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From “Antony and Cleopatra,” Act II. Sc. 2.
ENOBARBUS.—The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne, | |
| Burned on the water: the poop was beaten gold; | |
| Purple the sails, and so perfumèd that | |
| The winds were lovesick with them; the oars were silver, | |
| Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made | 5 |
| The water, which they beat, to follow faster, | |
| As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, | |
| It beggared all description: she did lie | |
| In her pavilion (cloth-of-gold of tissue), | |
| O’erpicturing that Venus, where we see | 10 |
| The fancy outwork nature; on each side her | |
| Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, | |
| With divers-colored fans, whose wind did seem | |
| To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, | |
And what they undid, did.
AGRIPPA.— O, rare for Antony! | 15 |
| ENO.—Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, | |
| So many mermaids, tended her i’ the eyes, | |
| And made their bends adornings: at the helm | |
| A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle | |
| Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, | 20 |
| That yarely frame the office. From the barge | |
| A strange invisible perfume hits the sense | |
| Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast | |
| Her people out upon her; and Antony, | |
| Enthronèd in the market-place, did sit alone, | 25 |
| Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy, | |
| Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, | |
And made a gap in nature.
AGR.— Rare Egyptian! | |
| ENO.—Upon her landing, Antony sent to her, | |
| Invited her to supper: she replied, | 30 |
| It should be better he became her guest, | |
| Which she entreated. Our courteous Antony, | |
| Whom ne’er the word of “No” woman heard speak, | |
| Being barbered ten times o’er, goes to the feast; | |
| And, for his ordinary, pays his heart | 35 |
For what his eyes eat only.
AGR.— Royal wench!* * * * * | |
| MECÆNAS.—Now Antony must leave her utterly. | |
| ENO.—Never; he will not: | |
| Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale | |
| Her infinite variety: other women cloy | 40 |
| The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry | |
| Where most she satisfies. For vilest things | |
| Become themselves in her; that the holy priests | |
| Bless her when she is riggish. | |
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