THE TRAGEDIE OF Anthonie, and Cleopatra. Act 1, Scene 3.

Where is he?

I did not see him since.

To Alexas

To Alexas

Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly,
You do not hold the method to enforce
The like from him.

What should I do I do not?

In each thing give him way, crofs him in nothing.

Thou teachest like a fool:-the way to lose him.

Tempt him not so too far.

Enter ANTONY.

I am sisk , and sullen.

To Charmian aside.

I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose.

Help me away dear Charmian, I shall fall,
It cannot be thus long, the sides of Nature
Will not sustaine it.

Now my dearest queen.

Pray you, stand farther from me.

What's the matter?

I know, by that same eye ther's some good news.
What says the marry'd woman? You may go?
Would she had never giv'n you levue to come!
Let her not say, 'tis I that keepe you heere,
I have no power vpon you: her's you are.

The Gods best know,

O, never was there queen
So mightily betray'd! Yet at the first,
I saw the treasons planted.

Cleopatra,

Why should I thinke you can be mine, and true,
Though you in swearing, shake the throaned gods
Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness,
To be entangl'd with those mouth-made vows,
Which break themselves in swearing!

Most sweet queen.

Nay pray you, seek no colour for your going,
But bid farewel, and go: when you su'dstaying,
Then was the time for words. No going then;
Eternity was in our lips and eyes;
Bliss in our brows, and none our parts so poor,
But was a race of Heaven.

Hear me queen;
The strong necessity of time, commands
Our services awhile; but my full heart
Remaines in use with you. Our Italy,
Shines o'er with civil swords; my more particular,
And that which most with you should safe my going,
Is Fulvia's death.

Her death! - Can Fulvia dye?

She's dead my queen.

O most false Love!
Where be the sacred vials thou should'st fill
With sorrowfull water? Now I see, I see,
In Fulvia's death, how mine shall be receiv'd.

Quarrell no more, but be prepar'd to know
The purposes I bear: which are, or cease,
As you shall give advice. Now, by the fire
That quickens Nillus slime, I go out hence
Thy soldier, servant, making peace or war,
As thou affect'st.

Cut my lace, Charmian; come;
But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well,
So Antony loves.

My precious queen forbear,
And give true evidence to his love, which stands
An honourable Triall.

So was Fulvia told:
I pr'ythee turne a side, and weep for her,
Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears
Belong to Ægypt. Good now, play one scene
Of excellent dissembling: and let it looke
Like perfect honor.

You'll heat my blood; no more.

You can do better yet; but this is meetly.

Now, by my sword,

And target, -- still he mends;
But this is not the best. Looke pr'ythee, Charmian,
How this Herculean Roman does become
The carriage of his chase.

I'll leave you, lady.

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 Anthony,
And I am all forgotten.

But that your majesty
Holds idlenesse your subject, I should take you
For idlenesse it self.

Your Honor calles you hence,
Therefore be deaf to my unpity's dolly,
And all the gods go with you! On your sword
Sit laurell'd victory, and smooth success
Be strew'd before your feet!

Let us go.
Come: Our separation so abides and slies,
That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me;
And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.