Act IIIScene 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 willLord of his reason. What though you fledFrom that great face of war, whose several rangesFrighted each other? Why should he follow?The itch of his affection should not thenHave nicked his captainship, at such a point,When half to half the world opposed, he beingThe mered question. ’Twas a shame no lessThan was his loss, to course your flying flagsAnd 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 sheWill 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 brimWith principalities.
Cleopatra
That head, my lord?
Antony
To him again. Tell him he wears the roseOf youth upon him, from which the world should noteSomething particular: his coin, ships, legions,May be a coward’s; whose ministers would prevailUnder the service of a child as soonAs i’ th’ command of Caesar. I dare him thereforeTo 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 willUnstate his happiness, and be staged to th’ showAgainst a sworder! I see men’s judgments areA parcel of their fortunes, and things outwardDo draw the inward quality after themTo suffer all alike. That he should dream,Knowing all measures, the full Caesar willAnswer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subduedHis 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 noseThat 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 makeOur faith mere folly. Yet he that can endureTo follow with allegiance a fallen lordDoes 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 masterWill leap to be his friend. For us, you knowWhose he is we are, and that is Caesar’s.
Thidias
So.—Thus then, thou most renowned: Caesar entreatsNot to consider in what case thou stand’stFurther than he is Caesar.
Cleopatra
Go on; right royal.
Thidias
He knows that you embrace not AntonyAs you did love, but as you feared him.
Cleopatra
O!
Thidias
The scars upon your honour, therefore, heDoes pity as constrained blemishes,Not as deserved.
Cleopatra
He is a god and knowsWhat 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 leakyThat we must leave thee to thy sinking, forThy dearest quit thee.
Exit Enobarbus.
Thidias
Shall I say to CaesarWhat you require of him? For he partly begsTo be desired to give. It much would please himThat of his fortunes you should make a staffTo lean upon. But it would warm his spiritsTo 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 promptTo lay my crown at’s feet, and there to kneel.Tell him, from his all-obeying breath I hearThe 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 layMy duty on your hand.
Cleopatra
Your Caesar’s father oft,When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in,Bestowed his lips on that unworthy placeAs it rained kisses.
Enter Antony and Enobarbus.
Antony
Favours, by Jove that thunders!What art thou, fellow?
Thidias
One that but performsThe bidding of the fullest man and worthiestTo 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 forthAnd cry “Your will?” Have you no ears? I amAntony yet.
Enter Servants.
Take hence this jack and whip him.
Enobarbus
’Tis better playing with a lion’s whelpThan with an old one dying.
Antony
Moon and stars!Whip him. Were’t twenty of the greatest tributariesThat do acknowledge Caesar, should I find themSo saucy with the hand of she here—what’s her nameSince she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows,Till like a boy you see him cringe his faceAnd 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 shallBear 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 abusedBy 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 usAdore our errors, laugh at’s while we strutTo our confusion.
Cleopatra
O, is’t come to this?
Antony
I found you as a morsel cold uponDead Caesar’s trencher; nay, you were a fragmentOf Gneius Pompey’s, besides what hotter hours,Unregistered in vulgar fame, you haveLuxuriously 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 rewardsAnd say “God quit you!” be familiar withMy playfellow, your hand, this kingly sealAnd plighter of high hearts! O that I wereUpon the hill of Basan, to outroarThe horned herd! For I have savage cause,And to proclaim it civilly were likeA haltered neck which does the hangman thankFor 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 repentThou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorryTo follow Caesar in his triumph, sinceThou hast been whipped for following him. HenceforthThe white hand of a lady fever thee;Shake thou to look on’t. Get thee back to Caesar;Tell him thy entertainment. Look thou sayHe makes me angry with him; for he seemsProud 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 guidesHave empty left their orbs and shot their firesInto th’ abysm of hell. If he mislikeMy speech and what is done, tell him he hasHipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whomHe 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 eyesWith 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 hailAnd poison it in the source, and the first stoneDrop in my neck; as it determines, soDissolve 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 NileHave buried them for prey!
Antony
I am satisfied.Caesar sits down in Alexandria, whereI will oppose his fate. Our force by landHath nobly held; our severed navy tooHave 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 moreTo 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 hoursWere nice and lucky, men did ransom livesOf me for jests. But now I’ll set my teethAnd send to darkness all that stop me. Come,Let’s have one other gaudy night. Call to meAll my sad captains. Fill our bowls once moreLet’s mock the midnight bell.
Cleopatra
It is my birthday.I had thought t’have held it poor, but since my lordIs 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 forceThe wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen,There’s sap in’t yet. The next time I do fightI’ll make Death love me, for I will contendEven with his pestilent scythe.
Exeunt all but Enobarbus.
Enobarbus
Now he’ll outstare the lightning. To be furiousIs to be frighted out of fear, and in that moodThe dove will peck the estridge; and I see stillA diminution in our captain’s brainRestores his heart. When valour preys on reason,It eats the sword it fights with. I will seekSome way to leave him.
Exit.