Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/The Tragedie of Anthonie, and Cleopatra/Act 4 Scene 12
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 builtIn Cleopatra's Sailes their nests. The AuguriesSay, 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 startsHis fretted Fortunes giue him hope and feareOf 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 yonderThey cast their Caps vp, and Carowse togetherLike Friends long lost. Triple-turn'd Whore, 'tis thouHast sold me to this Nouice, and my heartMakes 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 heereDo we shake hands? All come to this? The heartsThat pannelled me at heeles, to whom I gaueTheir wishes, do dis-Candie, melt their sweetsOn 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 looseBeguil'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?
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 spotOf all thy Sex. Most Monster-like be shewneFor poor'st Diminitiues, for Dolts, and letPatient Octauia, plough thy visage vpexit Cleopatra.With her prepared nailes.'Tis well th'art gone,If it be well to liue. But better 'twereThou fell'st into my furie, for one deathMight haue preuented many. Eros, hoa?The shirt of Nessus is vpon me, teach meAlcides, 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 fallexit.Vnder this plot: She dyes for't. Eros hoa?