Act IScene III
Alexandria. A Room in Cleopatra’s palace
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas and Iras.
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, reportThat 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 enforceThe 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 natureWill 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 queenSo mightily betrayed! Yet at the firstI 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 vowsWhich 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 sued 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 poorBut was a race of heaven. They are so still,Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,Art turned the greatest liar.
Antony
How now, lady!
Cleopatra
I would I had thy inches, thou shouldst knowThere were a heart in Egypt.
Antony
Hear me, queen:The strong necessity of time commandsOur services awhile, but my full heartRemains in use with you. Our ItalyShines o’er with civil swords; Sextus PompeiusMakes his approaches to the port of Rome;Equality of two domestic powersBreed scrupulous faction; the hated, grown to strength,Are newly grown to love; the condemned Pompey,Rich in his father’s honour, creeps apaceInto the hearts of such as have not thrivedUpon the present state, whose numbers threaten;And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purgeBy 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 readThe garboils she awaked; at the last, best,See when and where she died.
Cleopatra
O most false love!Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fillWith sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,In Fulvia’s death how mine received shall be.
Antony
Quarrel no more, but be prepared to knowThe purposes I bear; which are, or cease,As you shall give th’ advice. By the fireThat quickens Nilus’ slime, I go from henceThy soldier, servant, making peace or warAs thou affects.
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 standsAn honourable trial.
Cleopatra
So Fulvia told me.I prithee, turn aside and weep for her,Then bid adieu to me, and say the tearsBelong to Egypt. Good now, play one sceneOf excellent dissembling, and let it lookLike 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, prithee, Charmian,How this Herculean Roman does becomeThe 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 loved, 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 royaltyHolds idleness your subject, I should take youFor idleness itself.
Cleopatra
’Tis sweating labourTo bear such idleness so near the heartAs Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me,Since my becomings kill me when they do notEye well to you. Your honour calls you hence;Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly,And all the gods go with you! Upon your swordSit laurel victory, and smooth successBe strewed before your feet!
Antony
Let us go. Come.Our separation so abides and fliesThat thou, residing here, goes yet with me,And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.Away!
Exeunt.