The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 26

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 G.o.ds 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 G.o.ds, 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 s.h.i.+nes o'er with civil swords: s.e.xtus 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 G.o.ds 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. 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 compet.i.tor. 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, p.a.w.n 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 n.o.ble 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 wa.s.sails. 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 a.s.semble 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

SCENE V.

Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN

CLEOPATRA. Charmian!

CHARMIAN. Madam?

CLEOPATRA. Ha, ha!

Give me to drink mandragora.

CHARMIAN. Why, madam?

CLEOPATRA. That I might sleep out this great gap of time My Antony is away.

CHARMIAN. You think of him too much.

CLEOPATRA. O, 'tis treason!

CHARMIAN. Madam, I trust, not so.

CLEOPATRA. Thou, eunuch Mardian!

MARDIAN. What's your Highness' pleasure?

CLEOPATRA. Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure In aught an eunuch has. 'Tis well for thee That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?

MARDIAN. Yes, gracious madam.

CLEOPATRA. Indeed?

MARDIAN. Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing But what indeed is honest to be done.

Yet have I fierce affections, and think What Venus did with Mars.

CLEOPATRA. O Charmian, Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he or sits he?

Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?

O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!

Do bravely, horse; for wot'st thou whom thou mov'st?

The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm And burgonet of men. He's speaking now, Or murmuring 'Where's my serpent of old Nile?'

For so he calls me. Now I feed myself With most delicious poison. Think on me, That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black, And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar, When thou wast here above the ground, I was A morsel for a monarch; and great Pompey Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow; There would he anchor his aspect and die With looking on his life.

Enter ALEXAS