,' and calls :
* Where art thou now, Qe6patra ? Tboo Fury Of Hades, where dost keep thyself bestowed ? Triple-turned wanton, I am seeking thee.
To be revenged on thee, — to panish thee ! On thee alone I now am waging war, — A war for life or death ! Thy blood, thy warm. Sweet, treacheroas blood, this do I long to quaff! ' — p. 129^ There is not an alarming amount of perversion in Eros*s suicide, nor in Antony's attempt to imitate him. As Antony lies in a swoon, Qeopatra rushes in, and with *■ a piercing shriek,* exclaims, * Antonios — dead ? ' Her outcry arooses Antony, who raises himself, and addresses her,
' Is 't tboo, Qe6patra? Hast thou from Orcus, Returned to fetch thy dilatory friend ?
Cleitp. No. Fm not dead, and neither shalt thou die ! rU wake thee back to life, e'en with my kissing.
Ant, \lookit^ vaguely abamt^ notices AUxas7\ *Twas he who said just now,
thoa'dst killed thvself ? Cleop, He Ued.
Ant, Even here in death, more lies, — lies, — lies ! \^He turns kstmselffr^m Gecp. Oh, would that I had followed him ! I tbo«^ht ker at disgmt. That I could thus best win my friend again !
Ant. And therefore die ! B^iold — I do not lie,
My death is reaL My sight begins to swim,
Wliere art thou, Qeopatra ?
Cletff. Here to Ixg
Forgiveness on my knees.
Ant. Thou art forgiven . . . .Mready modi in life I have fiorgiveo thee. And now . . . in death evenrtiunc!'
A CTORS-^KNIGNT. DA VIES 5 83
Hereupon follows a weak version of Antonyms last speech, with omissions and insignificant additions. The Scene of the Fifth Act lies inside a pjrramid, with mummies in niches in the walls. Antony's body lies on a catafalque in the middle. Maecenas falls desp>erately in love with Cleopatra ; she repels him, but appeals to him to discover Caesar's intentions with regard to her future. She learns that she is to be led in triumph at Rome. All the chief features of her death Scene are pre- served, as in Shakespeare.
ACTORS
The present play of Anthony and Cleopatra is barren, indeed, of adequate records of the few actors and actresses who have performed it. The dates of the revivals may be found in Genest. Comments on the revivals themselves are, in the Intro- duction to the play in Irving' s Edition^ set forth as follows :
Joseph Knight (ed. Irving, Introduction, p. 115): Between 1704 and 1706, according to Downes, four plays, to be acted by the players of both companies — Drury Lane and Lincoln's Inn Fields — were commanded at Court First among these was All for Love, in which Betterton appeared as Antony, Verbruggen as Ven- tidius, Wilks as Dolabella, Booth as Alexas, Mrs Barry as Cleopatra, and Mrs Brace- girdle as Octavia. Concerning these representations Downes says, with every prob- ability of truth in his favour, * These four plays were well acted and gave great satis*
* faction.' On 3rd December, 17 18, at Drury Lane, when the management of Cib- ber, Wilks, and Booth was at the height of its good fortune, an important revival took place. In this Barton Booth was Antony ; Mills, Ventidius ; Wilks, Dolabella ; Cibber, Alexas; Mrs Oldfield, Cleopatra; and Mrs Porter, Octavia. Concerning this revival Col ley Cibber says, * The habits of that tragedy amounted to an expense of
* near six hundred pounds ; a sum unheard of for many years before, on the like •occasion' (Apology/ii, 175, 176, ed. 1889).
[Of this same revival we also find the following :
Thomas Davies (ii, 370) : In Dryden's All for Love, Booth's dignified action and forcible elocution, in the part of Antony, attracted the public to that heavy, though, in many parts, well written play, six nights successively, without the assist- ance of pantomime, or farce, which, at that time, was esteemed something extraor- dinary. But, indeed, he was well supported by an Oldfield, in his Cleopatra, who, to a most harmonious, powerful voice and fine person, added grace and elegance of gesture. When Booth and Oldfield met in the Second Act, their dignity of deport- ment commanded the applause and approbation of the most judicious critics. When Antony said to Cleopatra, < You promised me your silence, and you break it Ere I
* have scarce begun,' — this check was so well understood by Oldfield, and answered with such propriety of behaviour, that, in Shakespeare's phrase, her < bendings were •adornings.' The elder Mills acted Ventidius with the true spirit of a rough and generous old soldier. To render the play as acceptable to the public as possible, Wilkes took the trifling part of Dolabella, nor did Colley Cibber disdain to appear in Alexas ; these parts would scarcely be accepted now by third-rate actors. Still to add more weight to the performance, Octavia was a short character of a Scene or two, in which Mrs Porter drew not only respect, but the more affecting approbation of tears, from the audience. Since that time, All for Love has gradually sunk into forgetful ness.] Knight continues :
While Antony and Cleopatra slept for another seventy years Dryden's play was
jg^ APPESDIX
leriTed at Drary Lane, 22Dd Mar., 1766, with Powdl as Anftoiij and Mn Yates
again as Qeopatim ; and once more at the same boose, still mocler Gavrick's manage-
ment, 17th Dec, 1772, wiih Spranger Barry as Antooj, Mn Barry as OctaTia, and
Miss Younge, for the first time, as Cleopatra. On the 28th of the IbUowing March,
at Covent Garden, Mrs Haztley, whose first season it was» made ber first appearance
as Qeopatra to the Antony of Smith and the Doiabdla of Wroaghtoo. With Miss
Yoonge and Smith in the principal paru AU for Laoe was f^jed at Dmry Lane on
1 2th May, 1 775, and 13th March, 1776. With Smith as Antooy, and Miss Yates from
Dmry Lane as Cleopatra, with West Diggcs as Ventidins, and Farren as Dolabella,
it was given at CoTcnt Garden 8lh Jan., and 5th Frf>., 1779.
In Drydcn*s AU for Love^ and not in Shakespeare's Antomy and CUopatrA, Mis Siddons essayed, at Drury Lane, 5lh May, 1788, the rharartrr of Oeopatia, KemUe being the Antony; Palmer, Ventidius ; Barrymore, Dolabdla ; and Mrs Ward, Octavia. That the peiformance by Mrs Siddons of a character so suited to her powers was fine may be assumed. Not being in Shakespeare, however, it calls for no further comment than the sUtemcnt that Boaden {Life of Sidd^ms, ii, 243) says that she showed * the daring atiocity of crime,' and adds, with sab-add banter, that •the notion of frailty was visually banished.' Campbell {Life of Siddons^ "t '^) suggests that OcUvia would under certain conditions have been a better part for the actress than Cleopatra ; and says that * she never esublished «* the Siren of the Nile "
* among her popular characters.' On 24th May, 1790, at Covent Garden, Miss Bnm- ton played Cleopatra to the Antony of Holman; and on 12th Jan., 18 1 8, at Bath, Conway, the unfortunate actor, treated with so much perverse oruelty by Hazlitt and Theodore Hook, was the Antony to the Qeopatra of Miss Somerville, afterwards Mrs Bunn. . . .
In November, 1833, Macready produced at Covent Garden an acting version of Antony and CUopatra, The great feature of the revival was the scenery by Clark- son Stanfield. [According to Macready' s own diary the revival was not eminently successful.] . . .
Antony and Cleopatra was naturally included in the series of revivals of Shake- speare undertaken by the Phelps and Greenwood management at Sadler's Wells. It was first played 22nd October, 1850, with Phelps as Antony, G. K. Dickinson as Octavius, Henry Marston as Sextus Pompeius, George Kenrick as Enobarbus, and Miss Glyn as Cleopatra. This was one of the most successful of the Sadler's Wells revivals, and elicited much approval. Miss Glyn's performance of Qeopatra was the crowning triumph of her career. In personal appearance she conformed to the requirements of Talfourd, namely, ' a figure of voluptuous majesty, a mingling of
* dazzling beauty and intellectual command.' In her death scene she was pro- nounced equal to Pasta.
C. E. Pascok {Dramatic List, London, 1880, p. X58) : In portraying the enchantress, Cleopatra^ Miss Glyn had occasion to draw upon the entire resources of her art. The variety and fascination of the character she touched to admiration. The caprice, the grace, the pride of the character were exhibited with a power which exceeded expectation. It was evident that she had made a profound and industrious study of the part. The whole portrait was thrown out with decision and force, and richly coloured. Those parts in which dignity and anger were expressed — such as the interview with the messenger after Antony's second marriage — were given with a vehemence and power corresponding to the language she had to deliver. But it
CA PELLS VERSION 585
was in the Fifth Act^ when preparing for her death, that the better phases of the character and the more reBned parts of the action tested the fitness of the actress for this assumption. Indignant majesty, compulsory resignation, heroic resolve, and tender memory, were all adequately pronounced. The death itself was a triumph. — Atherutum^ 27 October, 1849.
Ibid. (p. x6o) : After some years* absence from the stage, in May, 1867 [Miss Glyn] reappeared at the Princess's Theatre, as Cleopatra^ and according to TTie Athetueum (May 18, 1867), ' the triumph of the evening was the assumption by Miss < Glyn of Cleopatra. The witchery of the blandishments, the Asiatic undulations of
* the form, the variety of the enchantments, the changes of mood, the impetuous pas-
* sion, and in the end the noble resignation — all these points were brought out with
* an accuracy of elocution and with a force of genius which left no doubt on the mind
* that Miss Glyn is as great an actress as ever adorned the English stage.*
Anon. {Athenaum, 27 Sept., 1873) : A man need scarcely be a veteran stage- goer to recollect when Miss Glyn, at Sadler's Wells, gave an embodiment of Cleo- patra, which came as near a realisation of the < serpent of old Nile ' as anything modem art can afford. This impersonation was repeated at the Standard first, and subsequently at the Princess's, with no alteration of Shakespeare's text [On the revival referred to in this notice, Joseph Knight {Introd, op, at,, p. 119) has the following remarks] : Mr James Anderson appeared as Antony, and Miss Wallis, then almost a debutante, as Cleopatra. The piece had been arranged with a view to spectacular effect, and with no very reverend hand, by Andrew Halliday, and the general cast was far from strong. Mr Anderson's performance of Antony was pic- turesque and vigorous, but old-fashioned ; Miss Wallis' s qualifications for Cleopatra did not extend beyond good looks and some elocutionary ability, and the production was one of those experiments on the strength of which Chatterton, by whom it was tried, put forward the famous managerial dictum that * Shakespeare spelt ruin.'
[For the latest revival, by Mr Tree, see p. 591.]
CAPELL'S VERSION
The Version which Edward Capell made for Garrick has the following title : « Antony and Cleopatra | an historical Play, \ written by \ Wiluam Shake-
* spear E: \ fitted for the Stage by abridging only; \ and noiu acted, at the | Theatre-
* Royal in jynxrj'Lane, \ by his Majesty s Servants, \ No grave upon the earth shall
* clip in it A pair so famous, p. 99. | London : | Printed for J. and R. ToNSON in ' the Strand, | MDCCLVIII.' On the next page is the following :
To the right honourable, and worthy of all Titles, the Countess of * * Why, from the throne where beauty sits SUPREME
and countless emanations deals below, infus'd and fixM in Woman's shining frame, doth so large portion of his wonder flow ? why, but to rule the tread of human woe, and point our erring feet where joys abide : But (ah, the pity !) to a traitor flame, weak, wavering, wild, the heav'n-bom ray is ty'd, and man, confiding man, firom bliss estranged wide.
586
APPENDIX
Daughters of Britain, scorn the garish 6re, exile the meteor to it's Pharian grave ;
sincere r flames from Virtue's heights aspire,
that brighten beauty, and from sorrow save : High o'er the rest, see, what fair hand doth i^rave
a deathless torch; and calls you to the shrine,
where only beauty only bliss entire !
follow the branch of much-lov'd * **s line, and from those altars mend, with her, the ray divine.
Oct 3d 1757.
In the Textual Notes on the preceding pages, the various readings of this Versiam, where they decidedly differ from Capell's own text, are duly recorded. To avoid confusion I have designated this Version as Garrick's, abbreviated 'Gar.* It has received the following notices:
T. Davies (ii, 369) : Antony and Cleopatra had long lain dormant, I beliere ever since it was first exhibited, when, about the year 1760, Mr Garrick, from his passion- ate desire to give the public as much of their admired poet as possible, revived it, as altered by Mr Capell, with all the advantages of new scenes, habits, and other deco- rations proper to the play. However, it did not answer his own and the public expectation. It must be confessed, that, in Antony, he wanted one necessary accom- plishment : his person was not sufficiently important and commanding to represent the part. There is more dignity of action than variety of passion in the character, though it is not deficient in the latter. The actor, who is obliged continually to traverse the stage, should from person attract respect, as well as from the power of speech. Mrs Yates was then a young actress, and had not manifested such pxoofis of genius, and such admirable elocution, as she has since displayed : but her fine figure and pleasing manner of speaking were well adapted to the enchanting Cleo- patra. Mossop wanted the essential part of Enobarbus, humour.
J. Genkst (Vol. iv, p. 544, D.L., 1 758-1 759) : Shakspeare's play, acted six times, was adapted to the stage by abridging and transposing only, — Capell's alter- ation is judicious on the whole, but might have been better, — for the convenience of representation it was right to reduce the number of characters, but this is done with- out any regard to propriety — the speech with which Philo opens the play, and the famous description of Cleopatra on the Cydnus (taken from Enobarbus) are given to Thyreiis — if a change were to be made it should certainly have been made in favour of some Roman of consequence on Antony's side, not in favour of ThyreQs, who was Caesar's freedman, and who had never seen Cleopatra till he was sent with a message to her, as in the Third Act of the play, — what the Soldier and Scams say in the Third and Fourth Acts is absurdly given to Diomedes, who was only Secretary to Cleopatra and could have nothing to do with military concerns — in the Second Act Antony says — * If we compose well here, to Parthia ; " Hark you Ventidius.*' * Capell ha> changed the name to Canidius, which was wrong, as Ventidius was the person really sent to oppose the Parthians. Garrick revived this play with all the advantages of new scenes, habits, and decorations, but it did not answer his expectation — his own person was not sufficiently imix)rtant for Antony ; and Mrs Yates had not perhaps at this time displayed abilities equal to the representation of Shakspeare's best female character, Lady Macbeth excepted.
VERSION ATTRIBUTED TO KEMBLE 587
J. Knight {Irving Ed. Introd,^ p. 117) : It is melancholy to find, though the fault appears to have been principally attributable to the actors, that this long-deferred production of [Capell's Version] was not a success. After half a dozen repetitions the piece was withdrawn. Why Garrick should not have been a good Antony is not easily seen. He was not, however. Mrs Yates, meanwhile, though popular as Lady Macbeth, won little recognition in other important female characters of Shake- speare, and made no impression as Cleopatra. Few of Garrick' s revivals attracted less attention. Davies and Murphy in their biographies leave it unmentioned. Dr Doran, without advancing any authority, speaks of it as the great event of its season, and says, with what almost sounds like disingenuousness, but is only carelessness, that Garrick and Mrs Yates gained * even more laurels as Zamti and Mandane in the ' Orphan of China ' than in Antony and Cleopatra, in which they gained none at all. Mr Percy Fitzgerald confesses it a failure.
VERSION ATTRIBUTED TO KEMBLE
In 1 81 3 there appeared Shakspeare's Tragedy of Kstohy aiu/ Cleopatra ; with alierationsy and with additions from Dryden \a5 now performed at theTHEATKE.' Royal, Covent-Garden. Mr Abbot appeared as Octavius; Mr Young as Antony ; Mr Barrymore as Lepidus ; Mr Egerton as Enobarbus ; Mrs Faucit as Cleopatra ; Miss Cooke and Mrs Watts as Charmion and Iras; Mrs M* Gibbon as Octavia. The object of the Compiler of this Version (who is said to have been Kemble, but with- out sufficient foundation) is set forth in an ' Advertisement,' prefixed to the Text ; very briefly stated, this object appears to have been to weld into one play the beauties of Shakespeare's Anthony and Cleopatra and of Dryden's Ail for Love, after having eliminated from the former the features which tend to render it unacceptable to the public, and from the latter those weaknesses that have caused it to decline in popu- larity, or, in short, as the author expresses it, *■ an amalgamation of wonderful poetical * powers.' The various readings, transpositions, and additions have not been recorded in the Textual Notes on the preceding pages of this volume; within a space so restricted it would have been impossible to render them intelligible. In place thereof a description of this ' amalgamation ' is here given which will convey an idea of the Version, as a whole, far more clearly than can be conveyed by any Textual Notes. This description is by Genest. (I happen to have Genest's own copy and almost every page bears witness to the fidelity with which he performed his task. ) It is found in his vol. viii, p. 417, et seq, as follows :
* First Act does not differ materially from the original [1. e. Shakespeare's] — Modena and Charmion are properly changed to Mutina and Charmi(?n — but Vizxk Antony should have been altered to Marr Antony, as in the bill — the letter kxxiK Roman name is an unpardonable solecism. Second Act, begins with Shakespeare's Second Scene, but the conclusion of it, in which Enobarbus describes Cleopatra on the Cydnus, is most injudiciously omitted — Capell has transposed it — then follows Shakespeare's Fifth Scene with Cleopatra and her attendants — next comes an unim- portant Scene between Antony and Octavia at Athens — this is from Shakespeare's Third Act — Cleopatra, etc., are discovered at Alexandria — the first part of this Scene is chiefly from Shakespeare, but when Antony enters, the remainder of the Act is from Dr>'den — Dryden's Scene is a very good one, but it is not introduced in this place with propriety — in Dryden's play, Ventidius in the First Act estranges Antony from Cleopatra, after which, naturally follows the Scene in which Antony reproaches her — but the Editor of the present play reverses the order of things, and makes Dryden's
5 S3 APPEND IX
Secmd Scene precede hzs Fast — in Drrdea's pl:^ tae Scrrir Ees i&e
CGt in tiiss alcexatBOO Aiscoot b represeBOed as frjmn^^ back, aa ^^^S??' >i J tt> teH QccpotEa liiac they most put — ^wiiick xs act goxt < iwfTif » a: die absord in tssei^ — dtere was nofhrng 5ke x <^miiel between AsCcbj and. vztxl aner ciie hatrle ct Actnan. TTurd Ajt begins wixh die Seen Srmr of ShaVff- speate^s Third A^ — thea £allcvs ciie lx»^r:trfi Scene — c&e bame cf V-rinm 3k=s p£ace in die »gat of che anrrirrye — and the Ace is csndaded fbont Sfaikespeate w*o. sup:t alrrranrttSw F^mrtk A>:t is nearij die wbcie at it firaat Drvdea;— die OMrr.nrirai Scene between Antocy and Venczdins is intrtxinced with. profseCF — due m wfncj. Vcntkiiiis leads on Octxviay might have been scazed — and me one acai De^dex^ wbicb is Dnproperiy inserted in cize Stcjnu A^ ai^bt bare bem sobsctiSiel Sir x — OcCBvia's coming fia AmiznT in E^^jpt is a pceccai iktion on the part ^jf Drydfix. and tbe '^^"^ z^elf is act eaaal in oaxt to the '^^*«*'^ at SoakesDeace. ■»it^ ^ aie ^^■ft- <mt to make idooi dot it — Drydm's deschpdcn of Ceopatza. on die Cwtnas is «ain'iTr: Ft/iA Ait is axac^ op txxasL Sbokespcare and Drydcn — Venttifias kills hmwHf as n Dtyden — when AnDonj has tatim on his swctd» the piay is oancinded &saB 2
and his party enter— aser wnich, the seme cnanges id t&e mfEBor at tbe mooumeut — Axocny, Qeopatza, etc are (Uacavezed — Anonxy ifin anrf c&e A*:r pnxeeds as in Sbakespcaie^ but with great ^ '""***■■»* — CeapaiEx's sprrHir^ ace saAy nntiiaced— ^he piar concludes with, two duct testes, antttv aoB. •*?■ ■* fc * ** m mi ■■ ii»i a gcand fim^^^t pRjcesBoo.
^ This altezation is attxibnted to g^'wiKI^ — bnt hia naone does act appear hi r&e tziie- page — Capdrs aitrrafinn is the better of the two— the "■»'fa'" editac amos too amen of Shakespeare — y^ it most be aOowed^ chat no pcsson has ^It^wi speaze's plars atateriuHy^ and has ^ct socceedel so well — die has adected the best pacts of Dcyden's best Tagedy^ riwlrad of with, stuff of hzs own investtzon,. as Darenanc Tatev C^bet; dc
"This revival of Antony and CLeopatza (fid oat meet wit& the snccess it it cnigftt Qot bnwever Qa have been bmught flawatd ipuhuut a lizst stti Cleopatza — ^Mzs Stddons wonld hare made a ^^knimis pact c£ Qeopatza. (i the part not to have beat mnnlated) and peihaus have oaed the pinp in the of the pnhlic — she had been more than once or twice <ntWnti»r{ by g"'«-wM«* m act Shakespeaxe's Qeopaoa^ bnt she conrinnatly drrlinni izr a. very <»»^^*^
amd die should hate heirseify if she should pioy the pact as it ought to be piayeL'
Gemst mentzons ' x grand funrrai [iiiiii ihiiin * with whicii the play *■*—***», bnt be does not reter to an * Epicsdiinn * which was suo^ at Che sme tznae. It begins wztit a Charmi whicit wzll» I thinks xmpiy serve as a. <^»rM«ii^i :
* Coki in deatii the Hero firs ; Noveiesik oow^ die Victor's Quench'd the light' ning oi his
Tbe Foe to dannt^ the Fair to .*^fm»
!Kaurzi» soioicxs^ monxn ! your day is done % Valour has lest its cheezzng sun ; The Roman Olozy sets •» Egypt's And great Matk Antony wdl
In the Textmmi Sates cm the jieuallng psges at this ^lmjjI volume rfieie fM^i'tn^ not increquotdy, the name '^ Krmhtf ' Let it not be juiiuuaRd dxat
KEMBLE'S VERSION 589
hereby made to this Version of 1813, just described by Genest It refers to a MS Stagt'Copy of this play, with Stage -directions in the handwriting of J. P. Kemble. This copy has been kindly lent to me by my highly valued friend, H. C. Folger, jr., of Brooklyn, New York, who bought it at the sale of the library of Lawrence Doyle, of Dublin, at Sotheby's, December, 1898, in whose catalogue it was described as
* J. P. Kemble' s copy with MS notes, stage-directions, etc., in his autograph. Note ' on fly-leaf, " G. Lamb, bought at Kemble*8 sale, 1821." ' The notes, stage-direc- tions, etc., are unquestionably in Kemble* s autograph, which is familiar to me.
The principle which seems to have rigidly guided Kemble in constructing this Version is omission ; there are not many transpositions, and no additions of moment. How extensive is this omission may be seen at once from the Dramatis Persona^ from whom, as given in Steevens*s edition of 1793 iS^'^ edition which Kemble would have probably used), Kemble has omitted Pompey, Ventidius, Scams, Dercetas, Demetrius, Philo, Dolabella, Proculeius, Menas, Menecrates, Taurus, Canidius, Euphronius, Mardian, and Diomedes ; in all fifteen characters; in reality fourteen. Kemble has a new character, Titius by name, a friend of Antony, and highly accom- modating in filling odd gaps. Hereby the thirty-four characters in Steevens*s edition are reduced to twenty in Kemble's Version, It is evident, at once, that, by this reduc- tion in the characters, the play is shortened by many hundred lines. In the following description no reference is made to the Scenes where those characters appear that Kemble has omitted ; in speaking of Scenes ' in the original,' the Scenes in the Globe Edition are referred to.
The directions for the setting of the stage at the opening of the Play are as fol- lows : * The Palace in Alexandria should be of the most magnificent orders of the ' purest Grecian architecture ; yet the decorations and furniture of every apartment < should remind one that the scene lies in Egypt. Portico of the Palace : Stage open ' as far back as possible. View of the sea, ships, etc.. The Pharos, Pompey's Pillar, ' Cleopatra's Obelisk, Statues of Hercules, Alexander, Anubis.' At the foot of the page, Kemble, in the spirit of a true scholar, notes his authorities : < Norden's Antiq- ' uities of Egypt. Montfaucon. Mr Knight's Antiques.'
The First Scene opens with a conversation between Thyreus and Enobarbus ; after the first ten lines, which in the original are spoken by Philo, but here by Enobarbus, the latter gives the description of Qeopatra and her barge on the Cydnus. When Antony and Cleopatra enter, the Scene continues to the end unchanged as in the original. The first eighty lines of the Second Scene are omitted, and then Shake- speare's Scene continues with some minor omissions to the end. The Third Scene remains unchanged, as do also the Fourth and Fifthy with trifling omissions, and the First Act ends. The Second Scene of the Second Act follows the original, with the exception of twenty or thirty lines omitted here and there together with the description of Cleopatra on the Cydnus which has been transferred to the First Scene in the play. The Third Scene of the original is omitted, and instead the Fourth is retained, and ^|,, ' .. . < ^ ■ to it is added an abridgement of the first twenty lines of Act III^ Scene ii. The Fifth Scene of the original (Kemble's Third Scene) is retained with trifling omissions. The Messenger, Kemble calls Seleucus. Kemble's Fourth Scene of Act If. is com- posed of the Fourth and Fifth Scenes of Act Iff. of the original, and after Octavia , leaves (III, iv, 31) the Soothsayer enters, exclaiming, 'Antony! Antony! Antony! .
* You, that wish yourself in Egypt.' Antony demands, * What would you ? ' and then follows Act If, iii, from line 10 to * I' the east my pleasure lies,' with the omission of a line or two. Kemble's II, v. is III, iii. of the original. Kemble's II, vi. is III, vi.
590
APPENDIX
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ACTORS— B KERB OHM TREE
591
While these pages are going through the press, word comes from London of a Revival there, unprecedented for splendour and sumptuousness, by Mr Beerbohm Tree. The performance is thus spoken of by the London Times, January 4, 1907 :
* \jAnt(my and Cleopatra] is one of the classics of what M. Porto- Riche would call the Th6&tre de 1' Amour. Mr Bernard Shaw would give its theme a less elegant name, ** sexual infatuation/' Cleopatra is the irresistible enchantress, Antony the colossal lover, and the whole play must bum to a white heat with their fire. . . . Nevertheless, if you present Antony and Cleopatra at all, you must present it, above everything, as a treatment of "sexual infatuation" in the grand style. And that is just what Mr Tree has perceived and has done. ... [Mr Tree] has the supreme quality of thinking out the master-idea of a play, of disengaging its essential essence, and of comprehending the play " in its quiddity." To get at the heart of the play, and to exhibit that heart to you, he will boldly lop here and still more boldly add there — and who shall blame him ? The pedants, no doubt ; but certainly not the great body of playgoers who come to Shakespeare, as they come to any other dram- atist, simply and solely to get what pleasure they can out of him, — and whose pleasure is dependent upon the clearness, the unity, of what is put before them. . . . Where is that unity in Antony and Cleopatra ? Is it in the Imperial Roman tnoti/f No ; that is merely North's Plutarch cut up into blank verse, and taken by itself would be as dull as ditch water. Is it in the Octavia motifs the contrast of the ultra- respect- able matron, the pattern of domesticity, with the voluptuous orchidaceous Cleopatra ? No ; that is a mere additional touch of art. It is in the passion-xn^^/iy of Cleopatra and Antony, there and not elsewhere ; and it is upon that motif that Mr Tree con- centrates the whole force of his stage. Hence the scenes in "Cxsar's House" are cut very short indeed. Hence the ** camp " scenes become mere kinematographs. Hence the passionate duologue between Antony and Cleopatra is given all the advan- tage of scenic magnificence and orchestral illustration. Egypt, not Rome nor Athens nor Misenum, becomes the " hub " of the play. ... A dissolving vision of the Sphinx opens and closes the play. Weird nerve-thrilling Oriental strains are in the air. You hear those same strains even in Rome or Athens — on the Wagnerian plan — whenever Antony's thoughts turn to the far-away Cleopatra. For example, Antony has just parted, not without conjugal tenderness, from Octavia. He seems, for once, to have in him the makings of a model home-loving husband. But there swiftly enters a messenger — Cleopatra's trusty messenger — with a scroll. Antony falls on his couch, murmuring '* Cleopatra," and covering his eyes that he may shut out the present scene and dream of her, again to the faint sound of the Oriental music. You will search in vain for any indication of this "business" in Shakespeare; but it is ingeniously, and quite legitimately, invented ; it helps the unity of impression. Another example : in the text Caisar describes Antony's return to Alexandria, how " V th* market place on a Tribunal silver* d " [etc. Ill, vi, 4-9 ; 17-19]. All this Mr Tree actually shows you in a silent and yet extraordinarily eloquent tableau, which will, perhaps, vex text-worshippers, but certainly will delight everybody else. . . . One hardly knows which to admire most, the gorgeous interior of the palace in which Cleopatra loves and languishes, or the mysterious cavern-like vastness of the " Monument," wherein she so nobly dies. Another masterpiece both of stage-car- pentry and of stage management is the deck of Pompey's galley, where the Trium- virs and their ofHcers get so imperially drunk. ... It would be unjust not to mention the name of the designer of the costumes, Mr Percy Macquoid. . . . Mr Tree him- self makes a fine figure of Antony. He does not fall into the error of showing him
592
APPESDIX
as a mere sensiul weakling, " pusioo's slaTe.** ladeed bis vatnpanB dsflli^ when he is encircled fay Cleopotn's armSy seem to lack ■■nriliiun ^ warmth. No doabc Mr Tree will become mcce <Vinii»rfii»eIy jmmuua br and bf. M'siowbile joa cannot help liking his AniooT— whidv, cf cnrsr^ is cpiite the ng^ frame of min<L The OctaTins of Mr Basil Gill and. the Pmimef of Mr Jviim L'Estnnge are both excellent performances — cber are fxoocr **- RntiiDdL's men " wk speak their lines roandl j. Excellent, too, the Eaofaarbos of Xr Lvn FTi«wriw«^ pod to look at and a treat to hear. His ^ purple patch '^ iVuiihiiig CLsopatim's pilqr ooold not be better deliTcred. The helpless inloxicztaoa of f ^Mfuff. on boani Pom- pey*s ship loses nothing of its grotesque repalsTeacss is. die bamb of Mr ^Hgbmb Forbes ; Mr Fisher White makes a quite remark ahSe thin^ cf cbe SootbaBfcr; nk the unhappy messenger who is so bullied and tentfied b^ tbe jeaioiB OeopntB is 'tcTf clererir played by Mr Charles Quartermaine.
But Qeopaira herself? ETerything in this play depends mpoit bar. IL is a teni- biy exacting part for any actress. She must haTe beaarr, of caara^ and^ what ■ eren more important, she must have glamour. She vast be aliilie id ran at a o^ sweep through the whole gamut of emotion — from dove-like rrwnin^s to the n^ of a tigresji, from Toluptuout languor to passion all aflame, firaaa the fibcsar of a vinip> A the calm and statuesque majesty of one of the noblest deadt-scenes in. all Shaken speare. It is a great ordeal for Miss Constance CoQier. Ome tzcmbljed fast hs beforehand, but quite needlessly as it turns out, for she not oobr looks bat pinys the part splendidly. An occasional touch of our modem '* fine ipnkw *'" f i-^i^^ whkh jars against the music of Shakespearian rerse is the only lilrniith in wbnc is on tbe whole, as Enobarbus sajrs of the Queen, ** a wonderful piece of
•T *
Thr Daily Telegraph iiA December, 1906) : Never, pnbnbry, bi bts has Mr Tree given us a more perfect stage adornment than tbnt wbic& he displiiys in Antony ^ CUopatra, The gradation of colours, the delicate shndes of violet, and puce, and purple, the glittering robes of the Queen, the pomp and cemonr of ber court, — ail the»c things, controlled by the practised artistry of Mr I^^Lf XaoEpBuid, add to the pleasure of the eye, and give bodily semblance to the in&er ■Miniiii^ of the play. If for nothing else, the production would be extraordinaiy ^>t*""^^r of iB stage pictures. The first glimpse of the landing-stage of Qeopotra's p*^"**^^ with the l/arge that draws up to the steps, from which issue the regal pair of faiveis ; te beautiful gold-bedizened scene, when Qeopatra wreaks ber vengeance on Ae messenger telling of Antony's betrothal ; the magnificent tableau of die reconi of Antony to Alexandria ; above all, perhaps, the scene on Pompey^s galley, wbcxe, in the mysterious dark, lit by the fantastically-coloured lamps at the poop^ the trismvirs watch the dancing-girls, and themselves join in a mad debancb — these and oAer pictures prove once more that whatever else we may have socoeeded or 6iled in doing on the modem stage, we have advanced the ordinary scenic artifices to a pitch of success which was not dreamed of by our forefathers. In this, above alU lies the triumph of lost night*s play, on which Mr Tree b warmly to be congratulated. . . .
Certainly the piece is very well played. Miss Constance Collier, handsoae, dark-skinned, barbaric, dominates the scene wherever she appears. Nor has she ever had a better chance, or more fully availed herself of it, than when in the seoood act she has to prove how close the tiger's cruelty lies under the sleek skin of the cultivated woman. Mr Tree's Mark Antony was a fine, masculine, resolute rendering of a hero ruined by love. There is not much subdety or complexity in the pait.
ACTORS— BEERB OHM TREE
593
Antony is the Samson caught by Delilah ; a sort of primitive, elemental hero, whose degradation is all the more sure because his intellect is so inferior to his heart. And this is precisely the hero whom Mr Tree so skilfully rendered. Apart from these two principal personages, there were many others who gained a significant success on the boards. Mr Basil Gill was very alert and vivid in the part of Octavius Caesar, saying his lines with that prompt energy which belongs to the nature of the Shakespearian conqueror. Mr Norman Forbes gave adequate presentment of the weakness of Lepidus, an invaluable help in the evolution of the play, keeping the figure within its proper limits, as wholly subordinate, yet illustrative of the increasing degeneracy of the Roman. Mr Lyn Harding's Enobarbus was also a fine performance, pictur- esque, and varied, done with admirable lightness and no little artistic skill ; while Mr Julian L'E^trange, in such brief opportunities as he possessed, gave a firm sketch of Sextus Pompeius. Qeopatra*s two attendants, Iras and Charmian, were both excellent — especially, perhaps, Charmian, as played by Miss Alice Crawford, who revealed real dramatic power in the last act, and throughout presented a beautiful picture of Eastern womanhood. Nor ought we to forget the dignified Sooth-sayer of Mr J. Fisher White — a characteristic personage, who at various crises in the story illustrated before our eyes the noiseless steps of on-coming Destiny.
It would be interesting, also, if it were possible, to recount all those clever adaptations and contrivances by means of which so diffuse a play was brought within manageable compass on the stage. We must limit ourselves, however, to one example, where Shakespeare has given a real difficulty to the stage manager. Antony who has tried, very imperfectly, to commit suicide, is lying outside the walls of Alex- andria. Cleopatra and her maids have taken refuge in the monument The problem is how to get the wounded man into the monument, in order that the final scene of death may be enacted before us. Mr Tree solves it as follows. In the gloom of on-coming night the fallen hero, Mark Antony, is carried to the bottom of the walls, and above, at a window, Cleopatra is looking out, to answer the cry of her defeated lover. As the lights go out we see the body being hoisted upwards to the window ; then, by a quick change, we are transported to the interior of the monument, and once more see Antony being lifted inwards through the open window, and brought to the couch to receive Cleopatra's farewell. It was a clever bit of stage work, which gave a complete and satisfactory impression without any lack of verisimilitude.
The ATHENiCUM (5 January, 1907) : For the first time, so far as records extend, Antony and Cleopatra has been set upon the stage in a manner worthy of the place it occupies in the Shakespearian drama, and its reception, — not that accorded it by the first night's public at His Majesty's, but the lasting empire it exercises over the play-going world, — should settle definitely its claims to rank among the great acting plays. ... As re-arranged by Andrew Halliday, the piece was produced at Druiy Lane in 1873. At the Standard it was also given; and in Manchester there was a noteworthy revival. The experiment of Mrs Langtry ; that of Madame Bernhardt, which, however, was in Sardou, not Shakespeare ; and that, sadly misjudged, of Signora Duse, belong to days comparatively modem. Irving, urged to present the play at the Lyceum, was discouraged by its record of indifferent success. Among these efforts, that of Mr Tree is the most serious, — it might almost be said the sole serious attempt. That in 1873 at Drury Lane came nearest to it in splendour and had a certain amount of imaginative grace. ... In the case oi Antony and Cleopatra it is impossible to regard with favour the restrictions upon scenic display which some
38
594
APPENDIX
sticklers for the text, and nothing but the text, would have us obsorre. Here, if any- where, is to be shown the full splendour of a court in which Egypt strove, if not with Assyria, with Rome in wealth and luxury, when Cleopatra wore, as now she wean the garb of Isis and accepted her worship, and her regal lover took on him the state and splendour of his ancestor, Hercules. Nowise burdensome is the enTironment Mr Tree provides. It is on the contrary splendidly helpful and serviceable, as well as pleasurable to the spectator. As regards the mounting, it is not only the best that has been given to this play — it may be regarded as the best that has been bestowed upon any work of the author. ... A splendid effect is realized in the scene at the portals of Qeopatra's Palace where the royal lovers arrive at the river front and disembark. Still more superb is that in which, apparelled like Isis, the queen greets her returning warrior. As an example of scenic decoration and pageantry this is unequalled. More sedate in beauty, but still unsurpassable, is that in the Palace in which Qeopatra receives the unfortimate messenger who brings her intelligence of the marriage of Antony and Octavia. Very fine, too, is the picture of debanch on the galley of Pompey. A word of special praise is deserved by the costomes of the Roman warriors, which are perfect. Those of Qeopatra and her hand-maidens * beggared all description.'
The general interpretation is admirable. Looking Antony to the life, Mr Tree shows something more than the inspired sensualist who for Cleopatra's sake counted the world well lost. With him are well contrasted the forceful, passionate, resolute Caesar of Mr Basil Gill, and the weak, bibulous Lepidus of Mr Norman Forbes. Enobarbus, Sextus Pompeius, Eros, the Soothsayer, and other prominent characters find effective exponents. Miss Constance Collier is a splendid Cleopatra, and shows well the forcible passions that underlie the sensual charm and allurement of the queen. The most dramatic scene in the play — her onslaught on the messei^er bringing her the unwelcome news of Antony's marriage — is thrilling in savage, pas- sionate intensity and energy, and was greeted with rapture by the audience. Ins and Charmian have delightful exponents, the latter, in the person of Miss Alice Crawford, displaying dramatic power as well as charm. For the first time the play has been adequately set before the public, by which it was received with ecstasy. Whether the magnificence of the production will break the spell under which Antony and Cleopatra supposedly labours remains to be seen. It can hardly, however, be otherwise, since as spectacle and as intellectual entertainment the whole is equally noteworthy.
In 1878 there was a Revival by Miss Rose Eytinge, which had, as it was reported, a successful * run ' of many weeks in New York, and throughout the country. Mr G. C. Boniface was Marc Antony ; Mr C. Rockwell, Octavius.
There was another Revival in New York in 1889, with a version • arranged for •acting' by Mr Kyrle Bellew, who took the part of Anthony ; Mrs Potter was Cleopatra ; Mr Ian Robertson, Octavius, and Mr Henry Edwards, Enobarbus.
A Version by M. Sardou (never published, I believe) was produced by Miss Fanny Davenport, and by Mad. Sara Bernhardt.
COSTUME— GOD WIN
COSTUME
595
In Cumberland's British Theatre, edited by D. G. [Gkorgs Daniel] the
following directions are given for the Costumes :
Marc Antony. — Splendid buff shirt and robe — fleshings — sandals — bracelets — white riband tied round his brows. Second dress : Roman shirt — breastplate and lambeskean shield — sword and helmet.
OcTA vius CiESAR. — Roman toga— fleshings — sandals, &c. Second dress : Breast- plate, helmet, lambeskean — red robe — sword, chain, &c.
Enobarbus. — White shirt and red robe — fleshings — sandals, &c. Second dress : Breastplate — lambeskean — sword, helmet, &c.
Lepidus. — Roman toga — fleshings — sandals, &c.
Sextus Pompeius. — Ibid.
Eros. — Roman shirt — breastplate — ^lambeskean — helmet— 6word — robe — arm and leg fleshings.
Philo and MECiCNUS. — Ibid.
Agrippa. — Roman toga. Second dress : Armour ibid.
Thyreus. — Roman shirt — robe — fleshings, arms and legs. Second dress : Armour ibid.
DoLABELLA. — White shirt and robe. Second dress : Armour ibid.
Callus and Menas. — Ibid.
Alexas. — Blue shirt, with gold binding — blue robe — fleshings, &c
DiOMEDS. — Roman shirt and robe. Second dress : Armour ibid.
Canidius. — Roman toga — fleshings — sandals, &c.
EuPHRONius. — Blue robe — white beard — sandals and fleshings.
pROCULEius. — Shirt — ^breastplate — fleshings — helmet, &c.
Cleopatra. — Egyptian merino white dress — tiara of jewels in hair — dress richly ornamented with pearls and jewels — robe of tissue, richly studded with stars, &c. — sandals — robes and crown for last scene.
OCTAVIA. — White Roman dress — sandals, &c — riband in hair.
Charmian. — Egyptian blue merino, and robe — fleshings, sandals.
Iras. — Buff ibid-— ornaments in hair.
[Unless the foregoing ' lambeskean ' stands for lambskin, it is unintelligible to me; it is faithfully reprinted.]
E. W. Godwin ( The Architect^ 26th June, 1875) : The Costume of this play may be taken to be somewhat mixed. That the Roman fashions were for the most part accepted wherever the power of Rome had made itself a reality may be safely assumed, but then these fashions were themselves moulded on those of other nations. . . . But fashion, in old as in modem times, belongs to the upper classes, so that while I have little hesitation in clothing Kleopatra and her court in the habit, or some slight modi- fication of the habit, prevalent among Greeks — more or less adopted also by the Roman aristocracy — the poor people, the Clown especially, and perhaps the Sooth- sayer, might very well exhibit in their dress some tradition of the old nation to which they belonged.* The Ionic chiton, the chlamys, the peplos, the transparent fine linen vest, chemise, or under tunic were dresses which obtained throughout the shores
♦ The Queen, according to the Text, which follows history in this particular, appeared often * in the habiliments of the goddess, Isis,' — the goddess of the Moon ; in other words, in a long, transparent, fine linen tunic, and a pallium fastened by a knot in front, a crown of lotus flowers on her head, and a sistrum in her hand.
596
APPENDIX
of th« Mediterranean with but little yariation bcjrond that resulting from decrease in length or breadth of materiaL No doabt, too, the fashionable ladies of Alexandria had their parasols, or umbracula, just the same as the ladies of Athens, Rome, or IVnnpeii. Broad-brimmed straw hats, with low, saocer-shaped crowns, were also probably worn. OctaTia, after her marriage, might appear in tiie stola and die sqnare-cnt white pallium, fastened with a fibula, or brooch, on the light sibonlder, leaTing the right arm free.
In reference to the Stags Setting, Godwin has the following (^. cit, 26di June, 1875) : In the tragedy before as we hare no less than thirty-six ymrs. Of these, twenty-five are architectnral, including the one on board Pompey's galley, which belongs to naval architecture. The other twenty-four are divided bawcea Alexandria, Rome, Messina, and Athens, or the re^Kctive residenoes of Kleapatru^ Cmsar^ P&mpeius, and Aniamius, but by far the most inqxirtant of ^bese are those whidi belong to the Gty of the PtoUmia, It is next to in^x>ssible to reduce this play to set scenes, for the unities of time and place are quite disregarded by the anthor. In the first aiKi last Acts a very slight change would enable ns to bring these into two scenes, if the fourth Scene of the first Act were carried 00 to the second Act and the first Scene of the fifth Act omitted, but the second Act carries ns in seven Scenes from Pampefs house at Messina to the house of Lepidta at Rome, thence into Citsars palace, thence into the streets of Rome, thence Id the palace at Alexandria, therxx to Misenmn, and finally leaves us floating on the sea. In the third Act (eleven Scenes) we are in Alexandria, Rome, and Athens ; ixnr on the plains of Syria, and xK>w 00 the promontory of Actinm. In the fourth Act of thirteen Scenes we are certainly confined to Alexandria and its ndghbourhood, but we are perpetually moved aboot from the inside of the palace to the outside, from within to witfaoot the walls, from one camp to the other, until we are brought to rest in that remazicahle Scene — * the Monument.' I see no reason why the Scene in the house of JLepidus (Act iL, Scene 2 ) should rK>t be laid in a lesche or nxMier a colonnade before C^sarx boose, and thns serve also for the two Scenes whi<^ follow it. Indeed, by die exercise of some little thought and care, the whole number of the ardiitectnxal Scenes may be fairly reduced, and it is possible without serious mntilation to prevent saooe of the abrapt changes, as for example that brought about by the introduction of Alexandria in the fifih Scene of the second Act ; for there does not exist, as it seems to me, any great obstacle to this Scene forming part of the third in the third Act. I cannot at present see that we can do with less architectnral scenery than that set down in ^ following list, unless the Scenes at Athens and Messina are omitted altogether :
1. The palace at Alexandria — ^interior.
2. A Moxmment at Alexandria.
3. CUesof's house at Rome — a lesche or ookxmade.
4. Anttmrs house at Athens — interior.
5. Pamper' s house at Messina — interior.
Of the interior of Klecpatras palace the play presents ns wiih no les than twelve Scenes, and vrith one laid outside or before the palace (Act IV, Sc tii), bat all thir- teen coold reasonably pass in one hall if attention were ^ven to the pJ^TiTt^T*^ gf iL The remains of the temples at Philac, Dendera, and Kalabsche, the relic of the palace at Medinei Habon, and the re^nesentaxions of domesbc ardutectnre in the fragmess of wall paintings in oar mnseums, are tibe only anthonties available for this iiMjM*f wt
LIST OF EMEND A TJONS IN CAMBRIDGE EDITION
597
Scene. The temples and palace, howeTer, that I have just mentioned must be held to be far inferior to the temples and palaces of the ro}ral city. . . .
The evidence of material wealth — a splendour lavish as daylight — would be there [Alexandria]. Whatever marble and basalt, porphyry and serpentine, bronze or silver, or gold or any other precious material could do, we may be quite sure was not lacking. Mechanics would shine like the sun, in construction ; multitudes of pillars, and miles of avenue, and corridor, and labyrinth would speak of the mighty mass of labour in the service of Egypt. . . .
The ' Monument ' of the play is evidently nothing more than the raised stage at the back of the main stage, so common in the theatres of Shakespeare's time. An Egyptian monument or tomb was constructed on principles which could not possibly admit the poet's idea. But the Greek monument was altogether different. In the one case we find a tomb, an architectural grave, a sepulchre ; in the other we have a house, a shrine, a temple. The little memorial of Lysicrates at Athens, and the temple-like Lydan monument discovered at Xanthus, and now in our National Museum, are extreme illustrations of one principle of design. In both the structure consists of two storeys : the ground storey solid and comparatively plain, the upper storey open and enriched with columns, figure sculpture, and other ornamental acces- sories. Now, although acting on a higher platform than the stage is always made to look more or less ridiculous by modem scenic arrangements, in proof of which asser- tion I may cite Juliet* s balcony as a flagrant example, and although I know of no instance where this division of stage level has been well carried out, yet even in the Veronese and Venetian plays there is no room for reasonable excuse if the Scene results in failure ; still less in the play under consideration should the acting suffer, inasmuch as the area of the Monument of Egypt's Queen may be of almost any size.
Antonys house at Athens might be one of the old Greek houses or palaces, with its double arrangement of Andronitis and Gynseconitis, or the men's and women's quarters. The fourth and fifth Scenes of the third Act introduce us to two rooms in this house, but there is no reason why one interior should not suffice for both Scenes, if the proper room be selected, which I take it should be the pillared hall (avX^) of the Andronitis, which in a Greek house occupies the place of the Roman Atrium. The floor might be of mosaic, whilst both the ceiling and walls might be painted. Pompeys house at Messina might be either Roman or Greek, or half and half. ... In Antony and Cleopatra there is not one word about architecture or build- ing, but then we have a description of the Queen*s barge.
LIST OF EMENDATIONS ADOPTED IN THE TEXT OF THE CAMBRIDGE EDITION
This List does not include Stage Directions ; divisions into metrical lines ; mere punctuation, such as changing an / into an / ; nor changes of spelling, such as /m- son'd for ' poisoned,' therms for ' there is,' etc. Nor is there included two or three changes in the distribution of speeches, which were self-evident ; nor such changes as M alone' s Servants for the Folio's <Omnes.' These hardly rise to the dignity of emendations. The Four Folios are considered as one text The lines are num- bered according to the Folio Text, as given on the preceding pages of the present volume.
598
APPENDIX
|
In the First Scene of the First Act, no |
emendation has been admitted. In the |
||||||
|
following passage |
S— |
||||||
|
Theobald amends |
< change ' |
to |
charge |
I. |
u» |
7 |
|
|
It |
(( |
« foretell * |
« |
fertUe |
u |
M |
40 |
|
Warburton |
<( |
* windes ' |
«< |
minds |
«• |
U |
12* |
|
Dycc |
M |
'how' |
K |
ho |
u |
« |
128 |
|
Rowe |
« |
* compelling an ' |
<( |
a compelling |
<4 |
M |
160 |
|
Pope |
<( |
Moue* |
« |
leave |
<« |
M |
203 |
|
Rowe |
M |
• heire ' |
44 |
hair |
«< |
«f |
217 |
|
Heath |
« |
*one* |
a |
our |
«C |
"▼l |
^ |
|
Johnson |
«( |
* vouchsafe * |
44 |
vouchsafed |
« |
44 |
10 |
|
Malone |
M |
« foyles' |
u. |
soils |
M |
<4 |
*7 |
|
Theobald |
«< |
* fear'd ' |
44 |
dear'd |
M |
M |
51 |
|
(( |
a |
* lacking ' |
44 |
lackeying |
«4 |
« |
53 |
|
Pope |
« |
< vassailes ' |
4( |
wassails |
M |
44 |
65 |
|
Steevens |
(« |
'Was' |
44 |
Wast |
M |
« |
66 |
|
Theobald |
« |
<dumbe' |
44 |
dumb'd |
«C |
V, |
5« |
|
Pope (Ed. ii) |
u |
* neere ' |
44 |
ne'er |
n. |
«» |
4S |
|
Rowe |
M |
* not, say * |
44 |
not sOf |
M |
• • |
141 |
|
Warburton |
M |
*proofe* |
44 |
reproof |
« |
« |
142 |
|
Rowe |
«< |
* gloue ' |
44 |
glow |
II. |
ii. |
239 |
|
Pope |
<« |
* alway 'tis * |
44 |
away, */is |
t |
• • • I". |
34 |
|
Theobald |
«< |
* Tawny fine * |
44 |
Tawney-finn^d |
«< |
▼, |
16 |
|
Tyrwhitt |
« |
*'Us* |
44 |
• %s |
« |
C( |
54 |
|
Heath |
4< |
' meaning ' |
44 |
meanings |
«4 |
▼i. |
«♦ |
|
Capell |
<C |
* Hue ' |
44 |
luf |
<« |
• • |
14 |
|
Rowe |
<« |
« then he is * |
44 |
then is |
« |
44 |
109 |
|
Theobald |
(« |
* bcate ' |
44 |
bear |
M |
•4 |
130 |
|
Hanmer |
M |
'figure* |
44 |
figures |
III. |
ii. |
18 |
|
Theobald |
l< |
* weepc * |
44 |
wept |
M |
M |
70 |
|
Thirlby |
M |
Mook't* |
M |
tookU |
«< |
iv. |
10 |
|
Capell |
<« |
* the other ' |
44 |
the one the other |
«4 |
V. |
15 |
|
Johnson |
(4 |
' hither ' |
44 |
he there |
U. |
▼i. |
14 |
|
Theobald |
M |
* abstract ' |
44 |
obstruct |
M |
M |
67 |
|
Capell |
<( |
* makes his ' |
44 |
make them |
U |
« |
96 |
|
Theobald |
M |
< Leaders leade ' |
a |
leader's led |
4C |
85 |
|
|
Pope |
« |
•Ven.' |
44 |
Can. |
«< |
M |
«9 |
|
Capell |
«< |
' Thantoniad ' |
4( |
The Antoniad |
4C |
X, |
6 |
|
t( |
i( |
« them ' |
44 |
that |
III, |
», |
21 |
|
Rowe |
l( |
* stowe * |
41 |
tow |
M |
u |
64 |
|
Theobald |
44 |
•The' |
41 |
Thy |
U |
M |
65 |
|
(« |
<4 |
« Thidias ' |
14 |
Thyreus |
M |
• • xu. |
3« |
|
Pope |
« |
•the' |
M |
this |
44 |
• •• sill, |
127 |
|
Hanmer |
« |
•Caesarian smile' |
44 |
CasarioH smite |
•< |
44 |
194 |
|
Thirlby |
<( |
• discandering ' |
14 |
discandyimg |
M |
u |
«97 |
|
Rowe |
« |
•in' |
« |
on |
« |
M |
235 |
|
Hanmer |
M |
• thine ' |
44 |
mine |
XV, |
iv. |
6 |
|
Theobald |
« |
•guests' |
a |
gests |
M |
viii, |
4 |
|
u |
M |
•BaTouriiig' |
44 |
favouring |
« |
« |
30 |
PLAN OF THE WORK
599
|
Capell |
amends |
' auguries * |
to |
augerers |
IV, |
• • |
7 |
|
Hanmer |
(( |
< pannelled ' |
«( |
spanieVd |
«« |
«i |
26 |
|
Thirlby |
i< |
« dolu ' |
M |
doits |
« |
«l |
44 |
|
Rowe |
<i |
* toward ' |
(« |
tower' d |
« |
xiv, |
6 |
|
Theobald |
K |
' dislimes ' |
<« |
diilimns |
M |
« |
H |
|
Pope |
«« |
* when * |
<l |
where |
l( |
XT, |
51 |
|
Johnson |
«< |
•in' |
(« |
e'en |
«( |
<c |
93 |
|
Rowe |
<« |
'leave* |
l( |
live |
V, |
• 1. |
7a |
|
Warburton |
<i |
* dung * |
M |
dug |
«« |
• • |
8 |
|
Theobald |
«< |
* Anthony ' |
«l |
autumn |
« |
14 |
in6 |
|
Capell |
t« |
* suites ' |
41 |
smites |
(« |
M |
126 |
|
ti |
« |
« wilde * |
l( |
vile |
M |
<t |
369 |
|
Pope |
M |
* away * |
M |
awry |
« |
« |
373 |
PLAN OF THE WORK, etc.
In this Edition the attempt is made to give, in the shape of Textual Notes, on the same page with the Text, all the Various Readings of The Tragedie of Anthony and Cleopatra^ from the Second Folio down to the latest critical Edition of the play ; then, as Commentary, follow the Notes which the Editor has thought worthy of insertion, not only for the purpose of elucidating the text, but at times as illustrations of the History of Shakespearian criticism. In the Appendix will be found criticisms and discussions which, on the score of length, oould not be con- veniently included in the Commentary.
LIST OF EDITIONS COLLATED IN THE TEXTUAL NOTES
The Second Folio [F,] . .
The Third Folio [F,] . .
The Fourth Fouo [FJ . .
N. Rowe (First Edition) [Rowe]
N. Rowe (Second Edition) [Rowe ii]
A. Pope (First EdiUon) [Popc]
A. Pope (Second Edition) [Pope ii]
[Theob.] [Theob. ii] [Han.] [Han. ii] [Warb.] [Cap.]
L. Theobald (First Edition)
L. Theobald (Second Edition)
Sir T. Hanmer (First Edition)
Sir T. Hanmer (Second Edition)
W. Warburton
E. Capell
Dr Johnson [Johns.]
Johnson and Steevens [Var. '73]
Johnson and Steevens [Var. '78]
Johnson and Steevens [Var. '85]
J. Rann [Ran.]
E. Malonb [Mai.]
Geo. Steevens [Steev.]
Reed*s Steevens [Var. '03]
Rbbd's Steevens [Var. '13]
1632 1664 1685 1709 1714
1723 1728
1733 1740
1744 1745
1747 (?) 1761
1765
1773 1778 1785
1787 1790
1793 1803
1813
gQQ APPENDIX
Boswux's Maloxi C^"-]
C K:«GHT [K^]
J. P. COLUE& (Fust Editioii, [^<^]
Sw W. Since* (Second Ediboa) [^Mag. ii]
A. I>YCE i^ First Editioo) [^«]
H. Staunton L^]
J. P. CoLUDi (Second Editioaj [ColL n]
R. G. White (First Editioa) [^T*-]
Cambkjdge (First Editioo, W. G. Claee mmI W. A.
Weight) [C««-]
T. KncHTixY [^^yl
Gu»E EDiTioif (CiAEK and Weight) . - [Gio.]
J. O- Haijjwell (Folk) lUfitJoo) P^*^^_
A. Dtce (Sccood Editioo) \Pl^ «]
A. Dyce ^Tbird Edition) [Dyce iix]
J. P. COLLISE (Third Edition) [CdL m]
R. G. White ^Second Edition) [Wli. ii]
Cambeidge (SccDod Editioo, W. A. Weight) . . [Cam. n]
Ret. John Hcxtee (Loognnns' Series) . . [Hnnter]
N. Deuts [P«^]
W. J. ROLJE [Rtf«]
H. N. Hudson [Hods.]
F. A. BiAESHALL {Hinry Irving EiHtidm) . .
K. Deichton P^]
C H. Heefoed
C WOEDSWOETH [Wofds.]
|
• • • • |
1S2Z |
|
(?) |
I&4D |
|
I&^ |
|
|
iS>6 |
|
|
1S57 |
|
|
1857 |
|
|
iS0 |
|
|
idoo |
|
|
uc»5 |
|
|
iSq4 |
|
|
1S64 |
|
|
1S65 |
|
|
1866 |
|
|
1S75 |
|
|
1877 |
|
|
iJiS^ |
|
|
1892 |
|
|
London, |
, 1870 |
|
Elbcdeki, |
1S72 |
|
New YoA, |
1904 |
|
Boston^ i88z |
|
|
London, |
. iffl9 |
|
• |
iQor |
New Yo«k, IOCS 1893
These last eight
I hare not ooHjued beyood irfniing to then in «T;*^m*<t
Within the Ust twentj-fiTe years* — indeed, since dfee appearance, in l9G4. ci Tie Globe EJinam^ — the text of Shakespeaee is became so settled that to collatt; wofd for word, the text of ecfitions whsch hare Appcjtred within &is fma, would be a oeecfless tmsk. When, howrver, an E(&Dr rrvises his text in a Secmid cr a Third y^twn the case is different; it then becomes interesting to mnk die cfisct of BBtBier judgement.
The present Text is thxt of the FiEsr Folio of 1623. Every word, I migte ay afamxt every letter, has been collated with the original ; yet I am not s> BKxpe- as to betieve that it is absoloteiy perfect.
In die Textual Notes the symbol Ff 'm^He^tw^ the agreement e£ the Secwmd^ iy and Famrth Fatios.
I have not called attention to every littfe miyint in die FoGo. The Textmxi Nates win show, if need be, dut titey are mispiints by die agiujuuit of all the EfStors in their corrections.
Nor is notice taken of the first E<fitor who adopted the modem spdEag, cr sdb> ttitnted commas fisr a parenthesis, or changed ? to L
The sgn - indicates the agreement of RowE, PoFS, Theoeatti, Hanxix, WAEBtniTON, and Johnson.
LIST OF BOOKS
60I
When Wakbuktoh precedes Hanheb in the Ttxttml Nalis, it iadicUei Ihat Hanmeb bM ToUowed a niggesUoo of Warburton's.
Tbe words it at. after an; reading indicate that it ii the reading of all olier editions.
The words el teg. indicate the agreement of all Hibsequent editions.
The abbreiiatioii {^lubj.) indicates that the reading is ix^iAin/iditf)' given, and that itnmaieria] vaiiatioos in spelliog, punctuation, or stage-directions are disregarded.
When yarr. precedes Steev. or Afal. it includes the Variarumi of 1773, 1778, and 17S5 > wlKn it follows Sttcv. or Mai. it includes the Varionma of 1803, 1813, and 1831.
An Emendation or Correction given in the Graunentary is not repeated in the Ttxttml Note], unless it has been adopted hj an Editor in his Text ; nor is cbhJ. added in the Textual Nota to the name of him who has proposed the conjecture, unless the coojecture happens to be that of an Editor, in which case omission of MS;, would lead to the inference that such was the reading of his teiL
Coll. MS refers to Collier's copy of the Second Folio bearing in its margin manuscript annotations. When Collier adopted its readings in his Text, it is placed in parenthesis (MS). Coll. '53 stands for a monovolume which Colurk issued in 1853, wherein these MS readings are incorporMed in the Text
LIST OF BOOKS
% in the foregoing pages, as a general mle merely the name of an author has been given, fallowed, in parenthesis, by tbe number of rolumc and page.
Id the following List, artanged alphabetically, enough of the full titles is set forth to serve the purposes of either identification or reference.
Be it understood that this List contains only those books wherefrom quotations have been taken at first hand. It does not include those which have been consulted or used in verifying references ; were these included the list would be very many times longer.
E. A. Abbott : Skakapearuai Grammar London, 1870
A. A. Adie : LUerary World, 21 April Boston, 1883
V, ALnERt : Anlmio e CUspatra (Bohn's Edition) . . London, 1876
C At-LEN : Notts m lit Bacim-Shaittptari QutsHim . . . . Boston, I9OO
Anon. [R. Cartwright] SonHeti of Shakitptan. etc. . . London, 1859
E. Arber ! Transcript of the StaHontr's Rtgisttrt .... " 1877 W. R. AnKOWSMrrH : Skaittptar^ s Editors and Ominenlators " 1865 C. TON AvrBNHOFF: Klttpatra und AntBHtm . . . • Wien, 1808
S. Bailw : Rtetivtd Text of SAaieifitart London, i86«
C Bathhrst : Differtnces of Skuteipeare's VertificaHon, etc. " 1857
Batman vitok Bartbolome: Dt Proprietatihus fltrum, etc. " 1581
T, S. BaTHKs : SMaktsftart Sttiditt " '896
Beaumont and I' LtTCHiR : Thi False Ont (ed. Dyce) . . " '844
W. BlacKsTCiVR : Skaketpeari Society's Paptrs .... " 1844
W. Blades : Shake^tart and Typograpky " 187a
K. B1.UMHOFF : AMotty mJ Cleopatra. Brklirt tmt . . Celle, 1868
F. S. Boas : Shattiptart amd kit Prtdtetsiors. London, 1896
6o2
APPEKDIX
J. B. R. BoiSTEL: Aniaimt ei Cliopairt Vwc&^ 1743
R, W. Bond: Works of John Lyly Oxford, J 902
A. C BCADLE)' : Shakespearian Tragedy . . . . . . IjWMinn, 1905
•* Quarterly Krvieu\ April *• 2906
F. B&ADNACX : Medical Record^ I Februaij New York, 1S79
J. BbaND: Popular Antiquities Tjnndfm, 1873
£. C B&EWER : Reader's Handbook ** 1888
Sir Thomas Browne : Vulgar Errors **■ ibj2
J. C Bdccniix: Medical Knowledge of Shakespeare .... ^ i860
J. Bulloch: Studies of the Text of Shakespeare .... " X87S
K. Burton : Anatomy' of Metancholy . . . . . . Oicfard, 1651
JcttiK, Lord CAMPBiax : Shakespeare" s Legal Acquirements , . Nrw York, 1859
T. Campbell : Shakespeare s Dramatic Works . . L.ondoxi, 1S66
A. S. G. Canning : Shakespeare Studies in Eight Plays . . ^ 1 003
E. Capell : A «to, etc " rjjy
** Version for Garrick . . . , , . . , ** 1758
R. Cartwright [Anon.] Sonnets of Shakespeare Re-arranged « 1B59
** New Readings in Shake^eare .... " x886
Daniel Casper ton Lohenstein : Cleopatra fireskn, i66x
•••*•• ** (and Ed.) .. ^ 16S0
G. Chalmers: Sa^rplemental Apo2og}\ etc London, 1799
"W. & R. Chambers : Book of Days Edmbnz^ 1863
I>£ LA Chapet.I.F : Cleapatre Fazk, idSs
F. CoHN : Punfundsechzigster Jahresberichi d Schlesxschen
GeseOschafi f. vaterBndische Cultur Bxeslan, 18S8
H/OiTUT CoLmiDGE : Essays and Mtxrginalia . . Lopndan, 1851
S. T. CoLEBlDGE : JLectures and Notes on Shake^aere .... ^ 1%7
J. P. CoLUER ; Nates and Emendations^ etc *» 1^3
J. Chltlton Collins : Essays and Studies «* iSgg
** Studies in Shakespeare Wettmmster, 1904
*• Pinner of Wakefield hy R. Greene . . Qxfionl, 1905
G. Conrad : Cleopatra^ Trauerspiel in einem Anfamge . . Beriixv, 1S77
H. Corson : Jntmduction to Shakespeare ^^^^^^^^^ 1SS9
"W. 1. CoURTHOPF. : History- ef English Poetry T.n«>i^or| iqog
G, L. Craie : Enghsh of Shakespeare * 1S57
J. Crchtt: Annotations on Shakespeare's Plays York, iSxo }. Crosby : Shakespearusna^ Fefaruoxy niDadelpiua, 28S4
P. A. Daniel : Notes and Conjectural Emendations . . ''-'*'*'^^m^ Z870
S. Daniel: 71u Tragedie of Clecpatra (ed. Gniaal) .... «• 1594
T. DaVIB : DramatL- Miscellanies •• 1785
K. DEtOHTOK: Old Dramatisti. C on fectural Readings Calcantu, 1898
G. Dklfino: La Cleopatra I^dovm, 1733
F. DrNRKlSTBtiT : Antmuus umd Cleopatra Wie&, 1879
F. DonCR : JliustTUtism; of Shnkespeart, etc ^--*^'Ti^ 1807
T^ Wc^i^Kweaii SUtak^err : His Mmd atuj Art .... * 1875
y^X^hXM.', SkmketpeareemdBis Times *- 1817
A. Dvcv : Remarks on Colher's and Knigkl's Editiom . . « 1844
*• Pnt' Notes, etc •
*« Slmauru on C^Oer's New Edition .... «•
LiST OF BOOKS
603
J. EabLE : PkiUltgy aflhe English Tongme Oxroid, 1S79
T. Edwards : Cdiuiu ^ CriAVutn^ LondoD, 1765
H. N. ElXACOMBK: PlaiU Lore ff Skakisptare . . . . Exeter, 1878
/l.}.^\.1.\%: Early English rronuncialwn LondoQ, 1G69
C. I. ELTON! Shaksspfart Jlis l-„mi!y and Fritmis .. " 1904
K. ElzEi JValeian Etizabithan JiramaUstt HsUe, 1889
W. Everett; Six Cleopairas (Atlantic Montbly, Feb.) . . Boslun, 1905
F. W. Fairholt: DramatU Weris of John Lyly London, 1858
Y.G.S\SJCi: Shak.sfiart Mmual " 1876
John Florio: Sc^md FrvUs " 159'
A.TSJ^KCS.: yi/Lillirairr Qualriinu Sirit) Paris, n. d,
W. Franz: Shahsfiarf-Grammatik Halle, 1898
K. FrENIEL £crlinir Dramaturgie BeiUn, 1871
H. VON Triesen SAai»fiKrf-StudUn Wien, 1876
F. J FuKNiVAU, InlrvJuciiBH /i7The Leopold Shakipete , . London, 1877
R, Garhett : £nglish Ziliraturt " I9<»3
R. Garnier : M. Anieint. Tragnlit Rooen, 1616
R. Gen&e j Gtuhiekit der Siaitipearii^hm Dramm in Deutsih-
land Leipzig, (870
J. Gbnest: The F.nglish Siagt, 1660-1830 Baib, 1831
J. Gerarde: Thi He^all, nr GtntraH Histori4 of Planus . . London, 1633
G. G. Gervinus; Shaiespean (jte Aufl.) Leipzig, 1861
II. Giles : Iluman Lift in Shake.pearf Boston, 1868
Saint-Marc GiraRDIN : Vours d/ Liltirattire Dramaliqtu . . Parii, 1S60
Mad. EuiLR HE Gikardi> (Eui'm Complilts .... " 1S60
J. W. VON GOETJIE Shakfipcare und A'ein EnJr, 1813 . . StDttgait, 1840
A. GoLDiNO The XK Booki of P. Ouiditu Nasa, etc . . London, 1567
G. Gould : Carrigmda, etc " 1884
H. Green; Shaktsptan and Ikt Embltm Writers .... " 1870 Z. Grey : Critical, Histerieal, and Explanatory Nefes on
Shaitspiart - 17S4
')\Xi^^\rrv\^&: Morality of Skaii^<are's Drama .... " 177S
L. H. GrindoN 1 Shoinptare Flora MancheUer, 1883
yi,.G\i\ZQ!7: (EuvraCompUlisdeShaktspfarf .. Paris, 1868
H. IlALLAH Zileralurt ef Europe London, 1839
J. O. HftLiJWELL Sftfittd Notts on Antony and CUopatra . . " 1868 W, Harrison Discriplion of England (Prelized to Holins-
]ied*5 Chroniilts) " 1587
J. E. Hartinu Omilhehsy of Skaktsftare " 1871
W. HailitT; CharacUrs of Skakesptitt,- Plays .... - 1817
Mlitabetkan Litiralun " 1 869
B. Heath : Rniisal tf Skakriptarf- s Text " 1765
H. Heine: ^mmllitkt mrkf, stcrBand Philadelphia, iSS*
J. A. Heraud Skaiipert: lUs Inner Lift London, 1865
P. Hctsr Anionim and KUopatra (ed. Bodeostedt) . . Leipsg, 1867
E. A. Hitchcock Ftmarks on tkt Sonntts of Skaktsptart . . New York, 1S66
P. Holland Pliniis Naturall Hitierit London, 163s
Fran(;»[s- Victor Hugo (Euvrts Com^itts de Skaktsptart , . Paris, 1868
Joseph Hunter: Nen nittstralioms of Skaktsptart . . . . Londoo, 1845
6o4 APPENDIX
C M. Ingleby : Shakespeare Hermtnemtici •*
" Shakespeare^ the Man "
Z. JaocSOK : Shakespeare's Genius Justified **
Mrs Jameson : Characteristics of Womem . . . . . . **
E. JoDELLE : Cleopatre Captive Paris,
T. Keightley : Shakespeare Expositor LoDdon,
A. K.E&CKHOFFS : Casper von, Lohensiein''s Trauerspiele . . Paderbom,
W- Kelxy: Notices of Leicester^ etc Londoin,
A. VON KoTZEBUE : Octavia Leipzig,
F. K&EYSSIG : Vorlesungen ueber Shakespeare Berlin,
W. S. Lakdor : Antony and Octavius London,
F. A. Leo : Antonius und Cleopatra. Neubearbeitet von . . Halle,
«« Four Chapters of North's Plutarch^ etc Photo- lithographed from the Edition of IS9S - • - • Loodan, W. \V. Lloyd : Critical Essay (cd. Singer, 1856) .... « T. R. LouNSBURY : Shakespeare as a Dramatic Artist . . New York,
J. R. Lowell : Among my Books Boston,
T. LCFTON : Tkonsamd Notable Takings, etc London,
H. Lyte : A Nieue Herball or Historie of Plantes by D. R.
Dodoens «
H. W. Mabie : Shakespeare : Poet^ Dramatist^ and Man . . New York,
D. H. Madden : Diary of Master IVH&am Silence . . . . London,
M. Marmontel : CUcpatre Paris,
J. MoNCK Mason : Comments on [ Variorum, 17781 . . . . London,
" " " Beaumont and Fletcher^ etc «
G. Massey : The Secret Drama of Shakespeare' s Sonnets . . ** T. May : The Tragedie of Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt . • «
G. H. Mocller : Auffassung der KJeepatra, etc Ufan,
J. MoYES : Medicine, etc in Shakespeenr*s Plays . . Glasgow,
S. D. M[oRGUEs] : Anioine et CUopatre Paris,
J. Nichols : Literary Illustrations, etc (Theobald's and
Warburton's Correspondence) Irfmdon,
J, Nichols : Notes on Shakespeare "
North's Plutarch {Photolithographed byT, A. Leo) , . •*
J. G. Orger : Notes on Shakespeare's Histories and Tragedies *»
B. Pascal : Pens^es Puis,
C E. Pascoe : Dramatic List l<nndan,
F. Peck : New Memoirs of Milton ••
Sir P, Perring : Hard Knots in Shakespeare «
C Phiuts : Lokalf&rbung in Shakespeare's Dramen (Jahres-
beridit der h^eren Bfizgerschule) K2ln,
W. PoEL : New Shak^>ere Society, Transactions, S Nov. . . T^w^Am^^
J« P. QUTNCY : Corrections in a Ccpy of tie Fourth Folio . . Boston,
J. RiTSON : C-ursory Criticisms, etc , . , , . . . . London,
Vi*. R, Rye : England as Seen by Foreigners . . • . - . •• A. "W, SCHLEGEL : Ueber dramatische Kunst und Literatur . . Heid^bo^, A. ScHMTDT : Antonius und Cleopatra (ed. Dentsche Sfaake-
«p(?arr-Ge!i^schaft') Bcifin,
Sir Walter Scott : Works efDrydm Edtaboisfa,
«7S 881
819
833
583 867
877 865
801
862
8s6
870
878 856 901 870 627
578 904 897 750 785 79S 888
654 888
896 803
817
862
878 1890
846
740 886
887 8S9
854
1702
86s Sit
870
808
LIST OF BOOKS 60$
H. W. Seager : Natural History in Shakespeare's Time . . London, 1896
Sir C. Sedlky : Antony and Cleopatra " 1 677
T.Seward: Works of Beaumont and Fletcher .. .. « 1750 Mary Sidney, Countess of Pembroke : Tragedie of Antonie^
ijg2 (ed. Alice Luce) Weimar, 1S97
Sir Philip Sidney : The Defence of Poesie London, 1598
S. W. Singer : Text of Shakespeare Vindicated^ etc '♦ 1853
A. Skottowe: Life of Shakespeare ** 1824
J. Smith : Accidence for Young Seamen (Arber's Reprint) . , " 1626 Juuus, Reichsgraf von Soden : Kleopatra . . . . Locality not given, 1793
A. SoUMET : Cliopatre Paris, 1825
R. Sprenger : Bemerkungen zu Dramen Shakespearis . . Northeim, 189I
A. Stahr : Cleopatra Berlin, 1864
P. Stapfer : Shakespeare and Classical Antiquity . . . . London, 1880
A. C. Swinburne : A Study of Shakespeare " 1880
H. A. Taine : History of English Literature Edinburgh, 1874
B. Ten Brink : Five Lectures on Shakespeare . . . . New York, 1895
L. Theobald : Shakespeare Restored^ etc London, 1726
A. E. Thiselton : Sotne Textual Notes on Antony and Cleopatra ** 1899
R. C. Trench : Flutarch, etc «* 1873
T. Tyrwhitt: Observations and Conjecturest etc Oxford, 1766
J. Upton : Critical Observations on Shakespeare . . . . London, 1746
G. C. Verplanck : Shakespeare^ s Flays New York, 1847
F. T. VISCHER : Shakespeare- Vortrage Stuttgart, 1905
W. S. Walker : Versification . . . . , London, 1854
** Critical Examination of Shakespeare's Text •* i860
A. W. Ward : History of English Dramatic Literature . . •* 1875
T. Warton : History of English Poetry " 1 778
P. Wh alley : Enquiry into the Learning of Shakespeare . . " 1 748
R. G. White : Shakespeare's Scholar New York, 1854
<* Studies in Shakespeare Boston, 1 886
W. Whiter : Specimen of a Commentary on Shakespeare . . London, 1 794
G. Wilkes : Shakespeare from an American Point of Viev . . New York, 1882 W. Winter: Old Shrines and Ivy «* 1892
C. Wordsworth : Shakespeare's Knowledge and Use of the Bible London, 1864
DICTIONARIES
Prompiorium Panmlorum^ etc. (ed. Albert Way, 1865) . . Jehan Palsgraue : Lesclarcissement de le langue Francoyse^
etc. (Reprint, 1852)
T. Cooper : Thesaurus Lingua Pomana et Britannica, etc.
J. Florio : His firste Fruites
J. Baret : An Alvearie or Quadruple Dictionaries etc. . .
J. Florio : Second Frvtes
Claudius Hollyband ; A Dictionarie French and English
J. Florio : Worlde of Wordes
R. Cotgrave : Dictionarie of the French and English Tongues J. Florio : Queen Annans New World of Words
|
area. |
1440 |
|
Paris, |
1530 |
|
ndon. |
1573 |
|
(4 |
1578 |
|
« |
1^80 |
|
<l |
I 591 |
|
« |
1593 |
|
M |
1598 |
|
« |
161 1 |
|
M |
161 1 |
6o6 APPENDIX
M. WlTHAU : A Diditmarit tf EmgSsk amd Latime^ etc . . l^ominn, 1616
Jom lilHSHED : The Guide imio Tmffmes ^ 1617
JOHK BDLLOKAm : Am Enffhsk ExpQsUar •• 1621
R. PXKCZTALE : A DiOumary m ^kmisk and Emg^&sA (ed. Mm Am) * 1623
EdwaU) Philups : Tir New World of Em^hsk Word^ etc « 1662
Stkpbak Skimnkr : Eiywiolt^com LimguK Anghcam^ dtc * 167 1
R. K4JLES : Gloomy (ed. Halliwell and Wn|^ 1867) . . « ifta Wtuaam Smith : Diaiamary of Greek amd Homam Biogrt^y
mmd Mythology *^ 1844
J. BouviEft : Ztfap Dictiouary FhiladdlplQa, 185S
W. H. Smtth : Sailor's Word-Booi London, 1S67
J. O. Halliwell : Diaiomary of Archaic Words .... " 1S6S
J. TBOiftAS : Dicdomary of Biography^ etc FhiladfTphia, 1S70
A. Schmidt : Shakespeare' Lexicon Beriin, 1874
F. H. Stkatmann : DicHomary of the Old English Lamgmage Krefeld, 187S
W. W. Skeat : Etymologiad Dictionary Osfdrd, iSSit
J. A. H. MUREAT : New English Dictiamary " 188S
J. Wugbt : English Dialect DicOammry London, i%6
AbhomitwIioD 206
Abiliments 198
Abrarption of « 173
of / . . . 54, 107, 1x7, 180 Abstract for the concrete . ... 20, 94
Abstract tr obstmct 303
Abstracts, tfinai 59
Abturd or »s»ured 359
Action grows not in the power . . 313
Acts, divisiOD of S9
Adjeclivfs used for sdverbs , , . . 100
Admitted 07- omitted 351
Adoption by testunent 197
A^ppa, kit kiilery 5
Alarum 393
Alfieri, Vtrtiim 542
Alms-diink IS3
All-obeying breath 246
Alone biyend all elhiTi 377
Ani, feiuliar MSt 168
Anon, AthcDEuin on atlori ... $85
Answer other merits 354
Anthony, my oblivion is a very . . 55
Anthony er Autumn 344
Appeal-accuse I94
Approve 23
Aiafaian bird 175
Armegaunt steed 75
Art not whsi Ihou'rl tare of . . . 139 As-'inasmHih di.simt .... 61, 95
As she would wish 187
Aspect, ils accent 73
Assemble me or assemUe we . . . 68
Attraction (him /or be) 173
Attraction, pluiaj by 49
Anguriea 392
Away or awry 370
Ayreuhoff, Vtrsum 547
Banquet IJJ
Bathurst, m Cltopaira yai
en tht Dalt 384
tMthtPlay 479
Battaile 315
Battery from my heart 306
Beaumont & Fletcher, 7'<U/a/ifO>M 516
Beantious 144
Becomings 57
Beggar'* nunc 334
Beggary in love, faraUil fassaga . 1$
liclng it inn f or ieing 10 . ... 93
Bends adomings Ill
Beqneath 106
Besi- ten Hue 51
Best you 277
Billiards 138
Birthday 356
Black, with j^nchet 73
Blood, in 355
Blown, well 270
hloyra—ftiffeJ 374
Blows my heart 177
Boas, BH Cliofaira 504
" M Ike Play 487
Bochtu, King of LyUa, etc . ■ . 304
Boggier 349
Boistel, Venim 53S
Bool, make 360
Bourne 16
Boy Oesar 236
Boy my greatness 358
Boys, as we rate 63
Bradford, on Cltofalra 505
Bradley, on Ikt Plg^ 490
Breathless pomre breath forth . . . 119
Breeie — ofoi^ 219
Brief of money 350
Broad-fronted Qesar 73
6o8
INDEX
TAam
Brooke, Version 547
Burgooet 72
But 226
But ^nn/Aoia 291
But yet is as a jailor 135
Called into a huge sphere .... 155
Call on him 62
Campbell, en Dryden 475
on the Play 478
Canidius, his history 4
Cantle 217
Capell, Vernon 585
Carbnncled 283
Carries beyond belief 213
Cartwright, on the Play 480
Casper, Version 527
Q^A^ compute 176
Catch at = eager attempt 358
Caves or Canes 374
Cement, accent 177
Chance, ashes of my 353
Chance of Anthony 221
Change his horns 24
Chapelle, Version 535
Chares 323
Chariots, plural use 172
Charm 293
Child o' th' time 164
Gnthio, Version 514
Oeave my sides 306
Cle<^>atra, her history ...... 7
Clip 281,375
Qoth of gold of tissue no
Oond in*s face 180
Coleridge, ^n M^ /Vtfr 11
Coleridge, Hartley, on the Play . . 479
Collins, J. C, on Drydm .... 476
Colour in thy cheek 309
Comparisons or caparisons .... 237
Competitor 58, 161, 331
Compose 90
O^mposition 90
Concluf^ions infinite 375
Conclusion, still 317
Condition = iM/tofr 103
Conditional sentences 274
Confound — waste 22, 63
Confusion of final d and e . . . . 130
Conlord 153
Conrad, Version 578
Considerate stone 102
Continent 306
Contriving = j^loMmiiv^ ..... 42
Conversation <= jn^<r ^ /{/^ . . . . 151
Convey my shame 227
Qjorn^tA^ '^ corrected 310
Corson, on the Play 483
(jOK\6. = inclincUion ^
Courser's hair 43
Conrthope, on the Play 489
Court of guard 284
Crack, a greater 327
Crested 343
Cup us 167
QQn<ya&^ scrupulous 178
Cnistness 91
Daemon 123
Daft 268
Ty^JDH — doom 18
Daniel, G. Costume 595
Daniel, P. A., <m Duration of Action 387
Daniel, S., Version 514
Darting Parthya 171
Date of Composition 381
Davies, on Actors 583
on Play 586
Decorum, in Italics 31
Defects in dramatic construction . 215
Defects of judgement 96
Delfino, Version 524
Demurely wake the sleepers . . . 288
Demuring 318
DenouncM or denounce 207
DetenninM things to destiny . . . 205
Determine, in legal sense 271
Detest 308
Dido and her iEneas 307
Diminutives 297
Dingelstedt, Version 580
Dion Cassius 376
Disaster the cheeks 155
Discandering or discand3ring . . . 253
Disgested 106
Disguise » disorder by drink , . . 168
INDEX
609
PACB
Dispatch Enobarbus 272
Disposed 313
Dispunge 286
Disputation or dq>atation .... 244
Distractions 214
Dolabella, his history 6
Dolphin-like 345
Dolts or doits 297
Double comparative 204
Dowden, on the Play 481
" on Cleopatra 503
Drink their vapour 358
Droven, hapax legemenon .... 279
Drums demurely wake 288
Dryden, All for Love 409
Dumb or dumb'd 78
Dung or dug 334
Dungy earth 19
Duration of Action 386
YMi^' plough 66
Elements, the 159, 178, 365
Ellipsis 149
Em/<?r them 141
Embossed 300
Employ me to him 342
Enobarbus, a trisyllable f 233
" his history 3
Enow 60
Enter . . * 312
Entertainment 276
Envy 353
Epicurean, its Greek accent .... 86
Estridge 257
Euphrates, its accent 34
Everett, on Alfieri 542
'' on Mad, de Girardin . . . 569
Every =■ every one 28
Evidence or credence 53
Expedience 41
Extended -^^
Eyne, pink 166
Faiery 281
Fall not a tear 329, 344
Falliable 363
False One, The 516
False Soul of Egypt 295
39
Fast and loose
Fear, becomes a
Fear us
Feared by being lack' d
Feature
Feeders
Fever, used causatively
Fie upon • but yet '
Fishing, as a fault
Flaw
Fleet-/iw/
Flower-soft •
Fly forth of
Foils or soils
Foizon
Fool, a strumpet's
Yox^ in the quality of
For or 'fore
Forehead as low
Forespoke
Formall
Forth the haven
Frenzel, on the Play
Freytag, on the banquet scene . . .
YTOVEi=^ away from
From and of, distinction in their use .
Fronted
Frustrate
Fulvia, her history
Fumivall, on the Play
rAGB
296 124
144
141 249
251
135
58
233
254
"7
71 62
157
IS 29
160
186
207
134 290
495 152
MS 124
97 32s
17 481
Garboils 97
Gamett, on the Play 488
Gamier, Version 510
Gaudy night 256
Gautier, Criticism on Mad, de
Girardin 569
Generals, needless genitive .... 13
Genest, on Brookes Version . . . 547
" on CapelVs Version ... 586
Gervinus, on the Date 384
" on the Play 491
Ghosted 143
Giles, on Cleopatra 502
Gipsies lust 14
Mad. de Girardin, Version .... 564
Give me to drink 70
GOf peculiar significatiom 31
6io
INDEX
PAGE
Go to, go Xq=^ nonsense^ namense . 183
Gole for golc 283
Godwin, on Costume 595
« Stage Setting 596
Goetbe, on the Play 491
Good sin 324
Grand sea, his 230
Grates me 17
Greed (the verb) 146
Greek accent 86
Greet together 88
Griefs ^grievances loi
Grind the other 195
Guests or gests 280
Guizot, on the Play 495
H'^ache 279
H, 'tis made an 279
Hallam, on the Play 478
Halliwell-Phillipps, on the Date . 385
Hard, phonetic spelling 119
Harried 187
Hart-royal 373
Have or hate 169
Hazlitt, on the Play 477
He was, monosyllabic 181
Heart of loss 296
Heaviness 319
Heine, on Cleopatra 501
Heraud, on the Play 480
Here's sport indeed ....... 318
Hereditary opposed to purchased . . 61
Herod of Jewry 27, 183
Heyse, on the Play 492
Hill of Basan 251
His=iV:r 331
Hither-^M^-^ 198
Ho, ho, ho 263
Holding, the 166
Honour is sacred 99
Hoop should hold us staunch ... 103
Ho^, its peculiar meaning , ... 87
How = ^<> 38,312
How the news 36
Hudson, on the Play 483
Hugo, on the Play 496
Huswife Fortune 320
/ in t/>% dropped in pronunciation die talk will once be necessary .
mportune
mpress
n hoopt
ngram, on Metrical Tests . . .
nnocents
ntrinsecate
nversion = conditional sentence .
ron, put thine
t, referring to plural substantive
t owne
PACK
86
340 3"6 211 126
384 136
367 274
267
83 159
247
174 500
475 505
ack
aded ,
Mrs Jameson, on Cleopatra . . . " on Dryden . . .
" on Octavia . . .
Jodelle, Version 507
Johnson, on the Play 477
Jump 215
Juvenal, read by Shakespeare ... 82
Kemble, Version of i8ij .... 587
" Version 5S8
Knew £»r Know 69
Knight, on Actors 583
on CapeWs Version . . . 587
on the Date 382
Kotzebue, Version 557
u
«
La and lo 268
Labour mars * • . . 307
Lack nobility 137
Lacking =» lackeying 66
Lamprius 24
Lamdor .« 569
Lated 221
Launch = /tfffr^ 330
Laurel victory 57
Leave = /iW 332
Length 306
Lepidus, his history i
Leprosy 219
Less noble mind 30S
Lessons, a verb 221
Lethied dulness 86
Libertine in a field of Feasts ... 85
INDEX
6ll
PACS
Lichas 299
Lieutenantiy 225
Light 62
Live confoanded with lie 41
Liver 27
Lloyd, on the Play 479
Look't <;rtook't 189
Lottery 120
LouDsbury, on Dryden 476
" on the Play 487
Love or leave to part 42
Lowell, on Dryden 476
Lufft 219
Luxuriously 250
Mabie, on the Play 4S9
Mad Brutus 225
Mecsenas, his history 5
Made his will 188
Main 43
Make boot 260
Malone, on the Date 381
Mandragora 70
Mankind, its accent 283
Many other ways to die 259
Marmontel, Version 540
Massey, on Cleopatra 503
Matter whole you have to make it with 95
May, Version 521
Med'cine 74
Meered question 235
Melvil, Sir James 141, 184
Menas, his history 6
Menecrates, his history 6
Mens judgements ..**... 238
Merely 208
Messenger or messger 200
Mingle 79, 284
Mirth, a 61
'M\i&\vt'= messenger 98
Mocks the pauses 325
Modem 353
Modesty 136
Moody 128
M[orgues], Version 558
Morsel 250
Most ^'^ greatest 108
Motion or notion 122
PACK
Muliters 3lo
Music . . . under the Stage .... 265
Muss 247
Nak'd 341
Natture's piece 347
Needless genitive 13
Neere = «^^r 87
Negligent danger 204
Next Csesarion 253
Nice 255
Nickt 334
Noble spoken loo
Noise of a sea-fight 216
Noises it 206
None, a pronoun 48
Nor you thither 123
Nothing of our strife 99
'SMUxhtt ^ to make verses 1 76
Oblivion is a very Anthony .... 55
Occasion » n^^^ 151
Octavia, her history 9
Octavius, his relation to Julius Cixsar i
Odds 126
Odds is gone 323
0*re-count 145
Of, separating action from verb . . 33 Of and from, distinction in their
use 124, 199
0{= concerning^ about . . . .68,333
Of, after verbal nouns 83
Of=^^ 107,124
Oh 243
Oily palm 30
Olive, shall bear the 275
Omission of prepositions 61
*« of so after if 263
On =» causal after verbs of motion . 276
Onc^=' sometimes 340
One great or Our great 58
Onion-eyed 263
On my guard, came 276
On or upon, certain usage of . . . 127
O o' th' earth 343
Orbs 352
Ordinary II9
Orient, adjective 75
6l2
INDEX
PAGB
Ostentation or ostent 201
Other ways to die 259
Packt cards with Caesars 303
Pageant 302
Painted one way 142
Pales, a verb 161
PkUed 162
Pannelled 293
Pkrcel the sum 353
Participle expressing a condition . . 231
Participles, inflected 64
Particular 237
" thine own 286
" unusual use of 50
Paitizan 155
Pascal, Aphorism 495
Pauses, mocks the 325
Philips, on Local Colour 494
Piece of virtue 177
Photinus or Pothinus 208
Pinch one another by the disposition 154
Pink eyne 166
Pitifully disaster the cheeks .... 155
Rant-/w/ 153
VUkits — silver money 346
Pleached 310
Plebeian, its accent 297
Pledge, French description of Eng- lish custom 162
Plumpy 166
Plutarch 388
Points »m^/a/ tags 253
Pole, the soldiers 322
Pompeius, Sextus, his history ... 2
Vott^gate 269
Ports or Fleets 64
Possess or profess 165
Posture — ^/'i^iVMwr 359
Practise 92
Pray in aid 336
Pr^^nant 88
Trcsently ^ immediately 190
** "Shortly 194
Primal state 64
Prison or poison 356
Process 19
Proculeius, his history 6
PACK
Project = term of perspective . . . 349
Prorogue 86
Provided 356
Put colour in thy cheeks 309
Put thine iron on 267
Pyramid I57»34^
Pyramisis 158
Quail '« causative verb .... 229, 344
Quick comedians 358
Quick winds or quick minds ... 34
Race of Heaven 48
Rack dislimns 303
Ram or rain 132
Ranged 19
Ranges 234
Rarely base 352
Raught 288
Redundant object 331
Reeles = rrt/^i!f 59>i63»35S
'Kt^mtni'=^ government 206
Register 286
Relative pronouns 49
Remarkable 322
Reneages 13
"Rc^rts^ reporters 94
Reputation 227
Requires 231
Respective construction 176
Revel, as a monosyllable . . 59, 163, 358
Revels 358
Revolution lowring 38
Ribaudred nag 217
Riggish 120
Right royal 242
Rivality 194
River of Sidnis 109
Rome, pronunciation 42
Royal 373
S final, its omission and interpola'
i*^ 59. 304* 358
S substituted for st 52
Safe, a verb 50
Salad days 80
SzXx.^ wanton 84
Salt fish 131
S«y not, say Agrippa 104
Scald 358
SuDtly l8«
ScaiuM, iii Ais/ory 4
Sch\tgti, OK tie J'/ay I a
Scott, on Drydeit 473
ScmpalouE — eaftiau 49
Sea-<igfat 392
Sealing >7S.307
Sedlqr, VrrsUm 531
See it done 260
Seel our eyes or lips 249>35'
SeK-hwid 3*8
Sennet 156
Sequence of tenses 44
Shall and wlW 81, 373
Shards 177
Sbt iniltad <i/\itt 148
Shewes lo nun 40
Shirt of Nessus 399
Should 118,338
Sfasnld'M «Knr 338
Shover of gold 134
Shrewd .^. ... 385
Shrodenease .... T^'i ... 98
Shrond 344 .
Sidney, Maiy, Tram, cf Gamier . 513 Sidney, Sir Philip, Svmtut . . . 176
Signs well 365
Since — i^uW- 44
Sin, good 334
Site o( sorrow 314
Skotlowe, m tit Ptay 478
" tm Cltepatra 500
Sle^, was never yet Tor 287
So -^ cenJiiiana/ conJuKctieH . . . 236
Ton Soden, rertiim 553
Soldiers pole 332
Sooth-law 368
So tart a favoar To tnimpet .... 134
Sonmet, Vrrsum 560
Source of the Plot 387
Spaniel'd 393
Sptak^lo/gM 107. '45
Sphere ISS.3'S.344
Spirit . 37, 97, 133, 179, 338, 343, 370 3»i. 330. 354
EX 613
SplteU-i/JiU 168
Spon indeed 318
Square — fMurr// 88,339
Square... bj th' mle 131
Squares of war 335
Square lo her 109
Stain or sbain I9I
Stands upon 89
Stand up 43
SUpfer, w« lit Play 496
" BH Ottttviiu 506
StaUon 18s
Stomaching go
Stomach — r«m< 189
Strike the vessels 164
Stroy'd 337
SubjuncliTe used impeiatiTely . . . 105
Substitution of words 104
SaKn-'lofiuHisk 339
Suits w smites or shoots 347
Supper 118
Swan's down feather 179
Swell with the touches 1 17
Swinburne, on l/u Play 483
Sword Phillipan I3I
Swoond, /muin«'a/(Dn 387
Taine, off tit Play 495
Take io 18, 309, 346
Tall 143
Targes 146
Taurus, his kitlory 7
Tawny finn'd fishes I30
Tawny front 13
Teeth, from his 189
Ttftapa — Umfitrament 13
Tended her i' tb' eyes Ill
Terrene moon 353
Testamentaiy adoption 197
Thee-f'lBV 380
The full 0r Thy full 338
The or ye 353
Then er thence 3oS
llieme for yon 93
ThidiM 133
Thine iron on 36?
Think and die 333
Tbitber or hither 315
6c4
INDEX
ik d -awcrid 274.
i»- V^IP^
TifiiK » kamdy 260
Tune, chud 1 di' . . . . . . 1(14.
Tnirmrrf y^riTmrr 2x7
Too &c £. &v too-or ... J.3
in . - Jji
. • ... jQ''
Tiade in lorre 12$
TnBBpaHtxon n£ advcrbi ..... 26c
'* oi prepGsitiaiii 127
TrcBclL. ^m Antkemy 499
4X2 :ta^e perform-
591
Tripie pillar 14.
I'-i .... 393
303
Troth ifaouid be silent zci
JOXBC
Wa^ed jr Wand '.13 . . Wash 'Jie -yes
C pHl indicative fonm in ... . 13X
ITnanne Ena 305
Uncmtabie 97
Undid did izi
Unkiwd 201
CTnpoiicxcd 367
Upy the poor cbird is 194
Upon +7
UpOB^tKoAiifff <» 36
Upon ^r an, cotain use of ... . t27
Vnuh 296
Vanins, ^m. Vaxhis CoCyU ? . . . . 7
Vaiynig ihoie 3x5
VmhuIs 0r waauils ^
Vat. « Vemmmrd ? 213
Vcmidnu« kit huiory 3
Veria ending in -tt^ -i, and -d , . . 326
Vefpianck» M iiir i7tf^ 3^3
Vi» 346
Waat- WTai dioa rt Wlieei, ireaic White hand Wilde jTTiie Wni — .-uvr9/> ^uimrttr Will ^zjKtf :3iail . Winter, -m the Pfay Widow , . . . '
Witch
Widi-w - . .
•«
••
j^rral itrmts
Sits nf^anis .
Won't
WOf'.l ^^ ^ootcaiscont Ward 31 war . . . Work
Wonn of Nilns Woithieat self Wonid = rtriiktd Wrack rt^aHmw* Wyndham., on the Flay
LSI
£za
Yare
Yarriy . , . . Ye for yon . . . Yield yon . . . Yon reconciler . Your, eikicai use Yanr proof . . .
2CX
i8«
^3
-J
9*'
■ xrs 362
too
4^
211, 251, 304
"7 M9
[92 104
Zielunkiy am CkanmoJiifi wisJk
3"'..
^ 299^
3 bios Dig Ui lU
■TK
'.IS
a<f
,3
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