Ant. How now Lady? Cleo. I would I had thy inches, thou should'st know There were a heart in Egypt
Ant. Heare me Queene: The strong necessity of Time, commands Our Seruices a-while: but my full heart Remaines in vse with you. Our Italy, Shines o're with ciuill Swords; Sextus Pompeius Makes his approaches to the Port of Rome, Equality of two Domesticke powers, Breed scrupulous faction: The hated growne to strength Are newly growne to Loue: The condemn'd Pompey, Rich in his Fathers Honor, creepes apace Into the hearts of such, as haue not thriued Vpon the present state, whose Numbers threaten, And quietnesse growne sicke of rest, would purge By any desperate change: My more particular, And that which most with you should safe my going, Is Fuluias death
Cleo. Though age from folly could not giue me freedom It does from childishnesse. Can Fuluia dye? Ant. She's dead my Queene. Looke heere, and at thy Soueraigne leysure read The Garboyles she awak'd: at the last, best, See when, and where shee died
Cleo. O most false Loue! Where be the Sacred Violles thou should'st fill With sorrowfull water? Now I see, I see, In Fuluias death, how mine receiu'd shall be
Ant. Quarrell no more, but bee prepar'd to know The purposes I beare: which are, or cease, As you shall giue th' aduice. By the fire That quickens Nylus slime, I go from hence Thy Souldier, Seruant, making Peace or Warre, As thou affects
Cleo. Cut my Lace, Charmian come, But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well, So Anthony loues
Ant. My precious Queene forbeare, And giue true euidence to his Loue, which stands An honourable Triall
Cleo. So Fuluia told me. I prythee turne aside, and weepe for her, Then bid adiew to me, and say the teares Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one Scene Of excellent dissembling, and let it looke Like perfect Honor
Ant. You'l heat my blood no more? Cleo. You can do better yet: but this is meetly
Ant. Now by Sword
Cleo. And Target. Still he mends. But this is not the best. Looke prythee Charmian, How this Herculean Roman do's become The carriage of his chafe
Ant. Ile leaue you Lady
Cleo. Courteous Lord, one word: Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it: Sir, you and I haue lou'd, but there's not it: That you know well, something it is I would: Oh, my Obliuion is a very Anthony, And I am all forgotten
Ant. But that your Royalty Holds Idlenesse your subiect, I should take you For Idlenesse it selfe
Cleo. 'Tis sweating Labour, To beare such Idlenesse so neere the heart As Cleopatra this. But Sir, forgiue me, Since my becommings kill me, when they do not Eye well to you. Your Honor calles you hence, Therefore be deafe to my vnpittied Folly, And all the Gods go with you. Vpon your Sword Sit Lawrell victory, and smooth successe Be strew'd before your feete
Ant. Let vs go. Come: Our separation so abides and flies, That thou reciding heere, goes yet with mee; And I hence fleeting, heere remaine with thee. Away.
Exeunt.
Enter Octauius reading a Letter, Lepidus, and their Traine.
Caes You may see Lepidus, and henceforth know, It is not Caesars Naturall vice, to hate One great Competitor. From Alexandria This is the newes: He fishes, drinkes, and wastes The Lampes of night in reuell: Is not more manlike Then Cleopatra: nor the Queene of Ptolomy More Womanly then he. Hardly gaue audience Or vouchsafe to thinke he had Partners. You Shall finde there a man, who is th' abstracts of all faults, That all men follow
Lep. I must not thinke There are, euils enow to darken all his goodnesse: His faults in him, seeme as the Spots of Heauen, More fierie by nights Blacknesse; Hereditarie, Rather then purchaste: what he cannot change, Then what he chooses