Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/The Tragedie of Anthonie, and Cleopatra/Act 4 Scene 12
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Enter Anthony, and Scarrus.
Ant.
Yet they are not ioyn'd:
Where yon'd Pine does stand, I shall discouer all.
Ile bring thee word straight, how 'ris like to go.
exit.
Scar.
Swallowes haue built
In Cleopatra's Sailes their nests. The Auguries
Say, they know not, they cannot tell, looke grimly,
Note: A pencil line has been drawn under this line.
And dare not speake their knowledge. Anthony,
Is valiant, and deiected, and by starts
His fretted Fortunes giue him hope and feare
Of what he has, and has not.
Yet they are not ioyn'd:
Where yon'd Pine does stand, I shall discouer all.
Ile bring thee word straight, how 'ris like to go.
exit.
Scar.
Swallowes haue built
In Cleopatra's Sailes their nests. The Auguries
Say, they know not, they cannot tell, looke grimly,
Note: A pencil line has been drawn under this line.
And dare not speake their knowledge. Anthony,
Is valiant, and deiected, and by starts
His fretted Fortunes giue him hope and feare
Of what he has, and has not.
Enter Anthony.
Ant.
All is lost:
This fowle Egyptian hath betrayed me:
My Fleete hath yeelded to the Foe, and yonder
They cast their Caps vp, and Carowse together
Like Friends long lost. Triple-turn'd Whore, 'tis thou
Hast sold me to this Nouice, and my heart
Makes onely Warres on thee. Bid them all flye:
For when I am reueng'd vpon my Charme,
I haue done all. Bid them all flye, be gone.
Oh Sunne, thy vprise shall I see no more,
Fortune, and Anthony part heere, euen heere
Do we shake hands? All come to this? The hearts
That pannelled me at heeles, to whom I gaue
Their wishes, do dis-Candie, melt their sweets
On blossoming Cæsar: And this Pine is barkt,
That ouer-top'd them all. Betray'd I am.
Oh this false Soule of Egypt! this graue Charme,
Whose eye beck'd forth my Wars, & cal'd them home:
Whose Bosome was my Crownet, my chiefe end,
Like a right Gypsie, hath at fast and loose
Beguil'd me, to the very heart of losse.
What Eros, Eros?
Enter Cleopatra.
Ah, thou Spell! Auaunt.
All is lost:
This fowle Egyptian hath betrayed me:
My Fleete hath yeelded to the Foe, and yonder
They cast their Caps vp, and Carowse together
Like Friends long lost. Triple-turn'd Whore, 'tis thou
Hast sold me to this Nouice, and my heart
Makes onely Warres on thee. Bid them all flye:
For when I am reueng'd vpon my Charme,
I haue done all. Bid them all flye, be gone.
Oh Sunne, thy vprise shall I see no more,
Fortune, and Anthony part heere, euen heere
Do we shake hands? All come to this? The hearts
That pannelled me at heeles, to whom I gaue
Their wishes, do dis-Candie, melt their sweets
On blossoming Cæsar: And this Pine is barkt,
That ouer-top'd them all. Betray'd I am.
Oh this false Soule of Egypt! this graue Charme,
Whose eye beck'd forth my Wars, & cal'd them home:
Whose Bosome was my Crownet, my chiefe end,
Like a right Gypsie, hath at fast and loose
Beguil'd me, to the very heart of losse.
What Eros, Eros?
Enter Cleopatra.
Ah, thou Spell! Auaunt.
Cleo.
Why is my Lord enrag'd against his Loue?
Why is my Lord enrag'd against his Loue?
Ant.
Vanish, or I shall giue thee thy deseruing,
And blemish Cæsars Triumph. Let him take thee,
And hoist thee vp to the shouting Plebeians,
Follow his Chariot, like the greatest spot
Of all thy Sex. Most Monster-like be shewne
For poor'st Diminitiues, for Dolts, and let
Patient Octauia, plough thy visage vp
exit Cleopatra.With her prepared nailes.
'Tis well th'art gone,
If it be well to liue. But better 'twere
Thou fell'st into my furie, for one death
Might haue preuented many. Eros, hoa?
The shirt of Nessus is vpon me, teach me
Alcides, thou mine Ancestor, thy rage.
Let me lodge Licas on the hornes o'th'Moone,
And with those hands that graspt the heauiest Club,
Subdue my worthiest selfe: The Witch shall die,
To the young Roman Boy she hath sold me, and I fall
exit.Vnder this plot: She dyes for't. Eros hoa?
Vanish, or I shall giue thee thy deseruing,
And blemish Cæsars Triumph. Let him take thee,
And hoist thee vp to the shouting Plebeians,
Follow his Chariot, like the greatest spot
Of all thy Sex. Most Monster-like be shewne
For poor'st Diminitiues, for Dolts, and let
Patient Octauia, plough thy visage vp
exit Cleopatra.With her prepared nailes.
'Tis well th'art gone,
If it be well to liue. But better 'twere
Thou fell'st into my furie, for one death
Might haue preuented many. Eros, hoa?
The shirt of Nessus is vpon me, teach me
Alcides, thou mine Ancestor, thy rage.
Let me lodge Licas on the hornes o'th'Moone,
And with those hands that graspt the heauiest Club,
Subdue my worthiest selfe: The Witch shall die,
To the young Roman Boy she hath sold me, and I fall
exit.Vnder this plot: She dyes for't. Eros hoa?