Her length of sickness, with what else more serious Ant. [Gives a letter. Forbear me. [Exit Sec. Messenger. There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it: The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; Re-enter ENOBARBUS. Eno. What's your pleasure, sir? Ant. I must with haste from hence. Eno. Why then we kill all our women. We see how 120 125 mortal an unkindness is to them; if they suffer our depart- 130 ure, death's the word. Ant. I must be gone. Eno. Under a compelling occasion let women die: it were pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. 135 Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such a celerity in dying. Ant. She is cunning past man's thought. 140 Eno. Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love: we cannot call her winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this cannot be cunning. in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove. 145 Ant. Would I had never seen her! Eno. O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of work; which not to have been blest withal would have discredited your travel. Ant. Fulvia is dead. Eno. Sir? Ant. Fulvia is dead. Eno. Fulvia! Ant. Dead. 150 Eno. Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When 155 it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth, comforting therein, that when old robes are worn out there are members to make new. If there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the case to be lamented: this 160 grief is crowned with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new petticoat: and indeed the tears live in an onion that should water this sorrow. Ant. The business she hath broached in the state Cannot endure my absence. Eno. And the business you have broached here cannot be without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode. 165 Ant. No more light answers. Let our officers Have notice what we purpose. I shall break The sides o' the world may danger. Much is breeding, 170 175 180 185 heire F,F2 it Nicholson conj. SCENE III. The same. Another room. Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS. Cleo. Where is he? Char. I did not see him since. Cleo. See where he is, who's with him, what he does: I did not send you: if you find him sad, Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report That I am sudden sick: quick, and return. [Exit Alexas. 5 Char. 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? Cleo. But here comes Antony. ΤΟ Cleo. Enter ANTONY. I am sick and sullen. Ant. I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,— 15 Ant. Now, my dearest queen, Cleo. Pray you, stand farther from me. Ant. What's the matter? Cleo. I know, by that same eye, there's some good news. I have no power upon you; hers you are. 20 O, never was there queen 25 So mightily betray'd! yet at the first. I saw the treasons planted. Ant. Cleopatra, Cleo. Why should I think you can be mine and true, Ant. Most sweet queen,— Cleo. Nay, pray you, seck no colour for your going, Bliss in our brows' bent, none our parts so poor 30 35 |