READ STUDY GUIDE: Act I, scenes i–iii | Act I, scenes iv–v; Act II, scenes i–ii |
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Act I, Scene iii:
Alexandria. A Room in CLEOPATRA'S palace.
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.] |
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