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His conquering banner shook from Syria
To Lydia and to Ionia;


Ant. Antony, thou wouldst say,


O, my lord!

Ant. 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 license as both truth and malice
Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth

When our quick minds lie still, and our ills told us
Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile.

Mess. At your noble pleasure.

[Exit. Ant. From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there! First Att. The man from Sicyon, is there such an one?

Sec. Att. He stays upon your will.


Let him appear.

These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,

Or lose myself in dotage.

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Her length of sickness, with what else more serious

Importeth thee to know, this bears.




[Gives a letter.

Forbear me.

[Exit Sec. Messenger.

There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it :
What our contempt doth often hurl from us,

115. earing, ploughing.

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 shoved her on.
I must from this enchanting queen break off:
Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
My idleness doth hatch. How now! Enobarbus !


Eno. What's your pleasure, sir?

Ant. I must with haste from hence.

Eno. 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.

Ant. I must be gone.

Eno. 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.

Ant. She is cunning past man's thought. Eno. 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.

Ant. Would I had never seen her!

Eno. O, sir, you had then left unseen a won

129. By revolution lowering, decreasing with the passage of


147. mettle, vigour.




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night an before

derful piece of work; which not to have been 160 blest withal would have discredited your travel.

Ant. Fulvia is dead.

Eno. Sir?

Ant. Fulvia is dead.
Eno. Fulvia !

Ant. Dead.

Eno. 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 170 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 crowned with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new petticoat and indeed the tears live in an onion that should water this sorrow.

Ant. The business she hath broached in the state Cannot endure my absence.

Eno. And the business you have broached 180 here cannot be without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode.

Ant. 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 Cæsar, 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

191. dare, defiance.


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

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.

Eno. I shall do 't.



SCENE III. The same.

Another room.


Cleo. Where is he?



I did not see him since.

Cleo. 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.

Char. Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly,

You do not hold the method to enforce

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Char. In each thing give him way, cross him in nothing.

Cleo. Thou teachest like a fool; the way to lose him.

Char. Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear:

In time we hate that which we often fear.

But here comes Antony.




I am sick and sullen.

Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my pur


Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall:

It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature

Will not sustain it.


Now, my dearest queen,

What's the matter?

Cleo. Pray you, stand farther from me.

Cleo. 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.
Ant. The gods best know-


O, never was there queen So mightily betray'd! yet at the first

I saw the treasons planted.



Cleo. 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,



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