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Speeches (Lines) for Antony
in "Antony and Cleopatra"

Total: 202

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Speech text



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 beloved.

Antony. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.



Attendant. 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 powerful 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-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers!

Antony. Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch
Of the ranged 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; 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 tonight?



Cleopatra. Hear the ambassadors.

Antony. Fie, wrangling queen!
Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,
To weep; whose every passion fully strives
To make itself, in thee, fair and admired!
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.
their train]



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, joining 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.



(stage directions). [Exit]

Antony. From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there!



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]
What are you?



Second Messenger. Fulvia thy wife is dead.

Antony. Where died she?



(stage directions). [Gives a letter]

Antony. Forbear me.
[Exit Second Messenger]
There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it:
What our contempt doth often hurl from us,
We wish it ours again; the present pleasure,
By revolution lowering, does become
The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone;
The hand could pluck her back that shoved 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!



Domitius Enobarus. What's your pleasure, sir?

Antony. I must with haste from hence.



Domitius Enobarus. 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.



Domitius Enobarus. 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.



Domitius Enobarus. 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
shower of rain as well as Jove.

Antony. Would I had never seen her.



Domitius Enobarus. 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.



Domitius Enobarus. Sir?

Antony. Fulvia is dead.



Domitius Enobarus. Fulvia!

Antony. Dead.



Domitius Enobarus. 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 crowned
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.



Domitius Enobarus. And the business you have broached 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 too
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' the 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.



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 further 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 awaked; 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 received shall be.

Antony. Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know
The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,
As you shall give the advice. By the fire
That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence
Thy soldier, servant; making peace or war
As thou affect'st.



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
Life 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 loved, 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, go'st yet with me,
And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. Away!



(stage directions). [Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA]

Antony. If we compose well here, to Parthia:
Hark, Ventidius.



Lepidus. Noble friends,
That which combined us was most great, and let not
A leaner action rend us. What's amiss,
May it be gently heard: when we debate
Our trivial difference loud, we do commit
Murder in healing wounds: then, noble partners,
The rather, for I earnestly beseech,
Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms,
Nor curstness grow to the matter.

Antony. 'Tis spoken well.
Were we before our armies, and to fight.
I should do thus.



Octavius. Welcome to Rome.

Antony. Thank you.



Octavius. Sit.

Antony. Sit, sir.



Octavius. Nay, then.

Antony. I learn, you take things ill which are not so,
Or being, concern you not.



Octavius. I must be laugh'd at,
If, or for nothing or a little, I
Should say myself offended, and with you
Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at, that I should
Once name you derogately, when to sound your name
It not concern'd me.

Antony. My being in Egypt, Caesar,
What was't to you?



Octavius. No more than my residing here at Rome
Might be to you in Egypt: yet, if you there
Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt
Might be my question.

Antony. How intend you, practised?



Octavius. You may be pleased to catch at mine intent
By what did here befal me. Your wife and brother
Made wars upon me; and their contestation
Was theme for you, you were the word of war.

Antony. You do mistake your business; my brother never
Did urge me in his act: I did inquire it;
And have my learning from some true reports,
That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather
Discredit my authority with yours;
And make the wars alike against my stomach,
Having alike your cause? Of this my letters
Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel,
As matter whole you have not to make it with,
It must not be with this.



Octavius. You praise yourself
By laying defects of judgment to me; but
You patch'd up your excuses.

Antony. Not so, not so;
I know you could not lack, I am certain on't,
Very necessity of this thought, that I,
Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought,
Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars
Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife,
I would you had her spirit in such another:
The third o' the world is yours; which with a snaffle
You may pace easy, but not such a wife.



Domitius Enobarus. Would we had all such wives, that the men might go
to wars with the women!

Antony. So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar
Made out of her impatience, which not wanted
Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant
Did you too much disquiet: for that you must
But say, I could not help it.



Octavius. I wrote to you
When rioting in Alexandria; you
Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts
Did gibe my missive out of audience.

Antony. Sir,
He fell upon me ere admitted: then
Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want
Of what I was i' the morning: but next day
I told him of myself; which was as much
As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow
Be nothing of our strife; if we contend,
Out of our question wipe him.



Lepidus. Soft, Caesar!

Antony. No,
Lepidus, let him speak:
The honour is sacred which he talks on now,
Supposing that I lack'd it. But, on, Caesar;
The article of my oath.



Octavius. To lend me arms and aid when I required them;
The which you both denied.

Antony. Neglected, rather;
And then when poison'd hours had bound me up
From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may,
I'll play the penitent to you: but mine honesty
Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power
Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia,
To have me out of Egypt, made wars here;
For which myself, the ignorant motive, do
So far ask pardon as befits mine honour
To stoop in such a case.



Domitius Enobarus. Or, if you borrow one another's love for the
instant, you may, when you hear no more words of
Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to
wrangle in when you have nothing else to do.

Antony. Thou art a soldier only: speak no more.



Domitius Enobarus. That truth should be silent I had almost forgot.

Antony. You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more.



Octavius. Say not so, Agrippa:
If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof
Were well deserved of rashness.

Antony. I am not married, Caesar: let me hear
Agrippa further speak.



Agrippa. To hold you in perpetual amity,
To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts
With an unslipping knot, take Antony
Octavia to his wife; whose beauty claims
No worse a husband than the best of men;
Whose virtue and whose general graces speak
That which none else can utter. By this marriage,
All little jealousies, which now seem great,
And all great fears, which now import their dangers,
Would then be nothing: truths would be tales,
Where now half tales be truths: her love to both
Would, each to other and all loves to both,
Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke;
For 'tis a studied, not a present thought,
By duty ruminated.

Antony. Will Caesar speak?



Octavius. Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd
With what is spoke already.

Antony. What power is in Agrippa,
If I would say, 'Agrippa, be it so,'
To make this good?



Octavius. The power of Caesar, and
His power unto Octavia.

Antony. May I never
To this good purpose, that so fairly shows,
Dream of impediment! Let me have thy hand:
Further this act of grace: and from this hour
The heart of brothers govern in our loves
And sway our great designs!



Lepidus. Happily, amen!

Antony. I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst Pompey;
For he hath laid strange courtesies and great
Of late upon me: I must thank him only,
Lest my remembrance suffer ill report;
At heel of that, defy him.



Lepidus. Time calls upon's:
Of us must Pompey presently be sought,
Or else he seeks out us.

Antony. Where lies he?



Octavius. About the mount Misenum.

Antony. What is his strength by land?



Octavius. Great and increasing: but by sea
He is an absolute master.

Antony. So is the fame.
Would we had spoke together! Haste we for it:
Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we
The business we have talk'd of.



Octavius. With most gladness:
And do invite you to my sister's view,
Whither straight I'll lead you.

Antony. Let us, Lepidus,
Not lack your company.



(stage directions). [Enter MARK ANTONY, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, OCTAVIA between]
them, and Attendants]

Antony. The world and my great office will sometimes
Divide me from your bosom.



Octavia. All which time
Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers
To them for you.

Antony. Good night, sir. My Octavia,
Read not my blemishes in the world's report:
I have not kept my square; but that to come
Shall all be done by the rule. Good night, dear lady.
Good night, sir.



(stage directions). [Enter Soothsayer]

Antony. Now, sirrah; you do wish yourself in Egypt?



Soothsayer. Would I had never come from thence, nor you Thither!

Antony. If you can, your reason?



Soothsayer. I see it in
My motion, have it not in my tongue: but yet
Hie you to Egypt again.

Antony. Say to me,
Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Caesar's or mine?



Soothsayer. Caesar's.
Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side:
Thy demon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is
Noble, courageous high, unmatchable,
Where Caesar's is not; but, near him, thy angel
Becomes a fear, as being o'erpower'd: therefore
Make space enough between you.

Antony. Speak this no more.



Soothsayer. To none but thee; no more, but when to thee.
If thou dost play with him at any game,
Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck,
He beats thee 'gainst the odds: thy lustre thickens,
When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit
Is all afraid to govern thee near him;
But, he away, 'tis noble.

Antony. Get thee gone:
Say to Ventidius I would speak with him:
[Exit Soothsayer]
He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap,
He hath spoken true: the very dice obey him;
And in our sports my better cunning faints
Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds;
His cocks do win the battle still of mine,
When it is all to nought; and his quails ever
Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds. I will to Egypt:
And though I make this marriage for my peace,
I' the east my pleasure lies.
O, come, Ventidius,
You must to Parthia: your commission's ready;
Follow me, and receive't.



Octavius. Take your time.

Antony. Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails;
We'll speak with thee at sea: at land, thou know'st
How much we do o'er-count thee.



Octavius. There's the point.

Antony. Which do not be entreated to, but weigh
What it is worth embraced.



Pompey. Know, then,
I came before you here a man prepared
To take this offer: but Mark Antony
Put me to some impatience: though I lose
The praise of it by telling, you must know,
When Caesar and your brother were at blows,
Your mother came to Sicily and did find
Her welcome friendly.

Antony. I have heard it, Pompey;
And am well studied for a liberal thanks
Which I do owe you.



Pompey. Let me have your hand:
I did not think, sir, to have met you here.

Antony. The beds i' the east are soft; and thanks to you,
That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither;
For I have gain'd by 't.



Pompey. We'll feast each other ere we part; and let's
Draw lots who shall begin.

Antony. That will I, Pompey.



Pompey. No, Antony, take the lot: but, first
Or last, your fine Egyptian cookery
Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar
Grew fat with feasting there.

Antony. You have heard much.



Pompey. I have fair meanings, sir.

Antony. And fair words to them.



First Servant. To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen
to move in't, are the holes where eyes should be,
which pitifully disaster the cheeks.
[A sennet sounded. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK]
DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MENAS, with other captains]

Antony. [To OCTAVIUS CAESAR] Thus do they, sir: they take
the flow o' the Nile
By certain scales i' the pyramid; they know,
By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth
Or foison follow: the higher Nilus swells,
The more it promises: as it ebbs, the seedsman
Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain,
And shortly comes to harvest.



Lepidus. You've strange serpents there.

Antony. Ay, Lepidus.



Lepidus. Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the
operation of your sun: so is your crocodile.

Antony. They are so.



Lepidus. What manner o' thing is your crocodile?

Antony. It is shaped, sir, like itself; and it is as broad
as it hath breadth: it is just so high as it is,
and moves with its own organs: it lives by that
which nourisheth it; and the elements once out of
it, it transmigrates.



Lepidus. What colour is it of?

Antony. Of it own colour too.



Lepidus. 'Tis a strange serpent.

Antony. 'Tis so. And the tears of it are wet.



Octavius. Will this description satisfy him?

Antony. With the health that Pompey gives him, else he is a
very epicure.



Pompey. Thou hast served me with much faith. What's else to say?
Be jolly, lords.

Antony. These quick-sands, Lepidus,
Keep off them, for you sink.



Pompey. This health to Lepidus!

Antony. Bear him ashore. I'll pledge it for him, Pompey.



Pompey. This is not yet an Alexandrian feast.

Antony. It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho?
Here is to Caesar!



Octavius. I could well forbear't.
It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain,
And it grows fouler.

Antony. Be a child o' the time.



Pompey. Let's ha't, good soldier.

Antony. Come, let's all take hands,
Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense
In soft and delicate Lethe.



Pompey. I'll try you on the shore.

Antony. And shall, sir; give's your hand.



(stage directions). [Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA]

Antony. No further, sir.



Octavius. You take from me a great part of myself;
Use me well in 't. Sister, prove such a wife
As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest band
Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony,
Let not the piece of virtue, which is set
Betwixt us as the cement of our love,
To keep it builded, be the ram to batter
The fortress of it; for better might we
Have loved without this mean, if on both parts
This be not cherish'd.

Antony. Make me not offended
In your distrust.



Octavius. I have said.

Antony. You shall not find,
Though you be therein curious, the least cause
For what you seem to fear: so, the gods keep you,
And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends!
We will here part.



Octavia. My noble brother!

Antony. The April 's in her eyes: it is love's spring,
And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful.



Octavia. I'll tell you in your ear.

Antony. Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can
Her heart inform her tongue,—the swan's
That stands upon the swell at full of tide,
And neither way inclines.



Octavius. No, sweet Octavia,
You shall hear from me still; the time shall not
Out-go my thinking on you.

Antony. Come, sir, come;
I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love:
Look, here I have you; thus I let you go,
And give you to the gods.



(stage directions). [Kisses OCTAVIA]

Antony. Farewell!



(stage directions). [Enter MARK ANTONY and OCTAVIA]

Antony. Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that,—
That were excusable, that, and thousands more
Of semblable import,—but he hath waged
New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it
To public ear:
Spoke scantly of me: when perforce he could not
But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly
He vented them; most narrow measure lent me:
When the best hint was given him, he not took't,
Or did it from his teeth.



Octavia. O my good lord,
Believe not all; or, if you must believe,
Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady,
If this division chance, ne'er stood between,
Praying for both parts:
The good gods me presently,
When I shall pray, 'O bless my lord and husband!'
Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud,
'O, bless my brother!' Husband win, win brother,
Prays, and destroys the prayer; no midway
'Twixt these extremes at all.

Antony. Gentle Octavia,
Let your best love draw to that point, which seeks
Best to preserve it: if I lose mine honour,
I lose myself: better I were not yours
Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested,
Yourself shall go between 's: the mean time, lady,
I'll raise the preparation of a war
Shall stain your brother: make your soonest haste;
So your desires are yours.



Octavia. Thanks to my lord.
The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak,
Your reconciler! Wars 'twixt you twain would be
As if the world should cleave, and that slain men
Should solder up the rift.

Antony. When it appears to you where this begins,
Turn your displeasure that way: for our faults
Can never be so equal, that your love
Can equally move with them. Provide your going;
Choose your own company, and command what cost
Your heart has mind to.



(stage directions). [Enter MARK ANTONY and CANIDIUS]

Antony. Is it not strange, Canidius,
That from Tarentum and Brundusium
He could so quickly cut the Ionian sea,
And take in Toryne? You have heard on't, sweet?



Cleopatra. Celerity is never more admired
Than by the negligent.

Antony. A good rebuke,
Which might have well becomed the best of men,
To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we
Will fight with him by sea.



Canidius. Why will my lord do so?

Antony. For that he dares us to't.



Domitius Enobarus. Your ships are not well mann'd;
Your mariners are muleters, reapers, people
Ingross'd by swift impress; in Caesar's fleet
Are those that often have 'gainst Pompey fought:
Their ships are yare; yours, heavy: no disgrace
Shall fall you for refusing him at sea,
Being prepared for land.

Antony. By sea, by sea.



Domitius Enobarus. Most worthy sir, you therein throw away
The absolute soldiership you have by land;
Distract your army, which doth most consist
Of war-mark'd footmen; leave unexecuted
Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego
The way which promises assurance; and
Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard,
From firm security.

Antony. I'll fight at sea.



Cleopatra. I have sixty sails, Caesar none better.

Antony. Our overplus of shipping will we burn;
And, with the rest full-mann'd, from the head of Actium
Beat the approaching Caesar. But if we fail,
We then can do't at land.
[Enter a Messenger]
Thy business?



Messenger. The news is true, my lord; he is descried;
Caesar has taken Toryne.

Antony. Can he be there in person? 'tis impossible;
Strange that power should be. Canidius,
Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land,
And our twelve thousand horse. We'll to our ship:
Away, my Thetis!
[Enter a Soldier]
How now, worthy soldier?



Soldier. O noble emperor, do not fight by sea;
Trust not to rotten planks: do you misdoubt
This sword and these my wounds? Let the Egyptians
And the Phoenicians go a-ducking; we
Have used to conquer, standing on the earth,
And fighting foot to foot.

Antony. Well, well: away!



(stage directions). [Enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]

Antony. Set we our squadrons on yond side o' the hill,
In eye of Caesar's battle; from which place
We may the number of the ships behold,
And so proceed accordingly.



(stage directions). [Enter MARK ANTONY with Attendants]

Antony. Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon't;
It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither:
I am so lated in the world, that I
Have lost my way for ever: I have a ship
Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly,
And make your peace with Caesar.



All. Fly! not we.

Antony. I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards
To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone;
I have myself resolved upon a course
Which has no need of you; be gone:
My treasure's in the harbour, take it. O,
I follow'd that I blush to look upon:
My very hairs do mutiny; for the white
Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them
For fear and doting. Friends, be gone: you shall
Have letters from me to some friends that will
Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad,
Nor make replies of loathness: take the hint
Which my despair proclaims; let that be left
Which leaves itself: to the sea-side straightway:
I will possess you of that ship and treasure.
Leave me, I pray, a little: pray you now:
Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command,
Therefore I pray you: I'll see you by and by.
[Sits down]



Cleopatra. Let me sit down. O Juno!

Antony. No, no, no, no, no.



Eros. See you here, sir?

Antony. O fie, fie, fie!



Eros. Sir, sir,—

Antony. Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept
His sword e'en like a dancer; while I struck
The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I
That the mad Brutus ended: he alone
Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practise had
In the brave squares of war: yet now—No matter.



Eros. Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches:
Her head's declined, and death will seize her, but
Your comfort makes the rescue.

Antony. I have offended reputation,
A most unnoble swerving.



Eros. Sir, the queen.

Antony. O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See,
How I convey my shame out of thine eyes
By looking back what I have left behind
'Stroy'd in dishonour.



Cleopatra. O my lord, my lord,
Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought
You would have follow'd.

Antony. Egypt, thou knew'st too well
My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings,
And thou shouldst tow me after: o'er my spirit
Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that
Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods
Command me.



Cleopatra. O, my pardon!

Antony. Now I must
To the young man send humble treaties, dodge
And palter in the shifts of lowness; who
With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased,
Making and marring fortunes. You did know
How much you were my conqueror; and that
My sword, made weak by my affection, would
Obey it on all cause.



Cleopatra. Pardon, pardon!

Antony. Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates
All that is won and lost: give me a kiss;
Even this repays me. We sent our schoolmaster;
Is he come back? Love, I am full of lead.
Some wine, within there, and our viands! Fortune knows
We scorn her most when most she offers blows.



(stage directions). [Enter MARK ANTONY with EUPHRONIUS, the Ambassador]

Antony. Is that his answer?



Euphronius. Ay, my lord.

Antony. The queen shall then have courtesy, so she
Will yield us up.



Euphronius. He says so.

Antony. Let her know't.
To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head,
And he will fill thy wishes to the brim
With principalities.



Cleopatra. That head, my lord?

Antony. To him again: tell him he wears the rose
Of youth upon him; from which the world should note
Something particular: his coin, ships, legions,
May be a coward's; whose ministers would prevail
Under the service of a child as soon
As i' the command of Caesar: I dare him therefore
To lay his gay comparisons apart,
And answer me declined, sword against sword,
Ourselves alone. I'll write it: follow me.



(stage directions). [Re-enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]

Antony. Favours, by Jove that thunders!
What art thou, fellow?



Domitius Enobarus. [Aside] You will be whipp'd.

Antony. Approach, there! Ah, you kite! Now, gods
and devils!
Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried 'Ho!'
Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth,
And cry 'Your will?' Have you no ears? I am
Antony yet.
[Enter Attendants]
Take hence this Jack, and whip him.



Domitius Enobarus. [Aside] 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp
Than with an old one dying.

Antony. Moon and stars!
Whip him. Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries
That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them
So saucy with the hand of she here,—what's her name,
Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows,
Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face,
And whine aloud for mercy: take him hence.



Thyreus. Mark Antony!

Antony. Tug him away: being whipp'd,
Bring him again: this Jack of Caesar's shall
Bear us an errand to him.
[Exeunt Attendants with THYREUS]
You were half blasted ere I knew you: ha!
Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome,
Forborne the getting of a lawful race,
And by a gem of women, to be abused
By one that looks on feeders?



Cleopatra. Good my lord,—

Antony. You have been a boggler ever:
But when we in our viciousness grow hard—
O misery on't!—the wise gods seel our eyes;
In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us
Adore our errors; laugh at's, while we strut
To our confusion.



Cleopatra. O, is't come to this?

Antony. I found you as a morsel cold upon
Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment
Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours,
Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have
Luxuriously pick'd out: for, I am sure,
Though you can guess what temperance should be,
You know not what it is.



Cleopatra. Wherefore is this?

Antony. To let a fellow that will take rewards
And say 'God quit you!' be familiar with
My playfellow, your hand; this kingly seal
And plighter of high hearts! O, that I were
Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar
The horned herd! for I have savage cause;
And to proclaim it civilly, were like
A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank
For being yare about him.
[Re-enter Attendants with THYREUS]
Is he whipp'd?



First Attendant. Soundly, my lord.

Antony. Cried he? and begg'd a' pardon?



First Attendant. He did ask favour.

Antony. If that thy father live, let him repent
Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry
To follow Caesar in his triumph, since
Thou hast been whipp'd for following him: henceforth
The white hand of a lady fever thee,
Shake thou to look on 't. Get thee back to Caesar,
Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou say
He makes me angry with him; for he seems
Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was: he makes me angry;
And at this time most easy 'tis to do't,
When my good stars, that were my former guides,
Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires
Into the abysm of hell. If he mislike
My speech and what is done, tell him he has
Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he shall like, to quit me: urge it thou:
Hence with thy stripes, begone!



Cleopatra. Have you done yet?

Antony. Alack, our terrene moon
Is now eclipsed; and it portends alone
The fall of Antony!



Cleopatra. I must stay his time.

Antony. To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes
With one that ties his points?



Cleopatra. Not know me yet?

Antony. Cold-hearted toward me?



Cleopatra. Ah, dear, if I be so,
From my cold heart let heaven engender hail,
And poison it in the source; and the first stone
Drop in my neck: as it determines, so
Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite!
Till by degrees the memory of my womb,
Together with my brave Egyptians all,
By the discandying of this pelleted storm,
Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile
Have buried them for prey!

Antony. I am satisfied.
Caesar sits down in Alexandria; where
I will oppose his fate. Our force by land
Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too
Have knit again, and fleet, threatening most sea-like.
Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady?
If from the field I shall return once more
To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood;
I and my sword will earn our chronicle:
There's hope in't yet.



Cleopatra. That's my brave lord!

Antony. I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breathed,
And fight maliciously: for when mine hours
Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives
Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth,
And send to darkness all that stop me. Come,
Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me
All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more;
Let's mock the midnight bell.



Cleopatra. It is my birth-day:
I had thought to have held it poor: but, since my lord
Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.

Antony. We will yet do well.



Cleopatra. Call all his noble captains to my lord.

Antony. Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force
The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen;
There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight,
I'll make death love me; for I will contend
Even with his pestilent scythe.



CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, with others]

Antony. He will not fight with me, Domitius.



Domitius Enobarus. No.

Antony. Why should he not?



Domitius Enobarus. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,
He is twenty men to one.

Antony. To-morrow, soldier,
By sea and land I'll fight: or I will live,
Or bathe my dying honour in the blood
Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well?



Domitius Enobarus. I'll strike, and cry 'Take all.'

Antony. Well said; come on.
Call forth my household servants: let's to-night
Be bounteous at our meal.
[Enter three or four Servitors]
Give me thy hand,
Thou hast been rightly honest;—so hast thou;—
Thou,—and thou,—and thou:—you have served me well,
And kings have been your fellows.



Domitius Enobarus. [Aside to CLEOPATRA] 'Tis one of those odd
tricks which sorrow shoots
Out of the mind.

Antony. And thou art honest too.
I wish I could be made so many men,
And all of you clapp'd up together in
An Antony, that I might do you service
So good as you have done.



All. The gods forbid!

Antony. Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night:
Scant not my cups; and make as much of me
As when mine empire was your fellow too,
And suffer'd my command.



Domitius Enobarus. [Aside to CLEOPATRA] To make his followers weep.

Antony. Tend me to-night;
May be it is the period of your duty:
Haply you shall not see me more; or if,
A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow
You'll serve another master. I look on you
As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends,
I turn you not away; but, like a master
Married to your good service, stay till death:
Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more,
And the gods yield you for't!



Domitius Enobarus. What mean you, sir,
To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep;
And I, an ass, am onion-eyed: for shame,
Transform us not to women.

Antony. Ho, ho, ho!
Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus!
Grace grow where those drops fall!
My hearty friends,
You take me in too dolorous a sense;
For I spake to you for your comfort; did desire you
To burn this night with torches: know, my hearts,
I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you
Where rather I'll expect victorious life
Than death and honour. Let's to supper, come,
And drown consideration.



(stage directions). [Enter MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and]
others attending]

Antony. Eros! mine armour, Eros!



Cleopatra. Sleep a little.

Antony. No, my chuck. Eros, come; mine armour, Eros!
[Enter EROS with armour]
Come good fellow, put mine iron on:
If fortune be not ours to-day, it is
Because we brave her: come.



Cleopatra. Nay, I'll help too.
What's this for?

Antony. Ah, let be, let be! thou art
The armourer of my heart: false, false; this, this.



Cleopatra. Sooth, la, I'll help: thus it must be.

Antony. Well, well;
We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good fellow?
Go put on thy defences.



Cleopatra. Is not this buckled well?

Antony. Rarely, rarely:
He that unbuckles this, till we do please
To daff't for our repose, shall hear a storm.
Thou fumblest, Eros; and my queen's a squire
More tight at this than thou: dispatch. O love,
That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew'st
The royal occupation! thou shouldst see
A workman in't.
[Enter an armed Soldier]
Good morrow to thee; welcome:
Thou look'st like him that knows a warlike charge:
To business that we love we rise betime,
And go to't with delight.



All. Good morrow, general.

Antony. 'Tis well blown, lads:
This morning, like the spirit of a youth
That means to be of note, begins betimes.
So, so; come, give me that: this way; well said.
Fare thee well, dame, whate'er becomes of me:
This is a soldier's kiss: rebukeable
[Kisses her]
And worthy shameful cheque it were, to stand
On more mechanic compliment; I'll leave thee
Now, like a man of steel. You that will fight,
Follow me close; I'll bring you to't. Adieu.



Soldier. The gods make this a happy day to Antony!

Antony. Would thou and those thy scars had once prevail'd
To make me fight at land!



Soldier. Hadst thou done so,
The kings that have revolted, and the soldier
That has this morning left thee, would have still
Follow'd thy heels.

Antony. Who's gone this morning?



Soldier. Who!
One ever near thee: call for Enobarbus,
He shall not hear thee; or from Caesar's camp
Say 'I am none of thine.'

Antony. What say'st thou?



Eros. Sir, his chests and treasure
He has not with him.

Antony. Is he gone?



Soldier. Most certain.

Antony. Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it;
Detain no jot, I charge thee: write to him—
I will subscribe—gentle adieus and greetings;
Say that I wish he never find more cause
To change a master. O, my fortunes have
Corrupted honest men! Dispatch.—Enobarbus!



Scarus. O my brave emperor, this is fought indeed!
Had we done so at first, we had droven them home
With clouts about their heads.

Antony. Thou bleed'st apace.



Scarus. I had a wound here that was like a T,
But now 'tis made an H.

Antony. They do retire.



Scarus. Let us score their backs,
And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind:
'Tis sport to maul a runner.

Antony. I will reward thee
Once for thy spritely comfort, and ten-fold
For thy good valour. Come thee on.



(stage directions). [Alarum. Enter MARK ANTONY, in a march; SCARUS,]
with others]

Antony. We have beat him to his camp: run one before,
And let the queen know of our gests. To-morrow,
Before the sun shall see 's, we'll spill the blood
That has to-day escaped. I thank you all;
For doughty-handed are you, and have fought
Not as you served the cause, but as 't had been
Each man's like mine; you have shown all Hectors.
Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends,
Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears
Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss
The honour'd gashes whole.
Give me thy hand
[Enter CLEOPATRA, attended]
To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts,
Make her thanks bless thee.
O thou day o' the world,
Chain mine arm'd neck; leap thou, attire and all,
Through proof of harness to my heart, and there
Ride on the pants triumphing!



Cleopatra. Lord of lords!
O infinite virtue, comest thou smiling from
The world's great snare uncaught?

Antony. My nightingale,
We have beat them to their beds. What, girl!
though grey
Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha' we
A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can
Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man;
Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand:
Kiss it, my warrior: he hath fought to-day
As if a god, in hate of mankind, had
Destroy'd in such a shape.



Cleopatra. I'll give thee, friend,
An armour all of gold; it was a king's.

Antony. He has deserved it, were it carbuncled
Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand:
Through Alexandria make a jolly march;
Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them:
Had our great palace the capacity
To camp this host, we all would sup together,
And drink carouses to the next day's fate,
Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters,
With brazen din blast you the city's ear;
Make mingle with rattling tabourines;
That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together,
Applauding our approach.



(stage directions). [Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS, with their Army]

Antony. Their preparation is to-day by sea;
We please them not by land.



Scarus. For both, my lord.

Antony. I would they'ld fight i' the fire or i' the air;
We'ld fight there too. But this it is; our foot
Upon the hills adjoining to the city
Shall stay with us: order for sea is given;
They have put forth the haven [—]
Where their appointment we may best discover,
And look on their endeavour.



(stage directions). [Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS]

Antony. Yet they are not join'd: where yond pine
does stand,
I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word
Straight, how 'tis like to go.



(stage directions). [Re-enter MARK ANTONY]

Antony. All is lost;
This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me:
My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder
They cast their caps up and carouse together
Like friends long lost. Triple-turn'd whore!
'tis thou
Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart
Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly;
For when I am revenged upon my charm,
I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone.
O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more:
Fortune and Antony part here; even here
Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts
That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave
Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark'd,
That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am:
O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,—
Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home;
Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,—
Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose,
Beguiled me to the very heart of loss.
What, Eros, Eros!
Ah, thou spell! Avaunt!



Cleopatra. Why is my lord enraged against his love?

Antony. Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving,
And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee,
And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians:
Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot
Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown
For poor'st diminutives, for doits; and let
Patient Octavia plough thy visage up
With her prepared nails.
'Tis well thou'rt gone,
If it be well to live; but better 'twere
Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death
Might have prevented many. Eros, ho!
The shirt of Nessus is upon me: teach me,
Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage:
Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon;
And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club,
Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die:
To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall
Under this plot; she dies for't. Eros, ho!



(stage directions). [Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS]

Antony. Eros, thou yet behold'st me?



Eros. Ay, noble lord.

Antony. Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish;
A vapour sometime like a bear or lion,
A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory
With trees upon't, that nod unto the world,
And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen
these signs;
They are black vesper's pageants.



Eros. Ay, my lord,

Antony. That which is now a horse, even with a thought
The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct,
As water is in water.



Eros. It does, my lord.

Antony. My good knave Eros, now thy captain is
Even such a body: here I am Antony:
Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave.
I made these wars for Egypt: and the queen,—
Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine;
Which whilst it was mine had annex'd unto't
A million more, now lost,—she, Eros, has
Pack'd cards with Caesar, and false-play'd my glory
Unto an enemy's triumph.
Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us
Ourselves to end ourselves.
O! thy vile lady!
She has robb'd me of my sword.



Mardian. No, Antony;
My mistress loved thee, and her fortunes mingled
With thine entirely.

Antony. Hence, saucy eunuch; peace!
She hath betray'd me and shall die the death.



Mardian. Death of one person can be paid but once,
And that she has discharged: what thou wouldst do
Is done unto thy hand: the last she spake
Was 'Antony! most noble Antony!'
Then in the midst a tearing groan did break
The name of Antony; it was divided
Between her heart and lips: she render'd life,
Thy name so buried in her.

Antony. Dead, then?



Mardian. Dead.

Antony. Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done,
And we must sleep.
That thou depart'st hence safe,
Does pay thy labour richly; go.
Off, pluck off:
The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep
The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides!
Heart, once be stronger than thy continent,
Crack thy frail case! Apace, Eros, apace.
No more a soldier: bruised pieces, go;
You have been nobly borne. From me awhile.
[Exit EROS]
I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now
All length is torture: since the torch is out,
Lie down, and stray no farther: now all labour
Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles
Itself with strength: seal then, and all is done.
Eros!—I come, my queen:—Eros!—Stay for me:
Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand,
And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze:
Dido and her AEneas shall want troops,
And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros!



Eros. What would my lord?

Antony. Since Cleopatra died,
I have lived in such dishonour, that the gods
Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword
Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back
With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack
The courage of a woman; less noble mind
Than she which by her death our Caesar tells
'I am conqueror of myself.' Thou art sworn, Eros,
That, when the exigent should come, which now
Is come indeed, when I should see behind me
The inevitable prosecution of
Disgrace and horror, that, on my command,
Thou then wouldst kill me: do't; the time is come:
Thou strikest not me, 'tis Caesar thou defeat'st.
Put colour in thy cheek.



Eros. The gods withhold me!
Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts,
Though enemy, lost aim, and could not?

Antony. Eros,
Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome and see
Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down
His corrigible neck, his face subdued
To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat
Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded
His baseness that ensued?



Eros. I would not see't.

Antony. Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured.
Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn
Most useful for thy country.



Eros. O, sir, pardon me!

Antony. When I did make thee free, sworest thou not then
To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once;
Or thy precedent services are all
But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come.



Eros. Turn from me, then, that noble countenance,
Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.

Antony. Lo thee!



Eros. My sword is drawn.

Antony. Then let it do at once
The thing why thou hast drawn it.



Eros. My dear master,
My captain, and my emperor, let me say,
Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.

Antony. 'Tis said, man; and farewell.



Eros. Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now?

Antony. Now, Eros.



(stage directions). [Kills himself]

Antony. Thrice-nobler than myself!
Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what
I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros
Have by their brave instruction got upon me
A nobleness in record: but I will be
A bridegroom in my death, and run into't
As to a lover's bed. Come, then; and, Eros,
Thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus
[Falling on his sword]
I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead?
The guard, ho! O, dispatch me!



First Guard. What's the noise?

Antony. I have done my work in, friends: O, make an end
Of what I have begun.



All. Alas, and woe!

Antony. Let him that loves me strike me dead.



(stage directions). [Exit DERCETAS]

Antony. Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me
Sufficing strokes for death.



Diomedes. Most absolute lord,
My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.

Antony. When did she send thee?



Diomedes. Now, my lord.

Antony. Where is she?



Diomedes. Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear
Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw—
Which never shall be found—you did suspect
She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage
Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead;
But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent
Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come,
I dread, too late.

Antony. Too late, good Diomed: call my guard, I prithee.



(stage directions). [Enter four or five of the Guard of MARK ANTONY]

Antony. Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides;
'Tis the last service that I shall command you.



All. Most heavy day!

Antony. Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate
To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome
Which comes to punish us, and we punish it
Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up:
I have led you oft: carry me now, good friends,
And have my thanks for all.



Cleopatra. O sun,
Burn the great sphere thou movest in!
darkling stand
The varying shore o' the world. O Antony,
Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help;
Help, friends below; let's draw him hither.

Antony. Peace!
Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself.



Cleopatra. So it should be, that none but Antony
Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so!

Antony. I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
I here importune death awhile, until
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay up thy lips.



Cleopatra. I dare not, dear,—
Dear my lord, pardon,—I dare not,
Lest I be taken: not the imperious show
Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall
Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs,
serpents, have
Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe:
Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes
And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour
Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,—
Help me, my women,—we must draw thee up:
Assist, good friends.

Antony. O, quick, or I am gone.



All. A heavy sight!

Antony. I am dying, Egypt, dying:
Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.



Cleopatra. No, let me speak; and let me rail so high,
That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel,
Provoked by my offence.

Antony. One word, sweet queen:
Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O!



Cleopatra. They do not go together.

Antony. Gentle, hear me:
None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.



Cleopatra. My resolution and my hands I'll trust;
None about Caesar.

Antony. The miserable change now at my end
Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts
In feeding them with those my former fortunes
Wherein I lived, the greatest prince o' the world,
The noblest; and do now not basely die,
Not cowardly put off my helmet to
My countryman,—a Roman by a Roman
Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going;
I can no more.

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