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Alexandria. A Room in Cleopatra's palace.
(Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.)
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.
(Exit Alexas.)
Charmian: Madam, methinks, 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: Thou 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.
(Enter 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 'tis 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 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 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 su'd 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 /Shines o'er 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 condemn'd Pompey, /Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace /Into the hearts of such as have not thriv'd /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 theadvice. By the fire /That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence /Thy soldier, servant, making peace or war /As thou affect'st.
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 pr'ythee, 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, pr'ythee, 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 gods 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.)
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