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

Dio.
—For both, my lord.

Ant.
I would, they'd fight i'the fire, or i'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: Hie we on,
Where their appointment we may best discover,
And look on their endeavour. [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; for his best force
Is forth to man his gallies. To the vales,
And hold our best advantage. [Exeunt. Re-enter Antony, and Diomede.

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.

Dio.
—Swallows have built
In Cleopatra's sails their nests: the augurers
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. [Shouts afar off. Re-enter Antony, hastily.

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 carowse together
Like friends long lost.—Triple-turn'd whore! 'tis thou
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 Diomede.
O sun, thy up-rise 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, to whom I gave
Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
On blossoming Cæsar; and this pine is bark'd,
That over-top'd them all. Betray'd I am:
(O this false soil of Egypt!) This grave charm,—
Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home;
Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,—
Like a true gipsy, hath, at fast and loose,
Beguil'd me to the very heart of loss.— Enter Cleopatra.
What, Eros! Eros!—Ah, thou spell! Avant.

Cle.
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 plébeians:
Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot
Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shewn
For poor'st diminutives, for doits; and let
Patient Octavia plough thy visage up
With her prepared nails.[Exit Cle.] '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 on the horns o'the moon;
And with those hands that grasp'd the heaviest club
Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die;
To the Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall
Under this plot: she dies for't.—Eros, ho! [Exit.

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