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.
CHARMIAN
Madam, , 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
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.
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 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 betrayed! 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 , the greatest soldier of the world,
Art turned the greatest liar.
ANTONY
How now, lady!
CLEOPATRA
I would I had inches, 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 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 condemned 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 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 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 th’ advice. By the fire
That quickens Nilus’ slime, I go from
soldier, servant, making peace or war
As 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 , 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, , 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
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 ;
Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly,
And all the gods go with you! Upon your sword
Sit laurel victory, and smooth success
Be strewed before your feet!
ANTONY
Let us go. Come.
Our separation so abides and flies
That , residing here, goes yet with me,
And I, fleeting, here remain with .
Away!