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Home  »  The Oxford Shakespeare  »  Antony and Cleopatra

William Shakespeare (1564–1616). The Oxford Shakespeare. 1914.

Act IV. Scene II.

Antony and Cleopatra

Alexandria.A Room in the Palace.

Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and Others.

Ant.He will not fight with me, Domitius.

Eno.No.

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?

Eno.I’ll strike, and cry, ‘Take all.’

Ant.Well said; come on.

Call forth my household servants; let’s to-night

Be bounteous at our meal.

Enter three or four Servitors.

Give me thy hand,

Thou hast been rightly honest; so hast thou;

Thou; and thou, and thou: you have serv’d me well,

And kings have been your fellows.

Cleo.What means this?

Eno.[Aside to CLEOPATRA.]’Tis one of those odd tricks which sorrow shoots

Out of the mind.

Ant.And thou art honest too.

I wish I could be made so many men,

And all of you clapp’d up together in

An Antony, that I might do you service

So good as you have done.

Servants.The gods forbid!

Ant.Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night,

Scant not my cups, and make as much of me

As when mine empire was your fellow too,

And suffer’d my command.

Cleo.[Aside to ENOBARBUS.]What does he mean?

Eno.[Aside to CLEOPATRA.]To make his followers weep.

Ant.Tend me to-night;

May be it is the period of your duty:

Haply, you shall not see me more; or if,

A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow

You’ll serve another master. I look on you

As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends,

I turn you not away; but, like a master

Married to your good service, stay till death.

Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more,

And the gods yield you for ’t!

Eno.What mean you, sir,

To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep;

And I, an ass, am onion-ey’d: for shame,

Transform us not to women.

Ant.Ho, ho, ho!

Now, the witch take me, if I meant it thus!

Grace grow where those drops fall! My hearty friends,

You take me in too dolorous a sense,

For I spake to you for your comfort; did desire you

To burn this night with torches. Know, my hearts,

I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you

Where rather I’ll expect victorious life

Than death and honour. Let’s to supper, come,

And drown consideration.[Exeunt.