Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. | |
| |
Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and Others. | |
| Ant. He will not fight with me, Domitius. | |
| Eno. No. | 4 |
| Ant. Why should he not? | |
| Eno. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, | |
| He is twenty men to one. | |
| Ant. To-morrow, soldier, | 8 |
| By sea and land I’ll fight: or I will live, | |
| Or bathe my dying honour in the blood | |
| Shall make it live again. Woo’t thou fight well? | |
| Eno. I’ll strike, and cry, ‘Take all.’ | 12 |
| Ant. Well said; come on. | |
| Call forth my household servants; let’s tonight | |
| Be bounteous at our meal. | |
| |
Enter three or four Servitors. | 16 |
| Give me thy hand, | |
| Thou hast been rightly honest; so hast thou; | |
| Thou; and thou, and thou: you have serv’d me well, | |
| And kings have been your fellows. | 20 |
| Cleo. What means this? | |
| Eno. [Aside to CLEOPATRA.] ’Tis one of those odd tricks which sorrow shoots | |
| Out of the mind. | |
| Ant. And thou art honest too. | 24 |
| I wish I could be made so many men, | |
| And all of you clapp’d up together in | |
| An Antony, that I might do you service | |
| So good as you have done. | 28 |
| Servants. The gods forbid! | |
| Ant. Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night, | |
| Scant not my cups, and make as much of me | |
| As when mine empire was your fellow too, | 32 |
| And suffer’d my command. | |
| Cleo. [Aside to ENOBARBUS.] What does he mean? | |
| Eno. [Aside to CLEOPATRA.] To make his followers weep. | |
| Ant. Tend me to-night; | 36 |
| May be it is the period of your duty: | |
| Haply, you shall not see me more; or if, | |
| A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow | |
| You’ll serve another master. I look on you | 40 |
| As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends, | |
| I turn you not away; but, like a master | |
| Married to your good service, stay till death. | |
| Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more, | 44 |
| And the gods yield you for’t! | |
| Eno. What mean you, sir, | |
| To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep; | |
| And I, an ass, am onion-ey’d: for shame, | 48 |
| Transform us not to women. | |
| Ant. Ho, ho, ho! | |
| Now, the witch take me, if I meant it thus! | |
| Grace grow where those drops fall! My hearty friends, | 52 |
| You take me in too dolorous a sense, | |
| For I spake to you for your comfort; did desire you | |
| To burn this night with torches. Know, my hearts, | |
| I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you | 56 |
| Where rather I’ll expect victorious life | |
| Than death and honour. Let’s to supper, come, | |
| And drown consideration. [Exeunt. | |
