more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the cafe were to be lamented: this grief is crowned with confolation; your old fmock brings forth a new petticoat, and, indeed, the tears live in an onion that should water this forrow.

Ant. The bufinefs, fhe hath broached in the State, Cannot endure my absence.

Eno. And the business, you have broach'd here, cannot be without you; efpecially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your aboad.

Ant. No more light anfwers: let our Officers
Have notice what we purpose. I fhall break
The cause of our expedience to the Queen,
And get her leave to part. For not alone
The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches,
Do ftrongly speak t'us; but the letters too
Of many our contriving friends in Rome
Petition us at home. Sextus Pompeius

Hath giv'n the Dare to Cafar, and commands
The Empire of the Sea. Our flipp'ry People,
(Whofe love is never link'd to the deferver,
'Till his deferts are paft,) begin to throw
Pompey the Great and all his Dignities
Upon his Son; who high in name and pow'r,
Higher than both in blood and life, ftands up
For the main Soldier; whofe quality going on,
The fides o'th' world may danger. Much is breeding;
(8) Which, like the Courfer's hair, hath yet but life,
And

(8) Which, like the Courfer's hair, &c.] This alludes to an old Opinion, which obtain'd among the Vulgar, but which was too abfurd to have the Sanction either of Philofophers or Natural Hiftorians, that the Hair of a Horse in corrupted Water would take Life, and become an Animal. Perhaps, I may have met with our Author's Oracle for this abfurd Opinion. Holingshead, in his Defcription of England, Vol. I. p. 224, has this Remark. "I might finally tell you how that in fenny Rivers Sides if you cut a Turf, and lay it with the Grafs downwards upon the Earth, in fuch fort as the Water may touch it as it paffeth by, you fhall have a Brood of Eels; it would feem a Wonder, and yet it is believ'd with no less Affurance of fome, than That an Horfe-hair, laid in a Pail full of the like Water, will in a fort time fir and become a living Creature. But fith the Certainty of thefe Things is rather prov'd by Few, thin the Certainty of them

"know

And not a ferpent's poifon. Say our pleasure,
To fuch whole place is under us, requires
Our quick remove from hence.

Eno. I'll do't.

[Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Iras.

Cleo. Where is he?

Char. I did not fee him fince.

Cleo. See, where he is, who's with him, what he
do's.

I did not fend you:-If you find him fad,
Say, I am dancing: if in mirth, report,
That I am fudden fick. Quick, and return.

Ghar. Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, You do not hold the method to enforce

The like from him.

Cleo. What fhould I do, I do not?

Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in nothing.

Cleo. Thou teacheft, like a fool: the way to lofe him. Char. Tempt him not fo, too far. I wish, forbear; In time we hate That, which we often fear.

Enter Antony.

But here comes Antony.

Cleo. I'm fick, and fullen.

Ant. I am forry to give breathing to my purpose.
Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian, I fhall fall;

It cannot be thus long, the fides of nature

Will not fuftain it.

Ant. Now, my dearest Queen,

[Seeming to faint.

Cleo. Pray you, ftand farther from me.

Ant. What's the matter?

Cleo. I know, by that fame eye, there's fome good

news.

What fays the marry'd Woman? you may go;

"known to many, I let it pafs at this Time."

Shakespeare, as a

Poet, had nothing to do with the Truth of the Experiment, fo he could furnish out a fine Simily from the receiv'd Tradition.

'Would,

'Would, she had never given you leave to come!
Let her not fay, 'tis I that keep you here,
I have no pow'r upon you: hers you are.
Ant. The Gods best know,

Cleo. Oh, never was there Queen
So mightily betray'd; yet at the firft
I faw the treafons planted.

Ant. Cleopatra,

Cleo. Why should I think, you can be mine, and

true,

Though you with fwearing fhake the throned Gods,
Who have been falfe to Fulvia? riotous madness,
To be entangled with these mouth-made vows,
Which break themselves in fwearing!

Ant. Moft fweet Queen,.

Cleo. Nay, pray you, feek no colour for your Going. But bid farewel, and go: when you fued ftaying, Then was the time for words, no Going, then; Eternity was in our lips and eyes,

Blifs in our brows bent, none our parts fo poor,
But was a race of heav'n. They are so ftill,
Or thou, the greatest foldier of the world,
Art turn'd the greatest liar.

Ant. How now, lady?

Cheo. I would I had thy inches, thou should'st know, There were a heart in Egypt.

Ant. Hear me, Queen;

The ftrong neceffity of time commands

Our fervices awhile; but my full heart

Remains in Ufe with you. Our Italy

Shines o'er with civil fwords; Sextus Pompeius
Makes his Approaches to the Port of Rome.
Equality of two domeftick Pow'rs

Breeds fcrupulous faction; the hated, grown to ftrength,

Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey,
Rich in his father's Honour, creeps apace
Into the hearts of fuch as have not thriv'n
Upon the present State, whofe numbers threaten;
And Quietness, grown sick of Reft, would purge

By

By any defperate change. My more particular, (9) And That which most with you should falve my Going, Is Fulvia's death.

Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me free

dom,

It does from childishness. Can Fulvia die?
Ant. She's dead, my Queen.

Look here, and at thy foveraign leisure read
The garboyls the awak'ds at the laft, beft.
See, when, and where fhe died.

Cleo. O moft falfe love!

Where be the facred vials thou should'st fill (10)

(9)

My more particular,

And that which most with you should fave my Going,
Is Fulvia's Death]

With

Thus all the more modern Editions: the 1ft and 2d Folio's read, fafe: All corruptedly. Antony is giving feveral reasons to Cleopatra, which make his Departure from Egypt abfolutely neceffary; moft of them, reasons of State; but the Death of Fulvia, his Wife, was a particular and private Call, which demanded his Prefence in Italy. But the printed Copies would rather make us believe, that Fulvia's Death fhould prevent, or fave him the Trouble of going. The Text, in this respect, I dare engage, runs counter to its Master's Meaning. Cleopatra is jealous of Antony's Abfence; and fufpicious that he is feeking Colours for his Going. Antony replies to her Doubts, with the Reasons that obliged him to be abfent for a Time; and tells her, that, as his Wife Fulvia is dead, and fo fhe has no Rival to be jealous of, that Circumftance fhould be his beft Plea and Excufe, and have the greatest Weight with her for his Going. Who does not fee now, that it ought to be read as I have reform'd the Text?

My more particular,

And That which most with you should falve my Going,
Is Fulvia's Death.

So, before in Coriolanus.

Come, go with us ; fpeak fair; you may falve fo

Not what is dang'rous prefent, but the Lofs
Of what is past.

(10) Where be the facred Vials thou fhould'ft fill

With forrowful Water?]

This is one pregnant Inftance of Shakespeare's Acquaintance with Antiquity. He plainly hints here at the Lacrymatories in ufe amongst the Greeks and Romans. And there is another Inftance afterwards, no lefs pregnant, in this very Play;

Tu bumbly fignify what in his Name,
That magical Word of War, we have effected.

Nothing

With forrowful water? now I fee, I fee,
In Fulvia's death, how mine fhall be receiv'd.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know
The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,
As you thall give th' advices. By the fire,.
That quickens Nilus' flime, I go from hence
Thy foldier, fervant, making peace or war,
As thou affect'st.

Cleo. Cut my lace, Charmian, come;
But let it be, I'm quickly ill, and well,
So, Antony loves.

Ant. My precious Queen, forbear,

And give true evidence to his love, which stands
An honourable trial.

Cleo. So Fulvia told me.

I pr'ythee, turn afide, and weep for her;
Then bid adieu to me and fay, the tears
Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one Scene
Of excellent diffembling, and let it look
Like perfect honour.

Ant. You'll heat my blood; no more.

Cleo. You can do better yet; but this is meetly.
Ant. Now by my fword

Cleo. And target. Still he mends:

--

But this is not the beft. Look, pr'ythee, Charmian,
How this Herculean Roman does become

The carriage of his chafe.

Ant. I'll leave you, lady.

Nothing can give one a truer Idea of what the Romans meant by their
Aufpicium Ducis, than this magical Word of War: for they did indeed
believe there was a kind of Magick in it, as we may fee by all their
Hiftorians.
Mr. Warburton.

To thefe Lacrymatories above mention'd, I obferve, Beaumont and
Fletcher have likewise alluded in a Dirge in their Two Noble Kinsmen.
Our Dole more deadly looks than dying,
Balms, and Gums, and heavy Cheers,
Sacred Vials fill'd with Tears,

And Clamours thro' the wild Air flying.

Thefe Ampulla Lacrymales are mention'd by Licetus in his Book De Lucernis Antiquorum reconditis; and I have feen of Them myself among the Curiofities of my late learned and honour'd Friend, Dr. Woodward.

Cleo.