I did not send you -[To Iras.]—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 The like from him. Cleo. What should I do, I do not? 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. Enter Antony. But here comes Antony. Cleo. I am sick, and sullen. Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose Cleo. Help me away, dear Charmian, I shall fall; It cannot be thus long—the sides of nature Will not sustain it. Ant. Now, my dearest queen,— Cleo. Pray you, stand farther from me. Ant. What's the matter? Cleo. I know, by that same eye, there's some good news: What says the marry'd woman? You may go; Cleo. O, never was there queen So mightily betray'd! Yet, at the first, Ant. Cleopatra,—— Cleo. Why should I think you can be mine, and true, Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, Ant. Most sweet queen, Cleo. Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going; But bid farewell, and go: when you su'd staying, Bliss in our brows bent; none our parts so poor, Ant. How now, lady? Cleo. I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know, There were a heart in Egypt. Ant. Hear me, queen: The strong necessity of time commands Our services awhile; but my full heart Remains in use with you. Our Italy Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius Breeds scrupulous faction: The hated, grown to strength, Are newly grown to love: the condemned Pompey, Into the hearts of such as have not thriv'd Is Fulvia's death. Cleo. Though age from folly could not give me freedom, It does from childishness: Can Fulvia die? Ant. She's dead, my queen: Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read Cleo. O most false love! Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill Cleo. Cut my lace, Charmian, come;— Ant. My precious queen, forbear; And give true evidence to his love, which stands Cleo. So Fulvia told me. I prythee turn aside, and weep for her; Like perfect honour. Ant. You'll heat my blood; no more. Cleo. You can do better yet; but this is meetly. Cleo. And target,—still he mends; But this is not the best.—Look, pr'ythee, Charmian, How this Herculean Roman does become The carriage of his chafe. Ant. I'll leave you, lady. Cleo. Courteous lord, one word. Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it: And I am all-forgotten. Ant. But that your royalty Holds idleness your subject, I should take you Cleo. "Tis sweating labour, To bear such idleness so near the heart And all the gods go with you! Upon your sword Ant. Let us go. Come; Our separation so abides, and flies, That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me, Away. [Exeu t. CENE IV. Rome. A Room in Casar's House. Enter OCTAVIUS CESAR, LEPIDUS, and their Trains. Oct. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, It is not Cæsar's natural vice to hate One great competitor: From Alexandria This is the news—He fishes, drinks, and wastes 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. Lep. I must not think there are Evils enough to darken all his goodness: Oct. You are too indulgent: Let us 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 tipling 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 Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones As we rate boys; who, being mature in knowledge, Enter a Messenger. Lep. Here's more news. Mess. Thy biddings have been done; and every hour, |