But when we in our viciousness grow hard--O misery on't!--the wise gods seel 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? MARK ANTONY I found you as a morsel cold upon Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours, Unregister'd 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? MARK 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 halter'd neck which does the hangman thank For being yare about him.
Re-enter Attendants with THYREUS
Is he whipp'd? First Attendant Soundly, my lord. MARK ANTONY Cried he? and begg'd a' pardon? First Attendant He did ask favour. MARK 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 whipp'd 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 the 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, begone!
Exit THYREUS CLEOPATRA Have you done yet? MARK ANTONY Alack, our terrene moon Is now eclipsed; and it portends alone The fall of Antony! CLEOPATRA I must stay his time. MARK ANTONY To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes With one that ties his points? CLEOPATRA Not know me yet? MARK 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! MARK ANTONY I am satisfied.
Caesar sits down in Alexandria; where I will oppose his fate. Our force by land Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too Have knit again, and fleet, threatening 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! MARK ANTONY I will be treble-sinew'd, 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 birth-day:
I had thought to have held it poor: but, since my lord Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra. MARK ANTONY We will yet do well. CLEOPATRA Call all his noble captains to my lord. MARK ANTONY Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night 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 DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS DOMITIUS 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.
