William Shakespeare: Antony and Cleopatra

ACT III. 13. SCENE XIII. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. (continued)

ANTONY.
Approach there.--Ah, you kite!--Now, gods and devils!
Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried 'Ho!'
Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth
And cry 'Your will?' Have you no ears? I am
Antony yet.

[Enter Attendants.]

Take hence this Jack and whip him.

ENOBARBUS.
'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp
Than with an old one dying.

ANTONY.
Moon and stars!
Whip him.--Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries
That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them
So saucy with the hand of she here,--what's her name
Since she was Cleopatra?--Whip him, fellows,
Till like a boy you see him cringe his face,
And whine aloud for mercy: take him hence.

THYMUS.
Mark Antony,--

ANTONY.
Tug him away: being whipp'd,
Bring him again.--This Jack of Caesar's shall
Bear us an errand to him.--

[Exeunt Attendants with THYREUS.]

You were half blasted ere I knew you.--Ha!
Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome,
Forborne the getting of a lawful race,
And by a gem of women, to be abus'd
By one that looks on feeders?

CLEOPATRA.
Good my lord,--

ANTONY.
You have been a boggler ever:--
But when we in our viciousness grow hard,--
O misery on't!--the wise gods seal our eyes;
In our own filth drop our clear judgments: make us
Adore our errors; laugh at's while we strut
To our confusion.

CLEOPATRA.
O, is't come to this?

ANTONY.
I found you as a morsel cold upon
Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment
Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours,
Unregist'red in vulgar fame, you have
Luxuriously pick'd out:--for I am sure,
Though you can guess what temperance should be,
You know not what it is.

CLEOPATRA.
Wherefore is this?