almost most absolute Alexas, where’s the soothsayer that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew this husband, which, you say, must charge his horns with garlands!
| Alexas | 
Soothsayer! | 
| Soothsayer | 
Your will? | 
| Charmian | 
Is this the man? Is’t you, sir, that know things? | 
| Soothsayer | 
 In nature’s infinite book of secrecy 
A little I can read. 
 | 
| Alexas | 
Show him your hand. | 
 | 
Enter Enobarbas. | 
| Enobarbas | 
 Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough 
Cleopatra’s health to drink. 
 | 
| Charmian | 
Good sir, give me good fortune. | 
| Soothsayer | 
I make not, but foresee. | 
| Charmian | 
Pray, then, foresee me one. | 
| Soothsayer | 
You shall be yet far fairer than you are. | 
| Charmian | 
He means in flesh. | 
| Iras | 
No, you shall paint when you are old. | 
| Charmian | 
Wrinkles forbid! | 
| Alexas | 
Vex not his prescience; be attentive. | 
| Charmian | 
Hush! | 
| Soothsayer | 
You shall be more beloving than beloved. | 
| Charmian | 
I had rather heat my liver with drinking. | 
| Alexas | 
Nay, hear him. | 
| Charmian | 
Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all: let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius Caesar, and companion me with my mistress. | 
| Soothsayer | 
You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. | 
| Charmian | 
O excellent! I love long life better than figs. | 
| Soothsayer | 
 You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune 
Than that which is to approach. 
 | 
| Charmian | 
Then belike my children shall have no names: prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have? | 
| Soothsayer | 
 If every of your wishes had a womb, 
And fertile every wish, a million. 
 | 
| Charmian | 
Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. | 
| Alexas | 
You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. | 
| Charmian | 
Nay, come, tell Iras hers. | 
| Alexas | 
We’ll know all our fortunes. | 
| Enobarbas | 
Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be—drunk to bed. | 
| Iras | 
There’s a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. | 
| Charmian | 
E’en as the o’erflowing Nilus presageth famine. | 
| Iras | 
Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. | 
| Charmian | 
Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee, tell her but a worky-day fortune. | 
| Soothsayer | 
Your fortunes are alike. | 
| Iras | 
But how, but how? give me particulars. | 
| Soothsayer | 
I have said. | 
| Iras | 
Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? | 
| Charmian | 
Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it? | 
| Iras | 
Not in my husband’s nose. | 
| Charmian | 
Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas—come, his fortune, his fortune! O, let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! and let her die too, and give him a worse! and let worst follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee! | 
| Iras | 
Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! for, as it is a heartbreaking to see a handsome man loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded: therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum, and fortune him accordingly! | 
| Charmian | 
Amen. | 
| Alexas | 
Lo, now, if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but they’ld do’t! | 
| Enobarbas | 
Hush! here comes Antony. | 
| Charmian | 
Not he; the queen. | 
 | 
Enter Cleopatra. | 
| Cleopatra | 
Saw you my lord? | 
| Enobarbas | 
No, lady. | 
| Cleopatra | 
Was he not here? | 
| Charmian | 
No, madam. | 
| Cleopatra | 
 He was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden 
A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus! 
 | 
| Enobarbas | 
Madam? | 
| Cleopatra | 
Seek him, and bring him hither. Where’s Alexas? | 
| Alexas | 
Here, at your service. My lord approaches. | 
| Cleopatra | 
We will not look upon him: go with us. Exeunt. | 
 | 
Enter Antony with a Messenger and Attendants. | 
| Messenger | 
Fulvia thy wife first came into the field. | 
| Antony | 
Against my brother Lucius? | 
| Messenger | 
 Ay: 
But soon that war had end, and the time’s state 
Made friends of them, joining their force ’gainst Caesar; 
Whose better issue in the war, from Italy, 
Upon the first encounter, drave them. 
 | 
| Antony | 
Well, what worst? | 
| Messenger | 
The nature of bad news infects the teller. | 
| Antony | 
 When it concerns the fool or coward. On: 
Things that are past are done with me. ’Tis thus; 
Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death, 
I hear him as he flatter’d. 
 | 
| Messenger | 
 Labienus— 
This is stiff news—hath, with his Parthian force, 
Extended Asia from Euphrates; 
His conquering banner shook from Syria 
To Lydia and to Ionia; 
Whilst— 
 | 
| Antony | 
Antony, thou wouldst say— | 
| Messenger | 
O, my lord! | 
| Antony | 
 Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue: 
Name Cleopatra as she is call’d in Rome; 
Rail thou in Fulvia’s phrase; and taunt my faults 
With such full license as both truth and malice 
Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds, 
When our quick minds lie still; and our ills told us 
Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile. 
 | 
| Messenger | 
At your noble pleasure. Exit. | 
| Antony | 
From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there! | 
| First Attendant | 
The man from Sicyon—is there such an one? | 
| Second Attendant | 
He stays upon your will. | 
| Antony | 
 Let him appear. 
These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, 
Or lose myself in dotage. 
 | 
 | 
Enter another Messenger. | 
 | 
What are you? | 
| Second Messenger | 
Fulvia thy wife is dead. | 
| Antony | 
Where died she? | 
| Second Messenger | 
 In Sicyon: 
Her length of sickness, with what else more serious 
Importeth thee to know, this bears. Gives a letter. 
 | 
| Antony | 
 Forbear me. Exit Second Messenger. 
There’s a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it: 
What our contempt doth often hurl from us, 
We wish it ours again; the present pleasure, 
By revolution lowering, does become 
The opposite of itself: she’s good, being gone; 
The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on. 
I must from this enchanting queen break off: 
Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know, 
My idleness doth hatch. How now! Enobarbus! 
 | 
 | 
Re-enter Enobarbas. | 
| Enobarbas | 
What’s your pleasure, sir? | 
| Antony | 
I must with haste from hence. | 
| Enobarbas | 
Why, then, we kill all our women: we see how mortal an unkindness is to them; if they suffer our departure, death’s the word. | 
| Antony | 
I must be gone. | 
| Enobarbas | 
Under a compelling occasion, let women die: it were pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty times upon far |