Antony and Cleopatra | Page 6

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 thriv'd?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 theadvice. 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 pr'ythee, 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, pr'ythee, 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.]
SCENE IV. Rome. An Apartment in CAESAR'S House.
[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, LEPIDUS, and Attendants.]
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