Antonio y Cleopatra

Capítulo 1 - Parte 1

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA by William Shakespeare

Contents

ACT I

Scene I.

Alexandria. A Room in Cleopatra’s palace.

Scene II.

Alexandria. Another Room in Cleopatra’s palace.

Scene III.

Alexandria. A Room in Cleopatra’s palace.

Scene IV.

Rome. An Apartment in Caesar’s House

Scene V.

Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

ACT II

Scene I.

Messina. A Room in Pompey’s house.

Scene II.

Rome. A Room in the House of Lepidus.

Scene III.

Rome. A Room in Caesar’s House.

Scene IV.

Rome. A street.

Scene V.

Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

Scene VI.

Near Misenum.

Scene VII.

On board Pompey’s Galley, lying near Misenum.

ACT III

Scene I.

A plain in Syria.

Scene II.

Rome. An Ante-chamber in Caesar’s house.

Scene III.

Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

Scene IV.

Athens. A Room in Antony’s House.

Scene V.

Athens. Another Room in Antony’s House.

Scene VI.

Rome. A Room in Caesar’s House.

Scene VII.

Antony’s Camp near the Promontory of Actium.

Scene VIII.

A plain near Actium.

Scene IX.

Another part of the Plain.

Scene X.

Another part of the Plain.

Scene XI.

Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

Scene XII.

Caesar’s camp in Egypt.

Scene XIII.

Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

ACT IV

Scene I.

Caesar’s Camp at Alexandria.

Scene II.

Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

Scene III.

Alexandria. Before the Palace.

Scene IV.

Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

Scene V.

Antony’s camp near Alexandria.

Scene VI.

Alexandria. Caesar’s camp.

Scene VII.

Field of battle between the Camps.

Scene VIII.

Under the Walls of Alexandria.

Scene IX.

Caesar’s camp.

Scene X.

Ground between the two Camps.

Scene XI.

Another part of the Ground.

Scene XII.

Another part of the Ground.

Scene XIII.

Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

Scene XIV.

Alexandria. Another Room.

Scene XV.

Alexandria. A monument.

ACT V

Scene I.

Caesar’s Camp before Alexandria.

Scene II.

Alexandria. A Room in the Monument.

Dramatis Personæ

MARK ANTONY, Triumvir

OCTAVIUS CAESAR, Triumvir

LEPIDUS, Triumvir

SEXTUS POMPEIUS,

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, friend to Antony

VENTIDIUS, friend to Antony

EROS, friend to Antony

SCARUS, friend to Antony

DERCETUS, friend to Antony

DEMETRIUS, friend to Antony

PHILO, friend to Antony

MAECENAS, friend to Caesar

AGRIPPA, friend to Caesar

DOLABELLA, friend to Caesar

PROCULEIUS, friend to Caesar

THIDIAS, friend to Caesar

GALLUS, friend to Caesar

MENAS, friend to Pompey

MENECRATES, friend to Pompey

VARRIUS, friend to Pompey

TAURUS, Lieutenant-General to Caesar

CANIDIUS, Lieutenant-General to Antony

SILIUS, an Officer in Ventidius’s army

EUPHRONIUS, an Ambassador from Antony to Caesar

ALEXAS, attendant on Cleopatra

MARDIAN, attendant on Cleopatra

SELEUCUS, attendant on Cleopatra

DIOMEDES, attendant on Cleopatra

A SOOTHSAYER

A CLOWN

CLEOPATRA, Queen of Egypt

OCTAVIA, sister to Caesar and wife to Antony

CHARMIAN, Attendant on Cleopatra

IRAS, Attendant on Cleopatra

Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants

SCENE: Dispersed, in several parts of the Roman Empire.

ACT I

SCENE I. Alexandria. A Room in Cleopatra’s palace.

Enter Demetrius and Philo.

PHILO.

Nay, but this dotage of our general’s

O’erflows the measure. Those his goodly eyes,

That o’er the files and musters of the war

Have glowed like plated Mars, now bend, now turn

The office and devotion of their view

Upon a tawny front. His captain’s heart,

Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst

The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper

And is become the bellows and the fan

To cool a gipsy’s lust.

Flourish. Enter Antony and Cleopatra, her Ladies, the Train, with

Eunuchs fanning her.

Look where they come:

Take but good note, and you shall see in him

The triple pillar of the world transform’d

Into a strumpet’s fool. Behold and see.

CLEOPATRA.

If it be love indeed, tell me how much.

ANTONY.

There’s beggary in the love that can be reckoned.

CLEOPATRA.

I’ll set a bourn how far to be beloved.

ANTONY.

Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER.

News, my good lord, from Rome.

ANTONY.

Grates me, the sum.

CLEOPATRA.

Nay, hear them, Antony.

Fulvia perchance is angry; or who knows

If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent

His powerful mandate to you: “Do this or this;

Take in that kingdom and enfranchise that.

Perform’t, or else we damn thee.”

ANTONY.

How, my love?

CLEOPATRA.

Perchance! Nay, and most like.

You must not stay here longer; your dismission

Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony.

Where’s Fulvia’s process?—Caesar’s I would say? Both?

Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt’s queen,

Thou blushest, Antony, and that blood of thine

Is Caesar’s homager; else so thy cheek pays shame

When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers!

ANTONY.

Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch

Of the ranged empire fall! Here is my space.

Kingdoms are clay. Our dungy earth alike

Feeds beast as man. The nobleness of life

Is to do thus [Embracing]; when such a mutual pair

And such a twain can do’t, in which I bind,

On pain of punishment, the world to weet

We stand up peerless.

CLEOPATRA.

Excellent falsehood!

Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?

I’ll seem the fool I am not. Antony

Will be himself.

ANTONY.

But stirred by Cleopatra.

Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours,

Let’s not confound the time with conference harsh.

There’s not a minute of our lives should stretch

Without some pleasure now. What sport tonight?

CLEOPATRA.

Hear the ambassadors.

ANTONY.

Fie, wrangling queen!

Whom everything becomes—to chide, to laugh,

To weep; whose every passion fully strives

To make itself, in thee fair and admired!

No messenger but thine, and all alone

Tonight we’ll wander through the streets and note

The qualities of people. Come, my queen,

Last night you did desire it. Speak not to us.

[Exeunt Antony and Cleopatra with the Train.]

DEMETRIUS.

Is Caesar with Antonius prized so slight?

PHILO.

Sir, sometimes when he is not Antony,

He comes too short of that great property

Which still should go with Antony.

DEMETRIUS.

I am full sorry

That he approves the common liar who

Thus speaks of him at Rome, but I will hope

Of better deeds tomorrow. Rest you happy!

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II. Alexandria. Another Room in Cleopatra’s palace.

Enter Enobarbus, a Soothsayer, Charmian, Iras, Mardian and Alexas.

CHARMIAN.

Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most anything Alexas, almost most absolute

Alexas, where’s the soothsayer that you praised so to th’ queen? O, that I knew this husband which you say must charge his horns with garlands!

ALEXAS.

Soothsayer!

SOOTHSAYER.

Your will?

CHARMIAN.

Is this the man? Is’t you, sir, that know things?

SOOTHSAYER.

In nature’s infinite book of secrecy

A little I can read.

ALEXAS.

Show him your hand.

ENOBARBUS.

Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough

Cleopatra’s health to drink.

CHARMIAN.

Good, sir, give me good fortune.

SOOTHSAYER.

I make not, but foresee.

CHARMIAN.

Pray, then, foresee me one.

SOOTHSAYER.

You shall be yet far fairer than you are.

CHARMIAN.

He means in flesh.

IRAS.

No, you shall paint when you are old.

CHARMIAN.

Wrinkles forbid!

ALEXAS.

Vex not his prescience. Be attentive.

CHARMIAN.

Hush!

SOOTHSAYER.

You shall be more beloving than beloved.

CHARMIAN.

I had rather heat my liver with drinking.

ALEXAS.

Nay, hear him.

CHARMIAN.

Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married to three kings in a forenoon and widow them all. Let me have a child at fifty, to whom

Herod of Jewry may do homage. Find me to marry me with Octavius Caesar, and companion me with my mistress.

SOOTHSAYER.

You shall outlive the lady whom you serve.

CHARMIAN.

O, excellent! I love long life better than figs.

SOOTHSAYER.

You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune

Than that which is to approach.

CHARMIAN.

Then belike my children shall have no names. Prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have?

SOOTHSAYER.

If every of your wishes had a womb,

And fertile every wish, a million.

CHARMIAN.

Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch.

ALEXAS.

You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes.

CHARMIAN.

Nay, come, tell Iras hers.

ALEXAS.

We’ll know all our fortunes.

ENOBARBUS.

Mine, and most of our fortunes tonight, shall be drunk to bed.

IRAS.

There’s a palm presages chastity, if nothing else.

CHARMIAN.

E’en as the o’erflowing Nilus presageth famine.

IRAS.

Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay.

CHARMIAN.

Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee, tell her but workaday fortune.

SOOTHSAYER.

Your fortunes are alike.

IRAS.

But how, but how? give me particulars.

SOOTHSAYER.

I have said.

IRAS.

Am I not an inch of fortune better than she?

CHARMIAN.

Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than I, where would you choose it?

IRAS.

Not in my husband’s nose.

CHARMIAN.

Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas—come, his fortune! his fortune! O, let him marry a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee, and let her die too, and give him a worse, and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his grave, fiftyfold a cuckold! Good Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee!

IRAS.

Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! For, as it is a heartbreaking to see a handsome man loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a foul knave uncuckolded. Therefore, dear Isis, keep decorum and fortune him accordingly!

CHARMIAN.

Amen.

ALEXAS.

Lo now, if it lay in their hands to make me a cuckold, they would make themselves whores but they’d do’t!

Enter Cleopatra.

ENOBARBUS.

Hush, Here comes Antony.

CHARMIAN.

Not he, the queen.

CLEOPATRA.

Saw you my lord?

ENOBARBUS.

No, lady.

CLEOPATRA.

Was he not here?

CHARMIAN.

No, madam.

CLEOPATRA.

He was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden

A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus!

ENOBARBUS.

Madam?

CLEOPATRA.

Seek him and bring him hither. Where’s Alexas?

ALEXAS.

Here, at your service. My lord approaches.

Enter Antony with a Messenger.

CLEOPATRA.

We will not look upon him. Go with us.

[Exeunt Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, Iras, Alexas and

Soothsayer.]

MESSENGER.

Fulvia thy wife first came into the field.

ANTONY.

Against my brother Lucius.

MESSENGER.

Ay.

But soon that war had end, and the time’s state

Made friends of them, jointing their force ’gainst Caesar,

Whose better issue in the war from Italy

Upon the first encounter drave them.

ANTONY.

Well, what worst?

MESSENGER.

The nature of bad news infects the teller.

ANTONY.

When it concerns the fool or coward. On.

Things that are past are done with me. ’Tis thus:

Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death,

I hear him as he flattered.

MESSENGER.

Labienus—

This is stiff news—hath with his Parthian force

Extended Asia from Euphrates

His conquering banner shook from Syria

To Lydia and to Ionia,

Whilst—

ANTONY.

“Antony”, thou wouldst say—

MESSENGER.

O, my lord!

ANTONY.

Speak to me home; mince not the general tongue.

Name Cleopatra as she is called in Rome;

Rail thou in Fulvia’s phrase, and taunt my faults

With such full licence as both truth and malice

Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds

When our quick minds lie still, and our ills told us

Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile.

MESSENGER.

At your noble pleasure.

[Exit Messenger.]

Enter another Messenger.

ANTONY.

From Sicyon, ho, the news? Speak there!

SECOND MESSENGER.

The man from Sicyon—

ANTONY.

Is there such a one?

SECOND MESSENGER.

He stays upon your will.

ANTONY.

Let him appear.

[Exit second Messenger.]

These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,

Or lose myself in dotage.

Enter another Messenger with a letter.

What are you?

THIRD MESSENGER.

Fulvia thy wife is dead.

ANTONY.

Where died she?

THIRD MESSENGER.

In Sicyon:

Her length of sickness, with what else more serious

Importeth thee to know, this bears.

[Gives a letter.]

ANTONY.

Forbear me.

[Exit third Messenger.]

There’s a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it.

What our contempts doth often hurl from us,

We wish it ours again. The present pleasure,

By revolution lowering, does become

The opposite of itself. She’s good, being gone.

The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on.

I must from this enchanting queen break off.

Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,

My idleness doth hatch. How now, Enobarbus!

Enter Enobarbus.

ENOBARBUS.

What’s your pleasure, sir?

ANTONY.

I must with haste from hence.

ENOBARBUS.

Why then we kill all our women. We see how mortal an unkindness is to them. If they suffer our departure, death’s the word.

ANTONY.

I must be gone.

ENOBARBUS.

Under a compelling occasion, let women die. It were pity to cast them away for nothing, though, between them and a great cause they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies instantly. I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment. I do think there is mettle in death which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such a celerity in dying.

ANTONY.

She is cunning past man’s thought.

ENOBARBUS.

Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love. We cannot call her winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report. This cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as

Jove.

ANTONY.

Would I had never seen her!

ENOBARBUS.

O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of work, which not to have been blest withal would have discredited your travel.

ANTONY.

Fulvia is dead.

ENOBARBUS.

Sir?

ANTONY.

Fulvia is dead.

ENOBARBUS.

Fulvia?

ANTONY.

Dead.

ENOBARBUS.

Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth; comforting therein that when old robes are worn out, there are members to make new. If there were no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, and the case to be lamented. This grief is crowned with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new petticoat: and indeed the tears live in an onion that should water this sorrow.

ANTONY.

The business she hath broached in the state

Cannot endure my absence.

ENOBARBUS.

And the business you have broached here cannot be without you, especially that of Cleopatra’s, which wholly depends on your abode.

ANTONY.

No more light answers. Let our officers

Have notice what we purpose. I shall break

The cause of our expedience to the Queen,

And get her leave to part. For not alone

The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches,

Do strongly speak to us, but the letters too

Of many our contriving friends in Rome

Petition us at home. Sextus Pompeius

Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands

The empire of the sea. Our slippery people,

Whose love is never linked to the deserver

Till his deserts are past, begin to throw

Pompey the Great and all his dignities

Upon his son, who, high in name and power,

Higher than both in blood and life, stands up

For the main soldier; whose quality, going on,

The sides o’ th’ world may danger. Much is breeding

Which, like the courser’s hair, hath yet but life

And not a serpent’s poison. Say our pleasure

To such whose place is under us, requires

Our quick remove from hence.

ENOBARBUS.

I shall do’t.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. Alexandria. A Room in Cleopatra’s palace.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas and Iras.

CLEOPATRA.

Where is he?

CHARMIAN.

I did not see him since.

CLEOPATRA.

See where he is, who’s with him, what he does.

I did not send you. If you find him sad,

Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report

That I am sudden sick. Quick, and return.

[Exit Alexas.]

CHARMIAN.

Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly,

You do not hold the method to enforce

The like from him.

CLEOPATRA.

What should I do I do not?

CHARMIAN.

In each thing give him way; cross him in nothing.

CLEOPATRA.

Thou teachest like a fool: the way to lose him.

CHARMIAN.

Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear.

In time we hate that which we often fear.

But here comes Antony.

Enter Antony.

CLEOPATRA.

I am sick and sullen.

ANTONY.

I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose—

CLEOPATRA.

Help me away, dear Charmian! I shall fall.

It cannot be thus long; the sides of nature

Will not sustain it.

ANTONY.

Now, my dearest queen—

CLEOPATRA.

Pray you, stand farther from me.

ANTONY.

What’s the matter?

CLEOPATRA.

I know by that same eye there’s some good news.

What, says the married woman you may go?

Would she had never given you leave to come!

Let her not say ’tis I that keep you here.

I have no power upon you; hers you are.

ANTONY.

The gods best know—

CLEOPATRA.

O, never was there queen

So mightily betrayed! Yet at the first

I saw the treasons planted.

ANTONY.

Cleopatra—

CLEOPATRA.

Why should I think you can be mine and true,

Though you in swearing shake the throned gods,

Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness,

To be entangled with those mouth-made vows

Which break themselves in swearing!

ANTONY.

Most sweet queen—

CLEOPATRA.

Nay, pray you seek no colour for your going,

But bid farewell and go. When you sued staying,

Then was the time for words. No going then,

Eternity was in our lips and eyes,

Bliss in our brows’ bent; none our parts so poor

But was a race of heaven. They are so still,

Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,

Art turned the greatest liar.

ANTONY.

How now, lady!

CLEOPATRA.

I would I had thy inches, thou shouldst know

There were a heart in Egypt.

ANTONY.

Hear me, queen:

The strong necessity of time commands

Our services awhile, but my full heart

Remains in use with you. Our Italy

Shines o’er with civil swords; Sextus Pompeius

Makes his approaches to the port of Rome;

Equality of two domestic powers

Breed scrupulous faction; the hated, grown to strength,

Are newly grown to love; the condemned Pompey,

Rich in his father’s honour, creeps apace

Into the hearts of such as have not thrived

Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;

And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge

By any desperate change. My more particular,

And that which most with you should safe my going,

Is Fulvia’s death.

CLEOPATRA.

Though age from folly could not give me freedom,

It does from childishness. Can Fulvia die?

ANTONY.

She’s dead, my queen.

Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read

The garboils she awaked; at the last, best,

See when and where she died.

CLEOPATRA.

O most false love!

Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill

With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,

In Fulvia’s death how mine received shall be.

ANTONY.

Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know

The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,

As you shall give th’ advice. By the fire

That quickens Nilus’ slime, I go from hence

Thy soldier, servant, making peace or war

As thou affects.

CLEOPATRA.

Cut my lace, Charmian, come!

But let it be; I am quickly ill and well,

So Antony loves.

ANTONY.

My precious queen, forbear,

And give true evidence to his love, which stands

An honourable trial.

CLEOPATRA.

So Fulvia told me.

I prithee, turn aside and weep for her,

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.

ANTONY.

You’ll heat my blood. No more.

CLEOPATRA.

You can do better yet, but this is meetly.

ANTONY.

Now, by my sword—

CLEOPATRA.

And target. Still he mends.

But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian,

How this Herculean Roman does become

The carriage of his chafe.

ANTONY.

I’ll leave you, lady.

CLEOPATRA.

Courteous lord, one word.

Sir, you and I must part, but that’s not it;