Ant.
Hark, the land bids me tread no more upon't,
It is asham'd to bear me. Friends, come hither,
I am so lated in the world, that I
Have lost my way for ever. I've a ship
Laden with gold, take that, divide it; flie,
And make your peace with Cæsar.

Omnes.
Fly! not we.

Ant.
I've fled my self, and have instructed cowards
To run, and shew their shoulders. Friends, be gone.
I have my self resolv'd upon a course,
Which has no need of you. Be gone,
My treasure's in the harbour. Take it—oh,
I follow'd that I blush to look upon,
My very hairs do mutiny; for the white
Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them

For fear and doating. Friends, be gone; you shall
Have letters from me to some friends, that will
Sweep your way for you. Pray you look not sad,
Nor make replies of lothness; take the hint
Which my despair proclaims. Let them be left
Which leave themselves. To the sea-side straight-way:
I will possess you of that ship and treasure.
Leave me, I pray, a little; pray you now—
Nay, do so; for indeed I've lost command,
Therefore, I pray you—I'll see you by and by. [Sits down. Enter Cleopatra, led by Charmian and Iras, to Antony.

Eros.
Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him.

Iras.
Do, most dear Queen.

Char.
Do? why, what else?

Cleo.
Let me sit down; oh Juno!

Ant.
No, no, no, no, no.

Eros.
See you here, Sir?

Ant.
Oh fie, fie, fie.

Char.
Madam.

Iras.
Madam, oh good Empress.

Eros.
Sir, Sir.

Ant.
Yes my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept
His sword e'en like a dancer, while I strook
The lean and wrinkled Cassius, and 'twas I
That the mad Brutus ended; he alone
Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practice had
In the brave squares of war; yet now—no matter—

Cleo.
Ah stand by.

Eros.
The Queen, my lord, the Queen—

Iras.
Go to him, madam, speak to him,
He is unqualited with very shame.

Cleo.
Well then, sustain me: oh!

Eros.
Most noble Sir, arise, the Queen approaches,
Her head's declin'd, and death will seize her, but
Your comfort makes the rescue.

Ant.
I have offended reputation;
A most unnoble swerving—

Eros.
Sir, the Queen.

Ant.
O whither hast thou led me, Ægypt? see
How I convey my shame out of thine eyes,
By looking back on what I've left behind
'Stroy'd in dishonour.

Cleo.
Oh, my lord, my lord;
Forgive my fearful sails; I little thought
You would have follow'd.

Ant.
Ægypt, thou knew'st too well,
My heart was to thy rudder ty'd by th' string,
And thou should'st towe me after. O'er my spirit
The full supremacy thou knew'st, and that
Thy beck, might from the bidding of the Gods
Command me.

Cleo.
Oh, my pardon.

Ant.
Now I must
To the young man send humble treaties, dodge
And palter in the shift of lowness, who
With half the bulk o'th' world play'd as I pleas'd,
Making and marring fortunes. You did know
How much you were my conqueror, and that
My sword, made weak by my affection, would
Obey it on all cause.

Cleo.
Pardon, pardon.

Ant.
Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates
All that is won and lost: give me a kiss,
Even this repays me.
We sent our schoolmaster, is he come back?

Love, I am full of lead; some wine
Within there, and our viands: fortune knows,
We scorn her most, when most she offers blows. [Exeunt.

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