Ant.
Their preparation is to-day by sea;
We please them not by land.

Scar.
For both, my lord.

Ant.
I would, they'd fight i' the fire, or in the air;
We'd fight there too. But this it is; Our foot
Upon the hills adjoining to the city,
Shall stay with us: order for sea is given;
They have put forth the haven^{3 note}

Where their appointment we may best discover,
And look on their endeavour^{4 note}
. [Exeunt. Enter Cæsar, and his Forces, marching.

Cæs.
But being charg'd, we will be still by land,
Which, as I take't, we shall^{5 note}

Re-enter Antony and Scarus.

Ant.
Yet they're not join'd: Where yonder pine does stand,
I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word
Straight, how 'tis like to go. [Exit.

Scar.
Swallows have built
In Cleopatra's sails their nests: the augurers^{6 note}

Say, they know not,—they cannot tell;—look grimly,
And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony
Is valiant, and dejected; and, by starts,
His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear,
Of what he has, and has not. Alarum afar off, as at a Sea Fight. Re-enter Antony.

Ant.
All is lost;
This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me:
My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder
They cast their caps up, and carouse together
Like friends long lost.—Triple-turn'd whore^{7 note}

Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart
Makes only wars on thee.—Bid them all fly;
For when I am reveng'd upon my charm,
I have done all:—Bid them all fly, be gone. [Exit Scarus.
O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more:
Fortune and Antony part here; even here
Do we shake hands.—All come to this?—The hearts
That spaniel'd me at heels^{8 note}

Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
On blossoming Cæsar; and this pine is bark'd,
That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am:
O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm^{9 note}

Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose,
Beguil'd me^{2 note}

Enter Cleopatra.
Ah, thou spell! Avaunt.

Cleo.
Why is my lord enrag'd against his love?

Ant.
Vanish; or I shall give thee thy deserving,
And blemish Cæsar's triumph. Let him take thee,
And hoist thee up to the shouting Plebeians:
Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot
Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown
For poor'st diminutives, for doits^{4 note}

Patient Octavia plough thy visage up
With her prepared nails^{5 note}. [Exit Cleo.] 'Tis well thou'rt gone,
If it be well to live: But better 'twere
Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death
Might have prevented many.—Eros, ho!—
The shirt of Nessus is upon me: Teach me,
Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage:
Let me lodge Lichas^{6 note}

And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club,
Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die;
To the young Roman boy^{7 note} she hath sold me, and I fall
Under this plot: she dies for't.—Eros, ho! [Exit.

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