# The Complete Works of William Shakespeare ## Part 14 Book page: https://www.cyberlibrary.org/en/books/the-complete-works-of-william-shakespeare-100/index.md CAESAR. Welcome hither. Your letters did withhold our breaking forth Till we perceived both how you were wrong led And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart. Be you not troubled with the time, which drives O’er your content these strong necessities, But let determined things to destiny Hold unbewailed their way. Welcome to Rome, Nothing more dear to me. You are abused Beyond the mark of thought, and the high gods, To do you justice, make their ministers Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort, And ever welcome to us. AGRIPPA. Welcome, lady. MAECENAS. Welcome, dear madam. Each heart in Rome does love and pity you. Only th’ adulterous Antony, most large In his abominations, turns you off And gives his potent regiment to a trull That noises it against us. OCTAVIA. Is it so, sir? CAESAR. Most certain. Sister, welcome. Pray you Be ever known to patience. My dear’st sister! [_Exeunt._] SCENE VII. Antony’s Camp near the Promontory of Actium. Enter Cleopatra and Enobarbus. CLEOPATRA. I will be even with thee, doubt it not. ENOBARBUS. But why, why, why? CLEOPATRA. Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars And say’st it is not fit. ENOBARBUS. Well, is it, is it? CLEOPATRA. Is ’t not denounced against us? Why should not we Be there in person? ENOBARBUS. Well, I could reply: If we should serve with horse and mares together, The horse were merely lost. The mares would bear A soldier and his horse. CLEOPATRA. What is’t you say? ENOBARBUS. Your presence needs must puzzle Antony, Take from his heart, take from his brain, from ’s time, What should not then be spared. He is already Traduced for levity, and ’tis said in Rome That Photinus, an eunuch, and your maids Manage this war. CLEOPATRA. Sink Rome, and their tongues rot That speak against us! A charge we bear i’ th’ war, And, as the president of my kingdom, will Appear there for a man. Speak not against it. I will not stay behind. Enter Antony and Canidius. ENOBARBUS. Nay, I have done. Here comes the Emperor. ANTONY. Is it not strange, Canidius, That from Tarentum and Brundusium He could so quickly cut the Ionian sea And take in Toryne?—You have heard on ’t, sweet? CLEOPATRA. Celerity is never more admired Than by the negligent. ANTONY. A good rebuke, Which might have well becomed the best of men To taunt at slackness.—Canidius, we Will fight with him by sea. CLEOPATRA. By sea, what else? CANIDIUS. Why will my lord do so? ANTONY. For that he dares us to ’t. ENOBARBUS. So hath my lord dared him to single fight. CANIDIUS. Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia, Where Caesar fought with Pompey. But these offers, Which serve not for his vantage, he shakes off, And so should you. ENOBARBUS. Your ships are not well manned, Your mariners are muleteers, reapers, people Engrossed by swift impress. In Caesar’s fleet Are those that often have ’gainst Pompey fought. Their ships are yare, yours heavy. No disgrace Shall fall you for refusing him at sea, Being prepared for land. ANTONY. By sea, by sea. ENOBARBUS. Most worthy sir, you therein throw away The absolute soldiership you have by land; Distract your army, which doth most consist Of war-marked footmen; leave unexecuted Your own renowned knowledge; quite forgo The way which promises assurance; and Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard From firm security. ANTONY. I’ll fight at sea. CLEOPATRA. I have sixty sails, Caesar none better. ANTONY. Our overplus of shipping will we burn, And with the rest full-manned, from th’ head of Actium Beat th’ approaching Caesar. But if we fail, We then can do ’t at land. Enter a Messenger. Thy business? MESSENGER. The news is true, my lord; he is descried. Caesar has taken Toryne. ANTONY. Can he be there in person? ’Tis impossible; Strange that his power should be. Canidius, Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land, And our twelve thousand horse. We’ll to our ship. Away, my Thetis! Enter a Soldier. How now, worthy soldier? SOLDIER. O noble emperor, do not fight by sea. Trust not to rotten planks. Do you misdoubt This sword and these my wounds? Let th’ Egyptians And the Phoenicians go a-ducking. We Have used to conquer standing on the earth And fighting foot to foot. ANTONY. Well, well, away. [_Exeunt Antony, Cleopatra and Enobarbus._] SOLDIER. By Hercules, I think I am i’ th’ right. CANIDIUS. Soldier, thou art. But his whole action grows Not in the power on ’t. So our leader’s led, And we are women’s men. SOLDIER. You keep by land The legions and the horse whole, do you not? CANIDIUS. Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius, Publicola, and Caelius are for sea, But we keep whole by land. This speed of Caesar’s Carries beyond belief. SOLDIER. While he was yet in Rome, His power went out in such distractions as Beguiled all spies. CANIDIUS. Who’s his lieutenant, hear you? SOLDIER. They say one Taurus. CANIDIUS. Well I know the man. Enter a Messenger. MESSENGER. The Emperor calls Canidius. CANIDIUS. With news the time’s with labour, and throes forth Each minute some. [_Exeunt._] SCENE VIII. A plain near Actium. Enter Caesar with his army and Taurus marching. CAESAR. Taurus! TAURUS. My lord? CAESAR. Strike not by land; keep whole; provoke not battle Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed The prescript of this scroll. Our fortune lies Upon this jump. [_Exeunt._] SCENE IX. Another part of the Plain. Enter Antony and Enobarbus. ANTONY. Set we our squadrons on yon side o’ th’ hill In eye of Caesar’s battle, from which place We may the number of the ships behold And so proceed accordingly. [_Exeunt._] SCENE X. Another part of the Plain. Canidius marching with his land army one way over the stage, and Taurus, the Lieutenant of Caesar, with his Army, the other way. After their going in, is heard the noise of a sea fight. Alarum. Enter Enobarbus. ENOBARBUS. Naught, naught, all naught! I can behold no longer. Th’ Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral, With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder. To see ’t mine eyes are blasted. Enter Scarus. SCARUS. Gods and goddesses, All the whole synod of them! ENOBARBUS. What’s thy passion? SCARUS. The greater cantle of the world is lost With very ignorance. We have kissed away Kingdoms and provinces. ENOBARBUS. How appears the fight? SCARUS. On our side, like the tokened pestilence, Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt, Whom leprosy o’ertake, i’ th’ midst o’ th’ fight, When vantage like a pair of twins appeared, Both as the same—or, rather, ours the elder— The breeze upon her, like a cow in June, Hoists sails and flies. ENOBARBUS. That I beheld. Mine eyes did sicken at the sight and could not Endure a further view. SCARUS. She once being loofed, The noble ruin of her magic, Antony, Claps on his sea-wing and, like a doting mallard, Leaving the fight in height, flies after her. I never saw an action of such shame. Experience, manhood, honour, ne’er before Did violate so itself. ENOBARBUS. Alack, alack! Enter Canidius. CANIDIUS. Our fortune on the sea is out of breath And sinks most lamentably. Had our general Been what he knew himself, it had gone well. O, he has given example for our flight Most grossly by his own! ENOBARBUS. Ay, are you thereabouts? Why, then, good night indeed. CANIDIUS. Toward Peloponnesus are they fled. SCARUS. ’Tis easy to’t, and there I will attend What further comes. CANIDIUS. To Caesar will I render My legions and my horse. Six kings already Show me the way of yielding. ENOBARBUS. I’ll yet follow The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason Sits in the wind against me. [_Exeunt._] SCENE XI. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. Enter Antony with attendants. ANTONY. Hark, the land bids me tread no more upon’t. It is ashamed to bear me. Friends, come hither. I am so lated in the world that I Have lost my way for ever. I have a ship Laden with gold. Take that, divide it. Fly, And make your peace with Caesar. ALL. Fly? Not we. ANTONY. I have fled myself, and have instructed cowards To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone. I have myself resolved upon a course Which has no need of you. Be gone. My treasure’s in the harbour. Take it. O, I followed 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 doting. 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 loathness. Take the hint Which my despair proclaims. Let that be left Which leaves itself. To the sea-side straightway. I will possess you of that ship and treasure. Leave me, I pray, a little—pray you, now, Nay, do so; for indeed I have lost command. Therefore I pray you. I’ll see you by and by. [_Sits down._] Enter Cleopatra led by Charmian, Iras and Eros. EROS. Nay, gentle madam, to him! Comfort him. IRAS. Do, most dear queen. CHARMIAN. Do! Why, what else? CLEOPATRA. Let me sit down. O Juno! ANTONY. No, no, no, no, no. EROS. See you here, sir? ANTONY. O, fie, fie, fie! CHARMIAN. Madam. IRAS. Madam, O good empress! EROS. Sir, sir! ANTONY. Yes, my lord, yes. He at Philippi kept His sword e’en like a dancer, while I struck 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. CLEOPATRA. Ah, stand by. EROS. The Queen, my lord, the Queen! IRAS. Go to him, madam; speak to him. He is unqualitied with very shame. CLEOPATRA. Well then, sustain me. O! EROS. Most noble sir, arise. The Queen approaches. Her head’s declined, and death will seize her but Your comfort makes the rescue. ANTONY. I have offended reputation, A most unnoble swerving. EROS. Sir, the Queen. ANTONY. O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See How I convey my shame out of thine eyes By looking back what I have left behind ’Stroyed in dishonour. CLEOPATRA. O my lord, my lord, Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought You would have followed. ANTONY. Egypt, thou knew’st too well My heart was to thy rudder tied by th’ strings, And thou shouldst tow me after. O’er my spirit Thy full supremacy thou knew’st, and that Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods Command me. CLEOPATRA. O, my pardon! ANTONY. Now I must To the young man send humble treaties, dodge And palter in the shifts of lowness, who With half the bulk o’ th’ world played as I pleased, 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. CLEOPATRA. Pardon, pardon! ANTONY. 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._] SCENE XII. Caesar’s camp in Egypt. Enter Caesar, Agrippa, Dolabella with others. CAESAR. Let him appear that’s come from Antony. Know you him? DOLABELLA. Caesar, ’tis his schoolmaster— An argument that he is plucked, when hither He sends so poor a pinion of his wing, Which had superfluous kings for messengers Not many moons gone by. Enter Ambassador from Anthony. CAESAR. Approach, and speak. AMBASSADOR. Such as I am, I come from Antony. I was of late as petty to his ends As is the morn-dew on the myrtle leaf To his grand sea. CAESAR. Be’t so. Declare thine office. AMBASSADOR. Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and Requires to live in Egypt, which not granted, He lessens his requests, and to thee sues To let him breathe between the heavens and earth, A private man in Athens. This for him. Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness, Submits her to thy might, and of thee craves The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs, Now hazarded to thy grace. CAESAR. For Antony, I have no ears to his request. The queen Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend, Or take his life there. This if she perform, She shall not sue unheard. So to them both. AMBASSADOR. Fortune pursue thee! CAESAR. Bring him through the bands. [_Exit Ambassador, attended._] [_To Thidias_.] To try thy eloquence now ’tis time. Dispatch. From Antony win Cleopatra. Promise, And in our name, what she requires; add more, From thine invention, offers. Women are not In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure The ne’er-touch’d vestal. Try thy cunning, Thidias; Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we Will answer as a law. THIDIAS. Caesar, I go. CAESAR. Observe how Antony becomes his flaw, And what thou think’st his very action speaks In every power that moves. THIDIAS. Caesar, I shall. [_Exeunt._] SCENE XIII. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. Enter Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian and Iras. CLEOPATRA. What shall we do, Enobarbus? ENOBARBUS. Think, and die. CLEOPATRA. Is Antony or we in fault for this? ENOBARBUS. 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, When half to half the world opposed, he being The mered question. ’Twas a shame no less Than was his loss, to course your flying flags And leave his navy gazing. CLEOPATRA. Prithee, peace. Enter the Ambassador with Antony. ANTONY. Is that his answer? AMBASSADOR. Ay, my lord. ANTONY. The Queen shall then have courtesy, so she Will yield us up. AMBASSADOR. He says so. ANTONY. Let her know’t.— To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head, And he will fill thy wishes to the brim With principalities. CLEOPATRA. That head, my lord? ANTONY. 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, Ourselves alone. I’ll write it. Follow me. [_Exeunt Antony and Ambassador._] ENOBARBUS. Yes, like enough high-battled Caesar will Unstate his happiness, and be staged to th’ show Against a sworder! I see men’s judgments 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 judgment too. Enter a Servant. SERVANT. A messenger from Caesar. CLEOPATRA. What, no more ceremony? See, my women, Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneeled unto the buds. Admit him, sir. [_Exit Servant._] ENOBARBUS. [_Aside_.] 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. Enter Thidias. CLEOPATRA. Caesar’s will? THIDIAS. Hear it apart. CLEOPATRA. None but friends. Say boldly. THIDIAS. So haply are they friends to Antony. ENOBARBUS. 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. THIDIAS. So.— Thus then, thou most renowned: Caesar entreats Not to consider in what case thou stand’st Further than he is Caesar. CLEOPATRA. Go on; right royal. THIDIAS. He knows that you embrace not Antony As you did love, but as you feared him. CLEOPATRA. O! THIDIAS. The scars upon your honour, therefore, he Does pity as constrained blemishes, Not as deserved. CLEOPATRA. He is a god and knows What is most right. Mine honour was not yielded, But conquered merely. ENOBARBUS. [_Aside_.] 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. [_Exit Enobarbus._] THIDIAS. 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. CLEOPATRA. What’s your name? THIDIAS. My name is Thidias. CLEOPATRA. Most kind messenger, Say to great Caesar this in deputation: I kiss his conqu’ring hand. Tell him I am prompt To lay my crown at’s feet, and there to kneel. Tell him, from his all-obeying breath I hear The doom of Egypt. THIDIAS. ’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. CLEOPATRA. 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. ANTONY. Favours, by Jove that thunders! What art thou, fellow? THIDIAS. One that but performs The bidding of the fullest man and worthiest To have command obeyed. ENOBARBUS. [_Aside_.] You will be whipped. ANTONY. Approach there.—Ah, you kite!—Now, gods and devils, Authority melts from me. Of late when I cried “Ho!” Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth And cry “Your will?” Have you no ears? I am Antony yet. Enter Servants. Take hence this jack and whip him. ENOBARBUS. ’Tis better playing with a lion’s whelp Than with an old one dying. ANTONY. 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. THIDIAS. Mark Antony— ANTONY. Tug him away. Being whipp’d, Bring him again. This jack of Caesar’s shall Bear us an errand to him. [_Exeunt Servants with Thidias._] 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? CLEOPATRA. Good my lord— ANTONY. You have been a boggler ever. But when we in our viciousness grow hard— O misery on’t!—the wise gods seal our eyes, In our own filth drop our clear judgments, make us Adore our errors, laugh at’s while we strut To our confusion. CLEOPATRA. O, is’t come to this? ANTONY. I found you as a morsel cold upon Dead Caesar’s trencher; nay, you were a fragment Of Gneius Pompey’s, besides what hotter hours, Unregistered in vulgar fame, you have Luxuriously pick’d out. For I am sure, Though you can guess what temperance should be, You know not what it is. CLEOPATRA. Wherefore is this? ANTONY. 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? SERVANT. Soundly, my lord. ANTONY. Cried he? And begged he pardon? SERVANT. He did ask favour. ANTONY. 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. [_Exit Thidias._] CLEOPATRA. Have you done yet? ANTONY. Alack, our terrene moon is now eclipsed, And it portends alone the fall of Antony. CLEOPATRA. I must stay his time. ANTONY. To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes With one that ties his points? CLEOPATRA. Not know me yet? ANTONY. Cold-hearted toward me? CLEOPATRA. 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! ANTONY. 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, threat’ning 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. CLEOPATRA. That’s my brave lord! ANTONY. 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. CLEOPATRA. It is my birthday. I had thought t’have held it poor, but since my lord Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra. ANTONY. We will yet do well. CLEOPATRA. Call all his noble captains to my lord. ANTONY. 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._] 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. [_Exit._] ACT IV SCENE I. Caesar’s Camp at Alexandria. Enter Caesar, Agrippa, and Maecenas, with his army. Caesar reading a letter. CAESAR. He calls me boy, and chides as he had power To beat me out of Egypt. My messenger He hath whipped with rods; dares me to personal combat, Caesar to Antony. Let the old ruffian know I have many other ways to die; meantime Laugh at his challenge. MAECENAS. Caesar must think, When one so great begins to rage, he’s hunted Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now Make boot of his distraction. Never anger Made good guard for itself. CAESAR. Let our best heads Know that tomorrow the last of many battles We mean to fight. Within our files there are, Of those that served Mark Antony but late, Enough to fetch him in. See it done, And feast the army; we have store to do’t, And they have earned the waste. Poor Antony! [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. Enter Antony, Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, Iras, Alexas with others. ANTONY. He will not fight with me, Domitius? ENOBARBUS. No. ANTONY. Why should he not? ENOBARBUS. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, He is twenty men to one. ANTONY. Tomorrow, soldier, By sea and land I’ll fight. Or I will live, Or bathe my dying honour in the blood Shall make it live again. Woo’t thou fight well? ENOBARBUS. I’ll strike, and cry “Take all.” ANTONY. Well said. Come on. Call forth my household servants. Let’s tonight Be bounteous at our meal.— Enter Servants.