IN the following pages I offer nothing more than simple facts, plain
arguments, and common sense; and have no other preliminaries to
settle with the reader, than that he will divest himself of prejudice
and prepossession, and suffer his reason and his feelings to
determine for themselves; that he will put ON, or rather that he
will not put OFF, the true character of a man, and generously
enlarge his views beyond the present day.

Volumes have been written on the subject of the struggle between
England and America. Men of all ranks have embarked in the
controversy, from different motives, and with various designs; but
all have been ineffectual, and the period of debate is closed. Arms,
as the last resource, decide the contest; the appeal was the choice
of the king, and the continent hath accepted the challenge.

It hath been reported of the late Mr Pelham (who tho' an able
minister was not without his faults) that on his being attacked in
the house of commons, on the score, that his measures were only of a
temporary kind, replied, "THEY WILL LAST MY TIME." Should a thought
so fatal and unmanly possess the colonies in the present contest, the
name of ancestors will be remembered by future generations with
detestation.

The sun never shined on a cause of greater worth. 'Tis not the
affair of a city, a country, a province, or a kingdom, but of a
continent--of at least one eighth part of the habitable globe. 'Tis
not the concern of a day, a year, or an age; posterity are virtually
involved in the contest, and will be more or less affected, even to
the end of time, by the proceedings now. Now is the seed time of
continental union, faith and honor. The least fracture now will be
like a name engraved with the point of a pin on the tender rind of a
young oak; The wound will enlarge with the tree, and posterity read
it in full grown characters.

By referring the matter from argument to arms, a new era for
politics is struck; a new method of thinking hath arisen. All plans,
proposals, &c. prior to the nineteenth of April, I. E. to the
commencement of hostilities, are like the almanacks of the last year;
which, though proper then, are superceded and useless now. Whatever
was advanced by the advocates on either side of the question then,
terminated in one and the same point, viz. a union with
Great Britain; the only difference between the parties was the method
of effecting it; the one proposing force, the other friendship; but
it hath so far happened that the first hath failed, and the second
hath withdrawn her influence.

As much hath been said of the advantages of reconciliation, which,
like an agreeable dream, hath passed away and left us as we were, it
is but right, that we should examine the contrary side of the
argument, and inquire into some of the many material injuries which
these colonies sustain, and always will sustain, by being connected
with, and dependant on Great Britain. To examine that connexion and
dependance, on the principles of nature and common sense, to see what
we have to trust to, if separated, and what we are to expect, if
dependant.

I have heard it asserted by some, that as America hath flourished
under her former connexion with Great Britain, that the same
connexion is necessary towards her future happiness, and will always
have the same effect. Nothing can be more fallacious than this kind
of argument. We may as well assert that because a child has thrived
upon milk, that it is never to have meat, or that the first twenty
years of our lives is to become a precedent for the next twenty. But
even this is admitting more than is true, for I answer roundly, that
America would have flourished as much, and probably much more, had no
European power had any thing to do with her. The commerce, by which
she hath enriched herself are the necessaries of life, and will
always have a market while eating is the custom of Europe.

But she has protected us, say some. That she hath engrossed us is
true, and defended the continent at our expence as well as her own is
admitted, and she would have defended Turkey from the same motive,
viz. the sake of trade and dominion.

Alas, we have been long led away by ancient prejudices, and made
large sacrifices to superstition. We have boasted the protection of
Great Britain, without considering, that her motive was INTEREST
not ATTACHMENT; that she did not protect us from OUR ENEMIES on
OUR ACCOUNT, but from HER ENEMIES on HER OWN ACCOUNT, from
those who had no quarrel with us on any OTHER ACCOUNT, and who will
always be our enemies on the SAME ACCOUNT. Let Britain wave her
pretensions to the continent, or the continent throw off the
dependance, and we should be at peace with France and Spain were they
at war with Britain. The miseries of Hanover last war ought to warn
us against connexions.

It hath lately been asserted in parliament, that the colonies have
no relation to each other but through the parent country, I. E.
that Pennsylvania and the Jerseys, and so on for the rest, are sister
colonies by the way of England; this is certainly a very round-about
way of proving relationship, but it is the nearest and only true way
of proving enemyship, if I may so call it. France and Spain never
were, nor perhaps ever will be our enemies as AMERICANS, but as our
being the SUBJECTS OF GREAT BRITAIN.

But Britain is the parent country, say some. Then the more shame
upon her conduct. Even brutes do not devour their young, nor savages
make war upon their families; wherefore the assertion, if true, turns
to her reproach; but it happens not to be true, or only partly so,
and the phrase PARENT or MOTHER COUNTRY hath been jesuitically
adopted by the king and his parasites, with a low papistical design
of gaining an unfair bias on the credulous weakness of our minds.
Europe, and not England, is the parent country of America. This new
world hath been the asylum for the persecuted lovers of civil and
religious liberty from EVERY PART of Europe. Hither have they fled,
not from the tender embraces of the mother, but from the cruelty of
the monster; and it is so far true of England, that the same tyranny
which drove the first emigrants from home, pursues their descendants
still.

In this extensive quarter of the globe, we forget the narrow limits
of three hundred and sixty miles (the extent of England) and carry
our friendship on a larger scale; we claim brotherhood with every
European christian, and triumph in the generosity of the sentiment.

It is pleasant to observe by what regular gradations we surmount
the force of local prejudice, as we enlarge our acquaintance with the
world. A man born in any town in England divided into parishes, will
naturally associate most with his fellow parishioners (because their
interests in many cases will be common) and distinguish him by the
name of NEIGHBOUR; if he meet him but a few miles from home, he
drops the narrow idea of a street, and salutes him by the name of
TOWNSMAN; if he travel out of the county, and meet him in any
other, he forgets the minor divisions of street and town, and calls
him COUNTRYMAN; i. e. COUNTY-MAN; but if in their foreign
excursions they should associate in France or any other part of
EUROPE, their local remembrance would be enlarged into that of
ENGLISHMEN. And by a just parity of reasoning, all Europeans
meeting in America, or any other quarter of the globe, are
COUNTRYMEN; for England, Holland, Germany, or Sweden, when compared
with the whole, stand in the same places on the larger scale, which
the divisions of street, town, and county do on the smaller ones;
distinctions too limited for continental minds. Not one third of the
inhabitants, even of this province, are of English descent. Wherefore
I reprobate the phrase of parent or mother country applied to England
only, as being false, selfish, narrow and ungenerous.

But admitting, that we were all of English descent, what does it
amount to? Nothing. Britain, being now an open enemy, extinguishes
every other name and title: And to say that reconciliation is our
duty, is truly farcical. The first king of England, of the present
line (William the Conqueror) was a Frenchman, and half the Peers of
England are descendants from the same country; wherefore, by the same
method of reasoning, England ought to be governed by France.

Much hath been said of the united strength of Britain and the
colonies, that in conjunction they might bid defiance to the world.
But this is mere presumption; the fate of war is uncertain, neither
do the expressions mean any thing; for this continent would never
suffer itself to be drained of inhabitants, to support the British
arms in either Asia, Africa, or Europe.

Besides, what have we to do with setting the world at defiance? Our
plan is commerce, and that, well attended to, will secure us the
peace and friendship of all Europe; because, it is the interest of
all Europe to have America a FREE PORT. Her trade will always be a
protection, and her barrenness of gold and silver secure her from
invaders.

I challenge the warmest advocate for reconciliation, to shew, a
single advantage that this continent can reap, by being connected
with Great Britain. I repeat the challenge, not a single advantage is
derived. Our corn will fetch its price in any market in Europe, and
our imported goods must be paid for buy them where we will.

But the injuries and disadvantages we sustain by that connection,
are without number; and our duty to mankind at large, as well as to
ourselves, instruct us to renounce the alliance: Because, any
submission to, or dependance on Great Britain, tends directly to
involve this continent in European wars and quarrels; and sets us at
variance with nations, who would otherwise seek our friendship, and
against whom, we have neither anger nor complaint. As Europe is our
market for trade, we ought to form no partial connection with any
part of it. It is the true interest of America to steer clear of
European contentions, which she never can do, while by her dependance
on Britain, she is made the make-weight in the scale on British
politics.

Europe is too thickly planted with kingdoms to be long at peace,
and whenever a war breaks out between England and any foreign power,
the trade of America goes to ruin, BECAUSE OF HER CONNECTION WITH
BRITAIN. The next war may not turn out like the last, and should it
not, the advocates for reconciliation now will be wishing for
separation then, because, neutrality in that case, would be a safer
convoy than a man of war. Every thing that is right or natural pleads
for separation. The blood of the slain, the weeping voice of nature
cries, 'TIS TIME TO PART. Even the distance at which the Almighty
hath placed England and America, is a strong and natural proof, that
the authority of the one, over the other, was never the design of
Heaven. The time likewise at which the continent was discovered, adds
weight to the argument, and the manner in which it was peopled
encreases the force of it. The reformation was preceded by the
discovery of America, as if the Almighty graciously meant to open a
sanctuary to the persecuted in future years, when home should afford
neither friendship nor safety.

The authority of Great Britain over this continent, is a form of
government, which sooner or later must have an end: And a serious
mind can draw no true pleasure by looking forward, under the painful
and positive conviction, that what he calls "the present
constitution" is merely temporary. As parents, we can have no joy,
knowing that THIS GOVERNMENT is not sufficiently lasting to ensure
any thing which we may bequeath to posterity: And by a plain method
of argument, as we are running the next generation into debt, we
ought to do the work of it, otherwise we use them meanly and
pitifully. In order to discover the line of our duty rightly, we
should take our children in our hand, and fix our station a few years
farther into life; that eminence will present a prospect, which a few
present fears and prejudices conceal from our sight.

Though I would carefully avoid giving unnecessary offence, yet I am
inclined to believe, that all those who espouse the doctrine of
reconciliation, may be included within the following descriptions.
Interested men, who are not to be trusted; weak men, who CANNOT
see; prejudiced men, who WILL NOT see; and a certain set of
moderate men, who think better of the European world than it
deserves; and this last class, by an ill-judged deliberation, will be
the cause of more calamities to this continent, than all the other
three.

It is the good fortune of many to live distant from the scene of
sorrow; the evil is not sufficiently brought to THEIR doors to make
THEM feel the precariousness with which all American property is
possessed. But let our imaginations transport us for a few moments to
Boston, that seat of wretchedness will teach us wisdom, and instruct
us for ever to renounce a power in whom we can have no trust. The
inhabitants of that unfortunate city, who but a few months ago were
in ease and affluence, have now, no other alternative than to stay
and starve, or turn out to beg. Endangered by the fire of their
friends if they continue within the city, and plundered by the
soldiery if they leave it. In their present condition they are
prisoners without the hope of redemption, and in a general attack for
their relief, they would be exposed to the fury of both armies.

Men of passive tempers look somewhat lightly over the offences of
Britain, and, still hoping for the best, are apt to call out, "COME,
COME, WE SHALL BE FRIENDS AGAIN, FOR ALL THIS." But examine the
passions and feelings of mankind, Bring the doctrine of
reconciliation to the touchstone of nature, and then tell me, whether
you can hereafter love, honour, and faithfully serve the power that
hath carried fire and sword into your land? If you cannot do all
these, then are you only deceiving yourselves, and by your delay
bringing ruin upon posterity. Your future connection with Britain,
whom you can neither love nor honour, will be forced and unnatural,
and being formed only on the plan of present convenience, will in a
little time fall into a relapse more wretched than the first. But if
you say, you can still pass the violations over, then I ask, Hath
your house been burnt? Hath your property been destroyed before your
face? Are your wife and children destitute of a bed to lie on, or
bread to live on? Have you lost a parent or a child by their hands,
and yourself the ruined and wretched survivor? If you have not, then
are you not a judge of those who have. But if you have, and still can
shake hands with the murderers, then you are unworthy of the name of
husband, father, friend, or lover, and whatever may be your rank or
title in life, you have the heart of a coward, and the spirit of a
sycophant.

This is not inflaming or exaggerating matters, but trying them by
those feelings and affections which nature justifies, and without
which, we should be incapable of discharging the social duties of
life, or enjoying the felicities of it. I mean not to exhibit horror
for the purpose of provoking revenge, but to awaken us from fatal and
unmanly slumbers, that we may pursue determinately some fixed object.
It is not in the power of Britain or of Europe to conquer America, if
she do not conquer herself by DELAY and TIMIDITY. The present
winter is worth an age if rightly employed, but if lost or neglected,
the whole continent will partake of the misfortune; and there is no
punishment which that man will not deserve, be he who, or what, or
where he will, that may be the means of sacrificing a season so
precious and useful.

It is repugnant to reason, to the universal order of things to all
examples from former ages, to suppose, that this continent can longer
remain subject to any external power. The most sanguine in Britain
does not think so. The utmost stretch of human wisdom cannot, at this
time, compass a plan short of separation, which can promise the
continent even a year's security. Reconciliation is NOW a falacious
dream. Nature hath deserted the connexion, and Art cannot supply her
place. For, as Milton wisely expresses, "never can true reconcilement
grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep."

Every quiet method for peace hath been ineffectual. Our prayers
have been rejected with disdain; and only tended to convince us, that
nothing flatters vanity, or confirms obstinacy in Kings more than
repeated petitioning--and noting hath contributed more than that very
measure to make the Kings of Europe absolute: Witness Denmark and
Sweden. Wherefore, since nothing but blows will do, for God's sake,
let us come to a final separation, and not leave the next generation
to be cutting throats, under the violated unmeaning names of parent
and child.

To say, they will never attempt it again is idle and visionary, we
thought so at the repeal of the stamp act, yet a year or two
undeceived us; as well may we suppose that nations, which have been
once defeated, will never renew the quarrel.

As to government matters, it is not in the power of Britain to do
this continent justice: The business of it will soon be too weighty,
and intricate, to be managed with any tolerable degree of
convenience, by a power, so distant from us, and so very ignorant of
us; for if they cannot conquer us, they cannot govern us. To be
always running three or four thousand miles with a tale or a
petition, waiting four or five months for an answer, which when
obtained requires five or six more to explain it in, will in a few
years be looked upon as folly and childishness--There was a time when
it was proper, and there is a proper time for it to cease.

Small islands not capable of protecting themselves, are the proper
objects for kingdoms to take under their care; but there is something
very absurd, in supposing a continent to be perpetually governed by
an island. In no instance hath nature made the satellite larger than
its primary planet, and as England and America, with respect to each
other, reverses the common order of nature, it is evident they belong
to different systems: England to Europe, America to itself.

I am not induced by motives of pride, party, or resentment to
espouse the doctrine of separation and independance; I am clearly,
positively, and conscientiously persuaded that it is the true
interest of this continent to be so; that every thing short of THAT
is mere patchwork, that it can afford no lasting felicity,--that it is
leaving the sword to our children, and shrinking back at a time,
when, a little more, a little farther, would have rendered this
continent the glory of the earth.

As Britain hath not manifested the least inclination towards a
compromise, we may be assured that no terms can be obtained worthy
the acceptance of the continent, or any ways equal to the expense of
blood and treasure we have been already put to.

The object, contended for, ought always to bear some just
proportion to the expense. The removal of North, or the whole
detestable junto, is a matter unworthy the millions we have expended.
A temporary stoppage of trade, was an inconvenience, which would have
sufficiently ballanced the repeal of all the acts complained of, had
such repeals been obtained; but if the whole continent must take up
arms, if every man must be a soldier, it is scarcely worth our while
to fight against a contemptible ministry only. Dearly, dearly, do we
pay for the repeal of the acts, if that is all we fight for; for in a
just estimation, it is as great a folly to pay a Bunker-hill price
for law, as for land. As I have always considered the independancy of
this continent, as an event, which sooner or later must arrive, so
from the late rapid progress of the continent to maturity, the event
could not be far off. Wherefore, on the breaking out of hostilities,
it was not worth the while to have disputed a matter, which time
would have finally redressed, unless we meant to be in earnest;
otherwise, it is like wasting an estate on a suit at law, to regulate
the trespasses of a tenant, whose lease is just expiring. No man was
a warmer wisher for reconciliation than myself, before the fatal
nineteenth of April 1775,  but the moment the event of that day was
made known, I rejected the hardened, sullen tempered Pharaoh of
England for ever; and disdain the wretch, that with the pretended
title of FATHER OF HIS PEOPLE, can unfeelingly hear of their
slaughter, and composedly sleep with their blood upon his soul.

But admitting that matters were now made up, what would be the
event? I answer, the ruin of the continent. And that for several
reasons.

FIRST. The powers of governing still remaining in the hands of
the king, he will have a negative over the whole legislation of this
continent. And as he hath shewn himself such an inveterate enemy to
liberty, and discovered such a thirst for arbitrary power; is he, or
is he not, a proper man to say to these colonies, "YOU SHALL MAKE NO
LAWS BUT WHAT I PLEASE." And is there any inhabitant in America so
ignorant, as not to know, that according to what is called the
PRESENT CONSTITUTION, that this continent can make no laws but what
the king gives it leave to; and is there any man so unwise, as not to
see, that (considering what has happened) he will suffer no law to be
made here, but such as suit HIS purpose. We may be as effectually
enslaved by the want of laws in America, as by submitting to laws
made for us in England. After matters are made up (as it is called)
can there be any doubt, but the whole power of the crown will be
exerted, to keep this continent as low and humble as possible?
Instead of going forward we shall go backward, or be perpetually
quarrelling or ridiculously petitioning. We are already greater than
the king wishes us to be, and will he not hereafter endeavour to make
us less? To bring the matter to one point. Is the power who is
jealous of our prosperity, a proper power to govern us? Whoever says
NO to this question is an INDEPENDANT, for independancy means no
more, than, whether we shall make our own laws, or, whether the king,
the greatest enemy this continent hath, or can have, shall tell us,
"THERE SHALL BE NO LAWS BUT SUCH AS I LIKE."

But the king you will say has a negative in England; the people
there can make no laws without his consent. In point of right and
good order, there is something very ridiculous, that a youth of
twenty-one (which hath often happened) shall say to several millions
of people, older and wiser than himself, I forbid this or that act of
yours to be law. But in this place I decline this sort of reply,
though I will never cease to expose the absurdity of it, and only
answer, that England being the King's residence, and America not so,
make quite another case. The king's negative HERE is ten times more
dangerous and fatal than it can be in England, for THERE he will
scarcely refuse his consent to a bill for putting England into as
strong a state of defence as possible, and in America he would never
suffer such a bill to be passed.

America is only a secondary object in the system of British
politics, England consults the good of THIS country, no farther
than it answers her OWN purpose. Wherefore, her own interest leads
her to suppress the growth of OURS in every case which doth not
promote her advantage, or in the least interferes with it. A pretty
state we should soon be in under such a second-hand government,
considering what has happened! Men do not change from enemies to
friends by the alteration of a name: And in order to shew that
reconciliation NOW is a dangerous doctrine, I affirm, THAT IT
WOULD BE POLICY IN THE KING AT THIS TIME, TO REPEAL THE ACTS FOR THE
SAKE OF REINSTATING HIMSELF IN THE GOVERNMENT OF THE PROVINCES; in
order that HE MAY ACCOMPLISH BY CRAFT AND SUBTILITY, IN THE LONG RUN,
WHAT HE CANNOT DO BY FORCE AND VIOLENCE IN THE SHORT ONE.
Reconciliation and ruin are nearly related.

SECONDLY. That as even the best terms, which we can expect to
obtain, can amount to no more than a temporary expedient, or a kind
of government by guardianship, which can last no longer than till the
colonies come of age, so the general face and state of things, in the
interim, will be unsettled and unpromising. Emigrants of property
will not choose to come to a country whose form of government hangs
but by a thread, and who is every day tottering on the brink of
commotion and disturbance; and numbers of the present inhabitants
would lay hold of the interval, to dispose of their effects, and quit
the continent.

But the most powerful of all arguments, is, that nothing but
independance, i. e. a continental form of government, can keep the
peace of the continent and preserve it inviolate from civil wars. I
dread the event of a reconciliation with Britain now, as it is more
than probable, that it will followed by a revolt somewhere or other,
the consequences of which may be far more fatal than all the malice
of Britain.

Thousands are already ruined by British barbarity; (thousands more
will probably suffer the same fate.) Those men have other feelings
than us who have nothing suffered. All they NOW possess is liberty,
what they before enjoyed is sacrificed to its service, and having
nothing more to lose, they disdain submission. Besides, the general
temper of the colonies, towards a British government, will be like
that of a youth, who is nearly out of his time; they will care very
little about her. And a government which cannot preserve the peace,
is no government at all, and in that case we pay our money for
nothing; and pray what is it that Britain can do, whose power will be
wholly on paper, should a civil tumult break out the very day after
reconciliation? I have heard some men say, many of whom I believe
spoke without thinking, that they dreaded an independance, fearing
that it would produce civil wars. It is but seldom that our first
thoughts are truly correct, and that is the case here; for there are
ten times more to dread from a patched up connexion than from
independance. I make the sufferers case my own, and I protest, that
were I driven from house and home, my property destroyed, and my
circumstances ruined, that as a man, sensible of injuries, I could
never relish the doctrine of reconciliation, or consider myself bound
thereby.

The colonies have manifested such a spirit of good order and
obedience to continental government, as is sufficient to make every
reasonable person easy and happy on that head. No man can assign the
least pretence for his fears, on any other grounds, that such as are
truly childish and ridiculous, viz. that one colony will be striving
for superiority over another.

Where there are no distinctions there can be no superiority,
perfect equality affords no temptation. The republics of Europe are
all (and we may say always) in peace. Holland and Swisserland are
without wars, foreign or domestic: Monarchical governments, it is
true, are never long at rest; the crown itself is a temptation to
enterprizing ruffians at HOME; and that degree of pride and
insolence ever attendant on regal authority, swells into a rupture
with foreign powers, in instances, where a republican government, by
being formed on more natural principles, would negotiate the mistake.

If there is any true cause of fear respecting independance, it is
because no plan is yet laid down. Men do not see their way
out--Wherefore, as an opening into that business, I offer the
following hints; at the same time modestly affirming, that I have no
other opinion of them myself, than that they may be the means of
giving rise to something better. Could the straggling thoughts of
individuals be collected, they would frequently form materials for
wise and able men to improve into useful matter.

Let the assemblies be annual, with a President only. The
representation more equal. Their business wholly domestic, and
subject to the authority of a Continental Congress.

Let each colony be divided into six, eight, or ten, convenient
districts, each district to send a proper number of delegates to
Congress, so that each colony send at least thirty. The whole number
in Congress will be least 390. Each Congress to sit and to choose
a president by the following method. When the delegates are met, let
a colony be taken from the whole thirteen colonies by lot, after
which, let the whole Congress choose (by ballot) a president from out
of the delegates of THAT province. In the next Congress, let a
colony be taken by lot from twelve only, omitting that colony from
which the president was taken in the former Congress, and so
proceeding on till the whole thirteen shall have had their proper
rotation. And in order that nothing may pass into a law but what is
satisfactorily just, not less than three fifths of the Congress to be
called a majority. He that will promote discord, under a government
so equally formed as this, would have joined Lucifer in his revolt.

But as there is a peculiar delicacy, from whom, or in what manner,
this business must first arise, and as it seems most agreeable and
consistent that it should come from some intermediate body between
the governed and the governors, that is, between the Congress and the
people, let a CONTINENTAL CONFERENCE be held, in the following
manner, and for the following purpose.

A committee of twenty-six members of Congress, viz. two for each
colony. Two members for each House of Assembly, or Provincial
Convention; and five representatives of the people at large, to be
chosen in the capital city or town of each province, for, and in
behalf of the whole province, by as many qualified voters as shall
think proper to attend from all parts of the province for that
purpose; or, if more convenient, the representatives may be chosen in
two or three of the most populous parts thereof. In this conference,
thus assembled, will be united, the two grand principles of business,
KNOWLEDGE and POWER. The members of Congress, Assemblies, or
Conventions, by having had experience in national concerns, will be
able and useful counsellors, and the whole, being impowered by the
people, will have a truly legal authority.

The conferring members being met, let their business be to frame a
CONTINENTAL CHARTER, or Charter of the United Colonies; (answering to
what is called the Magna Charta of England) fixing the number and
manner of choosing members of Congress, members of Assembly, with
their date of sitting, and drawing the line of business and
jurisdiction between them: (Always remembering, that our strength is
continental, not provincial:) Securing freedom and property to all
men, and above all things, the free exercise of religion, according
to the dictates of conscience; with such other matter as is necessary
for a charter to contain. Immediately after which, the said
Conference to dissolve, and the bodies which shall be chosen
comformable to the said charter, to be the legislators and governors
of this continent for the time being: Whose peace and happiness, may
God preserve, Amen.

Should any body of men be hereafter delegated for this or some
similar purpose, I offer them the following extracts from that wise
observer on governments DRAGONETTI. "The science" says he "of the
politician consists in fixing the true point of happiness and
freedom. Those men would deserve the gratitude of ages, who should
discover a mode of government that contained the greatest sum of
individual happiness, with the least national expense." "DRAGONETTI
ON VIRTUE AND REWARDS."

But where says some is the King of America? I'll tell you Friend,
he reigns above, and doth not make havoc of mankind like the Royal
Brute of Britain. Yet that we may not appear to be defective even in
earthly honors, let a day be solemnly set apart for proclaiming the
charter; let it be brought forth placed on the divine law, the word
of God; let a crown be placed thereon, by which the world may know,
that so far as we approve as monarchy, that in America THE LAW IS
KING. For as in absolute governments the King is law, so in free
countries the law OUGHT to be King; and there ought to be no other.
But lest any ill use should afterwards arise, let the crown at the
conclusion of the ceremony be demolished, and scattered among the
people whose right it is.

A government of our own is our natural right: And when a man
seriously reflects on the precariousness of human affairs, he will
become convinced, that it is infinitely wiser and safer, to form a
constitution of our own in a cool deliberate manner, while we have it
in our power, than to trust such an interesting event to time and
chance. If we omit it now, some, [*1] Massanello may hereafter arise,
who laying hold of popular disquietudes, may collect together the
desperate and discontented, and by assuming to themselves the powers
of government, may sweep away the liberties of the continent like a
deluge. Should the government of America return again into the hands
of Britain, the tottering situation of things, will be a temptation
for some desperate adventurer to try his fortune; and in such a case,
what relief can Britain give? Ere she could hear the news, the fatal
business might be done; and ourselves suffering like the wretched
Britons under the oppression of the Conqueror. Ye that oppose
independance now, ye know not what ye do; ye are opening a door to
eternal tyranny, by keeping vacant the seat of government. There are
thousands, and tens of thousands, who would think it glorious to
expel from the continent, that barbarous and hellish power, which
hath stirred up the Indians and Negroes to destroy us, the cruelty
hath a double guilt, it is dealing brutally by us, and treacherously
by them.

To talk of friendship with those in whom our reason forbids us to
have faith, and our affections wounded through a thousand pores
instruct us to detest, is madness and folly. Every day wears out the
little remains of kindred between us and them, and can there be any
reason to hope, that as the relationship expires, the affection will
increase, or that we shall agree better, when we have ten times more
and greater concerns to quarrel over than ever?

Ye that tell us of harmony and reconciliation, can ye restore to us
the time that is past? Can ye give to prostitution its former
innocence? Neither can ye reconcile Britain and America. The last
cord now is broken, the people of England are presenting addresses
against us. There are injuries which nature cannot forgive; she would
cease to be nature if she did. As well can the lover forgive the
ravisher of his mistress, as the continent forgive the murders of
Britain. The Almighty hath implanted in us these unextinguishable
feelings for good and wise purposes. They are the guardians of his
image in our hearts. They distinguish us from the herd of common
animals. The social compact would dissolve, and justice be extirpated
from the earth, or have only a casual existence were we callous to
the touches of affection. The robber, and the murderer, would often
escape unpunished, did not the injuries which our tempers sustain,
provoke us into justice.

O ye that love mankind! Ye that dare oppose, not only the tyranny,
but the tyrant, stand forth! Every spot of the old world is overrun
with oppression. Freedom hath been hunted round the globe. Asia, and
Africa, have long expelled her. Europe regards her like a stranger,
and England hath given her warning to depart. O! receive the
fugitive, and prepare in time an asylum for mankind.

Note 1  Thomas Anello, otherwise Massanello, a fisherman of Naples,
who after spiriting up his countrymen in the public market place,
against the oppression of the Spaniards, to whom the place was then
subject, prompted them to revolt, and in the space of a day became
king.

on Thoughts on the Present State of American Affairs Again the author claims to offer "simple facts, plain arguments, and common sense" . He will give facts and let the reason of the reader judge for itself. He mentions that volumes have been written already on the pros and cons of separation from England, but now, "the period of debate is closed. Arms, as the last resource, decide the contest" . Paine claims that the king has chosen this route by his action. Parliament was prepared to make some slight concessions to Americans but only for a time. Now, the larger view must be taken. The author claims Americans must act for posterity: "The sun never shone on a cause of greater worth" . Everything has changed since the 19th of April with the British troops attacking American colonists at Lexington and Concord. This is a new era, and reconciliation is no longer a possibility. Now the injuries of Americans will be discussed. First, he considers the argument that Americans flourished under British protection, and it must therefore continue to be good for them. No, says, Paine, the child has to grow up and leave the parent country . Second, some say Britain protects us from our enemies. Actually, British troops are in America to protect British property, for America is their rich subservient colony. Next, he considers the argument that Britain is the only unifying factor in the colonies that are actually unrelated to one another. Paine says that many colonists did not come from England but from other European countries. Europe is thus the parent of Americans, not England. At any rate, England has made itself the enemy of Americans through its behavior of attack and plunder. Americans do not need Britain. They are rich and dedicated to trade with all of Europe. It is in Europe's interest to have a free America. There is no advantage to remaining with Britain but there are many disadvantages, such as being dragged into European wars. There is the great distance between the two countries that makes it ridiculous for one to rule the other. Separation is inevitable, and this is the right time. Americans are in a precarious situation not knowing if their property is secure while Britain rules. He gives as example the prosperous city of Boston, now under siege. How can we go back and trust a government that has put fire and sword to our citizens? He is not exaggerating, he says, but appealing to "those feelings and affections which nature justifies" . Americans have already exhausted every peaceful means. To think the British will change is foolish. They repealed the Stamp Act, but a year or two later there were other taxes and tariffs. The British government cannot do justice in the ruling of America, for it is already too large and complicated. How can a continent be governed by an island? The King is an enemy of liberty and insists on being America's lawgiver. America can never be first in the thoughts of the British government. It cannot attract emigrants when its government is insecure. Finally, it is only continental independence that can keep the land free of civil war. As a republic it can foster equality that will bring peace to the land. In this historical moment, Americans have the chance to invent a better human government. The author gives a few of his ideas of what the new government should be like, such as fostering freedom of religion, and proposes a Continental Congress or Conference to come up with a Charter of the United Colonies. There will be equality and no king, for in America "THE LAW IS KING" . There are injuries that cannot be forgiven, so Britain and America must part.

Commentary on Thoughts on the Present State of American Affairs Paine wants to make it clear that Americans have no recourse but war with and separation from England. He shows that things have gone too far with all the incidents that have taken place, such as the closing of ports, the siege of Boston, the clash of troops with citizens, and so forth. He gives practical ideas why America has to be free in terms of being able to rule itself and take care of its business. It can be in a better position with trade and internal governance, able to avoid entanglement in European affairs. He mentions that America is profitable for Britain, and the unspoken argument is that America can make more money and successful trade agreements on its own. On a loftier note, he continues the idea of a moral reason to separate for the sake of posterity and freedom. A lot of the argument builds on the fact that subjugation to a king is immoral. A king is in an abusive position, and he is only one person. A hereditary position makes no sense in the commercial scientific world that is arising at this time. Paine looks ahead to new possibilities of life with economic and political freedom and equality for all. Hereditary privilege is a thing of the past, he announces. Self-governance is a natural right, a doctrine that will be spelled out in Jefferson's Declaration of Independence. It is interesting that Paine thinks self-governance will help America avoid civil war, when history showed this idea to be wrong. Paine thought that there would be one unifying government instead of individual state governments that would be tempted to war with each other. The regional differences, however, were one of the sticking points at the Constitutional Convention in 1787. The South wanted to retain slavery, while the North wanted to abolish it. Paine, Jefferson, and other revolutionaries used the new ideas of Enlightenment thinkers such as Jean-Jacques Rousseau and John Locke to make this move of gaining freedom and self-governance seem "natural" rather than violent or rebellious. The British king can call it treason, but the colonists justify revolution as their natural right, and they have many liberal philosophers of the time to back them up.


I HAVE never met with a man, either in England or America, who hath
not confessed his opinion, that a separation between the countries,
would take place one time or other: And there is no instance, in
which we have shewn less judgment, than in endeavouring to describe,
what we call, the ripeness or fitness of the Continent for
independance.

As all men allow the measure, and vary only in their opinion of the
time, let us, in order to remove mistakes, take a general survey of
things, and endeavour, if possible, to find out the VERY time. But
we need not go far, the inquiry ceases at once, for, the TIME HATH
FOUND US. The general concurrence, the glorious union of all things
prove the fact.

It is not in numbers, but in unity, that our great strength lies;
yet our present numbers are sufficient to repel the force of all the
world. The Continent hath, at this time, the largest body of armed
and disciplined men of any power under Heaven; and is just arrived at
that pitch of strength, in which, no single colony is able to support
itself, and the whole, when united, can accomplish the matter, and
either more, or, less than this, might be fatal in its effects. Our
land force is already sufficient, and as to naval affairs, we cannot
be insensible, that Britain would never suffer an American man of war
to be built, while the continent remained in her hands. Wherefore, we
should be no forwarder an hundred years hence in that branch, than we
are now; but the truth is, we should be less so, because the timber
of the country is every day diminishing, and that, which will remain
at last, will be far off and difficult to procure.

Were the continent crowded with inhabitants, her sufferings under
the present circumstances would be intolerable. The more sea port
towns we had, the more should we have both to defend and to loose.
Our present numbers are so happily proportioned to our wants, that no
man need be idle. The diminution of trade affords an army, and the
necessities of an army create a new trade.

Debts we have none; and whatever we may contract on this account
will serve as a glorious memento of our virtue. Can we but leave
posterity with a settled form of government, an independant
constitution of it's own, the purchase at any price will be cheap.
But to expend millions for the sake of getting a few vile acts
repealed, and routing the present ministry only, is unworthy the
charge, and is using posterity with the utmost cruelty; because it is
leaving them the great work to do, and a debt upon their backs, from
which, they derive no advantage. Such a thought is unworthy a man of
honor, and is the true characteristic of a narrow heart and a pedling
politician.

The debt we may contract doth not deserve our regard if the work be
but accomplished. No nation ought to be without a debt. A national
debt is a national bond; and when it bears no interest, is in no case
a grievance. Britain is oppressed with a debt of upwards of one
hundred and forty millions sterling, for which she pays upwards of
four millions interest. And as a compensation for her debt, she has a
large navy; America is without a debt, and without a navy; yet for
the twentieth part of the English national debt, could have a navy as
large again. The navy of England is not worth, at this time, more
than three millions and an half sterling.

The first and second editions of this pamphlet were published
without the following calculations, which are now given as a proof
that the above estimation of the navy is a just one. SEE ENTIC'S
NAVAL HISTORY, INTRO. page 56.

The charge of building a ship of each rate, and furnishing her with
masts, yards, sails and rigging, together with a proportion of eight
months boatswain's and carpenter's sea-stores, as calculated by Mr.
Burchett, Secretary to the navy.

     For a ship of a 100 guns |    | 35,553 L.
                           90 |    | 29,886
                           80 |    | 23,638
                           70 |    | 17,785
                           60 |    | 14,197
                           50 |    | 10,606
                           40 |    |  7,558
                           30 |    |  5,846
                           20 |    |  3,710

And from hence it is easy to sum up the value, or cost rather, of
the whole British navy, which in the year 1757, when it was as its
greatest glory consisted of the following ships and guns.

            SHIPS. | GUNS. | COST OF ONE. | COST OF ALL.

                 6 | 100   | 35,553 _l._  | 213,318 _l._
                12 |  90   | 29,886       | 358,632
                12 |  80   | 23,638       | 283,656
                43 |  70   | 17,785       | 746,755
                35 |  60   | 14,197       | 496,895
                40 |  50   | 10,606       | 424,240
                45 |  40   | 7,558        | 340,110
                58 |  20   | 3,710        | 215,180
                85 |  Sloops, bombs, and
                      fireships, one
                      with another, at
                           | 2,000        | 170,000
                           Cost           3,266,786
                      Remains for guns    | 233,214
                           Total.         3,500,000

No country on the globe is so happily situated, so internally
capable of raising a fleet as America. Tar, timber, iron, and cordage
are her natural produce. We need go abroad for nothing. Whereas the
Dutch, who make large profits by hiring out their ships of war to the
Spaniards and Portuguese, are obliged to import most of the materials
they use. We ought to view the building a fleet as an article of
commerce, it being the natural manufactory of this country. It is the
best money we can lay out. A navy when finished is worth more than it
cost. And is that nice point in national policy, in which commerce
and protection are united. Let us build; if we want them not, we can
sell; and by that means replace our paper currency with ready gold
and silver.

In point of manning a fleet, people in general run into great
errors; it is not necessary that one fourth part should be sailor.
The Terrible privateer, Captain Death, stood the hottest engagement
of any ship last war, yet had not twenty sailors on board, though her
complement of men was upwards of two hundred. A few able and social
sailors will soon instruct a sufficient number of active landmen in
the common work of a ship. Wherefore, we never can be more capable to
begin on maritime matters than now, while our timber is standing, our
fisheries blocked up, and our sailors and shipwrights out of employ.
Men of war, of seventy and eighty guns were built forty years ago in
New England, and why not the same now? Ship-building is America's
greatest pride, and in which, she will in time excel the whole world.
The great empires of the east are mostly inland, and consequently
excluded from the possibility of rivalling her. Africa is in a state
of barbarism; and no power in Europe, hath either such an extent of
coast, or such an internal supply of materials. Where nature hath
given the one, she has withheld the other; to America only hath she
been liberal of both. The vast empire of Russia is almost shut out
from the sea; wherefore, her boundless forests, her tar, iron, and
cordage are only articles of commerce.

In point of safety, ought we to be without a fleet? We are not the
little people now, which we were sixty years ago; at that time we
might have trusted our property in the streets, or fields rather; and
slept securely without locks or bolts to our doors or windows. The
case now is altered, and our methods of defence, ought to improve
with our increase of property. A common pirate, twelve months ago,
might have come up the Delaware, and laid the city of Philadelphia
under instant contribution, for what sum he pleased; and the same
might have happened to other places. Nay, any daring fellow, in a
brig of fourteen or sixteen guns, might have robbed the whole
Continent, and carried off half a million of money. These are
circumstances which demand our attention, and point out the necessity
of naval protection.

Some, perhaps, will say, that after we have made it up with
Britain, she will protect us. Can we be so unwise as to mean, that
she shall keep a navy in our harbours for that purpose? Common sense
will tell us, that the power which hath endeavoured to subdue us, is
of all others, the most improper to defend us. Conquest may be
effected under the pretence of friendship; and ourselves, after a
long and brave resistance, be at last cheated into slavery. And if
her ships are not to be admitted into our harbours, I would ask, how
is she to protect us? A navy three or four thousand miles off can be
of little use, and on sudden emergencies, none at all. Wherefore, if
we must hereafter protect ourselves, why not do it for ourselves? Why
do it for another?

The English list of ships of war, is long and formidable, but not a
tenth part of them are at any time fit for service, numbers of them
not in being; yet their names are pompously continued in the list, if
only a plank be left of the ship: and not a fifth part, of such as
are fit for service, can be spared on any one station at one time.
The East, and West Indies, Mediterranean, Africa, and other parts
over which Britain extends her claim, make large demands upon her
navy. From a mixture of prejudice and inattention, we have contracted
a false notion respecting the navy of England, and have talked as if
we should have the whole of it to encounter at once, and for that
reason, supposed, that we must have one as large; which not being
instantly practicable, have been made use of by a set of disguised
Tories to discourage our beginning thereon. Nothing can be farther
from truth than this; for if America had only a twentieth part of the
naval force of Britain, she would be by far an over match for her;
because, as we neither have, nor claim any foreign dominion, our
whole force would be employed on our own coast, where we should, in
the long run, have two to one the advantage of those who had three or
four thousand miles to sail over, before they could attack us, and
the same distance to return in order to refit and recruit. And
although Britain by her fleet, hath a check over our trade to Europe,
we have as large a one over her trade to the West Indies, which, by
laying in the neighbourhood of the Continent, is entirely at its
mercy.

Some method might be fallen on to keep up a naval force in time of
peace, if we should not judge it necessary to support a constant
navy. If premiums were to be given to merchants, to build and employ
in their service, ships mounted with twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty
guns, (the premiums to be in proportion to the loss of bulk to the
merchants) fifty or sixty of those ships, with a few guard ships on
constant duty, would keep up a sufficient navy, and that without
burdening ourselves with the evil so loudly complained of in England,
of suffering their fleet, in time of peace to lie rotting in the
docks. To unite the sinews of commerce and defence is sound policy;
for when our strength and our riches, play into each other's hand, we
need fear no external enemy.

In almost every article of defence we abound. Hemp flourishes even
to rankness, so that we need not want cordage. Our iron is superior
to that of other countries. Our small arms equal to any in the world.
Cannons we can cast at pleasure. Saltpetre and gunpowder we are every
day producing. Our knowledge is hourly improving. Resolution is our
inherent character, and courage hath never yet forsaken us.
Wherefore, what is it that we want? Why is it that we hesitate? From
Britain we can expect nothing but ruin. If she is once admitted to
the government of America again, this Continent will not be worth
living in. Jealousies will be always arising; insurrections will be
constantly happening; and who will go forth to quell them? Who will
venture his life to reduce his own countrymen to a foreign obedience?
The difference between Pennsylvania and Connecticut, respecting some
unlocated lands, shews the insignificance of a British government,
and fully proves, that nothing but Continental authority can regulate
Continental matters.

Another reason why the present time is preferable to all others,
is, that the fewer our numbers are, the more land there is yet
unoccupied, which instead of being lavished by the king on his
worthless dependents, may be hereafter applied, not only to the
discharge of the present debt, but to the constant support of
government. No nation under heaven hath such an advantage as this.

The infant state of the Colonies, as it is called, so far from
being against, is an argument in favor of independance. We are
sufficiently numerous, and were we more so, we might be less united.
It is a matter worthy of observation, that the more a country is
peopled, the smaller their armies are. In military numbers, the
ancients far exceeded the moderns: and the reason is evident, for
trade being the consequence of population, men become too much
absorbed thereby to attend to any thing else. Commerce diminishes the
spirit, both of patriotism and military defence. And history
sufficiently informs us, that the bravest achievements were always
accomplished in the non age of a nation. With the increase of
commerce, England hath lost its spirit. The city of London,
notwithstanding its numbers, submits to continued insults with the
patience of a coward. The more men have to lose, the less willing are
they to venture. The rich are in general slaves to fear, and submit
to courtly power with the trembling duplicity of a Spaniel.

Youth is the seed time of good habits, as well in nations as in
individuals. It might be difficult, if not impossible, to form the
Continent into one government half a century hence. The vast variety
of interests, occasioned by an increase of trade and population,
would create confusion. Colony would be against colony. Each being
able might scorn each other's assistance; and while the proud and
foolish gloried in their little distinctions, the wise would lament,
that the union had not been formed before. Wherefore, the PRESENT
TIME is the TRUE TIME for establishing it. The intimacy which is
contracted in infancy, and the friendship which is formed in
misfortune, are, of all others, the most lasting and unalterable. Our
present union is marked with both these characters: we are young, and
we have been distressed; but our concord hath withstood our troubles,
and fixes a memorable area for posterity to glory in.

The present time, likewise, is that peculiar time, which never
happens to a nation but once, VIZ. the time of forming itself into
a government. Most nations have let slip the opportunity, and by that
means have been compelled to receive laws from their conquerors,
instead of making laws for themselves. First, they had a king, and
then a form of government; whereas, the articles or charter of
government, should be formed first, and men delegated to execute them
afterwards: but from the errors of other nations, let us learn
wisdom, and lay hold of the present opportunity--TO BEGIN GOVERNMENT
AT THE RIGHT END.

When William the Conqueror subdued England, he gave them law at the
point of the sword; and until we consent, that the seat of
government, in America, be legally and authoritatively occupied, we
shall be in danger of having it filled by some fortunate ruffian, who
may treat us in the same manner, and then, where will be our freedom?
Where our property?

As to religion, I hold it to be the indispensible duty of all
government, to protect all conscientious professors thereof, and I
know of no other business which government hath to do therewith. Let
a man throw aside that narrowness of soul, that selfishness of
principle, which the niggards of all professions are so unwilling to
part with, and he will be at once delivered of his fears on that
head. Suspicion is the companion of mean souls, and the bane of all
good society. For myself, I fully and conscientiously believe, that
it is the will of the Almighty, that there should be diversity of
religious opinions among us: It affords a larger field for our
Christian kindness. Were we all of one way of thinking, our religious
dispositions would want matter for probation; and on this liberal
principle, I look on the various denominations among us, to be like
children of the same family, differing only, in what is called, their
Christian names.

In page [III par 47], I threw out a few thoughts on
the propriety of a Continental Charter, (for I only presume to offer
hints, not plans) and in this place, I take the liberty of
rementioning the subject, by observing, that a charter is to be
understood as a bond of solemn obligation, which the whole enters
into, to support the right of every separate part, whether or
religion, personal freedom, or property. A firm bargain and a right
reckoning make long friends.

In a former page I likewise mentioned the necessity of a large and
equal representation; and there is no political matter which more
deserves our attention. A small number of electors, or a small number
of representatives, are equally dangerous. But if the number of the
representatives be not only small, but unequal, the danger is
increased. As an instance of this, I mention the following; when the
Associators petition was before the House of Assembly of
Pennsylvania; twenty-eight members only were present, all the Bucks
county members, being eight, voted against it, and had seven of the
Chester members done the same, this whole province had been governed
by two counties only, and this danger it is always exposed to. The
unwarrantable stretch likewise, which that house made in their last
sitting, to gain an undue authority over the Delegates of that
province, ought to warn the people at large, how they trust power out
of their own hands. A set of instructions for the Delegates were put
together, which in point of sense and business would have dishonored
a schoolboy, and after being approved by a FEW, a VERY FEW
without doors, were carried into the House, and there passed IN
BEHALF OF THE WHOLE COLONY; whereas, did the whole colony know, with
what ill-will that House hath entered on some necessary public
measures, they would not hesitate a moment to think them unworthy of
such a trust.

Immediate necessity makes many things convenient, which if
continued would grow into oppressions. Expedience and right are
different things. When the calamities of America required a
consultation, there was no method so ready, or at that time so
proper, as to appoint persons from the several Houses of Assembly for
that purpose; and the wisdom with which they have proceeded hath
preserved this continent from ruin. But as it is more than probable
that we shall never be without a CONGRESS, every well wisher to good
order, must own, that the mode for choosing members of that body,
deserves consideration. And I put it as a question to those, who make
a study of mankind, whether REPRESENTATION AND ELECTION is not too
great a power for one and the same body of men to possess? When we
are planning for posterity, we ought to remember, that virtue is not
hereditary.

It is from our enemies that we often gain excellent maxims, and are
frequently surprised into reason by their mistakes. Mr. Cornwall (one
of the Lords of the Treasury) treated the petition of the New York
Assembly with contempt, because THAT House, he said, consisted but
of twenty-six members, which trifling number, he argued, could not
with decency be put for the whole. We thank him for his involuntary
honesty. [*Note 1]

TO CONCLUDE, however strange it may appear to some, or however
unwilling they may be to think so, matters not, but many strong and
striking reasons may be given, to shew, that nothing can settle our
affairs so expeditiously as an open and determined declaration for
independance. Some of which are,

FIRST--It is the custom of nations, when any two are at war, for
some other powers, not engaged in the quarrel, to step in as
mediators, and bring about the preliminaries of a peace: but while
America calls herself the Subject of Great Britain, no power, however
well disposed she may be, can offer her mediation. Wherefore, in our
present state we may quarrel on for ever.

SECONDLY--It is unreasonable to suppose, that France or Spain
will give us any kind of assistance, if we mean only, to make use of
that assistance for the purpose of repairing the breach, and
strengthening the connection between Britain and America; because,
those powers would be sufferers by the consequences.

THIRDLY--While we profess ourselves the subjects of Britain, we
must, in the eye of foreign nations, be considered as rebels. The
precedent is somewhat dangerous to THEIR PEACE, for men to be in
arms under the name of subjects; we, on the spot, can solve the
paradox: but to unite resistance and subjection, requires an idea
much too refined for the common understanding.

FOURTHLY--Were a manifesto to be published, and despatched to
foreign courts, setting forth the miseries we have endured, and the
peaceable methods we have ineffectually used for redress; declaring,
at the same time, that not being able, any longer, to live happily or
safely under the cruel disposition of the British court, we had been
driven to the necessity of breaking off all connections with her; at
the same time, assuring all such courts of our peacable disposition
towards them, and of our desire of entering into trade with them:
Such a memorial would produce more good effects to this Continent,
than if a ship were freighted with petitions to Britain.

Under our present denomination of British subjects, we can neither
be received nor heard abroad: The custom of all courts is against us,
and will be so, until, by an independance, we take rank with other
nations.

These proceedings may at first appear strange and difficult; but,
like all other steps which we have already passed over, will in a
little time become familiar and agreeable; and, until an independance
is declared, the Continent will feel itself like a man who continues
putting off some unpleasant business from day to day, yet knows it
must be done, hates to set about it, wishes it over, and is
continually haunted with the thoughts of its necessity.

Note 1  Those who would fully understand of what great consequence a
large and equal representation is to a state, should read Burgh's
political Disquisitions.

On the Present Ability of America, With Some Miscellaneous Reflections The author claims he has never met a person who did not believe America and Britain would one day separate. He wants to plead that now is the time, not later as some believe. It is the unity of the colonists and not their numbers that is their great strength. They have the largest body of disciplined civilian forces of any country. The colonies singly cannot survive but all together they are strong. The land army is sufficient, but Paine makes a plea for building a navy. The colonies are not in debt; they only need to leave posterity a settled form of government. They have already spent millions to get the stamp acts repealed. The momentum should be used for a greater purpose, to gain independence. He gives a list of costs for building a navy, saying what a valuable asset it is, and how America is situated to have a great navy. They have the timber and knowledge of shipbuilding. They are no longer a little people but moving toward greatness. He speaks of Britain's mighty navy but predicts an American navy could beat it. Paine lists the rich stores of saltpeter, gunpowder, and small arms the country has. Americans have a character of courage, so why hesitate?America is not in an infant state as some believe. It is at the proper size for venturing to war without much to lose, and with much to gain. It is a young nation in formation, and this time will never come again. He believes that the government should protect religious diversity. They have to go to war, for there is no one who can mediate this quarrel. He does not expect support from France or Spain, but the Americans should publish a manifesto to foreign powers explaining their grieves and reasons for leaving Britain. On the other hand, as British subjects, they have no right to approach other governments to negotiate. The sooner Americans undertake this venture, the better it will be, rather than put it off until it becomes more difficult.

Commentary On the Present Ability of America, With Some Miscellaneous Reflections In this section Paine tries to make it seem that everyone agrees on independence, but they just want to put it off. He moves past trying to convince readers of the justice of the cause and instead, explains why Americans are ready for war and will be successful. His vision of an American navy is powerful and compelling, showing that the country is far beyond being a colony. It is already mature and should be on its own. It needs to be able to negotiate with other countries as a separate and sovereign power. Paine makes a point of the readiness of the colonials. The colonial people were very well prepared to break away from Britain and rule themselves. Every village had a town hall used to debating local issues. It had a standing civilian militia that drilled and stood ready to march. The colonies had a network set up, a Committee of Correspondence, a resistance force with newspapers, pamphlets , to disperse the ideas that would propel the colonists to fight for their rights. Paine was an important part of this propaganda machine. The Committee circulated the news of British atrocities against the colonials, such as forcing the colonies to buy British products at high prices and with a tax, such as the taxed tea that the colonials threw into the Boston Harbor . The British put tariffs on non-British products. The colonials wanted to conduct their own trade. Most of them were property owners fighting for their own land.


ACT I. SCENE I.
Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace

Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO

  PHILO. Nay, but this dotage of our general's
    O'erflows the measure. Those his goodly eyes,
    That o'er the files and musters of the war
    Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn,
    The office and devotion of their view
    Upon a tawny front. His captain's heart,
    Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst
    The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper,
    And is become the bellows and the fan
    To cool a gipsy's lust.

     Flourish. Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, her LADIES, the train,
                    with eunuchs fanning her

    Look where they come!
    Take but good note, and you shall see in him
    The triple pillar of the world transform'd
    Into a strumpet's fool. Behold and see.
  CLEOPATRA. If it be love indeed, tell me how much.
  ANTONY. There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.
  CLEOPATRA. I'll set a bourn how far to be belov'd.
  ANTONY. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

                       Enter a MESSENGER

  MESSENGER. News, my good lord, from Rome.
  ANTONY. Grates me the sum.
  CLEOPATRA. Nay, hear them, Antony.
    Fulvia perchance is angry; or who knows
    If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent
    His pow'rful mandate to you: 'Do this or this;
    Take in that kingdom and enfranchise that;
    Perform't, or else we damn thee.'
  ANTONY. How, my love?
  CLEOPATRA. Perchance? Nay, and most like,
    You must not stay here longer; your dismission
    Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony.
    Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's I would say? Both?
    Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's Queen,
    Thou blushest, Antony, and that blood of thine
    Is Caesar's homager. Else so thy cheek pays shame
    When shrill-tongu'd Fulvia scolds. The messengers!
  ANTONY. Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch
    Of the rang'd empire fall! Here is my space.
    Kingdoms are clay; our dungy earth alike
    Feeds beast as man. The nobleness of life
    Is to do thus [emhracing], when such a mutual pair
    And such a twain can do't, in which I bind,
    On pain of punishment, the world to weet
    We stand up peerless.
  CLEOPATRA. Excellent falsehood!
    Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?
    I'll seem the fool I am not. Antony
    Will be himself.
  ANTONY. But stirr'd by Cleopatra.
    Now for the love of Love and her soft hours,
    Let's not confound the time with conference harsh;
    There's not a minute of our lives should stretch
    Without some pleasure now. What sport to-night?
  CLEOPATRA. Hear the ambassadors.
  ANTONY. Fie, wrangling queen!
    Whom everything becomes- to chide, to laugh,
    To weep; whose every passion fully strives
    To make itself in thee fair and admir'd.
    No messenger but thine, and all alone
    To-night we'll wander through the streets and note
    The qualities of people. Come, my queen;
    Last night you did desire it. Speak not to us.
                     Exeunt ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, with the train
  DEMETRIUS. Is Caesar with Antonius priz'd so slight?
  PHILO. Sir, sometimes when he is not Antony,
    He comes too short of that great property
    Which still should go with Antony.
  DEMETRIUS. I am full sorry
    That he approves the common liar, who
    Thus speaks of him at Rome; but I will hope
    Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy!            Exeunt

Two Roman soldiers, Demetrius and Philo, are at Cleopatra's palace in Alexandria, Egypt. They discuss how their dear leader and friend, Mark Antony, is totally smitten with Egypt's queen, Cleopatra. Because of this, he acts less like a ruler and more like a teenager in love. Cleopatra and Antony show up, and Cleopatra demands that Antony tells her how much he loves her. He does so with much fawning. A messenger arrives with news from Rome, and Cleopatra taunts him that the message is either from Antony's wife Fulvia, who's angry about his absence, or maybe orders from Octavius Caesar in Rome. Antony insists he won't hear the message, because everything he cares about is in front of him. Cleopatra again taunts her love: she wonders whether Antony might care as little for her as for Fulvia, his wife back home. Antony scolds her for being so hot and cold. They leave the messenger without hearing the message, and Demetrius and Philo lament that all the rumors in Rome about Antony having fallen off the manly wagon are true.


SCENE II.
Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace

Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a SOOTHSAYER

  CHARMIAN. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most anything Alexas,
almost
    most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer that you prais'd
so
    to th' Queen? O that I knew this husband, which you say must
    charge his horns with garlands!
  ALEXAS. Soothsayer!
  SOOTHSAYER. Your will?
  CHARMIAN. Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that know things?
  SOOTHSAYER. In nature's infinite book of secrecy
    A little I can read.
  ALEXAS. Show him your hand.

                       Enter ENOBARBUS

  ENOBARBUS. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough
    Cleopatra's health to drink.
  CHARMIAN. Good, sir, give me good fortune.
  SOOTHSAYER. I make not, but foresee.
  CHARMIAN. Pray, then, foresee me one.
  SOOTHSAYER. You shall be yet far fairer than you are.
  CHARMIAN. He means in flesh.
  IRAS. No, you shall paint when you are old.
  CHARMIAN. Wrinkles forbid!
  ALEXAS. Vex not his prescience; be attentive.
  CHARMIAN. Hush!
  SOOTHSAYER. You shall be more beloving than beloved.
  CHARMIAN. I had rather heat my liver with drinking.
  ALEXAS. Nay, hear him.
  CHARMIAN. Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married
to
    three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all. Let me have a
    child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage. Find me
to
    marry me with Octavius Caesar, and companion me with my
mistress.
  SOOTHSAYER. You shall outlive the lady whom you serve.
  CHARMIAN. O, excellent! I love long life better than figs.
  SOOTHSAYER. You have seen and prov'd a fairer former fortune
    Than that which is to approach.
  CHARMIAN. Then belike my children shall have no names.
    Prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have?
  SOOTHSAYER. If every of your wishes had a womb,
    And fertile every wish, a million.
  CHARMIAN. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch.
  ALEXAS. You think none but your sheets are privy to your
wishes.
  CHARMIAN. Nay, come, tell Iras hers.
  ALEXAS. We'll know all our fortunes.
  ENOBARBUS. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be-
    drunk to bed.
  IRAS. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else.
  CHARMIAN. E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine.
  IRAS. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay.
  CHARMIAN. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful
prognostication, I
    cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee, tell her but worky-day
fortune.
  SOOTHSAYER. Your fortunes are alike.
  IRAS. But how, but how? Give me particulars.
  SOOTHSAYER. I have said.
  IRAS. Am I not an inch of fortune better than she?
  CHARMIAN. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than
I,
    where would you choose it?
  IRAS. Not in my husband's nose.
  CHARMIAN. Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas- come, his
    fortune, his fortune! O, let him marry a woman that cannot
go,
    sweet Isis, I beseech thee! And let her die too, and give him
a
    worse! And let worse follow worse, till the worst of all
follow
    him laughing to his grave, fiftyfold a cuckold! Good Isis,
hear
    me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight;
good
    Isis, I beseech thee!
  IRAS. Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! For,
as
    it is a heartbreaking to see a handsome man loose-wiv'd, so
it is
    a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded.
Therefore,
    dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly!
  CHARMIAN. Amen.
  ALEXAS. Lo now, if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold,
they
    would make themselves whores but they'ld do't!

                          Enter CLEOPATRA

  ENOBARBUS. Hush! Here comes Antony.
  CHARMIAN. Not he; the Queen.
  CLEOPATRA. Saw you my lord?
  ENOBARBUS. No, lady.
  CLEOPATRA. Was he not here?
  CHARMIAN. No, madam.
  CLEOPATRA. He was dispos'd to mirth; but on the sudden
    A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus!
  ENOBARBUS. Madam?
  CLEOPATRA. Seek him, and bring him hither. Where's Alexas?
  ALEXAS. Here, at your service. My lord approaches.

          Enter ANTONY, with a MESSENGER and attendants

  CLEOPATRA. We will not look upon him. Go with us.
                       Exeunt CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, and the rest
  MESSENGER. Fulvia thy wife first came into the field.
  ANTONY. Against my brother Lucius?
  MESSENGER. Ay.
    But soon that war had end, and the time's state
    Made friends of them, jointing their force 'gainst Caesar,
    Whose better issue in the war from Italy
    Upon the first encounter drave them.
  ANTONY. Well, what worst?
  MESSENGER. The nature of bad news infects the teller.
  ANTONY. When it concerns the fool or coward. On!
    Things that are past are done with me. 'Tis thus:
    Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death,
    I hear him as he flatter'd.
  MESSENGER. Labienus-
    This is stiff news- hath with his Parthian force
    Extended Asia from Euphrates,
    His conquering banner shook from Syria
    To Lydia and to Ionia,
    Whilst-
  ANTONY. Antony, thou wouldst say.
  MESSENGER. O, my lord!
  ANTONY. Speak to me home; mince not the general tongue;
    Name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome.
    Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase, and taunt my faults
    With such full licence as both truth and malice
    Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds
    When our quick minds lie still, and our ills told us
    Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile.
  MESSENGER. At your noble pleasure.                        Exit
  ANTONY. From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there!
  FIRST ATTENDANT. The man from Sicyon- is there such an one?
  SECOND ATTENDANT. He stays upon your will.
  ANTONY. Let him appear.
    These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,
    Or lose myself in dotage.

                 Enter another MESSENGER with a letter

    What are you?
  SECOND MESSENGER. Fulvia thy wife is dead.
  ANTONY. Where died she?
  SECOND MESSENGER. In Sicyon.
    Her length of sickness, with what else more serious
    Importeth thee to know, this bears.       [Gives the letter]
  ANTONY. Forbear me.                             Exit MESSENGER
    There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it.
    What our contempts doth often hurl from us
    We wish it ours again; the present pleasure,
    By revolution low'ring, does become
    The opposite of itself. She's good, being gone;
    The hand could pluck her back that shov'd her on.
    I must from this enchanting queen break off.
    Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
    My idleness doth hatch. How now, Enobarbus!

                    Re-enter ENOBARBUS

  ENOBARBUS. What's your pleasure, sir?
  ANTONY. I must with haste from hence.
  ENOBARBUS. Why, then we kill all our women. We see how mortal
an
    unkindness is to them; if they suffer our departure, death's
the
    word.
  ANTONY. I must be gone.
  ENOBARBUS. Under a compelling occasion, let women die. It were
pity
    to cast them away for nothing, though between them and a
great
    cause they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching
but
    the least noise of this, dies instantly; I have seen her die

    twenty times upon far poorer moment. I do think there is
mettle
    in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath
such a
    celerity in dying.
  ANTONY. She is cunning past man's thought.
  ENOBARBUS. Alack, sir, no! Her passions are made of nothing but
the
    finest part of pure love. We cannot call her winds and waters
    sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than
    almanacs can report. This cannot be cunning in her; if it be,
she
    makes a show'r of rain as well as Jove.
  ANTONY. Would I had never seen her!
  ENOBARBUS. O Sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of
    work, which not to have been blest withal would have
discredited
    your travel.
  ANTONY. Fulvia is dead.
  ENOBARBUS. Sir?
  ANTONY. Fulvia is dead.
  ENOBARBUS. Fulvia?
  ANTONY. Dead.
  ENOBARBUS. Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When
it
    pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him, it

    shows to man the tailors of the earth; comforting therein
that
    when old robes are worn out there are members to make new. If
    there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a
cut,
    and the case to be lamented. This grief is crown'd with
    consolation: your old smock brings forth a new petticoat; and
    indeed the tears live in an onion that should water this
sorrow.
  ANTONY. The business she hath broached in the state
    Cannot endure my absence.
  ENOBARBUS. And the business you have broach'd here cannot be
    without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly
depends
    on your abode.
  ANTONY. No more light answers. Let our officers
    Have notice what we purpose. I shall 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 strongly speak to us; but the letters to
    Of many our contriving friends in Rome
    Petition us at home. Sextus Pompeius
    Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands
    The empire of the sea; our slippery people,
    Whose love is never link'd to the deserver
    Till his deserts are past, begin to throw
    Pompey the Great and all his dignities
    Upon his son; who, high in name and power,
    Higher than both in blood and life, stands up
    For the main soldier; whose quality, going on,
    The sides o' th' world may danger. Much is breeding
    Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life
    And not a serpent's poison. Say our pleasure,
    To such whose place is under us, requires
    Our quick remove from hence.
  ENOBARBUS. I shall do't.                                Exeunt

Charmian and Iras, Cleopatra's maids, chat with a soothsayer . He tells them their fortunes are alike in that their pasts are better than their futures and that they'll both outlive the woman they serve. They tease the soothsayer and dismiss his prophecies. The giggle-fest is broken up when Cleopatra comes in looking for Antony, who was all revelry until he suddenly went into a bad mood thinking about Rome. Cleopatra is a feisty one: she exits when Antony enters so as not to see him, even though she had just sent his man Enobarbus to go find him. Oh, the games! A messenger is telling Antony some bad news: his wife Fulvia went to war with his brother Lucius, but then joined forces with Lucius against Octavius Caesar, who promptly beat them both. Further, Labienus, an old enemy of the Roman triumvirate, has begun to conquer the territories of Asia and the east that Antony is supposed to be ruling. The servant hesitates to hint that maybe this wouldn't have happened if somebody had been paying attention, and Antony admits he needs to hear about his faults. Antony resolves to leave Egypt when he gets the news that his wife is dead. He's often wished for her to be dead, but now that she is, he wishes that it hadn't happened. When Antony tells Enobarbus that he has to leave Egypt, Enobarbus says that will kill Cleopatra. He also suggests to Antony that the death of his wife, Fulvia, is actually a blessing. It makes things far less complicated. Still, Antony is resolved to finish the business Fulvia started in Rome. To make matters worse, Sextus Pompeius, son of Pompey , has begun to gain power at sea and is now challenging Octavius Caesar. Someone's got to help. Antony sends Enobarbus to let Cleopatra know he's got work to attend to in Rome. He's got to go.


SCENE III.
Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS

  CLEOPATRA. Where is he?
  CHARMIAN. I did not see him since.
  CLEOPATRA. See where he is, who's with him, what he does.
    I did not send you. If you find him sad,
    Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report
    That I am sudden sick. Quick, and return.        Exit ALEXAS
  CHARMIAN. Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly,
    You do not hold the method to enforce
    The like from him.
  CLEOPATRA. What should I do I do not?
  CHARMIAN. In each thing give him way; cross him in nothing.
  CLEOPATRA. Thou teachest like a fool- the way to lose him.
  CHARMIAN. Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear;
    In time we hate that which we often fear.

                            Enter ANTONY

    But here comes Antony.
  CLEOPATRA. I am sick and sullen.
  ANTONY. I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose-
  CLEOPATRA. Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall.
    It cannot be thus long; the sides of nature
    Will not sustain it.
  ANTONY. Now, my dearest queen-
  CLEOPATRA. Pray you, stand farther from me.
  ANTONY. What's the matter?
  CLEOPATRA. I know by that same eye there's some good news.
    What says the married woman? You may go.
    Would she had never given you leave to come!
    Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here-
    I have no power upon you; hers you are.
  ANTONY. The gods best know-
  CLEOPATRA. O, never was there queen
    So mightily betray'd! Yet at the first
    I saw the treasons planted.
  ANTONY. Cleopatra-
  CLEOPATRA. Why should I think you can be mine and true,
    Though you in swearing shake the throned gods,
    Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness,
    To be entangled with those mouth-made vows,
    Which break themselves in swearing!
  ANTONY. Most sweet queen-
  CLEOPATRA. Nay, pray you seek no colour for your going,
    But bid farewell, and go. When you sued staying,
    Then was the time for words. No going then!
    Eternity was in our lips and eyes,
    Bliss in our brows' bent, none our parts so poor
    But was a race of heaven. They are so still,
    Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,
    Art turn'd the greatest liar.
  ANTONY. How now, lady!
  CLEOPATRA. I would I had thy inches. Thou shouldst know
    There were a heart in Egypt.
  ANTONY. Hear me, queen:
    The strong necessity of time commands
    Our services awhile; but my full heart
    Remains in use with you. Our Italy
    Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius
    Makes his approaches to the port of Rome;
    Equality of two domestic powers
    Breed scrupulous faction; the hated, grown to strength,
    Are newly grown to love. The condemn'd Pompey,
    Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace
    Into the hearts of such as have not thrived
    Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;
    And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge
    By any desperate change. My more particular,
    And that which most with you should safe my going,
    Is Fulvia's death.
  CLEOPATRA. Though age from folly could not give me freedom,
     It does from childishness. Can Fulvia die?
  ANTONY. She's dead, my Queen.
    Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read
    The garboils she awak'd. At the last, best.
    See when and where she died.
  CLEOPATRA. O most false love!
    Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill
    With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,
    In Fulvia's death how mine receiv'd shall be.
  ANTONY. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know
    The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,
    As you shall give th' advice. By the fire
    That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence
    Thy soldier, servant, making peace or war
    As thou affects.
  CLEOPATRA. Cut my lace, Charmian, come!
    But let it be; I am quickly ill and well-
    So Antony loves.
  ANTONY. My precious queen, forbear,
    And give true evidence to his love, which stands
    An honourable trial.
  CLEOPATRA. So Fulvia told me.
    I prithee turn aside and weep for her;
    Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears
    Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one scene
    Of excellent dissembling, and let it look
    Like perfect honour.
  ANTONY. You'll heat my blood; no more.
  CLEOPATRA. You can do better yet; but this is meetly.
  ANTONY. Now, by my sword-
  CLEOPATRA. And target. Still he mends;
    But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian,
    How this Herculean Roman does become
    The carriage of his chafe.
  ANTONY. I'll leave you, lady.
  CLEOPATRA. Courteous lord, one word.
    Sir, you and I must part- but that's not it.
    Sir, you and I have lov'd- but there's not it.
    That you know well. Something it is I would-
    O, my oblivion is a very Antony,
    And I am all forgotten!
  ANTONY. But that your royalty
    Holds idleness your subject, I should take you
    For idleness itself.
  CLEOPATRA. 'Tis sweating labour
    To bear such idleness so near the heart
    As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me;
    Since my becomings kill me when they do not
    Eye well to you. Your honour calls you hence;
    Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly,
    And all the gods go with you! Upon your sword
    Sit laurel victory, and smooth success
    Be strew'd before your feet!
  ANTONY. Let us go. Come.
    Our separation so abides and flies
    That thou, residing here, goes yet with me,
    And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.
    Away!                                                 Exeunt

Meanwhile Cleopatra sends Alexas, her servant, to see what Antony is doing and tells her if she finds him upset, she should tell him Cleopatra is super happy; if he's happy, she should tell him Cleopatra is sad. But most importantly, she can't let Antony know that Cleopatra sent her. Cleo believes the best way to keep a man's interest is to seem as disinterested in him as possible. Charmian tries to advise Cleopatra against playing these games with Antony, but Cleopatra tells her she doesn't know what she's talking about. Cleo knows how to keep a man around--Charmian only knows how to lose one. Just then, Antony shows up with the news that he's leaving for Rome. Cleopatra swoons this way and that, wishing she'd never met him. He finally explains that he needs to take care of the war brewing with Sextus Pompeius. Further, Cleopatra should feel okay about him going because Fulvia is dead. Cleopatra has a moment of seriousness. She is shocked by Fulvia's death, but also at Antony's calmness over the death. Cleopatra worries that Antony would be equally unaffected by her death. They argue a bit over how much Antony loves Cleopatra, and whether Antony will forget Cleopatra as quickly as he forgot Fulvia. Finally Cleopatra concedes he should go to Rome and take care of his affairs. She wishes him well, and they both promise they'll be with each other in spirit while they're apart physically. Antony leaves.


SCENE IV.
Rome. CAESAR'S house

Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, reading a letter; LEPIDUS, and their train

  CAESAR. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know,
    It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate
    Our great competitor. From Alexandria
    This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes
    The lamps of night in revel; is not more manlike
    Than Cleopatra, nor the queen of Ptolemy
    More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or
    Vouchsaf'd to think he had partners. You shall find there
    A man who is the abstract of all faults
    That all men follow.
  LEPIDUS. I must not think there are
    Evils enow to darken all his goodness.
    His faults, in him, seem as the spots of heaven,
    More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary
    Rather than purchas'd; what he cannot change
    Than what he chooses.
  CAESAR. You are too indulgent. Let's grant it is not
    Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy,
    To give a kingdom for a mirth, to sit
    And keep the turn of tippling with a slave,
    To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet
    With knaves that smell of sweat. Say this becomes him-
    As his composure must be rare indeed
    Whom these things cannot blemish- yet must Antony
    No way excuse his foils when we do bear
    So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd
    His vacancy with his voluptuousness,
    Full surfeits and the dryness of his bones
    Call on him for't! But to confound such time
    That drums him from his sport and speaks as loud
    As his own state and ours- 'tis to be chid
    As we rate boys who, being mature in knowledge,
    Pawn their experience to their present pleasure,
    And so rebel to judgment.

                   Enter a MESSENGER

  LEPIDUS. Here's more news.
  MESSENGER. Thy biddings have been done; and every hour,
    Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report
    How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea,
    And it appears he is belov'd of those
    That only have fear'd Caesar. To the ports
    The discontents repair, and men's reports
    Give him much wrong'd.
  CAESAR. I should have known no less.
    It hath been taught us from the primal state
    That he which is was wish'd until he were;
    And the ebb'd man, ne'er lov'd till ne'er worth love,
    Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body,
    Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream,
    Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide,
    To rot itself with motion.
  MESSENGER. Caesar, I bring thee word
    Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,
    Make the sea serve them, which they ear and wound
    With keels of every kind. Many hot inroads
    They make in Italy; the borders maritime
    Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt.
    No vessel can peep forth but 'tis as soon
    Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more
    Than could his war resisted.
  CAESAR. Antony,
    Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once
    Was beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st
    Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel
    Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against,
    Though daintily brought up, with patience more
    Than savages could suffer. Thou didst drink
    The stale of horses and the gilded puddle
    Which beasts would cough at. Thy palate then did deign
    The roughest berry on the rudest hedge;
    Yea, like the stag when snow the pasture sheets,
    The barks of trees thou brows'd. On the Alps
    It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh,
    Which some did die to look on. And all this-
    It wounds thine honour that I speak it now-
    Was borne so like a soldier that thy cheek
    So much as lank'd not.
  LEPIDUS. 'Tis pity of him.
  CAESAR. Let his shames quickly
    Drive him to Rome. 'Tis time we twain
    Did show ourselves i' th' field; and to that end
    Assemble we immediate council. Pompey
    Thrives in our idleness.
  LEPIDUS. To-morrow, Caesar,
    I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly
    Both what by sea and land I can be able
    To front this present time.
  CAESAR. Till which encounter
    It is my business too. Farewell.
  LEPIDUS. Farewell, my lord. What you shall know meantime
    Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,
    To let me be partaker.
  CAESAR. Doubt not, sir;
    I knew it for my bond.                                Exeunt

Back in Rome, Octavius Caesar conferences with Lepidus, another member of the triumvirate that leads Rome. Caesar complains that Antony, the third member of the triumvirate, has been fishing, drinking, and partying in Egypt, instead of doing his duty to Rome. Lepidus tries to defend Antony, suggesting his faults are in his nature, maybe inherited, and that they're not that big of a deal compared to his good traits. Caesar's not having any of it, though. He says it's one thing for Antony to give up his manhood and follow a woman in drunken revelry, but he leaves too great a burden on the other two members of the triumvirate. Basically he's been letting everyone down. This is no time for him to be fooling around in Egypt, there's serious business is afoot in Rome. A messenger enters with the news that Pompey's forces at sea are strong. Worse, it turns out that Caesar's men are defecting and joining Pompey's army because they were only with Caesar out of fear, not out of loyalty. Even worse news soon arrives: the sea is overrun with pirates. Caesar wishes Antony, who has already proven himself as a soldier, would hurry up and get there, as they need his help. He and Lepidus agree to raise their forces together against Pompey, and presumably wait for Antony.