Act I, Scene i:
Alexandria. A Room in CLEOPATRA'S palace.

[Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO.]

PHILO:

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.

[Flourish within.]

Look where they come:

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.

[Enter ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, with their trains; Eunuchs fanningher.]

CLEOPATRA:

If it be love indeed, tell me how much.

ANTONY:

There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.

CLEOPATRA:

I'll set a bourn how far to be belov'd.

ANTONY:

Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

[Enter an Attendant.]

ATTENDANT:

News, my good lord, from Rome.

ANTONY:

Grates me:—the sum.

CLEOPATRA:

Nay, hear them, Antony:

Fulvia perchance is angry; or who knows

If the scarce-bearded Caesar 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.'

ANTONY:

How, my love!

CLEOPATRA:

Perchance! Nay, and most like:—

You must not stay here longer,—your dismission

Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony.—

Where's Fulvia's process?—Caesar's I would say?—Both?—

Call in the messengers.—As I am Egypt's queen,

Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine

Is Caesar's homager: else so thy cheek pays shame

When shrill-tongu'd Fulvia scolds.—The messengers!

ANTONY:

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[Embracing]; when such a mutual pair

And such a twain can do't, in which I bind,

On pain of punishment, the world to weet

We stand up peerless.

CLEOPATRA:

Excellent falsehood!

Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?—

I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony

Will be himself.

ANTONY:

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 to-night?

CLEOPATRA:

Hear the ambassadors.

ANTONY:

Fie, wrangling queen!

Whom everything 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.]

DEMETRIUS:

Is Caesar with Antonius priz'd so slight?

PHILO:

Sir, sometimes when he is not Antony,

He comes too short of that great property

Which still should go with Antony.

DEMETRIUS:

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.]