Act II, Scene VI — Near Misenum
Flourish. Enter Pompey and Menas at one door, with drum and trumpet; at another, Caesar, Lepidus, Antony, Enobarbus, Maecenas, Agrippa, with Soldiers marching.
POMPEY. Your hostages I have, so have you mine, And we shall talk before we fight.
CAESAR. Most meet That first we come to words, and therefore have we Our written purposes before us sent, Which if thou hast considered, let us know If ’twill tie up thy discontented sword And carry back to Sicily much tall youth That else must perish here.
POMPEY. To you all three, The senators alone of this great world, Chief factors for the gods: I do not know Wherefore my father should revengers want, Having a son and friends, since Julius Caesar, Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted, There saw you labouring for him. What was’t That moved pale Cassius to conspire? And what Made the all-honoured, honest Roman, Brutus, With the armed rest, courtiers of beauteous freedom, To drench the Capitol, but that they would Have one man but a man? And that is it Hath made me rig my navy, at whose burden The angered ocean foams, with which I meant To scourge th’ ingratitude that despiteful Rome Cast on my noble father.
CAESAR. Take your time.
ANTONY. Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails. We’ll speak with thee at sea. At land thou know’st How much we do o’ercount thee.
POMPEY. At land indeed Thou dost o’ercount me of my father’s house; But since the cuckoo builds not for himself, Remain in’t as thou mayst.
LEPIDUS. Be pleased to tell us— For this is from the present—how you take The offers we have sent you.
CAESAR. There’s the point.
ANTONY. Which do not be entreated to, but weigh What it is worth embraced.
CAESAR. And what may follow To try a larger fortune.
POMPEY. You have made me offer Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I must Rid all the sea of pirates; then to send Measures of wheat to Rome. This ’greed upon, To part with unhacked edges and bear back Our targes undinted.
CAESAR, ANTONY, and LEPIDUS. That’s our offer.
POMPEY. Know, then, I came before you here a man prepared To take this offer. But Mark Antony Put me to some impatience. Though I lose The praise of it by telling, you must know When Caesar and your brother were at blows, Your mother came to Sicily and did find Her welcome friendly.
ANTONY. I have heard it, Pompey, And am well studied for a liberal thanks Which I do owe you.
POMPEY. Let me have your hand. I did not think, sir, to have met you here.
ANTONY. The beds i’ th’ East are soft; and thanks to you, That called me timelier than my purpose hither, For I have gained by ’t.
CAESAR. Since I saw you last, There is a change upon you.
POMPEY. Well, I know not What counts harsh Fortune casts upon my face, But in my bosom shall she never come To make my heart her vassal.
LEPIDUS. Well met here.
POMPEY. I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are agreed. I crave our composition may be written And sealed between us.
CAESAR. That’s the next to do.
POMPEY. We’ll feast each other ere we part, and let’s Draw lots who shall begin.
ANTONY. That will I, Pompey.
POMPEY. No, Antony, take the lot. But, first or last, your fine Egyptian cookery Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar Grew fat with feasting there.
ANTONY. You have heard much.
POMPEY. I have fair meanings, sir.
ANTONY. And fair words to them.
POMPEY. Then so much have I heard. And I have heard Apollodorus carried—
ENOBARBUS. No more of that. He did so.
POMPEY. What, I pray you?
ENOBARBUS. A certain queen to Caesar in a mattress.
POMPEY. I know thee now. How far’st thou, soldier?
ENOBARBUS. Well; And well am like to do, for I perceive Four feasts are toward.
POMPEY. Let me shake thy hand. I never hated thee. I have seen thee fight When I have envied thy behaviour.
ENOBARBUS. Sir, I never loved you much, but I ha’ praised ye When you have well deserved ten times as much As I have said you did.
POMPEY. Enjoy thy plainness; It nothing ill becomes thee. Aboard my galley I invite you all. Will you lead, lords?
CAESAR, ANTONY, and LEPIDUS. Show’s the way, sir.
POMPEY. Come.
[Exeunt all but Enobarbus and Menas.]
MENAS. [Aside.] Thy father, Pompey, would ne’er have made this treaty.— You and I have known, sir.
ENOBARBUS. At sea, I think.
MENAS. We have, sir.
ENOBARBUS. You have done well by water.
MENAS. And you by land.
ENOBARBUS. I will praise any man that will praise me, though it cannot be denied what I have done by land.
MENAS. Nor what I have done by water.
ENOBARBUS. Yes, something you can deny for your own safety: you have been a great thief by sea.
MENAS. And you by land.
ENOBARBUS. There I deny my land service. But give me your hand, Menas. If our eyes had authority, here they might take two thieves kissing.
MENAS. All men’s faces are true, whatsome’er their hands are.
ENOBARBUS. But there is never a fair woman has a true face.
MENAS. No slander. They steal hearts.
ENOBARBUS. We came hither to fight with you.
MENAS. For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a drinking. Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune.
ENOBARBUS. If he do, sure he cannot weep ’t back again.
MENAS. You have said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony here. Pray you, is he married to Cleopatra?
ENOBARBUS. Caesar’s sister is called Octavia.
MENAS. True, sir. She was the wife of Caius Marcellus.
ENOBARBUS. But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius.
MENAS. Pray you, sir?
ENOBARBUS. ’Tis true.
MENAS. Then is Caesar and he for ever knit together.
ENOBARBUS. If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would not prophesy so.
MENAS. I think the policy of that purpose made more in the marriage than the love of the parties.
ENOBARBUS. I think so too. But you shall find the band that seems to tie their friendship together will be the very strangler of their amity. Octavia is of a holy, cold, and still conversation.
MENAS. Who would not have his wife so?
ENOBARBUS. Not he that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony. He will to his Egyptian dish again. Then shall the sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Caesar, and, as I said before, that which is the strength of their amity shall prove the immediate author of their variance. Antony will use his affection where it is. He married but his occasion here.
MENAS. And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard? I have a health for you.
ENOBARBUS. I shall take it, sir. We have used our throats in Egypt.
MENAS. Come, let’s away.
[Exeunt.]
Act II, Scene VII — On board Pompey’s Galley, lying near Misenum
Music. Enter two or three Servants with a banquet.
FIRST SERVANT. Here they’ll be, man. Some o’ their plants are ill-rooted already; the least wind i’ th’ world will blow them down.
SECOND SERVANT. Lepidus is high-coloured.
FIRST SERVANT. They have made him drink alms-drink.
SECOND SERVANT. As they pinch one another by the disposition, he cries out “no more”, reconciles them to his entreaty and himself to th’ drink.
FIRST SERVANT. But it raises the greater war between him and his discretion.
SECOND SERVANT. Why, this it is to have a name in great men’s fellowship. I had as lief have a reed that will do me no service as a partisan I could not heave.
FIRST SERVANT. To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen to move in ’t, are the holes where eyes should be, which pitifully disaster the cheeks.
A sennet sounded. Enter Caesar, Antony, Pompey, Lepidus, Agrippa, Maecenas, Enobarbus, Menas with other Captains.
ANTONY. [To Caesar.] Thus do they, sir: they take the flow o’ th’ Nile By certain scales i’ th’ pyramid; they know By th’ height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth Or foison follow. The higher Nilus swells, The more it promises. As it ebbs, the seedsman Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain, And shortly comes to harvest.
LEPIDUS. You’ve strange serpents there?
ANTONY. Ay, Lepidus.
LEPIDUS. Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the operation of your sun; so is your crocodile.
ANTONY. They are so.
POMPEY. Sit, and some wine! A health to Lepidus!
LEPIDUS. I am not so well as I should be, but I’ll ne’er out.
ENOBARBUS. Not till you have slept. I fear me you’ll be in till then.
LEPIDUS. Nay, certainly, I have heard the Ptolemies’ pyramises are very goodly things. Without contradiction I have heard that.
MENAS. [Aside to Pompey.] Pompey, a word.
POMPEY. [Aside to Menas.] Say in mine ear what is ’t?
MENAS. [Whispers in ’s ear.] Forsake thy seat, I do beseech thee, captain, And hear me speak a word.
POMPEY. [Aside to Menas.] Forbear me till anon.— This wine for Lepidus!
LEPIDUS. What manner o’ thing is your crocodile?
ANTONY. It is shaped, sir, like itself, and it is as broad as it hath breadth. It is just so high as it is, and moves with it own organs. It lives by that which nourisheth it, and the elements once out of it, it transmigrates.
LEPIDUS. What colour is it of?
ANTONY. Of its own colour too.
LEPIDUS. ’Tis a strange serpent.
ANTONY. ’Tis so, and the tears of it are wet.
CAESAR. Will this description satisfy him?
ANTONY. With the health that Pompey gives him, else he is a very epicure.
POMPEY. [Aside to Menas.] Go hang, sir, hang! Tell me of that? Away! Do as I bid you.—Where’s this cup I called for?
MENAS. [Aside to Pompey.] If for the sake of merit thou wilt hear me, Rise from thy stool.
POMPEY. [Aside to Menas.] I think thou’rt mad.
[Rises and walks aside.]
The matter?
MENAS. I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes.
POMPEY. Thou hast served me with much faith. What’s else to say?— Be jolly, lords.
ANTONY. These quicksands, Lepidus, Keep off them, for you sink.
MENAS. Wilt thou be lord of all the world?
POMPEY. What sayst thou?
MENAS. Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? That’s twice.
POMPEY. How should that be?
MENAS. But entertain it, And though you think me poor, I am the man Will give thee all the world.
POMPEY. Hast thou drunk well?
MENAS. No, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup. Thou art, if thou dar’st be, the earthly Jove. Whate’er the ocean pales or sky inclips Is thine, if thou wilt have’t.
POMPEY. Show me which way.
MENAS. These three world-sharers, these competitors, Are in thy vessel. Let me cut the cable, And when we are put off, fall to their throats. All then is thine.
POMPEY. Ah, this thou shouldst have done And not have spoke on ’t! In me ’tis villainy; In thee ’t had been good service. Thou must know ’Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour; Mine honour it. Repent that e’er thy tongue Hath so betray’d thine act. Being done unknown, I should have found it afterwards well done, But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink.
MENAS. [Aside.] For this, I’ll never follow thy palled fortunes more. Who seeks, and will not take when once ’tis offered, Shall never find it more.
POMPEY. This health to Lepidus!
ANTONY. Bear him ashore. I’ll pledge it for him, Pompey.
ENOBARBUS. Here’s to thee, Menas!
MENAS. Enobarbus, welcome!
POMPEY. Fill till the cup be hid.
ENOBARBUS. There’s a strong fellow, Menas.
[Pointing to the servant who carries off Lepidus.]
MENAS. Why?
ENOBARBUS. ’A bears the third part of the world, man. Seest not?
MENAS. The third part, then, is drunk. Would it were all, That it might go on wheels!
ENOBARBUS. Drink thou. Increase the reels.
MENAS. Come.
POMPEY. This is not yet an Alexandrian feast.
ANTONY. It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho! Here is to Caesar!
CAESAR. I could well forbear’t. It’s monstrous labour when I wash my brain And it grows fouler.
ANTONY. Be a child o’ the time.
CAESAR. Possess it, I’ll make answer. But I had rather fast from all, four days, Than drink so much in one.
ENOBARBUS. [To Antony.] Ha, my brave emperor, Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals And celebrate our drink?
POMPEY. Let’s ha’t, good soldier.
ANTONY. Come, let’s all take hands Till that the conquering wine hath steeped our sense In soft and delicate Lethe.
ENOBARBUS. All take hands. Make battery to our ears with the loud music, The while I’ll place you; then the boy shall sing. The holding every man shall beat as loud As his strong sides can volley.
Music plays. Enobarbus places them hand in hand.
THE SONG. Come, thou monarch of the vine, Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne! In thy vats our cares be drowned, With thy grapes our hairs be crowned. Cup us till the world go round, Cup us till the world go round!
CAESAR. What would you more? Pompey, good night. Good brother, Let me request you off. Our graver business Frowns at this levity.—Gentle lords, let’s part. You see we have burnt our cheeks. Strong Enobarb Is weaker than the wine, and mine own tongue Splits what it speaks. The wild disguise hath almost Anticked us all. What needs more words. Good night. Good Antony, your hand.
POMPEY. I’ll try you on the shore.
ANTONY. And shall, sir. Give’s your hand.
POMPEY. O Antony, You have my father’s house. But, what? We are friends. Come, down into the boat.
ENOBARBUS. Take heed you fall not.
[Exeunt Pompey, Caesar, Antony and Attendants.]
Menas, I’ll not on shore.
MENAS. No, to my cabin. These drums, these trumpets, flutes! What! Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell To these great fellows. Sound and be hanged, sound out!
[Sound a flourish with drums.]
ENOBARBUS. Hoo, says ’a! There’s my cap!
MENAS. Hoo! Noble captain, come.
[Exeunt.]
Act III, Scene I — A plain in Syria
Enter Ventidius as it were in triumph, with Silius and other Romans, Officers and Soldiers; the dead body of Pacorus borne before him.
VENTIDIUS. Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck, and now Pleased Fortune does of Marcus Crassus’ death Make me revenger. Bear the king’s son’s body Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes, Pays this for Marcus Crassus.
SILIUS. Noble Ventidius, Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm, The fugitive Parthians follow. Spur through Media, Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither The routed fly. So thy grand captain Antony Shall set thee on triumphant chariots, and Put garlands on thy head.
VENTIDIUS. O Silius, Silius, I have done enough. A lower place, note well, May make too great an act. For learn this, Silius: Better to leave undone than by our deed Acquire too high a fame when him we serve’s away. Caesar and Antony have ever won More in their officer, than person. Sossius, One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant, For quick accumulation of renown, Which he achieved by th’ minute, lost his favour. Who does i’ th’ wars more than his captain can Becomes his captain’s captain; and ambition, The soldier’s virtue, rather makes choice of loss Than gain which darkens him. I could do more to do Antonius good, But ’twould offend him, and in his offence Should my performance perish.
SILIUS. Thou hast, Ventidius, that Without the which a soldier and his sword Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony?
VENTIDIUS. I’ll humbly signify what in his name, That magical word of war, we have effected; How, with his banners, and his well-paid ranks, The ne’er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia We have jaded out o’ th’ field.
SILIUS. Where is he now?
VENTIDIUS. He purposeth to Athens, whither, with what haste The weight we must convey with ’s will permit, We shall appear before him.—On there, pass along!
[Exeunt.]
Act III, Scene II — Rome. An Ante-chamber in Caesar’s house
Enter Agrippa at one door, Enobarbus at another.
AGRIPPA. What, are the brothers parted?
ENOBARBUS. They have dispatched with Pompey; he is gone. The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps To part from Rome. Caesar is sad, and Lepidus, Since Pompey’s feast, as Menas says, is troubled With the greensickness.
AGRIPPA. ’Tis a noble Lepidus.
ENOBARBUS. A very fine one. O, how he loves Caesar!
AGRIPPA. Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony!
ENOBARBUS. Caesar? Why he’s the Jupiter of men.
AGRIPPA. What’s Antony? The god of Jupiter.
ENOBARBUS. Spake you of Caesar? How, the nonpareil!
AGRIPPA. O, Antony! O thou Arabian bird!
ENOBARBUS. Would you praise Caesar, say “Caesar”. Go no further.
AGRIPPA. Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises.
ENOBARBUS. But he loves Caesar best, yet he loves Antony. Hoo! Hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, poets, cannot Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number—hoo!— His love to Antony. But as for Caesar, Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder.
AGRIPPA. Both he loves.
ENOBARBUS. They are his shards, and he their beetle.
[Trumpets within.]
So, This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa.
AGRIPPA. Good fortune, worthy soldier, and farewell.
Enter Caesar, Antony, Lepidus and Octavia.
ANTONY. No further, sir.
CAESAR. You take from me a great part of myself. Use me well in’t. Sister, prove such a wife As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest bond Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony, Let not the piece of virtue which is set Betwixt us, as the cement of our love To keep it builded, be the ram to batter The fortress of it. For better might we Have loved without this mean, if on both parts This be not cherished.
ANTONY. Make me not offended In your distrust.
CAESAR. I have said.
ANTONY. You shall not find, Though you be therein curious, the least cause For what you seem to fear. So the gods keep you, And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends. We will here part.
CAESAR. Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well. The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort! Fare thee well.
OCTAVIA. My noble brother!
ANTONY. The April’s in her eyes. It is love’s spring, And these the showers to bring it on.—Be cheerful.
OCTAVIA. Sir, look well to my husband’s house, and—
CAESAR. What, Octavia?
OCTAVIA. I’ll tell you in your ear.
ANTONY. Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can Her heart inform her tongue—the swan’s-down feather, That stands upon the swell at the full of tide, And neither way inclines.
ENOBARBUS. [Aside to Agrippa.] Will Caesar weep?
AGRIPPA. [Aside to Enobarbus.] He has a cloud in ’s face.
ENOBARBUS. [Aside to Agrippa.] He were the worse for that were he a horse; So is he, being a man.
AGRIPPA. [Aside to Enobarbus.] Why, Enobarbus, When Antony found Julius Caesar dead, He cried almost to roaring, and he wept When at Philippi he found Brutus slain.
ENOBARBUS. [Aside to Agrippa.] That year, indeed, he was troubled with a rheum; What willingly he did confound he wailed, Believe ’t, till I weep too.
CAESAR. No, sweet Octavia, You shall hear from me still. The time shall not Outgo my thinking on you.
ANTONY. Come, sir, come, I’ll wrestle with you in my strength of love. Look, here I have you, thus I let you go, And give you to the gods.
CAESAR. Adieu, be happy!
LEPIDUS. Let all the number of the stars give light To thy fair way!
CAESAR. Farewell, farewell!
[Kisses Octavia.]
ANTONY. Farewell!
[Trumpets sound. Exeunt.]
Act III, Scene III — Alexandria. A Room in the Palace
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras and Alexas.
CLEOPATRA. Where is the fellow?
ALEXAS. Half afeared to come.
CLEOPATRA. Go to, go to.
Enter a Messenger as before.
Come hither, sir.
ALEXAS. Good majesty, Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you But when you are well pleased.
CLEOPATRA. That Herod’s head I’ll have! But how, when Antony is gone, Through whom I might command it?—Come thou near.
MESSENGER. Most gracious majesty!
CLEOPATRA. Didst thou behold Octavia?
MESSENGER. Ay, dread queen.
CLEOPATRA. Where?
MESSENGER. Madam, in Rome I looked her in the face, and saw her led Between her brother and Mark Antony.
CLEOPATRA. Is she as tall as me?
MESSENGER. She is not, madam.
CLEOPATRA. Didst hear her speak? Is she shrill-tongued or low?
MESSENGER. Madam, I heard her speak. She is low-voiced.
CLEOPATRA. That’s not so good. He cannot like her long.
CHARMIAN. Like her? O Isis! ’Tis impossible.
CLEOPATRA. I think so, Charmian: dull of tongue and dwarfish! What majesty is in her gait? Remember, If e’er thou look’dst on majesty.
MESSENGER. She creeps. Her motion and her station are as one. She shows a body rather than a life, A statue than a breather.
CLEOPATRA. Is this certain?
MESSENGER. Or I have no observance.
CHARMIAN. Three in Egypt Cannot make better note.
CLEOPATRA. He’s very knowing; I do perceive’t. There’s nothing in her yet. The fellow has good judgment.
CHARMIAN. Excellent.
CLEOPATRA. Guess at her years, I prithee.
MESSENGER. Madam, She was a widow.
CLEOPATRA. Widow! Charmian, hark!
MESSENGER. And I do think she’s thirty.
CLEOPATRA. Bear’st thou her face in mind? Is’t long or round?
MESSENGER. Round even to faultiness.
CLEOPATRA. For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so. Her hair, what colour?
MESSENGER. Brown, madam, and her forehead As low as she would wish it.
CLEOPATRA. There’s gold for thee. Thou must not take my former sharpness ill. I will employ thee back again; I find thee Most fit for business. Go make thee ready; Our letters are prepared.
[Exit Messenger.]
CHARMIAN. A proper man.
CLEOPATRA. Indeed, he is so. I repent me much That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him, This creature’s no such thing.
CHARMIAN. Nothing, madam.
CLEOPATRA. The man hath seen some majesty, and should know.
CHARMIAN. Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend, And serving you so long!
CLEOPATRA. I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian. But ’tis no matter; thou shalt bring him to me Where I will write. All may be well enough.
CHARMIAN. I warrant you, madam.
[Exeunt.]
Act III, Scene IV — Athens. A Room in Antony’s House
Enter Antony and Octavia.
ANTONY. Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that— That were excusable, that and thousands more Of semblable import—but he hath waged New wars ’gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it To public ear; Spoke scantly of me; when perforce he could not But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly He vented them; most narrow measure lent me; When the best hint was given him, he not took ’t, Or did it from his teeth.
OCTAVIA. O, my good lord, Believe not all, or if you must believe, Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady, If this division chance, ne’er stood between, Praying for both parts. The good gods will mock me presently When I shall pray “O, bless my lord and husband!” Undo that prayer by crying out as loud “O, bless my brother!” Husband win, win brother, Prays and destroys the prayer; no midway ’Twixt these extremes at all.
ANTONY. Gentle Octavia, Let your best love draw to that point which seeks Best to preserve it. If I lose mine honour, I lose myself; better I were not yours Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested, Yourself shall go between’s. The meantime, lady, I’ll raise the preparation of a war Shall stain your brother. Make your soonest haste, So your desires are yours.
OCTAVIA. Thanks to my lord. The Jove of power make me, most weak, most weak, Your reconciler! Wars ’twixt you twain would be As if the world should cleave, and that slain men Should solder up the rift.
ANTONY. When it appears to you where this begins, Turn your displeasure that way, for our faults Can never be so equal that your love Can equally move with them. Provide your going; Choose your own company, and command what cost Your heart has mind to.
[Exeunt.]
Act III, Scene V — Athens. Another Room in Antony’s House
Enter Enobarbus and Eros meeting.
ENOBARBUS. How now, friend Eros?
EROS. There’s strange news come, sir.
ENOBARBUS. What, man?
EROS. Caesar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey.
ENOBARBUS. This is old. What is the success?
EROS. Caesar, having made use of him in the wars ’gainst Pompey, presently denied him rivality; would not let him partake in the glory of the action, and, not resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him. So the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine.
ENOBARBUS. Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more, And throw between them all the food thou hast, They’ll grind the one the other. Where’s Antony?
EROS. He’s walking in the garden, thus, and spurns The rush that lies before him; cries “Fool Lepidus!” And threats the throat of that his officer That murdered Pompey.
ENOBARBUS. Our great navy’s rigged.
EROS. For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius: My lord desires you presently. My news I might have told hereafter.
ENOBARBUS. ’Twill be naught, But let it be. Bring me to Antony.
EROS. Come, sir.
[Exeunt.]
Act III, Scene VI — Rome. A Room in Caesar’s House
Enter Agrippa, Maecenas and Caesar.
CAESAR. Contemning Rome, he has done all this, and more In Alexandria. Here’s the manner of ’t: I’ th’ market-place, on a tribunal silvered, Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold Were publicly enthroned. At the feet sat Caesarion, whom they call my father’s son, And all the unlawful issue that their lust Since then hath made between them. Unto her He gave the stablishment of Egypt; made her Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia, Absolute queen.
MAECENAS. This in the public eye?
CAESAR. I’ th’ common showplace where they exercise. His sons he there proclaimed the kings of kings: Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assigned Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia. She In th’ habiliments of the goddess Isis That day appeared, and oft before gave audience, As ’tis reported, so.
MAECENAS. Let Rome be thus informed.
AGRIPPA. Who, queasy with his insolence already, Will their good thoughts call from him.
CAESAR. The people knows it and have now received His accusations.
AGRIPPA. Who does he accuse?
CAESAR. Caesar, and that, having in Sicily Sextus Pompeius spoiled, we had not rated him His part o’ th’ isle. Then does he say he lent me Some shipping, unrestored. Lastly, he frets That Lepidus of the triumvirate Should be deposed and, being, that we detain All his revenue.
AGRIPPA. Sir, this should be answered.
CAESAR. ’Tis done already, and messenger gone. I have told him Lepidus was grown too cruel, That he his high authority abused, And did deserve his change. For what I have conquered I grant him part; but then in his Armenia And other of his conquered kingdoms, I Demand the like.
MAECENAS. He’ll never yield to that.
CAESAR. Nor must not then be yielded to in this.
Enter Octavia with her train.
OCTAVIA. Hail, Caesar, and my lord! Hail, most dear Caesar!
CAESAR. That ever I should call thee castaway!
OCTAVIA. You have not called me so, nor have you cause.
CAESAR. Why have you stolen upon us thus? You come not Like Caesar’s sister. The wife of Antony Should have an army for an usher, and The neighs of horse to tell of her approach Long ere she did appear. The trees by th’ way Should have borne men, and expectation fainted, Longing for what it had not. Nay, the dust Should have ascended to the roof of heaven, Raised by your populous troops. But you are come A market-maid to Rome, and have prevented The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, Is often left unloved. We should have met you By sea and land, supplying every stage With an augmented greeting.
OCTAVIA. Good my lord, To come thus was I not constrained, but did it On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony, Hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted My grieved ear withal, whereon I begged His pardon for return.
CAESAR. Which soon he granted, Being an abstract ’tween his lust and him.
OCTAVIA. Do not say so, my lord.
CAESAR. I have eyes upon him, And his affairs come to me on the wind. Where is he now?
OCTAVIA. My lord, in Athens.
CAESAR. No, my most wronged sister. Cleopatra Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his empire Up to a whore, who now are levying The kings o’ th’ earth for war. He hath assembled Bocchus, the king of Libya; Archelaus Of Cappadocia; Philadelphos, king Of Paphlagonia; the Thracian king, Adallas; King Manchus of Arabia; King of Pont; Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, king Of Comagene; Polemon and Amyntas, The kings of Mede and Lycaonia, With a more larger list of sceptres.
OCTAVIA. Ay me, most wretched, That have my heart parted betwixt two friends That does afflict each other!
CAESAR. Welcome hither. Your letters did withhold our breaking forth Till we perceived both how you were wrong led And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart. Be you not troubled with the time, which drives O’er your content these strong necessities, But let determined things to destiny Hold unbewailed their way. Welcome to Rome, Nothing more dear to me. You are abused Beyond the mark of thought, and the high gods, To do you justice, make their ministers Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort, And ever welcome to us.
AGRIPPA. Welcome, lady.
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 III, Scene VII — Antony’s Camp near the Promontory of Actium
Enter Cleopatra and Enobarbus.
CLEOPATRA. I will be even with thee, doubt it not.
ENOBARBUS. But why, 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 denounced against us? Why should not we Be there in person?
ENOBARBUS. 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 spared. He is already Traduced 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 admired Than by the negligent.
ANTONY. A good rebuke, Which might have well becomed 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 dared 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 manned, Your mariners are muleteers, reapers, people Engrossed 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 prepared 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-marked 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-manned, 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 used 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 Beguiled 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 III, Scene VIII — A plain near Actium
Enter Caesar with his army and Taurus 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 III, 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 III, Scene X — Another part of the Plain
Canidius marching with his land army one way over the stage, and Taurus, the Lieutenant of Caesar, with his Army, 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 kissed away Kingdoms and provinces.
ENOBARBUS. How appears the fight?
SCARUS. On our side, like the tokened 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 appeared, Both as the same—or, rather, ours the elder— The breeze 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 loofed, 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 III, Scene XI — Alexandria. A Room in the Palace
Enter Antony with attendants.
ANTONY. Hark, the land bids me tread no more upon’t. It is ashamed 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 resolved upon a course Which has no need of you. Be gone. My treasure’s in the harbour. Take it. O, I followed 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 straightway. 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, Iras and Eros.
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 declined, 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 ’Stroyed 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 played as I pleased, 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 he 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 III, Scene XII — Caesar’s camp in Egypt
Enter Caesar, Agrippa, Dolabella with others.
CAESAR. Let him appear that’s come from Antony. Know you him?
DOLABELLA. Caesar, ’tis his schoolmaster— An argument that he is plucked, when hither He sends so poor a pinion of his wing, Which had superfluous kings for messengers Not many moons gone by.
Enter Ambassador from Anthony.
CAESAR. Approach, and speak.
AMBASSADOR. 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.
AMBASSADOR. 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.
AMBASSADOR. Fortune pursue thee!
CAESAR. Bring him through the bands.
[Exit Ambassador, attended.]
[To Thidias.] 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, Thidias; Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we Will answer as a law.
THIDIAS. Caesar, I go.
CAESAR. Observe how Antony becomes his flaw, And what thou think’st his very action speaks In every power that moves.
THIDIAS. Caesar, I shall.
[Exeunt.]
Act III, Scene XIII — Alexandria. A Room in the 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 nicked his captainship, at such a point, When half to half the world opposed, 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 the Ambassador with Antony.
ANTONY. Is that his answer?
AMBASSADOR. Ay, my lord.
ANTONY. The Queen shall then have courtesy, so she Will yield us up.
AMBASSADOR. 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 declined, sword against sword, Ourselves alone. I’ll write it. Follow me.
[Exeunt Antony and Ambassador.]
ENOBARBUS. Yes, like enough high-battled Caesar will Unstate his happiness, and be staged 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 subdued 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 kneeled 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 fallen lord Does conquer him that did his master conquer, And earns a place i’ th’ story.
Enter Thidias.
CLEOPATRA. Caesar’s will?
THIDIAS. Hear it apart.
CLEOPATRA. None but friends. Say boldly.
THIDIAS. 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.
THIDIAS. So.— Thus then, thou most renowned: Caesar entreats Not to consider in what case thou stand’st Further than he is Caesar.
CLEOPATRA. Go on; right royal.
THIDIAS. He knows that you embrace not Antony As you did love, but as you feared him.
CLEOPATRA. O!
THIDIAS. The scars upon your honour, therefore, he Does pity as constrained blemishes, Not as deserved.
CLEOPATRA. He is a god and knows What is most right. Mine honour was not yielded, But conquered 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 Enobarbus.]
THIDIAS. Shall I say to Caesar What you require of him? For he partly begs To be desired 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?
THIDIAS. My name is Thidias.
CLEOPATRA. Most kind messenger, Say to great Caesar this in deputation: I kiss his conqu’ring 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.
THIDIAS. ’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 mused of taking kingdoms in, Bestowed his lips on that unworthy place As it rained kisses.
Enter Antony and Enobarbus.
ANTONY. Favours, by Jove that thunders! What art thou, fellow?
THIDIAS. One that but performs The bidding of the fullest man and worthiest To have command obeyed.
ENOBARBUS. [Aside.] You will be whipped.
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.
THIDIAS. Mark Antony—
ANTONY. Tug him away. Being whipp’d, Bring him again. This jack of Caesar’s shall Bear us an errand to him.
[Exeunt Servants with Thidias.]
You were half blasted ere I knew you. Ha! Have I my pillow left unpressed in Rome, Forborne the getting of a lawful race, And by a gem of women, to be abused 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 seal 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 Gneius Pompey’s, besides what hotter hours, Unregistered 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 haltered neck which does the hangman thank For being yare about him.
Enter a Servant with Thidias.
Is he whipped?
SERVANT. Soundly, my lord.
ANTONY. Cried he? And begged he 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 whipped 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 Thidias.]
CLEOPATRA. Have you done yet?
ANTONY. Alack, our terrene moon is now eclipsed, 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 severed navy too 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-sinewed, hearted, breathed, 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 tonight 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 IV, Scene I — Caesar’s Camp at 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 whipped 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 tomorrow the last of many battles We mean to fight. Within our files there are, Of those that served 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 earned the waste. Poor Antony!
[Exeunt.]
Act IV, Scene II — Alexandria. A Room in the 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. Tomorrow, 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 tonight Be bounteous at our meal.—
Enter Servants.
Give me thy hand. Thou has been rightly honest; so hast thou, Thou, and thou, and thou. You have served 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 clapped up together in An Antony, that I might do you service So good as you have done.
ALL THE SERVANTS. The gods forbid!
ANTONY. Well, my good fellows, wait on me tonight. Scant not my cups, and make as much of me As when mine empire was your fellow too And suffered my command.
CLEOPATRA. [Aside to Enobarbus.] What does he mean?
ENOBARBUS. [Aside to Cleopatra.] To make his followers weep.
ANTONY. Tend me tonight; May be it is the period of your duty. Haply you shall not see me more, or if, A mangled shadow. Perchance tomorrow 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 tonight 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-eyed. 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 tomorrow, 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 IV, Scene III — Alexandria. Before the Palace
Enter a Company of Soldiers.
FIRST SOLDIER. Brother, good night. Tomorrow 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.
Enter two other Soldiers.
SECOND SOLDIER. Soldiers, have careful watch.
THIRD SOLDIER. And you. Good night, good night.
[They place themselves in every corner of the stage.]
SECOND SOLDIER. Here we. And if tomorrow Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope Our landmen will stand up.
FIRST SOLDIER. ’Tis a brave army, and full of purpose.
[Music of the hautboys under the stage.]
SECOND SOLDIER. Peace, what noise?
FIRST SOLDIER. List, list!
SECOND SOLDIER. Hark!
FIRST SOLDIER. Music i’ th’ air.
THIRD SOLDIER. Under the earth.
FOURTH SOLDIER. It signs well, does it not?
THIRD SOLDIER. No.
FIRST SOLDIER. Peace, I say! What should this mean?
SECOND SOLDIER. ’Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved, Now leaves him.
FIRST SOLDIER. Walk. Let’s see if other watchmen Do hear what we do.
[They advance to another post.]
SECOND SOLDIER. How now, masters!
ALL. 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.
ALL. Content. ’Tis strange.
[Exeunt.]
Act IV, Scene IV — Alexandria. A Room in the Palace
Enter Antony and Cleopatra 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 thine iron on. If fortune be not ours today, 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 today, and knew’st The royal occupation, thou shouldst see A workman in’t.
Enter an Officer, armed.
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.
OFFICER. A thousand, sir, Early though’t be, have on their riveted trim And at the port expect you.
[Shout. Trumpets flourish.]
Enter other 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. [Kisses her.] 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 IV, Scene V — Antony’s camp near Alexandria
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 prevailed 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 sayest 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 IV, Scene VI — Alexandria. Caesar’s camp
Flourish. Enter Agrippa, Caesar with Enobarbus and Dolabella.
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-nooked 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 van That Antony may seem to spend his fury Upon himself.
[Exeunt Caesar and his Train.]
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 Caesar hath hanged 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 safed 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 IV, Scene VII — Field of battle between the Camps
Alarum. Drums and Trumpets. Enter Agrippa and others.
AGRIPPA. Retire! We have engaged 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.
Sounds retreat far off. 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 IV, 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. Tomorrow, Before the sun shall see’s, we’ll spill the blood That has today escaped. I thank you all, For doughty-handed are you, and have fought Not as you served 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 honoured gashes whole.
Enter Cleopatra.
[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 armed 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 today 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 deserved it, were it carbuncled Like holy Phœbus’ car. Give me thy hand. Through Alexandria make a jolly march; Bear our hacked 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 IV, Scene IX — Caesar’s camp
Enter a Sentry and his company. Enobarbus follows.
SENTRY. If we be not relieved 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.
SENTRY. 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.
SENTRY. Let’s hear him, for the things he speaks may concern Caesar.
SECOND WATCH. Let’s do so. But he sleeps.
SENTRY. 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?
SENTRY. 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 IV, Scene X — Ground between the two Camps
Enter Antony and Scarus with their army.
ANTONY. Their preparation is today 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 IV, Scene XI — Another part of the Ground
Enter Caesar and his army.
CAESAR. But being charged, 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 IV, Scene XII — Another part of the Ground
Alarum afar off, as at a sea fight. Enter Antony and Scarus.
ANTONY. Yet they are not joined. 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 augurs 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.
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-turned 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 revenged upon my charm, I have done all. Bid them all fly! Be gone!
[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 spanieled me at heels, to whom I gave Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets On blossoming Caesar, and this pine is barked That overtopped them all. Betray’d I am: O this false soul of Egypt! This grave charm, Whose eye becked forth my wars and called them home, Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end, Like a right gypsy hath at fast and loose Beguiled me to the very heart of loss. What, Eros, Eros!
Enter Cleopatra.
Ah, thou spell! Avaunt!
CLEOPATRA. Why is my lord enraged 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 dolts, 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’ th’ moon, And with those hands that grasped 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 IV, Scene XIII — Alexandria. A Room in the 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 embossed.
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 IV, Scene XIV — Alexandria. Another Room
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 towered citadel, a pendant 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 annexed unto’t A million more, now lost—she, Eros, has Packed cards with Caesar, and false-played 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 robbed me of my sword.
MARDIAN. No, Antony, My mistress loved thee and her fortunes mingled With thine entirely.
ANTONY. Hence, saucy eunuch! Peace! She hath betrayed me and shall die the death.
MARDIAN. Death of one person can be paid but once, And that she has discharged. 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 rendered 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!
Enter Eros.
EROS. What would my lord?
ANTONY. Since Cleopatra died, I have lived in such dishonour that the gods Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword Quartered 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 windowed in great Rome and see Thy master thus with pleached arms, bending down His corrigible neck, his face subdued To penetrative shame, whilst the wheeled 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 cured. 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 unpurposed. 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! [kills himself] Thus do I escape the sorrow Of Antony’s death.
[Dies.]
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 learned of thee. How? Not dead? Not dead? The guard, ho! O, dispatch me!
Enter a company of the Guard, one of them Dercetus.
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 fallen.
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 anyone.
[Exeunt guard.]
DERCETUS. 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?
DERCETUS. There, Diomed, there.
DIOMEDES. Lives he? Wilt thou not answer, man?
[Exit Dercetus.]
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. Locked 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 disposed with Caesar, and that your rage Would not be purged, 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, bearing Antony.]
Act IV, 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, Proportioned to our cause, must be as great As that which makes it.
Enter, below Diomedes.
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 triumphed 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-fortuned Caesar ever shall Be brooched 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-winged Mercury should fetch thee up And set thee by Jove’s side. Yet come a little; Wishers were ever fools. O come, come come,
[They heave Antony aloft to Cleopatra.]
And welcome, welcome! Die where thou hast lived; 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, Provoked 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 lived 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 vanquished. 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, withered is the garland of the war, The soldier’s pole is fallen; young boys and girls Are level now with men. The odds is gone, And there is nothing left remarkable Beneath the visiting moon.
[Faints.]
CHARMIAN. O, quietness, lady!
IRAS. She is 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 stolen our jewel. All’s but naught; 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, bearing off Antony’s body.]