Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the east,
Say thou, shall call her mistress.' So he nodded,
And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed, 48
Who neigh'd so high that what I would have spoke
Was beastly dumb'd by him.
Cleo. What was he, sad or merry?
Alex. Like to the time o' the year between the extremes
Of hot and cold; he was nor sad nor merry. 52
Cleo. O well-divided disposition! Note him,
Note him, good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him:
He was not sad, for he would shine on those
That make their looks by his; he was not merry 56
Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay
In Egypt with his joy; but between both:
O heavenly mingle! Be'st thou sad or merry,
The violence of either thee becomes, 60
So does it no man else. Mett'st thou my posts?
Alex. Ay, madam, twenty several messengers.
Why do you send so thick?
Cleo. Who's born that day
When I forget to send to Antony, 64
Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian.
Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian,
Ever love Cæsar so?
Char. O! that brave Cæsar.
Cleo. Be chok'd with such another emphasis! 68
Say the brave Antony.
Char. The valiant Cæsar!
Cleo. By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth,
If thou with Cæsar paragon again
My man of men.
48 arm-gaunt: with gaunt limbs (?); cf. n.
71 paragon: compare
