MAECENAS. Welcome, dear madam.
Each heart in Rome does love and pity you; Only th’ adulterous Antony, most large In his abominations, turns you off,
And gives his potent regiment to a trull That noises it against us.
OCTAVIA. Is it so, sir?
CAESAR. Most certain. Sister, welcome. Pray you Be ever known to patience. My dear’st sister! Exeunt
ACT_3|SC_7
SCENE VII.
ANTONY’S camp near Actium
Enter CLEOPATRA and ENOBARBUS
CLEOPATRA. I will be even with thee, doubt it not. ENOBARBUS. But why, why,
CLEOPATRA. Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars, And say’st it is not fit.
ENOBARBUS. Well, is it, is it?
CLEOPATRA. Is’t not denounc’d against us? Why should not we Be there in person?
ENOBARBUS. [Aside] Well, I could reply: If we should serve with horse and mares together The horse were merely lost; the mares would bear A soldier and his horse.
CLEOPATRA. What is’t you say?
ENOBARBUS. Your presence needs must puzzle Antony; Take from his heart, take from his brain, from’s time, What should not then be spar’d. He is already Traduc’d for levity; and ’tis said in Rome That Photinus an eunuch and your maids Manage this war.
CLEOPATRA. Sink Rome, and their tongues rot That speak against us! A charge we bear i’ th’ war, And, as the president of my kingdom, will Appear there for a man. Speak not against it; I will not stay behind.
Enter ANTONY and CANIDIUS
ENOBARBUS. Nay, I have done.
Here comes the Emperor.
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 admir’d Than by the negligent.
ANTONY. A good rebuke,
Which might have well becom’d the best of men To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we
Will fight with him by sea.
CLEOPATRA. By sea! What else?
CANIDIUS. Why will my lord do so?
ANTONY. For that he dares us to’t. ENOBARBUS. So hath my lord dar’d him to single fight. CANIDIUS. Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia, Where Caesar fought with Pompey. But these offers, Which serve not for his vantage, he shakes off; And so should you.
ENOBARBUS. Your ships are not well mann’d; Your mariners are muleteers, 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 prepar’d for land.
ANTONY. By sea, by sea.
ENOBARBUS. 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 forgo 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 th’ head of Actium Beat th’ 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 his 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 th’ Egyptians And the Phoenicians go a-ducking; we
Have us’d to conquer standing on the earth And fighting foot to foot.
ANTONY. Well, well- away.
Exeunt ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, and ENOBARBUS SOLDIER. By Hercules, I think I am i’ th’ right. CANIDIUS. Soldier, thou art; but his whole action grows Not in the power on’t. So our leader’s led, And we are women’s men.
SOLDIER. You keep by land
The legions and the horse whole, do you not? CANIDIUS. Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius, Publicola, and Caelius are for sea;
But we keep whole by land. This speed of Caesar’s Carries beyond belief.
SOLDIER. While he was yet in Rome, His power went out in such distractions as Beguil’d all spies.
CANIDIUS. Who’s his lieutenant, hear you? SOLDIER. They say one Taurus.
CANIDIUS. Well I know the man.
Enter a MESSENGER
MESSENGER. The Emperor calls Canidius. CANIDIUS. With news the time’s with labour and throes forth Each minute some. Exeunt
ACT_3|SC_8
SCENE VIII.
A plain near Actium
Enter CAESAR, with his army, marching
CAESAR. Taurus!
TAURUS. My lord?
CAESAR. Strike not by land; keep whole; provoke not battle Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed The prescript of this scroll. Our fortune lies Upon this jump. Exeunt
ACT_3|SC_9
SCENE IX.
Another part of the plain
Enter ANTONY and ENOBARBUS
ANTONY. Set we our squadrons on yon side o’ th’ hill, In eye of Caesar’s battle; from which place We may the number of the ships behold, And so proceed accordingly. Exeunt
ACT_3|SC_10
SCENE X.
Another part of the plain
CANIDIUS marcheth with his land army one way over the stage, and TAURUS, the Lieutenant of CAESAR, the other way. After their going in is heard the noise of a sea-fight
Alarum. Enter ENOBARBUS
ENOBARBUS. Naught, naught, all naught! I can behold no longer. Th’ Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral,
With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder. To see’t mine eyes are blasted.
Enter SCARUS
SCARUS. Gods and goddesses,
All the whole synod of them!
ENOBARBUS. What’s thy passion?
SCARUS. The greater cantle of the world is lost With very ignorance; we have kiss’d away Kingdoms and provinces.
ENOBARBUS. How appears the fight?
SCARUS. On our side like the token’d pestilence, Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt- Whom leprosy o’ertake!- i’ th’ midst o’ th’ fight, When vantage like a pair of twins appear’d, Both as the same, or rather ours the elder- The breese upon her, like a cow in June- Hoists sails and flies.
ENOBARBUS. That I beheld;
Mine eyes did sicken at the sight and could not Endure a further view.
SCARUS. She once being loof’d,
The noble ruin of her magic, Antony, Claps on his sea-wing, and, like a doting mallard, Leaving the fight in height, flies after her. I never saw an action of such shame;
Experience, manhood, honour, ne’er before Did violate so itself.
ENOBARBUS. Alack, alack!
Enter CANIDIUS
CANIDIUS. Our fortune on the sea is out of breath, And sinks most lamentably. Had our general Been what he knew himself, it had gone well. O, he has given example for our flight Most grossly by his own!
ENOBARBUS. Ay, are you thereabouts? Why then, good night indeed.
CANIDIUS. Toward Peloponnesus are they fled. SCARUS. ‘Tis easy to’t; and there I will attend What further comes.
CANIDIUS. To Caesar will I render
My legions and my horse; six kings already Show me the way of yielding.
ENOBARBUS. I’ll yet follow
The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason Sits in the wind against me. Exeunt
ACT_3|SC_11
SCENE XI.
Alexandria. CLEOPATRA’S palace
Enter ANTONY With attendants
ANTONY. Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon’t; It is asham’d 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 resolv’d 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 straight way. 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]
Enter CLEOPATRA, led by CHARMIAN and IRAS, EROS following
EROS. Nay, gentle madam, to him! Comfort him. IRAS. Do, most dear Queen.
CHARMIAN. Do? Why, what else?
CLEOPATRA. Let me sit down. O Juno! ANTONY. No, no, no, no, no.
EROS. See you here, sir?
ANTONY. O, fie, fie, fie!
CHARMIAN. Madam!
IRAS. Madam, O good Empress!
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 practice had In the brave squares of war. Yet now- no matter. CLEOPATRA. Ah, stand by!
EROS. The Queen, my lord, the Queen! IRAS. Go to him, madam, speak to him.
He is unqualitied with very shame. CLEOPATRA. Well then, sustain me. O!
EROS. Most noble sir, arise; the Queen approaches. Her head’s declin’d, 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 followed.
ANTONY. Egypt, thou knew’st too well My heart was to thy rudder tied by th’ 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’ th’ world play’d as I pleas’d, 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 ‘a 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. Exeunt
ACT_3|SC_12
SCENE XII.
CAESAR’S camp in Egypt
Enter CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, THYREUS, with others
CAESAR. Let him appear that’s come from Antony. Know you him?
DOLABELLA. Caesar, ’tis his schoolmaster: An argument that he is pluck’d, when hither He sends so poor a pinion of his wing, Which had superfluous kings for messengers Not many moons gone by.
Enter EUPHRONIUS, Ambassador from ANTONY
CAESAR. Approach, and speak.
EUPHRONIUS. Such as I am, I come from Antony. I was of late as petty to his ends
As is the morn-dew on the myrtle leaf To his grand sea.
CAESAR. Be’t so. Declare thine office. EUPHRONIUS. Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and Requires to live in Egypt; which not granted, He lessens his requests and to thee sues To let him breathe between the heavens and earth, A private man in Athens. This for him. Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness, Submits her to thy might, and of thee craves The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs, Now hazarded to thy grace.
CAESAR. For Antony,
I have no ears to his request. The Queen Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend, Or take his life there. This if she perform, She shall not sue unheard. So to them both. EUPHRONIUS. Fortune pursue thee!
CAESAR. Bring him through the bands. Exit EUPHRONIUS [To THYREUS] To try thy eloquence, now ’tis time. Dispatch; From Antony win Cleopatra. Promise,
And in our name, what she requires; add more, From thine invention, offers. Women are not In their best fortunes strong; but want will perjure The ne’er-touch’d vestal. Try thy cunning, Thyreus; Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we Will answer as a law.
THYREUS. Caesar, I go.
CAESAR. Observe how Antony becomes his flaw, And what thou think’st his very action speaks In every power that moves.
THYREUS. Caesar, I shall. Exeunt
ACT_3|SC_13
SCENE XIII.
Alexandria. CLEOPATRA’S palace
Enter CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, and IRAS
CLEOPATRA. What shall we do, Enobarbus? ENOBARBUS. Think, and die.
CLEOPATRA. Is Antony or we in fault for this? ENOBARBUS. Antony only, that would make his will Lord of his reason. What though you fled From that great face of war, whose several ranges Frighted each other? Why should he follow? The itch of his affection should not then Have nick’d his captainship, at such a point, When half to half the world oppos’d, he being The mered question. ‘Twas a shame no less Than was his loss, to course your flying flags And leave his navy gazing.
CLEOPATRA. Prithee, peace.
Enter EUPHRONIUS, the Ambassador; with ANTONY
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’ th’ command of Caesar. I dare him therefore To lay his gay comparisons apart,
And answer me declin’d, sword against sword, Ourselves alone. I’ll write it. Follow me. Exeunt ANTONY and EUPHRONIUS EUPHRONIUS. [Aside] Yes, like enough high-battled Caesar will Unstate his happiness, and be stag’d to th’ show Against a sworder! I see men’s judgments are A parcel of their fortunes, and things outward Do draw the inward quality after them, To suffer all alike. That he should dream, Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will Answer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subdu’d His judgment too.
Enter a SERVANT
SERVANT. A messenger from Caesar.
CLEOPATRA. What, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel’d unto the buds. Admit him, sir. Exit SERVANT ENOBARBUS. [Aside] Mine honesty and I begin to square. The loyalty well held to fools does make Our faith mere folly. Yet he that can endure To follow with allegiance a fall’n lord Does conquer him that did his master conquer, And earns a place i’ th’ story.
Enter THYREUS
CLEOPATRA. Caesar’s will?
THYREUS. Hear it apart.
CLEOPATRA. None but friends: say boldly. THYREUS. So, haply, are they friends to Antony. ENOBARBUS. He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has, Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master Will leap to be his friend. For us, you know Whose he is we are, and that is Caesar’s. THYREUS. So.
Thus then, thou most renown’d: Caesar entreats Not to consider in what case thou stand’st Further than he is Caesar.
CLEOPATRA. Go on. Right royal!
THYREUS. He knows that you embrace not Antony As you did love, but as you fear’d him. CLEOPATRA. O!
THYREUS. The scars upon your honour, therefore, he Does pity, as constrained blemishes,
Not as deserv’d.
CLEOPATRA. He is a god, and knows
What is most right. Mine honour was not yielded, But conquer’d merely.
ENOBARBUS. [Aside] To be sure of that, I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for Thy dearest quit thee. Exit THYREUS. Shall I say to Caesar
What you require of him? For he partly begs To be desir’d to give. It much would please him That of his fortunes you should make a staff To lean upon. But it would warm his spirits To hear from me you had left Antony,
And put yourself under his shroud, The universal landlord.
CLEOPATRA. What’s your name?
THYREUS. My name is Thyreus.
CLEOPATRA. Most kind messenger,
Say to great Caesar this: in deputation I kiss his conquring hand. Tell him I am prompt To lay my crown at ‘s feet, and there to kneel. Tell him from his all-obeying breath I hear The doom of Egypt.
THYREUS. ‘Tis your noblest course. Wisdom and fortune combating together, If that the former dare but what it can, No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay My duty on your hand.
CLEOPATRA. Your Caesar’s father oft, When he hath mus’d of taking kingdoms in, Bestow’d his lips on that unworthy place, As it rain’d kisses.
Re-enter ANTONY and ENOBARBUS
ANTONY. Favours, by Jove that thunders! What art thou, fellow?
THYREUS. One that but performs
The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest To have command obey’d.
ENOBARBUS. [Aside] You will be whipt. 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 servants
Take hence this Jack and whip him.
ENOBARBUS. ‘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. THYMUS. Mark Antony-
ANTONY. Tug him away. Being whipt, Bring him again: the Jack of Caesar’s shall Bear us an errand to him. Exeunt servants 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 abus’d
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, Unregist’red 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 a SERVANT with THYREUS
Is he whipt?
SERVANT. Soundly, my lord.
ANTONY. Cried he? and begg’d ‘a pardon? SERVANT. 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 whipt 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 th’ 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, be gone. Exit THYREUS CLEOPATRA. Have you done yet?
ANTONY. Alack, our terrene moon
Is now eclips’d, 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 to
Have knit again, and fleet, threat’ning 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, breath’d, 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 birthday.
I had thought t’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. Exeunt all but ENOBARBUS ENOBARBUS. Now he’ll outstare the lightning. To be furious Is to be frighted out of fear, and in that mood The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still A diminution in our captain’s brain
Restores his heart. When valour preys on reason, It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek Some way to leave him. Exit
ACT_4|SC_1
ACT IV. SCENE I.
CAESAR’S camp before Alexandria
Enter CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MAECENAS, with his army; CAESAR reading a letter
CAESAR. He calls me boy, and chides as he had power To beat me out of Egypt. My messenger
He hath whipt with rods; dares me to personal combat, Caesar to Antony. Let the old ruffian know I have many other ways to die, meantime Laugh at his challenge.
MAECENAS. Caesar must think
When one so great begins to rage, he’s hunted Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now Make boot of his distraction. Never anger Made good guard for itself.
CAESAR. Let our best heads
Know that to-morrow the last of many battles We mean to fight. Within our files there are Of those that serv’d Mark Antony but late Enough to fetch him in. See it done;
And feast the army; we have store to do’t, And they have earn’d the waste. Poor Antony! Exeunt
ACT_4|SC_2
SCENE II.
Alexandria. CLEOPATRA’s palace
Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, with others
ANTONY. He will not fight with me, Domitius? ENOBARBUS. No.
ANTONY. Why should he not?
ENOBARBUS. 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? ENOBARBUS. 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 has been rightly honest. So hast thou; Thou, and thou, and thou. You have serv’d me well, And kings have been your fellows.
CLEOPATRA. [Aside to ENOBARBUS] What means this? ENOBARBUS. [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.
SERVANT. 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.
CLEOPATRA. [Aside to ENOBARBUS] What does he mean? ENOBARBUS. [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!
ENOBARBUS. What mean you, sir,
To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep; And I, an ass, am onion-ey’d. 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. Exeunt
ACT_4|SC_3
SCENE III.
Alexandria. Before CLEOPATRA’s palace
Enter a company of soldiers
FIRST SOLDIER. Brother, good night. To-morrow is the day. SECOND SOLDIER. It will determine one way. Fare you well. Heard you of nothing strange about the streets? FIRST SOLDIER. Nothing. What news?
SECOND SOLDIER. Belike ’tis but a rumour. Good night to you. FIRST SOLDIER. Well, sir, good night.
[They meet other soldiers] SECOND SOLDIER. Soldiers, have careful watch. FIRST SOLDIER. And you. Good night, good night. [The two companies separate and place themselves in every corner of the stage] SECOND SOLDIER. Here we. And if to-morrow Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope Our landmen will stand up.
THIRD SOLDIER. ‘Tis a brave army,
And full of purpose.
[Music of the hautboys is under the stage] SECOND SOLDIER. Peace, what noise?
THIRD SOLDIER. List, list!
SECOND SOLDIER. Hark!
THIRD SOLDIER. Music i’ th’ air.
FOURTH SOLDIER. Under the earth.
THIRD SOLDIER. It signs well, does it not? FOURTH SOLDIER. No.
THIRD SOLDIER. Peace, I say!
What should this mean?
SECOND SOLDIER. ‘Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony lov’d, Now leaves him.
THIRD SOLDIER. Walk; let’s see if other watchmen Do hear what we do.
SECOND SOLDIER. How now, masters!
SOLDIERS. [Speaking together] How now! How now! Do you hear this?
FIRST SOLDIER. Ay; is’t not strange? THIRD SOLDIER. Do you hear, masters? Do you hear? FIRST SOLDIER. Follow the noise so far as we have quarter; Let’s see how it will give off.
SOLDIERS. Content. ‘Tis strange. Exeunt
ACT_4|SC_4
SCENE IV.
Alexandria. CLEOPATRA’s palace
Enter ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, with others
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.
EROS. Briefly, sir.
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.
SOLDIER. A thousand, sir,
Early though’t be, have on their riveted trim, And at the port expect you.
[Shout. Flourish of trumpets within]
Enter CAPTAINS and soldiers
CAPTAIN. The morn is fair. Good morrow, General. 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,
And worthy shameful check 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. Exeunt ANTONY, EROS, CAPTAINS and soldiers CHARMIAN. Please you retire to your chamber? CLEOPATRA. Lead me.
He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar might Determine this great war in single fight! Then, Antony- but now. Well, on. Exeunt
ACT_4|SC_5
SCENE V.
Alexandria. ANTONY’S camp
Trumpets sound. Enter ANTONY and EROS, a SOLDIER meeting them
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 Followed 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?
SOLDIER. Sir,
He is with Caesar.
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! Exeunt
ACT_4|SC_6
SCENE VI.
Alexandria. CAESAR’S camp
Flourish. Enter AGRIPPA, CAESAR, With DOLABELLA and ENOBARBUS
CAESAR. Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight. Our will is Antony be took alive;
Make it so known.
AGRIPPA. Caesar, I shall. Exit CAESAR. The time of universal peace is near. Prove this a prosp’rous day, the three-nook’d world Shall bear the olive freely.
Enter A MESSENGER
MESSENGER. Antony
Is come into the field.
CAESAR. Go charge Agrippa
Plant those that have revolted in the vant, That Antony may seem to spend his fury Upon himself. Exeunt all but ENOBARBUS ENOBARBUS. Alexas did revolt and went to Jewry on Affairs of Antony; there did dissuade
Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar And leave his master Antony. For this pains Casaer hath hang’d him. Canidius and the rest That fell away have entertainment, but No honourable trust. I have done ill,
Of which I do accuse myself so sorely That I will joy no more.
Enter a SOLDIER of CAESAR’S
SOLDIER. Enobarbus, Antony
Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with His bounty overplus. The messenger
Came on my guard, and at thy tent is now Unloading of his mules.
ENOBARBUS. I give it you.
SOLDIER. Mock not, Enobarbus.
I tell you true. Best you saf’d the bringer Out of the host. I must attend mine office, Or would have done’t myself. Your emperor Continues still a Jove. Exit ENOBARBUS. I am alone the villain of the earth, And feel I am so most. O Antony,
Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid My better service, when my turpitude
Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart. If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean Shall outstrike thought; but thought will do’t, I feel. I fight against thee? No! I will go seek Some ditch wherein to die; the foul’st best fits My latter part of life. Exit
ACT_4|SC_7
SCENE VII.
Field of battle between the camps
Alarum. Drums and trumpets. Enter AGRIPPA and others
AGRIPPA. Retire. We have engag’d ourselves too far. Caesar himself has work, and our oppression Exceeds what we expected. Exeunt
Alarums. Enter ANTONY, and SCARUS wounded
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. We’ll beat’em into bench-holes. I have yet Room for six scotches more.
Enter EROS
EROS. They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves For a fair victory.
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 sprightly comfort, and tenfold For thy good valour. Come thee on.
SCARUS. I’ll halt after. Exeunt
ACT_4|SC_8
SCENE VIII.
Under the walls of Alexandria
Alarum. Enter ANTONY, again 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 escap’d. I thank you all; For doughty-handed are you, and have fought Not as you serv’d 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.
Enter CLEOPATRA, attended
[To SCARUS] Give me thy hand-
To this great fairy I’ll commend thy acts, Make her thanks bless thee. O thou day o’ th’ 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, com’st thou smiling from The world’s great snare uncaught?
ANTONY. Mine 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
Destroyed in such a shape.
CLEOPATRA. I’ll give thee, friend, An armour all of gold; it was a king’s. ANTONY. He has deserv’d 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 our rattling tabourines, That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together Applauding our approach. Exeunt
ACT_4|SC_9
SCENE IX.
CAESAR’S camp
Enter a CENTURION and his company; ENOBARBUS follows
CENTURION. If we be not reliev’d within this hour, We must return to th’ court of guard. The night Is shiny, and they say we shall embattle By th’ second hour i’ th’ morn.
FIRST WATCH. This last day was
A shrewd one to’s.
ENOBARBUS. O, bear me witness, night- SECOND WATCH. What man is this?
FIRST WATCH. Stand close and list him. ENOBARBUS. Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon, When men revolted shall upon record
Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did Before thy face repent!
CENTURION. Enobarbus?
SECOND WATCH. Peace!
Hark further.
ENOBARBUS. O sovereign mistress of true melancholy, The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me, That life, a very rebel to my will,
May hang no longer on me. Throw my heart Against the flint and hardness of my fault, Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder, And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony, Nobler than my revolt is infamous,
Forgive me in thine own particular, But let the world rank me in register
A master-leaver and a fugitive!
O Antony! O Antony! [Dies] FIRST WATCH. Let’s speak to him.
CENTURION. Let’s hear him, for the things he speaks May concern Caesar.
SECOND WATCH. Let’s do so. But he sleeps. CENTURION. Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his Was never yet for sleep.
FIRST WATCH. Go we to him.
SECOND WATCH. Awake, sir, awake; speak to us. FIRST WATCH. Hear you, sir?
CENTURION. The hand of death hath raught him. [Drums afar off ] Hark! the drums
Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him To th’ court of guard; he is of note. Our hour Is fully out.
SECOND WATCH. Come on, then;
He may recover yet. Exeunt with the body
ACT_4|SC_10
SCENE X.
Between the two camps
Enter 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’d fight i’ th’ fire or i’ th’ air; We’d 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. Exeunt
ACT_4|SC_11
SCENE XI.
Between the camps
Enter CAESAR and his army
CAESAR. But being charg’d, we will be still by land, Which, as I take’t, we shall; for his best force Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales, And hold our best advantage. Exeunt
ACT_4|SC_12
SCENE XII.
A hill near Alexandria
Enter 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. Exit SCARUS. Swallows have built
In Cleopatra’s sails their nests. The augurers Say they know not, they cannot tell; look grimly, And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony Is valiant and dejected; and by starts His fretted fortunes give him hope and fear Of what he has and has not.
[Alarum afar off, as at a sea-fight]
Re-enter 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 reveng’d upon my charm,
I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone. Exit SCARUS 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 gypsy hath at fast and loose Beguil’d me to the very heart of loss. What, Eros, Eros!
Enter CLEOPATRA
Ah, thou spell! Avaunt!
CLEOPATRA. Why is my lord enrag’d 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. Exit CLEOPATRA ‘Tis well th’art 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’ th’ 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! Exit
ACT_4|SC_13
SCENE XIII.
Alexandria. CLEOPATRA’s palace
Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN
CLEOPATRA. Help me, my women. O, he is more mad Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly Was never so emboss’d.
CHARMIAN. To th’monument!
There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead. The soul and body rive not more in parting Than greatness going off.
CLEOPATRA. To th’ monument!
Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself; Say that the last I spoke was ‘Antony’ And word it, prithee, piteously. Hence, Mardian, And bring me how he takes my death. To th’ monument! Exeunt
ACT_4|SC_14
SCENE XIV.
CLEOPATRA’S palace
Enter ANTONY and EROS
ANTONY. Eros, thou yet behold’st me? EROS. Ay, noble lord.
ANTONY. Sometime 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 moe, 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.
Enter MARDIAN
O, thy vile lady!
She has robb’d me of my sword.
MARDIAN. No, Antony;
My mistress lov’d 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 discharg’d. 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 rend’red 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. Exit MARDIAN Off, pluck off!
The sevenfold 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!
Re-enter EROS
EROS. What would my lord?
ANTONY. Since Cleopatra died,
I have liv’d 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 Th’ inevitable prosecution of
Disgrace and horror, that, on my command, Thou then wouldst kill me. Do’t; the time is come. Thou strik’st 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 subdu’d
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 cur’d. 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, swor’st thou not then To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once, Or thy precedent services are all
But accidents unpurpos’d. Draw, and come. EROS. Turn from me then that noble countenance, Wherein the worship of the whole world lies. ANTONY. Lo thee! [Turning from him] 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.
EROS. Why, there then! Thus do I escape the sorrow Of Antony’s death. [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!
Enter DERCETAS and a guard
FIRST GUARD. What’s the noise?
ANTONY. I have done my work ill, friends. O, make an end Of what I have begun.
SECOND GUARD. The star is fall’n.
FIRST GUARD. And time is at his period. ALL. Alas, and woe!
ANTONY. Let him that loves me, strike me dead. FIRST GUARD. Not I.
SECOND GUARD. Nor I.
THIRD GUARD. Nor any one. Exeunt guard DERCETAS. Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings, Shall enter me with him.
Enter DIOMEDES
DIOMEDES. Where’s Antony?
DERCETAS. There, Diomed, there.
DIOMEDES. Lives he?
Wilt thou not answer, man? 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 dispos’d with Caesar, and that your rage Would not be purg’d, 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. DIOMEDES. What, ho! the Emperor’s guard! The guard, what ho! Come, your lord calls!
Enter four or five of the guard of ANTONY
ANTONY. Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides; ‘Tis the last service that I shall command you. FIRST GUARD. Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear All your true followers out.
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. Exeunt, hearing ANTONY ACT_4|SC_15
SCENE XV.
Alexandria. A monument
Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids aloft, with CHARMIAN and IRAS
CLEOPATRA. O Charmian, I will never go from hence! CHARMIAN. Be comforted, dear madam.
CLEOPATRA. No, I will not.
All strange and terrible events are welcome, But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow, Proportion’d to our cause, must be as great As that which makes it.
Enter DIOMEDES, below
How now! Is he dead?
DIOMEDES. His death’s upon him, but not dead. Look out o’ th’ other side your monument; His guard have brought him thither.
Enter, below, ANTONY, borne by the guard
CLEOPATRA. O sun,
Burn the great sphere thou mov’st in! Darkling stand The varying shore o’ th’ 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 upon thy lips.
CLEOPATRA. I dare not, dear.
Dear my lord, pardon! I dare not, Lest I be taken. Not th’ imperious show Of the full-fortun’d 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.
CLEOPATRA. Here’s sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord! Our strength is all gone into heaviness; That makes the weight. Had I great Juno’s power, The strong-wing’d Mercury should fetch thee up, And set thee by Jove’s side. Yet come a little. Wishers were ever fools. O come, come, [They heave ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRA] And welcome, welcome! Die where thou hast liv’d. Quicken with kissing. Had my lips that power, Thus would I wear them out.
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 huswife Fortune break her wheel, Provok’d 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 liv’d the greatest prince o’ th’ 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.
CLEOPATRA. Noblest of men, woo’t die? Hast thou no care of me? Shall I abide In this dull world, which in thy absence is No better than a sty? O, see, my women, [Antony dies] The crown o’ th’ earth doth melt. My lord! O, wither’d is the garland of the war, The soldier’s pole is fall’n! Young boys and girls Are level now with men. The odds is gone, And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting moon. [Swoons] CHARMIAN. O, quietness, lady!
IRAS. She’s dead too, our sovereign. CHARMIAN. Lady!
IRAS. Madam!
CHARMIAN. O madam, madam, madam!
IRAS. Royal Egypt, Empress!
CHARMIAN. Peace, peace, Iras!
CLEOPATRA. No more but e’en a woman, and commanded By such poor passion as the maid that milks And does the meanest chares. It were for me To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods; To tell them that this world did equal theirs Till they had stol’n our jewel. All’s but nought; Patience is sottish, and impatience does Become a dog that’s mad. Then is it sin To rush into the secret house of death Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women? What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian! My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look, Our lamp is spent, it’s out! Good sirs, take heart. We’ll bury him; and then, what’s brave, what’s noble, Let’s do it after the high Roman fashion, And make death proud to take us. Come, away; This case of that huge spirit now is cold. Ah, women, women! Come; we have no friend But resolution and the briefest end.
Exeunt; those above hearing off ANTONY’S body
ACT_5|SC_1
ACT V. SCENE I.
Alexandria. CAESAR’S camp
Enter CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MAECENAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and others, his Council of War
CAESAR. Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield; Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks
The pauses that he makes.
DOLABELLA. Caesar, I shall. Exit
Enter DERCETAS With the sword of ANTONY
CAESAR. Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar’st Appear thus to us?
DERCETAS. I am call’d Dercetas;
Mark Antony I serv’d, who best was worthy Best to be serv’d. Whilst he stood up and spoke, He was my master, and I wore my life
To spend upon his haters. If thou please To take me to thee, as I was to him
I’ll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not, I yield thee up my life.
CAESAR. What is’t thou say’st?
DERCETAS. I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead. CAESAR. The breaking of so great a thing should make A greater crack. The round world
Should have shook lions into civil streets, And citizens to their dens. The death of Antony Is not a single doom; in the name lay
A moiety of the world.
DERCETAS. He is dead, Caesar,
Not by a public minister of justice, Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand Which writ his honour in the acts it did Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it, Splitted the heart. This is his sword; I robb’d his wound of it; behold it stain’d With his most noble blood.
CAESAR. Look you sad, friends?
The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings To wash the eyes of kings.
AGRIPPA. And strange it is
That nature must compel us to lament Our most persisted deeds.
MAECENAS. His taints and honours
Wag’d equal with him.
AGRIPPA. A rarer spirit never
Did steer humanity. But you gods will give us Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch’d. MAECENAS. When such a spacious mirror’s set before him, He needs must see himself.
CAESAR. O Antony,
I have follow’d thee to this! But we do lance Diseases in our bodies. I must perforce Have shown to thee such a declining day Or look on thine; we could not stall together In the whole world. But yet let me lament, With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts, That thou, my brother, my competitor
In top of all design, my mate in empire, Friend and companion in the front of war, The arm of mine own body, and the heart Where mine his thoughts did kindle- that our stars, Unreconciliable, should divide
Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends-
Enter an EGYPTIAN
But I will tell you at some meeter season. The business of this man looks out of him; We’ll hear him what he says. Whence are you? EGYPTIAN. A poor Egyptian, yet the Queen, my mistress, Confin’d in all she has, her monument, Of thy intents desires instruction,
That she preparedly may frame herself To th’ way she’s forc’d to.
CAESAR. Bid her have good heart.
She soon shall know of us, by some of ours, How honourable and how kindly we
Determine for her; for Caesar cannot learn To be ungentle.
EGYPTIAN. So the gods preserve thee! Exit CAESAR. Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say We purpose her no shame. Give her what comforts The quality of her passion shall require, Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke She do defeat us; for her life in Rome Would be eternal in our triumph. Go,
And with your speediest bring us what she says, And how you find her.
PROCULEIUS. Caesar, I shall. Exit CAESAR. Gallus, go you along. Exit GALLUS Where’s Dolabella, to second Proculeius? ALL. Dolabella!
CAESAR. Let him alone, for I remember now How he’s employ’d; he shall in time be ready. Go with me to my tent, where you shall see How hardly I was drawn into this war,
How calm and gentle I proceeded still In all my writings. Go with me, and see What I can show in this. Exeunt
ACT_5|SC_2
SCENE II.
Alexandria. The monument
Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN
CLEOPATRA. My desolation does begin to make A better life. ‘Tis paltry to be Caesar: Not being Fortune, he’s but Fortune’s knave, A minister of her will; and it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accidents and bolts up change, Which sleeps, and never palates more the dug, The beggar’s nurse and Caesar’s.
Enter, to the gates of the monument, PROCULEIUS, GALLUS, and soldiers
PROCULEIUS. Caesar sends greetings to the Queen of Egypt, And bids thee study on what fair demands Thou mean’st to have him grant thee.
CLEOPATRA. What’s thy name?
PROCULEIUS. My name is Proculeius. CLEOPATRA. Antony
Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but I do not greatly care to be deceiv’d,
That have no use for trusting. If your master Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him That majesty, to keep decorum, must
No less beg than a kingdom. If he please To give me conquer’d Egypt for my son, He gives me so much of mine own as I
Will kneel to him with thanks.
PROCULEIUS. Be of good cheer;
Y’are fall’n into a princely hand; fear nothing. Make your full reference freely to my lord, Who is so full of grace that it flows over On all that need. Let me report to him Your sweet dependency, and you shall find A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness Where he for grace is kneel’d to.
CLEOPATRA. Pray you tell him
I am his fortune’s vassal and I send him The greatness he has got. I hourly learn A doctrine of obedience, and would gladly Look him i’ th’ face.
PROCULEIUS. This I’ll report, dear lady. Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied Of him that caus’d it.
GALLUS. You see how easily she may be surpris’d.
Here PROCULEIUS and two of the guard ascend the monument by a ladder placed against a window, and come behind CLEOPATRA. Some of the guard unbar and open the gates
Guard her till Caesar come. Exit IRAS. Royal Queen!
CHARMIAN. O Cleopatra! thou art taken, Queen! CLEOPATRA. Quick, quick, good hands. [Drawing a dagger] PROCULEIUS. Hold, worthy lady, hold, [Disarms her] Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this Reliev’d, but not betray’d.
CLEOPATRA. What, of death too,
That rids our dogs of languish?
PROCULEIUS. Cleopatra,
Do not abuse my master’s bounty by Th’ undoing of yourself. Let the world see His nobleness well acted, which your death Will never let come forth.
CLEOPATRA. Where art thou, death?
Come hither, come! Come, come, and take a queen Worth many babes and beggars!
PROCULEIUS. O, temperance, lady!
CLEOPATRA. Sir, I will eat no meat; I’ll not drink, sir; If idle talk will once be necessary,
I’ll not sleep neither. This mortal house I’ll ruin, Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I Will not wait pinion’d at your master’s court, Nor once be chastis’d with the sober eye Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up, And show me to the shouting varletry
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt Be gentle grave unto me! Rather on Nilus’ mud Lay me stark-nak’d, and let the water-flies Blow me into abhorring! Rather make
My country’s high pyramides my gibbet, And hang me up in chains!
PROCULEIUS. You do extend
These thoughts of horror further than you shall Find cause in Caesar.
Enter DOLABELLA
DOLABELLA. Proculeius,
What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows, And he hath sent for thee. For the Queen, I’ll take her to my guard.
PROCULEIUS. So, Dolabella,
It shall content me best. Be gentle to her. [To CLEOPATRA] To Caesar I will speak what you shall please, If you’ll employ me to him.
CLEOPATRA. Say I would die.
Exeunt PROCULEIUS and soldiers DOLABELLA. Most noble Empress, you have heard of me? CLEOPATRA. I cannot tell.
DOLABELLA. Assuredly you know me.
CLEOPATRA. No matter, sir, what I have heard or known. You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams; Is’t not your trick?
DOLABELLA. I understand not, madam. CLEOPATRA. I dreamt there was an Emperor Antony- O, such another sleep, that I might see But such another man!
DOLABELLA. If it might please ye-
CLEOPATRA. His face was as the heav’ns, and therein stuck A sun and moon, which kept their course and lighted The little O, the earth.
DOLABELLA. Most sovereign creature- CLEOPATRA. His legs bestrid the ocean; his rear’d arm Crested the world. His voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, There was no winter in’t; an autumn ’twas That grew the more by reaping. His delights Were dolphin-like: they show’d his back above The element they liv’d in. In his livery Walk’d crowns and crownets; realms and islands were As plates dropp’d from his pocket.
DOLABELLA. Cleopatra-
CLEOPATRA. Think you there was or might be such a man As this I dreamt of?
DOLABELLA. Gentle madam, no.
CLEOPATRA. You lie, up to the hearing of the gods. But if there be nor ever were one such, It’s past the size of drearning. Nature wants stuff To vie strange forms with fancy; yet t’ imagine An Antony were nature’s piece ‘gainst fancy, Condemning shadows quite.
DOLABELLA. Hear me, good madam.
Your loss is, as yourself, great; and you bear it As answering to the weight. Would I might never O’ertake pursu’d success, but I do feel, By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites My very heart at root.
CLEOPATRA. I thank you, sir.
Know you what Caesar means to do with me? DOLABELLA. I am loath to tell you what I would you knew. CLEOPATRA. Nay, pray you, sir.
DOLABELLA. Though he be honourable- CLEOPATRA. He’ll lead me, then, in triumph? DOLABELLA. Madam, he will. I know’t. [Flourish] [Within: ‘Make way there-Caesar!’]
Enter CAESAR; GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, MAECENAS, SELEUCUS, and others of his train
CAESAR. Which is the Queen of Egypt? DOLABELLA. It is the Emperor, madam. [CLEOPATPA kneels] CAESAR. Arise, you shall not kneel.
I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt.
CLEOPATRA. Sir, the gods
Will have it thus; my master and my lord I must obey.
CAESAR. Take to you no hard thoughts. The record of what injuries you did us, Though written in our flesh, we shall remember As things but done by chance.
CLEOPATRA. Sole sir o’ th’ world,
I cannot project mine own cause so well To make it clear, but do confess I have Been laden with like frailties which before Have often sham’d our sex.
CAESAR. Cleopatra, know
We will extenuate rather than enforce. If you apply yourself to our intents-
Which towards you are most gentle- you shall find A benefit in this change; but if you seek To lay on me a cruelty by taking
Antony’s course, you shall bereave yourself Of my good purposes, and put your children To that destruction which I’ll guard them from, If thereon you rely. I’ll take my leave. CLEOPATRA. And may, through all the world. ‘Tis yours, and we, Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord. CAESAR. You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra. CLEOPATRA. This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels, I am possess’d of. ‘Tis exactly valued, Not petty things admitted. Where’s Seleucus? SELEUCUS. Here, madam.
CLEOPATRA. This is my treasurer; let him speak, my lord, Upon his peril, that I have reserv’d
To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus. SELEUCUS. Madam,
I had rather seal my lips than to my peril Speak that which is not.
CLEOPATRA. What have I kept back?
SELEUCUS. Enough to purchase what you have made known. CAESAR. Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve Your wisdom in the deed.
CLEOPATRA. See, Caesar! O, behold, How pomp is followed! Mine will now be yours; And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine. The ingratitude of this Seleucus does
Even make me wild. O slave, of no more trust Than love that’s hir’d! What, goest thou back? Thou shalt Go back, I warrant thee; but I’ll catch thine eyes Though they had wings. Slave, soulless villain, dog! O rarely base!
CAESAR. Good Queen, let us entreat you. CLEOPATRA. O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this, That thou vouchsafing here to visit me, Doing the honour of thy lordliness
To one so meek, that mine own servant should Parcel the sum of my disgraces by
Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar, That I some lady trifles have reserv’d, Immoment toys, things of such dignity
As we greet modern friends withal; and say Some nobler token I have kept apart
For Livia and Octavia, to induce Their mediation- must I be unfolded
With one that I have bred? The gods! It smites me Beneath the fall I have. [To SELEUCUS] Prithee go hence; Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits Through th’ ashes of my chance. Wert thou a man, Thou wouldst have mercy on me.
CAESAR. Forbear, Seleucus. Exit SELEUCUS CLEOPATRA. Be it known that we, the greatest, are misthought For things that others do; and when we fall We answer others’ merits in our name,
Are therefore to be pitied.
CAESAR. Cleopatra,
Not what you have reserv’d, nor what acknowledg’d, Put we i’ th’ roll of conquest. Still be’t yours, Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe Caesar’s no merchant, to make prize with you Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer’d; Make not your thoughts your prisons. No, dear Queen; For we intend so to dispose you as
Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed and sleep. Our care and pity is so much upon you
That we remain your friend; and so, adieu. CLEOPATRA. My master and my lord!
CAESAR. Not so. Adieu.
Flourish. Exeunt CAESAR and his train CLEOPATRA. He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not Be noble to myself. But hark thee, Charmian! [Whispers CHARMIAN] IRAS. Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are for the dark.
CLEOPATRA. Hie thee again.
I have spoke already, and it is provided; Go put it to the haste.
CHARMIAN. Madam, I will.
Re-enter DOLABELLA
DOLABELLA. Where’s the Queen?
CHARMIAN. Behold, sir. Exit CLEOPATRA. Dolabella!
DOLABELLA. Madam, as thereto sworn by your command, Which my love makes religion to obey,
I tell you this: Caesar through Syria Intends his journey, and within three days You with your children will he send before. Make your best use of this; I have perform’d Your pleasure and my promise.
CLEOPATRA. Dolabella,
I shall remain your debtor.
DOLABELLA. I your servant.
Adieu, good Queen; I must attend on Caesar. CLEOPATRA. Farewell, and thanks. Exit DOLABELLA Now, Iras, what think’st thou?
Thou an Egyptian puppet shall be shown In Rome as well as I. Mechanic slaves, With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths, Rank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded, And forc’d to drink their vapour.
IRAS. The gods forbid!
CLEOPATRA. Nay, ’tis most certain, Iras. Saucy lictors Will catch at us like strumpets, and scald rhymers Ballad us out o’ tune; the quick comedians Extemporally will stage us, and present Our Alexandrian revels; Antony
Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness I’ th’ posture of a whore.
IRAS. O the good gods!
CLEOPATRA. Nay, that’s certain.
IRAS. I’ll never see’t, for I am sure mine nails Are stronger than mine eyes.
CLEOPATRA. Why, that’s the way
To fool their preparation and to conquer Their most absurd intents.
Enter CHARMIAN
Now, Charmian!
Show me, my women, like a queen. Go fetch My best attires. I am again for Cydnus, To meet Mark Antony. Sirrah, Iras, go. Now, noble Charmian, we’ll dispatch indeed; And when thou hast done this chare, I’ll give thee leave To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all. Exit IRAS. A noise within Wherefore’s this noise?
Enter a GUARDSMAN
GUARDSMAN. Here is a rural fellow
That will not be denied your Highness’ presence. He brings you figs.
CLEOPATRA. Let him come in. Exit GUARDSMAN What poor an instrument
May do a noble deed! He brings me liberty. My resolution’s plac’d, and I have nothing Of woman in me. Now from head to foot
I am marble-constant; now the fleeting moon No planet is of mine.
Re-enter GUARDSMAN and CLOWN, with a basket
GUARDSMAN. This is the man.
CLEOPATRA. Avoid, and leave him. Exit GUARDSMAN Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there That kills and pains not?
CLOWN. Truly, I have him. But I would not be the party that should desire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal; those that do die of it do seldom or never recover. CLEOPATRA. Remember’st thou any that have died on’t? CLOWN. Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, but something given to lie, as a woman should not do but in the way of honesty; how she died of the biting of it, what pain she felt- truly she makes a very good report o’ th’ worm. But he that will believe all that they say shall never be saved by half that they do. But this is most falliable, the worm’s an odd worm. CLEOPATRA. Get thee hence; farewell.
CLOWN. I wish you all joy of the worm. [Sets down the basket] CLEOPATRA. Farewell.
CLOWN. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind.
CLEOPATRA. Ay, ay; farewell.
CLOWN. Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the keeping of wise people; for indeed there is no goodness in the worm. CLEOPATRA. Take thou no care; it shall be heeded. CLOWN. Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is not worth the feeding.
CLEOPATRA. Will it eat me?
CLOWN. You must not think I am so simple but I know the devil himself will not eat a woman. I know that a woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her not. But truly, these same whoreson devils do the gods great harm in their women, for in every ten that they make the devils mar five. CLEOPATRA. Well, get thee gone; farewell. CLOWN. Yes, forsooth. I wish you joy o’ th’ worm. Exit
Re-enter IRAS, with a robe, crown, &c.
CLEOPATRA. Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me. Now no more
The juice of Egypt’s grape shall moist this lip. Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear Antony call. I see him rouse himself
To praise my noble act. I hear him mock The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men To excuse their after wrath. Husband, I come. Now to that name my courage prove my title! I am fire and air; my other elements
I give to baser life. So, have you done? Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. Farewell, kind Charmian. Iras, long farewell. [Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies] Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? If thus thou and nature can so gently part, The stroke of death is as a lover’s pinch, Which hurts and is desir’d. Dost thou lie still? If thou vanishest, thou tell’st the world It is not worth leave-taking.
CHARMIAN. Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain, that I may say The gods themselves do weep.
CLEOPATRA. This proves me base.
If she first meet the curled Antony, He’ll make demand of her, and spend that kiss Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou mortal wretch, [To an asp, which she applies to her breast] With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate Of life at once untie. Poor venomous fool, Be angry and dispatch. O couldst thou speak, That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass Unpolicied!
CHARMIAN. O Eastern star!
CLEOPATRA. Peace, peace!
Dost thou not see my baby at my breast That sucks the nurse asleep?
CHARMIAN. O, break! O, break!
CLEOPATRA. As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle- O Antony! Nay, I will take thee too:
[Applying another asp to her arm] What should I stay- [Dies] CHARMIAN. In this vile world? So, fare thee well. Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies A lass unparallel’d. Downy windows, close; And golden Phoebus never be beheld
Of eyes again so royal! Your crown’s awry;