William Shakespeare (1564–1616). The Oxford Shakespeare. 1914.
Act III. Scene IX.Antony and Cleopatra
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 have a ship
Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly,
And make your peace with Cæsar.
Att.Fly! not we.
Ant.I have fled myself, and have instructed cowards
To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone;
I have myself resolv’d upon a course
Which has no need of you; be gone:
My treasure’s in the harbour, take it. O!
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 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.
Eros.Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him.
Iras.Do, most dear queen.
Char.Do! Why, what else?
Cleo.Let me sit down. O Juno!
Ant.No, no, no, no, no.
Eros.See you here, sir?
Ant.O fie, fie, fie!
Char.Madam!
Iras.Madam; O good empress!
Eros.Sir, sir!
Ant.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.
Cleo.Ah! stand by.
Eros.The queen, my lord, the queen.
Iras.Go to him, madam, speak to him;
He is unqualitied with very shame.
Cleo.Well then, sustain me: O!
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, Egypt? See,
How I convey my shame out of thine eyes
By looking back what I have left behind
’Stroy’d in dishonour.
Cleo.O my lord, my lord!