Antony and Cleopatra Act 4, Scene 12

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Another part of the Ground.

(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 thou'rt 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' the 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.)

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