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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