ACT I.
3. SCENE III. Alexandria. A Room in CLEOPATRA'S palace.
(continued)
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!
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