Ralph Waldo Emerson, comp. (1803–1882). Parnassus: An Anthology of Poetry. 1880.
Antony and the SoothsayerWilliam Shakespeare (15641616)
Antony.—Say to me,
Whose fortunes shall rise higher; Cæsar’s, or mine?
Soothsayer.—Cæsar’s.
Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side:
Thy daemon, that’s thy spirit which keeps thee, is
Noble, courageous, high, unmatchable,
Where Cæsar’s is not; but near him, thy angel
Becomes a Fear, as being o’erpowered; therefore
Make space enough between you.
Ant.—Speak this no more.
Soothsayer.—To none but thee; no more, but when to thee.
If thou dost play with him at any game,
Thou art sure to lose; and of that natural luck,
He beats thee ’gainst the odds; thy lustre thickens,
When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit
Is all afraid to govern thee near him;
But, be away, ’tis noble.
Ant.—Get thee gone:
Say to Ventidius, I would speak with him:
He hath spoken true: the very dice obey him;
And, in our sports, my better cunning faints
Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds:
His cocks do win the battles still of mine,
When it is all to nought; and his quails ever
Beat mine, inhooped at odds.