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Fulvia perchance is angry; or who knows |
If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent |
His pow'rful 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 [emhracing], 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 the 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 |
SCENE II. |
Alexandria. CLEOPATRA'S palace |
Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a SOOTHSAYER |
CHARMIAN. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most anything Alexas, almost |
most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer that you prais'd so |
to th' Queen? O that I knew this husband, which you say must |
charge his horns with garlands! |
ALEXAS. Soothsayer! |
SOOTHSAYER. Your will? |
CHARMIAN. Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that know things? |
SOOTHSAYER. In nature's infinite book of secrecy |
A little I can read. |
ALEXAS. Show him your hand. |
Enter ENOBARBUS |
ENOBARBUS. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough |
Cleopatra's health to drink. |
CHARMIAN. Good, sir, give me good fortune. |
SOOTHSAYER. I make not, but foresee. |
CHARMIAN. Pray, then, foresee me one. |
SOOTHSAYER. You shall be yet far fairer than you are. |
CHARMIAN. He means in flesh. |
IRAS. No, you shall paint when you are old. |
CHARMIAN. Wrinkles forbid! |
ALEXAS. Vex not his prescience; be attentive. |
CHARMIAN. Hush! |
SOOTHSAYER. You shall be more beloving than beloved. |
CHARMIAN. I had rather heat my liver with drinking. |
ALEXAS. Nay, hear him. |
CHARMIAN. Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married to |
three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all. Let me have a |
child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage. Find me to |
marry me with Octavius Caesar, and companion me with my mistress. |
SOOTHSAYER. You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. |
CHARMIAN. O, excellent! I love long life better than figs. |
SOOTHSAYER. You have seen and prov'd a fairer former fortune |
Than that which is to approach. |
CHARMIAN. Then belike my children shall have no names. |
Prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have? |
SOOTHSAYER. If every of your wishes had a womb, |
And fertile every wish, a million. |
CHARMIAN. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. |
ALEXAS. You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. |
CHARMIAN. Nay, come, tell Iras hers. |
ALEXAS. We'll know all our fortunes. |
ENOBARBUS. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be- |
drunk to bed. |
IRAS. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. |
CHARMIAN. E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine. |
IRAS. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. |
CHARMIAN. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I |
cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee, tell her but worky-day fortune. |
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