Enter Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, and Iras
What shall we do, Enobarbus?
Think, and die.
Is Antony or we in fault for this?
Antony only, that would make his will
Lord of his reason. What though you fled
From that great face of war, whose several ranges
Frighted each other? Why should he follow?
The itch of his affection should not then
Have nicked his captainship, at such a point,
[unclear meaning] cut through, maim; do out of, cheat of; mark with foolishness
When half to half the world opposed, he being
The mered question. 'Twas a shame no less
[unclear meaning] sole, entire; particular, specific
Than was his loss, to course your flying flags
And leave his navy gazing.
Enter the Ambassador, with Antony
Is that his answer?
Ay, my lord.
The Queen shall then have courtesy, so she
Will yield us up.
He says so.
Let her know't. –
To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head,
And he will fill thy wishes to the brim
That head, my lord?
To him again! Tell him he wears the rose
Of youth upon him; from which the world should note
Something particular. His coin, ships, legions,
May be a coward's, whose ministers would prevail
Under the service of a child as soon
As i'th' command of Caesar. I dare him therefore
To lay his gay comparisons apart,
And answer me declined, sword against sword,
brought low, in poor fortune; or: fallen away in vigour, in poor condition
Ourselves alone. I'll write it. Follow me.
Exeunt Antony and Ambassador
Yes, like enough, high-battled Caesar will
Unstate his happiness and be staged to th' show,
Against a sworder! I see men's judgements are
A parcel of their fortunes, and things outward
Do draw the inward quality after them
To suffer all alike. That he should dream,
Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will
Answer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subdued
His judgement too.
Enter a Servant
A messenger from Caesar.
What, no more ceremony? See, my women,
Against the blown rose may they stop their nose
That kneeled unto the buds. Admit him, sir.
Mine honesty and I begin to square.
The loyalty well held to fools does make
Our faith mere folly. Yet he that can endure
To follow with allegiance a fallen lord
Does conquer him that did his master conquer
And earns a place i'th' story.
Hear it apart.
None but friends; say boldly.
So, haply, are they friends to Antony.
He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has,
Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master
Will leap to be his friend; for us, you know,
Whose he is we are, and that is Caesar's.
Thus then, thou most renowned: Caesar entreats
Not to consider in what case thou stand'st
Further than he is Caesar.
Go on; right royal.
He knows that you embraced not Antony
As you did love, but as you feared him.
The scars upon your honour therefore he
Does pity, as constrained blemishes,
Not as deserved.
He is a god, and knows
What is most right. Mine honour was not yielded,
But conquered merely.
To be sure of that,
I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky
That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for
Thy dearest quit thee.
Shall I say to Caesar
What you require of him? For he partly begs
To be desired to give. It much would please him
That of his fortunes you should make a staff
To lean upon. But it would warm his spirits
To hear from me you had left Antony,
And put yourself under his shroud,
The universal landlord.
What's your name?
My name is Thidias.
Most kind messenger,
Say to great Caesar this: in deputation
I kiss his conquering hand. Tell him I am prompt
To lay my crown at's feet, and there to kneel,
Till him from his all-obeying breath I hear
The doom of Egypt.
doom (n.) 2
final destiny, deciding fate, death and destruction
'Tis your noblest course.
Wisdom and fortune combating together,
If that the former dare but what it can,
No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay
My duty on your hand.
She gives him her hand
Your Caesar's father oft,
When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in,
Bestowed his lips on that unworthy place,
As it rained kisses.
Enter Antony and Enobarbus
Favours, by Jove that thunders!
What art thou, fellow?
One that but performs
The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest
To have command obeyed.
You will be whipped.
Approach there! – Ah, you kite! Now, gods and devils!
bird of prey; thieving bird [of ill omen; also, strong term of abuse]
Authority melts from me. Of late, when I cried ‘ Ho!’,
Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth
type of children's game in which players scramble for things thrown on the ground
And cry ‘ Your will?’ Have you no ears? I am
Jack (n.) 1
Jack-in-office, ill-mannered fellow, lout, knave
Take hence this Jack and whip him.
'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp
Than with an old one dying.
Moon and stars!
Whip him! Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries
That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them
So saucy with the hand of she here – what's her name,
Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows,
Till like a boy you see him cringe his face
And whine aloud for mercy. Take him hence.
Mark Antony –
Tug him away. Being whipped,
Bring him again. This Jack of Caesar's shall
Jack (n.) 1
Jack-in-office, ill-mannered fellow, lout, knave
Exeunt servants with Thidias
Bear us an errand to him.
You were half blasted ere I knew you. Ha!
Have I my pillow left unpressed in Rome,
Forborne the getting of a lawful race,
And by a gem of women, to be abused
By one that looks on feeders?
Good my lord –
You have been a boggler ever.
But when we in our viciousness grow hard –
O, misery on't! – the wise gods seel our eyes,
[falconry: sewing up a bird's eyelids, as part of taming] sew up, close up, blind
In our own filth drop our clear judgements, make us
Adore our errors, laugh at's while we strut
To our confusion.
O, is't come to this?
I found you as a morsel cold upon
Dead Caesar's trencher. Nay, you were a fragment
Of Gnaeus Pompey's, besides what hotter hours,
Unregistered in vulgar fame, you have
Luxuriously picked out. For I am sure,
Though you can guess what temperance should be,
You know not what it is.
Wherefore is this?
To let a fellow that will take rewards
And say ‘ God quit you!’ be familiar with
My playfellow, your hand, this kingly seal
And plighter of high hearts! O that I were
Upon the hill of Basan to outroar
The horned herd! For I have savage cause,
And to proclaim it civilly were like
A haltered neck which does the hangman thank
For being yare about him.
Enter a Servant with Thidias
Is he whipped?
Soundly, my lord.
Cried he? And begged 'a pardon?
He did ask favour.
If that thy father live, let him repent
Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry
To follow Caesar in his triumph, since
Thou hast been whipped for following him. Henceforth
The white hand of a lady fever thee;
Shake thou to look on't. Get thee back to Caesar.
Tell him thy entertainment. Look thou say
He makes me angry with him; for he seems
Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry,
And at this time most easy 'tis to do't,
When my good stars that were my former guides
Have empty left their orbs and shot their fires
Into th' abysm of hell. If he mislike
My speech and what is done, tell him he has
Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom
He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
As he shall like, to quit me. Urge it thou.
Hence with thy stripes, be gone!
Have you done yet?
Alack, our terrene moon
Is now eclipsed, and it portends alone
The fall of Antony.
I must stay his time.
To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes
With one that ties his points?
point (n.) 2
(usually plural) tagged lace [especially for attaching hose to the doublet]
Not know me yet?
Cold-hearted toward me?
Ah, dear, if I be so,
From my cold heart let heaven engender hail,
And poison it in the source, and the first stone
Drop in my neck: as it determines, so
Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite,
Till by degrees the memory of my womb,
Together with my brave Egyptians all,
By the discandying of this pelleted storm,
Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile
Have buried them for prey!
I am satisfied.
Caesar sits down in Alexandria, where
I will oppose his fate. Our force by land
Hath nobly held; our severed navy too
Have knit again, and fleet, threatening most sea-like.
Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady?
If from the field I shall return once more
To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood.
I and my sword will earn our chronicle.
There's hope in't yet.
That's my brave lord!
I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed,
And fight maliciously. For when mine hours
Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives
Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth,
And send to darkness all that stop me. Come,
Let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me
All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more.
Let's mock the midnight bell.
It is my birthday.
I had thought t' have held it poor. But since my lord
Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.
We will yet do well.
Call all his noble captains to my lord.
Do so, we'll speak to them; and tonight I'll force
The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen,
There's sap in't yet! The next time I do fight,
I'll make death love me, for I will contend
Even with his pestilent scythe.
Exeunt all but Enobarbus
Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious
Is to be frighted out of fear, and in that mood
The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still
A diminution in our captain's brain
Restores his heart. When valour preys on reason,
It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek
Some way to leave him.