Alexandria. A Room in CLEOPATRA'S Palace. |
|
Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO. |
Phi. Nay, but this dotage of our general's |
O'erflows the measure; those his goodly eyes, |
That o'er the files and musters of the war |
Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn |
The office and devotion of their view |
Upon a tawny front; his captain's heart, |
Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst |
The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper, |
And is become the bellows and the fan |
To cool a gipsy's lust. Look! where they come. |
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Flourish. Enter ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, with their Trains; Eunuchs fanning her. |
Take but good note, and you shall see in him |
The triple pillar of the world transform'd |
Into a strumpet's fool; behold and see. |
Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much. |
Ant. There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd. |
Cleo. I'll set a bourn how far to be belov'd. |
Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth. |
|
Enter an Attendant. |
Att. News, my good lord, from Rome. |
Ant. Grates me; the sum. |
Cleo. Nay, hear them, Antony: |
Fulvia, perchance, is angry; or, who knows |
If the scarce-bearded Cæsar have not sent |
His powerful mandate to you, 'Do this, or this; |
Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that; |
Perform 't, or else we damn thee.' |
Ant. How, my love! |
Cleo. Perchance! nay, and most like; |
You must not stay here longer; your dismission |
Is come from Cæsar; therefore hear it, Antony. |
Where's Fulvia's process? Cæsar's I would say? both? |
Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's queen, |
Thou blushest, Antony, and that blood of thine |
Is Cæsar's homager; else so thy cheek pays shame |
When shrill-tongu'd Fulvia scolds. The messengers! |
Ant. Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch |
Of the rang'd empire fall! Here is my space. |
Kingdoms are clay; our dungy earth alike |
Feeds beast as man; the nobleness of life |
Is to do thus; when such a mutual pair [Embracing. |
And such a twain can do 't, in which I bind, |
On pain of punishment, the world to weet |
We stand up peerless. |
Cleo. Excellent falsehood! |
Why did he marry Fulvia and not love her? |
I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony |
Will be himself. |
Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra. |
Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours, |
Let's not confound the time with conference harsh: |
There's not a minute of our lives should stretch |
Without some pleasure now. What sport tonight? |
Cleo. Hear the ambassadors. |
Ant. Fie, wrangling queen! |
Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, |
To weep; whose every passion fully strives |
To make itself, in thee, fair and admir'd. |
No messenger, but thine; and all alone, |
To-night we'll wander through the streets and note |
The qualities of people. Come, my queen; |
Last night you did desire it: speak not to us. [Exeunt ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, with their Train. |
Dem. Is Cæsar with Antonius priz'd so slight? |
Phi. Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony, |
He comes too short of that great property |
Which still should go with Antony. |
Dem. I am full sorry |
That he approves the common liar, who |
Thus speaks of him at Rome; but I will hope |
Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy! [Exeunt. |
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