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Not what he knew I was: He makes me angry;
My speech, and what is done; tell him, he has
Ant. Alack, our terrene moon
Is now eclips'd; and it portends alone
Cleo. I must stay his time.
Ant. To flatter Cæsar, would you mingle eyes
With one that ties his points?
Cleo. Not know me yet?
Ant. Cold-hearted toward me?
Cleo. Ah, dear, if I be so,
From my cold heart let heaven engender hail,
Ant. I am satisfied.
Cæsar sits down in Alexandria; where
I will oppose his fate. Our force by land
Hath nobly held; our fever'd 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;
Cleo. That's my brave lord!
Ant. I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breath'd,
Cleo. It is my birth-day:
I had thought, to have held it poor; but, since my lord Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.
Ant. We'll yet do well.
Cleo. Call all his noble captains to my lord.
Ant. Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force
The wine peep through their scars.-Come on, my
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 ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, and Attendants. Eno. Now he'll out-stare the lightning. To be furious,
Is, to be frighted out of fear and in that mood,
Restores his heart: When valour preys on reason,
SCENE I.-CESAR'S Camp at Alexandria.
Enter CESAR, reading a Letter; AGRIPPA, MECENAS, and others.
Cas. He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power To beat me out of Egypt: my messenger
He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal com
Cæsar to Antony: Let the old ruffian know,
Mec. Cæsar must think,
When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted
Cas. Let our best heads
Know that to-morrow the last of many battles
SCENE II.-Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.
Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and others.
Ant. He will not fight with me, Domitius.
Ant. Why should he not?
Eno. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,
He is twenty men to one.
Ant. To-morrow, 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?
Ant. Well said; come on.
Call forth my household servants; let's to-night
Be bounteous at our meal.-Give me thy hand,
And thou, and thou,-and thou:-you have serv'd
And kings have been your fellows.
Cleo. What means this?
Eno. Tis one of those odd tricks, which sorrow
Out of the mind.
Ant. And thou art honest too.
I wish, I could be made so many men;