| ACT III.
11. SCENE XI. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.
 (continued)ANTONY.
Yes, my lord, yes;--he at Philippi kept
 His sword e'en like a dancer; while I struck
 The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I
 That the mad Brutus ended; he alone
 Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practice had
 In the brave squares of war: yet now--no matter.
 
 CLEOPATRA.
Ah, stand by.
 
 EROS.
The queen, my lord, the queen!
 
 IRAS.
Go to him, madam, speak to him:
 He is unqualitied with very shame.
 
 CLEOPATRA.
Well then,--sustain me.--O!
 
 EROS.
Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches:
 Her head's declin'd, and death will seize her, but
 Your comfort makes the rescue.
 
 ANTONY.
I have offended reputation,--
 A most unnoble swerving.
 
 EROS.
Sir, the queen.
 
 ANTONY.
O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See
 How I convey my shame out of thine eyes
 By looking back, what I have left behind
 'Stroy'd in dishonour.
 
 CLEOPATRA.
O my lord, my lord,
 Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought
 You would have follow'd.
 
 ANTONY.
Egypt, thou knew'st too well
 My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings,
 And thou shouldst tow me after: o'er my spirit
 Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that
 Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods
 Command me.
 
 CLEOPATRA.
O, my pardon!
 
 ANTONY.
Now I must
 To the young man send humble treaties, dodge
 And palter in the shifts of lowness; who
 With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleas'd,
 Making and marring fortunes. You did know
 How much you were my conqueror; and that
 My sword, made weak by my affection, would
 Obey it on all cause.
 
 CLEOPATRA.
Pardon, pardon!
 
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