ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. АСТ І. SCENE I. Alexandria. A room in Cleopatra's palace. Enter Demetrius and Philo. Philo. NAY, but this dotage of our general's, O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes, Upon a tawny frout: his captain's heart, To cool a gipsy's lust. Look where they come! Flourish. Enter Antony and Cleopatra, with their trains; Eunuchs fanning her. Take but good note, and you shall see in him * Renounces. The triple pillar of the world transform'd Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see. Cleo. If it be love indeed, tell me how much. Ant. There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd. Cleo. I'll set a bourn how far to be belov'd. Ant. Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth. Enter an Attendant. Att. News, my good lord, from Rome. Ant. Gratest me:-The sum. Cleo. Nay, hear them, Antony: Fulvia, perchance, is angry; Or, who knows Ant. How, my love! Call in the messengers.-As I am Egypt's queen, [Embracing. And such a twain can do't, in which, I bind Bound or limit. + Subdue, conquer + Offends. Summons. On pain of punishment, the world to weet*, Cleo. Excellent falshood! Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?- Will be himself. Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra. Now, for the love of Love, and her soft hours, Ant. Fye, wrangling queen! Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, To weep; whose every passion fully strives To-night, we'll wander through the streets, and note Last night you did desire it:-Speak not to us. [Exeunt Ant. and Cleop. with their train. Dem. Is Cæsar with Antonius priz'd so slight? Phi. Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony, He comes too short of that great property Which still should go with Antony. Dem. I'm full sorry, That he approves the common liar, who Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy! [Exeunt. * Know. + Consume. + Fame. SCENE II. The same. Another room. Enter Charmian, Iras, Alexas, and a Soothsayer Char. Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, 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 change his horns with garlands! Alex. Soothsayer. Sooth. Your will? Char. Is this the man ?-Is't you, sir, that know things? Sooth. In nature's infinite book of secrecy, A little I can read. Alex. Show him your hand. Enter Enobarbus. Eno. Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough, Cleopatra's health to drink. Char. Good sir, give me good fortune. Sooth. I make not, but foresee. Char. Pray then, foresee me one. Sooth. You shall be yet far fairer than you are. Char. He means, in flesh. Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old. Char. Wrinkles forbid ! Aler. Vex not his prescience; be attentive. Sooth. You shall be more beloving, than beloved. Char. 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 Cæsar, and companion me with my mistress. Sooth. You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. Char. O excellent! I love long life better than figs. Sooth. You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune Than that which is to approach. Char. Then, belike, my children shall have no names: Pr'ythee, how many boys and wenches must I have? Sooth. If every of your wishes had a womb, And fertile every wish, a million. Char. Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. Aler. You think, none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. Char. Nay, come, tell Iras hers. Alex. We'll know all our fortunes. Eno. Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall be drunk to bed. Irus. There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. Char. Even as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine. Iras. Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. Char. Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear.-Pr'ythee, tell her but a worky-day fortune. Sooth. Your fortunes are alike. Iras. But how, but how? give me particulars. lras. Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it? Iras. Not in my husband's nose. Char. Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas, come, his fortune, his fortune.-O, let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I be Shall be bastards. |