Antony and Cleopatra | Page 5

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.]
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 a
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 lowering, 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--ho, 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 shower 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 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.
ENOBARBUS.
I shall do't.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. Alexandria. A Room in 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;