Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read 60
The garboils she awak'd; at the last, best,
See when and where she died.
Cleo. O most false love!
Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill
With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see, 64
In Fulvia's death, how mine receiv'd shall be.
Ant. Quarrel no more, but be prepar'd to know
The purposes I bear, which are or cease
As you shall give the advice. By the fire 68
That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence
Thy soldier, servant, making peace or war
As thou affect'st.
Cleo. Cut my lace, Charmian, come;
But let it be: I am quickly ill, and well; 72
So Antony loves.
Ant. My precious queen, forbear,
And give true evidence to his love which stands
An honourable trial.
Cleo. So Fulvia told me.
I prithee, turn aside and weep for her; 76
Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears
Belong to Egypt: good now, play one scene
Of excellent dissembling, and let it look
Like perfect honour.
Ant. You'll heat my blood; no more. 80
Cleo. You can do better yet, but this is meetly.
Ant. Now, by my sword,—
Cleo. And target. Still he mends;
But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian,
How this Herculean Roman does become 84
The carriage of his chafe.
61 garboils: brawls
68, 69 By the fire . . . slime; cf. n.
71 affect'st: art inclined
81 meetly: fairly good
82 target: shield
84, 85 How this Herculean . . . chafe; cf. n.
