Antony and Cleopatra

breathed,
And fight maliciously: for when mine hours
Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives
Of me for jests; but now I’ll set my teeth,
And send to darkness all that stop me. Come,
Let’s have one other gaudy night: call to me
All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more;
Let’s mock the midnight bell. Cleopatra

It is my birth-day:
I had thought to have held it poor; but, since my lord
Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.

Antony We will yet do well. Cleopatra Call all his noble captains to my lord. Antony

Do so, we’ll speak to them; and to-night I’ll force
The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen;
There’s sap in’t yet. The next time I do fight,
I’ll make death love me; for I will contend
Even with his pestilent scythe. Exeunt all but Enobarbas.

Enobarbas

Now he’ll outstare the lightning. To be furious,
Is to be frighted out of fear; and in that mood
The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still,
A diminution in our captain’s brain
Restores his heart: when valour preys on reason,
It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek
Some way to leave him. Exit.

Act IV

Scene I

Before Alexandria. Caesar’s camp.

	Enter Caesar, Agrippa, and Mecaenas, with his Army; Caesar reading a letter.
Caesar	He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power To beat me out of Egypt; my messenger He hath whipp’d with rods; dares me to personal combat, Caesar to Antony: let the old ruffian know I have many other ways to die; meantime Laugh at his challenge.
Mecaenas	Caesar must think, When one so great begins to rage, he’s hunted Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now Make boot of his distraction: never anger Made good guard for itself.
Caesar	Let our best heads Know, that to-morrow the last of many battles We mean to fight: within our files there are, Of those that served Mark Antony but late, Enough to fetch him in. See it done: And feast the army; we have store to do’t, And they have earn’d the waste. Poor Antony! Exeunt.

Scene II

Alexandria. Cleopatra’s palace.

	Enter Antony, Cleopatra, Enobarbas, Charmian, Iras, Alexas, with others.
Antony	He will not fight with me, Domitius.
Enobarbas	No.
Antony	Why should he not?
Enobarbas	He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, He is twenty men to one.
Antony	To-morrow, soldier, By sea and land I’ll fight: or I will live, Or bathe my dying honour in the blood Shall make it live again. Woo’t thou fight well?
Enobarbas	I’ll strike, and cry “Take all.”
Antony	Well said; come on. Call forth my household servants: let’s to-night Be bounteous at our meal.
	Enter three or four Servitors.
	Give me thy hand, Thou hast been rightly honest;⁠—so hast thou;⁠— Thou⁠—and thou⁠—and thou:⁠—you have served me well, And kings have been your fellows.
Cleopatra	Aside to Enobarbas. What means this?
Enobarbas	Aside to Cleopatra. ’Tis one of those odd tricks which sorrow shoots Out of the mind.
Antony	And thou art honest too. I wish I could be made so many men, And all of you clapp’d up together in An Antony, that I might do you service So good as you have done.
All	The gods forbid!
Antony	Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night: Scant not my cups; and make as much of me As when mine empire was your fellow too, And suffer’d my command.
Cleopatra	Aside to Enobarbas. What does he mean?
Enobarbas	Aside to Cleopatra. To make his followers weep.
Antony	Tend me to-night; May be it is the period of your duty: Haply you shall not see me more; or if, A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow You’ll serve another master. I look on you As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends, I turn you not away; but, like a master Married to your good service, stay till death: Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more, And the gods yield you for’t!
Enobarbas	What mean you, sir, To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep; And I, an ass, am onion-eyed: for shame, Transform us not to women.
Antony	Ho, ho, ho! Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus! Grace grow where those drops fall! My hearty friends, You take me in too dolorous a sense; For I spake to you for your comfort; did desire you To burn this night with torches: know, my hearts, I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you Where rather I’ll expect victorious life Than death and honour. Let’s to supper, come, And drown consideration. Exeunt.

Scene III

The same. Before the palace.

	Enter two Soldiers to their guard.
First Soldier	Brother, good night: to-morrow is the day.
Second Soldier	It will determine one way: fare you well. Heard you of nothing strange about the streets?
First Soldier	Nothing. What news?
Second Soldier	Belike ’tis but a rumour. Good night to you.
First Soldier	Well, sir, good night.
	Enter two other Soldiers.
Second Soldier	Soldiers, have careful watch.
Third Soldier	And you. Good night, good night. They place themselves in every corner of the stage.
Fourth Soldier	Here we: and if to-morrow Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope Our landmen will stand up.
Third Soldier	’Tis a brave army, And full of purpose. Music of the hautboys as under the stage.
Fourth Soldier	Peace! what noise?
First Soldier	List, list!
Second Soldier	Hark!
First Soldier	Music i’ the air.
Third Soldier	Under the earth.
Fourth Soldier	It signs well, does it not?
Third Soldier	No.
First Soldier	Peace, I say! What should this mean?
Second Soldier	’Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved, Now leaves him.
First Soldier	Walk; let’s see if other watchmen Do hear what we do? They advance to another post.
Second Soldier	How now, masters!
All	Speaking together. How now! How now! do you hear this?
First Soldier	Ay; is’t not strange?
Third Soldier	Do you hear, masters? do you hear?
First Soldier	Follow the noise so far as we have quarter; Let’s see how it will give off.
All	Content. ’Tis strange. Exeunt.

Scene IV

The same. A room in the palace.

Enter Antony and Cleopatra, Charmian, and