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Bring him again: the Jack of Caesar's shall

Bear us an errand to him. Exeunt servants 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 seel 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?

ANTONY.

To let a fellow that will take rewards,

And say 'God quit you!' be familiar with

My playfellow, your hand, this kingly seal

And plighter of high hearts! O that I were

Upon the hill of Basan to outroar

The horned herd! For I have savage cause,

And to proclaim it civilly were like

A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank

For being yare about him.

Re-enter a SERVANT with THYREUS

Is he whipt?

SERVANT.

Soundly, my lord.

ANTONY.

Cried he? and begg'd 'a pardon?

SERVANT.

He did ask favour.

ANTONY.

If that thy father live, let him repent

Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry

To follow Caesar in his triumph, since

Thou hast been whipt for following him. Henceforth

The white hand of a lady fever thee!

Shake thou to look on't. Get thee back to Caesar;

Tell him thy entertainment; look thou say

He makes me angry with him; for he seems

Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am,

Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry;

And at this time most easy 'tis to do't,

When my good stars, that were my former guides,

Have empty left their orbs and shot their fires

Into th' abysm of hell. If he mislike

My speech and what is done, tell him he has

Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom

He may at pleasure whip or hang or torture,

As he shall like, to quit me. Urge it thou.

Hence with thy stripes, be gone. Exit THYREUS

CLEOPATRA.

Have you done yet?

ANTONY.

Alack, our terrene moon

Is now eclips'd, and it portends alone

The fall of Antony.

CLEOPATRA.

I must stay his time.

ANTONY.

To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes

With one that ties his points?

CLEOPATRA.

Not know me yet?

ANTONY.

Cold-hearted toward me?

CLEOPATRA.

Ah, dear, if I be so,

From my cold heart let heaven engender hail,

And poison it in the source, and the first stone

Drop in my neck; as it determines, so

Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite!

Till by degrees the memory of my womb,

Together with my brave Egyptians all,

By the discandying of this pelleted storm,

Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile

Have buried them for prey.

ANTONY.

I am satisfied.

Caesar sits down in Alexandria, where

I will oppose his fate. Our force by land

Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy to

Have knit again, and fleet, threat'ning most sea-like.

Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady?

If from the field I shall return once more

To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood.

I and my sword will earn our chronicle.

There's hope in't yet.

CLEOPATRA.

That's my brave lord!

ANTONY.

I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breath'd,

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 birthday.

I had thought t'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