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Makes his approaches to the port of Rome;

Equality of two domestic powers

Breed scrupulous faction; the hated, grown to strength,

Are newly grown to love. The condemn'd Pompey,

Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace

Into the hearts of such as have not thrived

Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;

And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge

By any desperate change. My more particular,

And that which most with you should safe my going,

Is Fulvia's death.

CLEOPATRA.

Though age from folly could not give me freedom,

It does from childishness. Can Fulvia die?

ANTONY.

She's dead, my Queen.

Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read

The garboils she awak'd. At the last, best.

See when and where she died.

CLEOPATRA.

O most false love!

Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill

With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,

In Fulvia's death how mine receiv'd shall be.

ANTONY.

Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know

The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,

As you shall give th' advice. By the fire

That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence

Thy soldier, servant, making peace or war

As thou affects.

CLEOPATRA.

Cut my lace, Charmian, come!

But let it be; I am quickly ill and well-

So Antony loves.

ANTONY.

My precious queen, forbear,

And give true evidence to his love, which stands

An honourable trial.

CLEOPATRA.

So Fulvia told me.

I prithee turn aside and weep for her;

Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears

Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one scene

Of excellent dissembling, and let it look

Like perfect honour.

ANTONY.

You'll heat my blood; no more.

CLEOPATRA.

You can do better yet; but this is meetly.

ANTONY.

Now, by my sword-

CLEOPATRA.

And target. Still he mends;

But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian,

How this Herculean Roman does become

The carriage of his chafe.

ANTONY.

I'll leave you, lady.

CLEOPATRA.

Courteous lord, one word.

Sir, you and I must part- but that's not it.

Sir, you and I have lov'd- but there's not it.

That you know well. Something it is I would-

O, my oblivion is a very Antony,

And I am all forgotten!

ANTONY.

But that your royalty

Holds idleness your subject, I should take you

For idleness itself.

CLEOPATRA.

'Tis sweating labour

To bear such idleness so near the heart

As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me;

Since my becomings kill me when they do not

Eye well to you. Your honour calls you hence;

Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly,

And all the gods go with you! Upon your sword

Sit laurel victory, and smooth success

Be strew'd before your feet!

ANTONY.

Let us go. Come.

Our separation so abides and flies

That thou, residing here, goes yet with me,

And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.

Away! Exeunt

SCENE IV. Rome. CAESAR'S house

Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, reading a letter; LEPIDUS, and their train

CAESAR.

You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know,

It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate

Our great competitor. From Alexandria

This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes

The lamps of night in revel; is not more manlike

Than Cleopatra, nor the queen of Ptolemy

More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or

Vouchsaf'd to think he had partners. You shall find there

A man who is the abstract of all faults

That all men follow.

LEPIDUS.

I must not think there are

Evils enow to darken all his goodness.

His faults, in him, seem as the spots of heaven,

More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary

Rather than purchas'd; what he cannot change

Than what he chooses.

CAESAR.

You are too indulgent. Let's grant it is not

Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy,

To give a kingdom for a mirth, to sit

And keep the turn of tippling with a slave,

To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet

With knaves that smell of sweat. Say this becomes him-

As his composure must be rare indeed

Whom these things cannot blemish- yet must Antony

No way excuse his foils when we do bear

So great weight in his lightness.