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

[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS.]

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, report

That 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 enforce

The 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 nature

Will 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 queen

So mightily betray'd! Yet at the first

I 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 vows,

Which 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 su'd 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 poor

But was a race of heaven: they are so still,

Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,

Art turn'd the greatest liar.

ANTONY:

How now, lady!

CLEOPATRA:

I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know

There were a heart in Egypt.

ANTONY:

Hear me, queen:

The strong necessity of time commands

Our services awhile; but my full heart

Remains in use with you. Our Italy

Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius

Makes his approaches to the port of Rome;

Equality of two domestic powers

Breed scrupulous faction: the hated, grown to strength,

Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey,

Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace

Into the hearts of such as have not thriv'd

Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;

And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge

By 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, read

The garboils she awak'd;at the last, best.

See when and where she died.

CLEOPATRA:

O most false love!

Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill

With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,

In Fulvia's death how mine receiv'd shall be.

ANTONY:

Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know

The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,

As you shall give theadvice. By the fire

That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence

Thy soldier, servant, making peace or war

As thou affect'st.

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 stands

An honourable trial.

CLEOPATRA:

So Fulvia told me.

I pr'ythee, turn aside and weep for her;

Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears

Belong to Egypt: good now, play one scene

Of excellent dissembling; and let it look

Like 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, pr'ythee, Charmian,

How this Herculean Roman does become

The 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 lov'd,—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 royalty

Holds idleness your subject, I should take you

For idleness itself.

CLEOPATRA:

'Tis sweating labour

To bear such idleness so near the heart

As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me;

Since my becomings kill me, when they do not

Eye well to you: your honour calls you hence;

Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly,

And all the gods go with you! upon your sword

Sit laurel victory! and smooth success

Be strew'd before your feet!

ANTONY:

Let us go. Come;

Our separation so abides, and flies,

That thou, residing here, goes yet with me,

And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.

Away!

[Exeunt.]