All language subtitles for Antony.and.Cleopatra.1972

[ Fanfare ]

Enobarbus.

How now, friend Eros?

Where is Marc Antony?

He's walking in the garden.

There's hard news come with this.

He will desire you presently.

I'll bring you to him.

If it be love indeed,

tell me how much.

There's beggary in the love
that can be reckon'd.

I'll set a bourn
how far to be belov'd.

Then must thou needs find out
new heaven, new earth.

Nay, but this dotage of our general's
o'erflows the measure:

his captain's heart which
in the scuffles of great fights

hath burst the buckles
on his breast,

reneges all temper,

and is become the bellows
and the fan to cool a gipsy's lust.

You shall see in him,

the triple pillar of the world
transform'd into a strumpet's fool.

LAUGHTER

News, my good lord,
from Rome.

What news from Rome?

Let Rome in Tiber melt and the wide
arch of the rang'd empire fall!

Here is my space.

Kingdoms are clay.

Our dungy earth alike
feeds beasts as man.

The nobleness of life is to do thus.

Speak not to us.

Is Caesar with Marc Antony
prized so slight?

Sir, sometimes
when he is not Antony

he comes too short
of that great quality

which still should go with Antony.

Alexas,

sweet Alexas,

where's the soothsayer
that you prais'd so to the Queen?

Soothsayer!

Is this the man?

Is't you, sir,
that know things?

In nature's infinite book of secrecy,

a little I can read.

Show him your hand.

Good sir,
give me good fortune.

I make not, but foresee.

Pray then, foresee me one.

You shall be yet
far fairer than you are.

He means in flesh.

Nay, hear him!

Good now,
some excellent fortune!

Let me be married

to three kings in a forenoon
and widow them all.

Let me have a child at fifty,
then marry me with Octavius Caesar

and companion me with my mistress.

You shall outlive
the lady whom you serve.

Excellent.

I love long life better than figs.

You have seen and prov'd
a fairer former fortune

than that which is to come.

Out, fool!

I forgive thee for a witch.

Then?

Fulvia your wife
first came into the field.

Against my brother Lucius?

And then they joined
their forces against Caesar,

who soon from Italy drove them.

Well, what worst?

The nature of bad news
infects the teller.

When it concerns the fool or coward.

On things that are past
are done with me.

'Tis thus who tells me true,
though in his tale lie death,

I hear him as he flatter'd.

Labienus-- this is stiff news--

hath with his Parthian force
extended Asia:

from Euphrates
his conquering banner shook

from Syria to Lydia and to Ionia.

Whilst...

Antony, you would say.

- My lord.
- Speak to me home.

Mince not the general tongue.

Name Cleopatra
as she is call'd in Rome.

Taunt me with Fulvia's phrase!

From Sicyon how's the news?

Sir,

the lady Fulvia, your wife...

is dead.

- Where died she?
- In Sicyon.

Fare thee well awhile.

There's a great spirit gone.

Thus did I desire it.

What our contempt
doth often hurl from us,

we wish it ours again.

She's good being gone.

I must from this enchanting
queen break off.

I lose myself in dotage.

Enobarbus!

What's your pleasure, sir?

I must with haste from hence.

Why, then we kill all our women.

We see how mortal
an unkindness is to them.

If they suffer our departure,
death's the word.

I must be gone.

Under a compelling occasion,
let women die.

It were pity
to cast them away for nothing,

though between them
and a great cause,

they should be esteemed nothing.

Cleopatra, catching but
the least noise of this,

dies instantly.

I have seen her die twenty times
upon far poorer moment.

I do think death commits
some loving act upon her,

she hath such a celerity in dying.

She is cunning past man's thought.

Alack, sir, no,

her passions are made of nothing
but pure love.

We cannot call her winds and waters
sighs and tears;

they are greater storms and tempests
than almanacs can report.

Would I had never seen her.

O, sir, you had then left unseen
a wonderful piece of work.

Fulvia is dead.

Sir?

My wife is dead.

Fulvia?

Dead.

Why, sir,

give the gods
a thankful sacrifice.

If there were
no more women but Fulvia,

then had you indeed a cut,
and the case to be lamented.

This grief is crown'd
with consolation.

The business she has broach'd
with this in Rome

cannot endure my absence.

And the business
you have broach'd here

cannot be without you,

especially that of Cleopatra's,

which wholly depends
on your presence.

No more light answers.

For not alone the death of Fulvia,

but letters too from Rome
petition us at home.

Much is breeding.

Sextus Pompeius has given
the dare to Caesar

and commands the empire of the sea.

The side o' the world's in danger.

Let our officers have notice
of our purpose.

Now you see, Lepidus.

From Alexandria this is the news.

He fishes, drinks

and wastes
the lamps of night in revel.

Hardly gave audience
or stop to think he had partners.

You shall find there

a man who is the sum
of all men's faults.

Nobla Octavius!

His faults in him
seem as the stars in heaven.

More fiery by night's blackness.

Hereditary rather than purchas'd
what he cannot change

than what he chooses.

You are too indulgent.

Let's grant it is not amiss
to roll in Cleopatra's bed.

To give a kingdom for a mirth,

to sit and keep the turn
of tippling with a slave,

to reel the streets at noon

and stand with knaves
that smell of sweat.

Say this becomes him,

as his composure must be rare indeed
whom these things cannot blemish.

Yet,

must this in no way
excuse his foils

when we do bear
so great weight in his lightness.

Here's more news.

Your biddings have been done,
most noble Caesar.

Pompey is strong at sea,

and it appears he is belov'd of those
that only have fear'd Caesar.

I should have known no less.

No vessel can peep forth,

but 'tis as soon taken as seen!

Pompey's name strikes more
than could his war resisted.

Antony,

leave your lascivious wassails.

When he once was beaten
from Modena,

at his heels did famine follow.

He did drink the stale of horses

and the gilded puddle
that beasts would cough at.

And all this was borne still
like a soldier

with patience more
than savages could suffer.

'Tis pity of him.

Let his shames
quickly drive him to Rome.

'Tis time we both did show
ourselves I' the field.

Pompey thrives in our idleness.

Tomorrow, Caesar,
I shall be able to inform you rightly

both what by sea and land...

Till which encounter,
it is my business too.

Farewell.

Farewell, my lord!

If the great gods be just,

they shall assist
the deeds of justest men.

No, worthy Pompey,
they'll not deny you.

I shall do well.

The people love me,

and the sea is mine;

My powers are crescent.

Mark Antony in Egypt sits at dinner,

and will make no wars outdoors.

Caesar gets money
where he loses hearts.

Lepidus flatters both,

But neither cares for him.

Caesar and Lepidus are in the field.

A mighty strength they carry.

Here have you this?
'Tis false.

- From Silvius, sir.
- He dreams.

I know they are in Rome together
looking for Antony.

But all the charms of love

tie up the libertine
in a field of feasts.

Keep his brain fuming.

- Let Cleopatra sharpen his appetite.
- MAN: Pompey!

[ Man shouts ]

Pompey!

How now, Varrius?

This is most certain, sir!

Mark Antony is every hour
in Rome expected.

Menas, I did not think
this amorous lecher

would have donn'd
his helm for such a petty war.

His soldiership
is twice the other twain.

So our stirring can from the lap
of Egypt's widow

pluck the ne'er-lust-wearied Antony.

I cannot think Caesar and Antony
shall well agree together.

His wife that's dead
did trespasses to Caesar.

His brother warr'd upon him.

I know not, Menas.

Were't not that we stand up
against them all,

'twere plain they'd draw
their swords between themselves.

[ Fanfare ]

Good Enobarbus,

entreat your captain
to soft and gentle speech.

I shall entreat him
to answer like himself.

If Caesar move him,

let Antony look over Caesar's head,
and speak as loud as Mars.

Your speech is passion.

But, pray you,
stir no embers up.

Welcome to Rome.

Thank you.

Sit.

Sit, sir.

Nay, then.

I learn you take things ill
which are not so,

or, being, concern you not.

I must be laugh'd at
if but for nothing or a little,

I should say myself offended,

and with you chiefly I' the world

when to sound your name
it not concern'd me.

My being in Egypt, Caesar,
what was't to you?

No more than my residing here
at Rome

might be to you in Egypt.

Your wife and brother
made wars upon me.

And you were the word of war.

[ Scoffs ]

You do mistake your business.

My brother made his wars
alike against us both.

Of this, my letters before
did satisfy you.

If you'll patch a quarrel,
it must not be with this.

You patch'd up your excuses.

Not so, not so.

I'm your partner in this cause.

You have broken
the article of your oath

Soft, Caesar.

Which you shall never have tongue
to charge me with.

- Caesar.
- ANTONY: No, Lepidus. Let him speak.

The honour is sacred
which he talks on now,

supposing that I lack'd it.

On Caesar,

the article of my oath.

To lend me arms and aid
when I requir'd them,

to which you both denied.

Neglected, rather.

Truth is my wife to have me out
of Egypt made these wars here.

For which,
I do herewith ask pardon,

Nobly spoken.

If it might please you,

enforce no further
the griefs between ye.

Forget them quiet.

For't cannot be
we shall remain in friendship.

Yet, if I knew what bond
would hold us staunch

from edge to edge o' the world,

I would pursue it.

Give me leave, Caesar.

Speak, Agrippa.

You have a sister
by the mother's side,

admir'd Octavia.

Great Marc Antony is now a widower.

Say not so, Agrippa.

If Cleopatra heard you,

your reproof were
well deserv'd of rashness.

I'm not married, Caesar.

Let me hear Agrippa further speak.

To hold you in perpetual amity,

to make you brothers

and to knit your hearts
with an unslipping knot

take Antony Octavia to his wife.

Her beauty claims no less a husband
than the best of men.

Her virtue and her general graces
speak that which none else can utter.

By this marriage,

all little jealousies
which now seem great

would then be nothing.

Will Caesar speak?

Not till he hears
how Antony is touch'd

with what is spoke already.

What power is in Agrippa,

if I would say "Agrippa, be it so,"
to make this good?

The power of Caesar.

From this hour,

the hearts of brothers
govern in our loves,

and sway our great designs.

Let me have your hand.

There's my hand.

A sister I bequeath you whom
no brother did ever love so dearly.

Let her live to join our kingdoms
and our hearts

and never fly off our loves again.

Happily, amen.

I did not think to draw
my sword 'gainst Pompey,

for he's laid great courtesies
of late upon me.

Time calls upon's.

Of us must Pompey presently
be sought,

or else he seeks out us.

Where lies he?

About the Mount Misena.

What is his strength?

By land? Great and increasing;

but by sea he is an absolute master.

Would we had spoke together!

Haste we for it.

Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms,

let's finish the business
we have spoke of.

With most gladness,

and do invite you to my sister's view,

whither straight I'll lead you.

Good, Enobarbus.
Welcome from Egypt, sir.

Honorable Agrippa.

If beauty, wisdom, modesty

can settle the heart of Antony,

Octavia is a blessed lottery to him.

Charmian!

Madam?

Give me to drink mandragora.

Why, madam?

That I may sleep out this great gap
of time my Antony is away.

You think of him too much.

O, 'tis treason!

Madam, I trust not so.

You, Eunuch Mardian.

What's your Highness' pleasure?

Not now to hear you sing.

I take no pleasure
in what an eunuch has.

Have you affections?

Yes, gracious madam.

Indeed?

Not in deed,
for I can do nothing.

Yet have I fierce affections

and think what Venus did with Mars.

O, Charmian.

Where think you he is now?

Stands he, or sits he?

Or does he walk?

Or is he on his horse?

O happy horse,
to bear the weight of Antony.

Do bravely, horse,

for know you whom you move?

The demi-Atlas of this earth.

So we shall...

So we shall talk before we fight?

Most meet that first
we come to words.

So let us know if you'll tie up
your discontented sword

and carry back to Sicily
much tall youth

that else must perish here.

To you all three,

the senators alone
of this great world,

chief factors for the gods.

This it is has made me rig my navy.

I mean to scourge the ingratitude

that despiteful Rome
cast on my noble father.

Be pleas'd to tell us--

for this is from the present--

how you
take the offers we have sent you.

There's the point.

You have made me offer
of Sicily, Sardinia.

And I must rid the sea of pirates.

Then to send measures
of wheat to Rome.

This 'greed upon to part
with unhack'd swords.

That's our offer.

Know, then,

I came before you here
a man prepar'd to take this offer.

But Mark Antony has put me
to some impatience!

Though I lose the praise of it
by telling,

when Caesar and your brother
were at war,

your mother came to Sicily
and did find her welcome friendly.

I have heard it, Pompey.

And am well studied for a liberal
thanks which I do owe you.

Let me have your hand.

I've never thought, sir,
to have met you here.

The beds I' the east are soft,

but thanks to you who call'd me sooner
than my purpose here,

-for I have gain'd by it.
- Well met here.

I hope so, Lepidus.

Thus we are agreed.

We'll feast each other ere we part,

and let's draw lots who shall begin.

But, first or last, your fine Egyptian
cookery shall have the fame.

I have heard that Julius Caesar
grew fat with feasting there.

You have heard much, sir.

I have fair meanings, sir.

And I have heard
Apollodorus carried-

What, I pray you?

A certain queen to Caesar
in a mattress.

I know you!
How goes it, soldier?

I never hated you.

I have seen you fight
when I have envied your behavior.

Sir, I never lov'd you much,
but I have prais'd you.

Aboard my galley, I invite you all.

Will you come, lords?

We came hither to fight with you.

For my part, I am sorry
it is turned to a drinking.

Pompey does this day
laugh away his fortune.

If he do, sure he cannot
weep't back again.

Y'have said, sir.

We looked not
for Mark Antony here.

Pray you,
is he married to Cleopatra?

Caesar's sister is called Octavia.

True sir, she was the wife
of Caius Marcellus.

But she is now the wife
of Marcus Antonius.

Pray ye, sir?

'Tis true.

Then is Caesar and he
for ever knit together.

I would not prophesy so.

Octavia is of a holy,

cold and still conversation.

Who would not have his wife so?

Not Mark Antony.

He will to his Egyptian dish again.

And thus it may be.

Come, sir.

Will you aboard?

[ Laughter and cheering ]

Thus do they, sir.

They take the flow o' the Nile
by certain scales I' the pyramid...

What manner o' thing
is your crocodile?

A toast to Lepidus!

- Lepidus.
- Lepidus.

Pompey, a word.

Well, say in mine ear,
what is't?

Forsake your seat,
I do beseech you captain,

and hear me speak a word.

Forbear me till anon.

Here's to Caesar.

I could well forbear't.

Go hang, sir, hang.

Away.

[ Laughter ]

If for the sake of merit
you will hear me,

rise from your couch.

I think you're mad.

[ Laughter and cheering ]

Will you be lord
of all the world?

What say you?

Will you be lord
of the whole world?

That's twice.

Show me which way.

These three world-sharers,

these competitors,

are in your vessel.

Let me cut the cable.

And when we are put off,

fall to their throats.

All there is yours.

Ah, this you should have done
and not have spoken.

In me 'tis villainy;

in you 't had been good service.

Being done unknown,

I should have found it
afterwards well done.

But must condemn it now.

Desist and drink.

I'll pledge it for him, Pompey.

Bear him away!

Ha, my brave emperor.

We shall dance now
your Egyptian Bacchanal.

Let's have it then, good soldier.

Good Antony, the Emperor!

Queen Cleopatra!

[ Laughter ]

[ Laughter ]

[ Laughs ]

[ Cheering ]

[ Laughter ]

What, would you more?

Good brother, let's ashore.

I'll try you on shore.

Good night.

Come, sir.
Give us your hand.

Oh, Antony, we are friends.

Come down into the boat.

Take heed you fall not!

Lapidus!
[ Laughter ]

Farewell to these great fellows.

[ Gurgling ]
Lapidus.

Sound and be hang'd.

[ Blows horn ]

Noble captain, come!

[ Laughter ]

Give me some music.

The music.

Music,

moody food of us
that trade in love.

Let it alone,

let's to billiards,
come, Charmian.

My arm is sore,
best play with Mardian.

As well a woman with an eunuch play'd,
as with a woman.

Come, you'll play with me,
sir?

As well as I can, madam.

I'll none now.

We'll to the river.

There, my music playing far off

I will betray tawny-finned fishes.

And as I draw them up
I'll think them every one an Antony,

and say: "Aha! Y'are caught."

'Twas merry when you wager'd
on your angling;

when your diver did place
a salt fish on his hook,

which he with fervency drew up.

That time?

O times!

O from Italy!

Madam, madam--

Antony dead?

If you say so, villain,
you kill your mistress.

But well and free, if so thou
yield him, there is gold.

First, madam, he is well.

Why, there's more gold.

But, sirrah, mark,

we use to say the dead are well.

Bring it to that,
the gold I give thee will I melt

and pour down thy ill-uttering throat.

Good Madam, hear me.

Well, go to,

I will.

But there's no goodness in thy face!

Will't please you hear me?

I have a mind to strike thee
ere thou speak'st.

Yet if thou say Antony lives,

is well,

or friends with Caesar
and not captive to him--

Madam, he's well.

Well said!

And friends with Caesar.

Th' art an honest man.

Caesar and he are greater
friends than ever.

Make thee a fortune from me.

But yet, madam...

I do not like "but yet...

Prithee, friend,

Pour out the pack of matter
to mine ear,

the good and bad together.

He's friends with Caesar,

in state of health, thou say'st,
and, thou say'st, free.

Free, madam, no.
I made no such report.

He's bound unto Octavia.

For what good turn?

For the best turn I' the bed.

Madam,

he's married to Octavia.

The most infectious
pestilence upon thee!

Good madam, patience!

What say you?
Hence, horrible villain,

I'll unhair thy head!

Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire
and stew'd in brine!

Gracious madam,

I that do bring the news
made not the match.

Say 'tis not so,

a province I will give thee
and make thy fortunes proud.

He's married, madam.

Rogue,

thou hast liv'd too long!

Good madam,

keep yourself within yourself.

The man is innocent.

Some innocents 'scape not
the thunderbolt.

Melt Egypt into Nile,

and kindly creatures
turn all to serpents!

Call the slave again.

Though I am mad,
I will not bite him.

Call!

He is afeard to come.

I will not hurt him.

These hands do lack nobility

that they strike a meaner than myself.

Come hither, sir.

Though it be honest,

it is never good to bring bad news.

Is he married?

I cannot hate thee worser than I do,

if thou again say "yes."

He's married, madam.

The gods confound thee!

Dost thou hold there still?

Madam, should I lie?

O, I would thou didst,

So half my Egypt were submerg'd

and made a cistern for scal'd snakes!

- Get thee hence.
- I crave your highness' pardon.

He's married?

Madam...

he's married to Octavia.

Get thee gone.

The merchandise
which thou hast brought from Rome

is all too dear for me.

[ Sobs ]

O, Iras.

Charmian.

'Tis no matter.

Go to the fellow, good Alexas.

Bid him report the feature
of Octavia,

her years,

let him not leave out
the colour of her hair.

Bring me word quickly.

Let him forever go.

Let him not.

Mardian, go tell Alexas.

Bring me word how tall she is.

Madam.

In praising Antony,

I have dispraised Caesar.

Many times, madam.

I am paid for 't now.

You take from me
a great part of myself.

Use me well in 't.

Sister,

prove such a wife
as my thoughts make you.

The Jove of power make me,

most weak,
your reconciler.

Wars 'twixt you twain would be
as if the world should cleave.

Antony.

Far better might we two
have lov'd without this mean,

if by us both she be not cherish'd.

Make me not offended
in your distrust.

I have said.

So.

Well, are the brothers parted?

They have dispatch'd with Pompey;
he is gone.

We are for Athens.

Octavia weeps to part from Rome.

Caesar is sad,

and Lepidus,
since Pompey's feast,

is troubled
with the green-sickness.

No further, sir.

So the gods keep you,

and make the hearts of Romans
serve your ends.

Farewell, my dearest sister,
fare you well.

The elements be kind to you.

My noble brother.

[ Chuckles ]

The April's in her eyes.

It is love's spring,
and these the showers to bring it on.

No, sweet Octavia,
you shall hear from me still.

[ Panting ]

Be cheerful!

Come, sir, come,

I'll wrestle with you
in my strength of love.

Look, here I have you,

thus I let you go,
and give you to the gods.

Adieu.

Be happy.

Let all the number of the stars
give light to thy fair way.

Farewell.

Farewell.

Farewell.

Where is the fellow?

Half afeard to come.

Go to, go to.

[ Snaps fingers ]

Come hither, sir.

Come you near.

Most gracious majesty.

Did you behold Octavia?

Ay, dread queen.

Where?

Madam, in Rome.

I look'd her in the face

and saw her led between her brother
and Mark Antony.

Is she as tall as me?

She is not, madam.

Didst hear her speak?
Is she shrill-tongu'd or low?

Madam, I heard her speak.

She is low-voic'd.

That's not so good.

He cannot like her long.

Like her?
O Isis, 'tis impossible!

I think so, Charmian.

Dull of tongue,
and dwarfish.

What majesty is in her gait?

Remember,
if e'er you looked on majesty.

She creeps.

- Is this certain?
- Or I have no observance.

Three in Egypt
cannot make better note.

He's very knowing.
I do perceive 't.

There's nothing in her yet.

The fellow has good judgment.

Excellent.

Guess at her years, I prithee.

Madam,

she was a widow.

[ Laughs ]

Widow? Charmian, hark.

I do think she's thirty.

Bear'st thou her face in mind?

Is 't long or round?

Round even to faultiness.

For the most part, too,
they are foolish that are so.

Her hair what colour?

Blond-- brown, madam.

And her forehead
as low as she would wish it.

There's gold for thee.

Thou must not take
my former sharpness ill.

I will employ thee back again.

I find thee most fit for business.

Go, make thee ready.
Our letters are prepar'd.

A proper man.

Indeed he is so.

Why, methinks, by him,
this creature's nothing.

Nothing, madam.

The man hath seen some majesty,
and should know.

Hath he seen majesty?

Isis else defend,
and serving you so long.

All may be well enough.

The world and my great office

will sometimes divide me
from your bosom.

All which time before the gods

my knee shall bow my prayers
to them for you.

My Octavia,

read not my blemishes
in the world's report.

I have not kept my square, but...

that to come
shall all be done by the rule.

Good night, sir.

Good night, dear lady.

CLEOPATRA:
When you sued staying,

then was the time for words.

No going then.

Eternity was in our lips and eyes,

bliss in our brows' bent.

[ Antony and Cleopatra laughing ]

SOOTHSAYER:
And marry many times.

Now, sirrah,
you do wish yourself in Egypt?

Would I had never come
from thence...

nor you.

Hie you to Egypt again.

Say to me whose fortunes
shall rise higher,

Caesar's or mine?

Caesar's.

Antony, stay not by his side.

Thy spirit is high, unmatchable,
where Caesar's is not.

But near him, thy angel
becomes afeard, o'erpower'd,

therefore make space enough
between you.

Speak this no more.

To none but thee;

no more but when to thee.

If thou dost play with him
at any game,

thou art sure to lose;

and of that natural luck
he beats thee 'gainst the odds.

I say...

thy spirit is all afraid
to govern thee near him;

but he away...

'tis noble.

Get thee gone!

Say to Ventidius
I would speak with him.

He has spoken true,

the very dice obey him,

and in our sports my better cunning
fails under his chance.

Ventidius!

If I lose mine honour,
I lose myself.

Sir.

You must to Parthia!
Your commission's ready.

My purposes do draw me much about.
You'll win two days upon me.

Sir, good success.

Though I make this marriage
for my peace,

in the East my pleasure lies.

You stayed well by it in Egypt.

Ay, sir, we did.

Eight wild boars roasted whole
at breakfast

and but twelve persons there?

We had much more.

The rare Egyptian.

She's a most triumphant lady,

if report be square to her.

When she first met Mark Antony,

she pursed up his heart.

Upon the river Cydnus?

There she appeared in triumph.

I'll tell you.

The barge she sat in,

[ Ethereal music ]

Like a burnish'd throne,

burn'd on the water:

the poop was beaten gold;

purple the sails,

and so perfumed that the winds
were love-sick with them,

and the oars were silver,

which to the tune of flutes
kept stroke,

and made the water which they beat
to follow faster,

as amorous of their strokes.

For her own person,

it beggar'd all description:

she did lie in her pavilion,

cloth of gold, of tissue,

o'er-picturing that Venus

where we see
the fancy outwork nature.

On each side her
stood pretty dimpled boys,

like smiling Cupids,

with divers-colour'd fans,

whose wind did seem to glow

the delicate cheeks
which they did cool,

and what they undid did.

O, rare for Antony.

Her gentlewomen,
like the Nereides,

so many mermaids,

tended her I' the eyes,
and made their bends adorings.

At the helm
a seeming mermaid steers:

the silken tackle swell

with the touches
of those flower-soft hands,

that yarely frame the office.

From the barge
a strange invisible perfume

hits the sense
of the adjacent wharfs.

The city cast her people out
upon her;

and Antony,
enthron'd i' the market-place,

did sit alone,

whistling to the air;

which, but for vacancy,
had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,

and left a gap in nature.

O, royal wench.

She made great Caesar
lay his sword to bed.

Now Antony must leave her utterly.

Never.

He will not!

Age cannot wither her,

nor custom stale
her infinite variety.

Other women cloy
the appetites they feed,

but she makes hungry
where most she satisfies.

For vilest things
become themselves in her,

that the holy priests bless her
when she is wanton.

[ Metal clangs ]

[ Dog barks ]

[ Dramatic music ]

Lord of lords.

Com'st thou smiling from
the world's great snare uncaught?

O thou day o' the world.

Leap thou to my heart.

Octavia!

Octavia.

That ever I should
call thee a castaway.

You have not call'd me so,

nor have you cause.

Caesar's sister:

the wife of Antony
is come a market-maid to Rome.

- Good, my Lord.
- My dearest sister,

the adulterous Antony
has turned you off.

Do not say so, my lord.

I have eyes upon him,

and his affairs come to me
on the wind.

Where is he now, my lord?

In Athens?

No, my most wronged sister.

Cleopatra has nodded him to her.

In contempt of Rome
he's done all this and more.

In Alexandria in the market-place,

Cleopatra and himself
in chairs of gold

were publicly enthron'd.

Unto her he gave
the stablishment of Egypt,

made her absolute Queen.

This in the public eye?

I' the common show-place,
where they exercise.

- Let Rome be thus inform'd.
- The people know it.

And have now receiv'd
his accusations.

Who does he accuse?

Caesar.

For having Pompey slain in Sicily.

We had not given him his share.

Then does he say,
he lend me shipping unrestor'd.

Lastly, he frets that Lepidus
should be depose'd,

and being
that we detain all his revenue.

Sir, this should be answer'd.

'Tis done already
and the messenger gone.

I have told him:
for what I have conquer'd,

I grant him part;
but in his conquer'd kingdoms,

I demand the like.

He'll never yield to that.

Nor must not then
be yielded to in this.

He has given his empire up
to a whore.

Now, world,

you have a pair of wolves no more.

And throw between them
all the food you have,

the one will tear the other.

[ Dramatic music ]

I will be even with thee,
doubt it not.

Why?

Why?

You're against my being
in these wars.

You say it is not fit.

Well, is it?

- Is it?
- Is't not denounc'd against us?

Why should not we
be there in person?

Your presence needs
must puzzle Antony,

Take from his heart,
take from his brain,

from's time,
what should not then be spar'd.

'Tis said in Rome
that Mardian,

the eunuch, and your maids
manage this war.

Sink Rome, and their tongues rot
that speak against us!

A charge we bear in the war,

and as the ruler of my kingdom
will appear there for a man.

Speak not against it,
I will not stay behind.

Nay, I have done.

Here comes the emperor.

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?

Celerity is never more admir'd
than by the negligent.

A good rebuke, which might have
well become the best of men,

to taunt at slackness.

Canidius, we will fight
with him by sea.

By sea, what else?

Why will my lord do so?

For that he dares us to't.

So had my lord dar'd him
to single fight.

Aye,

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.

Your ships are not well mann'd,

your mariners are teamsters.

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 prepar'd for land.

By sea, by sea.

Most worthy sir, you therein
throw away the absolute soldiership

you have by land.

Distract your army
of war-mark'd footmen;

quite forego
your own renowned knowledge,

and give yourself to chance.

I'll fight at sea.

I have sixty sails,
Caesar none better.

If we should fail,
we then can do't on land.

Canidius, our nineteen legions
you shall hold by land,

and our twelve thousand horse.

We'll to our ship.

How now, soldier?

Emperor, do not fight by sea.

Trust not to rotten planks.

Do you misdoubt this sword?

Let the Egyptians and the Phoenicians
go a-ducking;

we have us'd to conquer
standing on the earth,

and fighting foot to foot.

Well, well, away.

By Hercules,

I think I am I' the right.

Soldier, thou art.

But our leader's led,

and we are women's men.

Agrippa.

My lord?

Strike not by land,

keep whole,

provoke not battle,
till we have done at sea.

Do not exceed
the prescript of this scroll.

[ Chuckles ]

Our fortune lies upon this jump.

MAN:
Heave to.

Hold.

[ Cannons fire ]
[ Cannonballs whistle ]

[ Shouts ]

Fire!

[ Screams ]

[ Shouting ]

They've boarded us!

[ Roaring ]

Retire!
We have engag'd ourselves too far!

The Egyptian queen flies!

Attach the rudder!

Retire.

Retire!

[ Screaming ]

Naught.

Naught.

All naught.

Do not fight by sea.

Our fortune on the sea
is out of breath!

Gods and goddesses.

The greater part of the world is lost.

We have kiss'd away
kingdoms and provinces.

How appears the fight?

On our side
like the token'd pestilence,

where death is sure.

That ribald hag of Egypt--

whom leprosy o'er take--
I' the midst o' the fight,

the breeze upon her,

like a cow in June,

hoists sails and flies.

That I beheld.
And sickened at the sight.

The noble Antony

claps on his sea wings

and like a doting mallard

leaving the fight in height

flies after her!

I never saw an action
of such shame!

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
of our flight,

most grossly, by his own!

Ay, are you thereabouts?

Why, then, good night indeed.

To Caesar will I render
my legions and my horse.

Six kings already
show me the way of yielding.

I'll yet follow
the wounded chance of Antony,

though my reason sits
in the wind against me.

The land bids me tread
no more upon't.

It is asham'd to bear me.

I've lost my way for ever.

Leave me.

Fly.

And make your peace with Caesar.

Fly? Not I.

Be gone!

No, no.

See you here, sir?

Gods, gods, gods.

- Madam.
- Madam.

Good empress.

Sir.

Sir, the queen.

[ Scoffs ]

I have offended reputation.

- [ Grunts ]
- My lord.

Whiter hast thou lead me,
Egypt?

My lord, forgive my fearful sails.

I little thought
you would have follow'd.

Egypt,

thou knew'st too well

my heart was to thy rudder
tied by the strings,

and thou shouldst tow me after.

Thou knew'st.

Thy call might from the bidding
of the gods command me.

O, my pardon.

Now I must to the young man
send humble treaties,

dodge and palter
in the shifts of lowness,

who with half the bulk o' the 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.

O, my pardon.

Pardon.

Fall not a tear, I say.

One of them rates all
that is won and lost:

Come, give me a kiss.

Even this repays me.

Love, I am full of lead.

Some wine here, Eros!

Fortune knows we scorn her most

when most she offers blows.

Let him appear
that's come from Antony.

Know you him?

Caesar, 'tis his schoolmaster.

An argument that he is pluck'd,

when hither he sends
so poor a pinion of his wing.

He had superfluous kings
for messengers,

not many moons gone by.

Approach and speak.

Such as I am,

I... 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.

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.

For Antony,
I have no ears to his requests.

The queen of audience
nor desire shall fail,

so she from Egypt drive
her all-disgrac'd friend,

or take his life there.

So to them both.

Thidias.

Thidias!

Thidias!

Thidias, now 'tis time, dispatch.

From Antony win Cleopatra,

promise, and in our name,
what she requires; add more,

as thine invention offers.

Women are not
in their best fortunes strong;

but want will perjure
the ne'er touch'd virgin:

try thy cunning, Thidias.

What shall we do, Enobarbus?

Think and die.

Is Antony or we at fault in this?

Antony only.

That would make his will
lord of his reason.

What though you fled
from that great face of war,

why should he follow?

The itch of his affection

should not then
have nick'd his captainship;

at such a point,

when half to half the world oppos'd,

he being the sole question.

'Twas a shame no less
than was his loss,

to course your flying flags,

and leave his navy gazing.

- Prithee, peace.
- Is that his answer?

Ay, my lord.

The queen shall then have courtesy,
so she will yield us up.

He says so.

Let her know't.

To the boy Caesar
send this grizzled head,

and he will fill thy wishes
to the brim,

with principalities.

That head, my lord?

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' the command of Caesar.

I dare him therefore
to lay his gay comparisons apart,

and answer me declin'd,

sword against sword,
ourselves alone.

I'll write it. Follow me.

Yes...

like enough.

High-battled Caesar
will unstate his happiness,

and be stag'd to the show,
against a swordsman.

Caesar...

you have subdued
his judgment too.

CHARMIAN:
Madam.

A messenger from Caesar.

What, no more ceremony?

See, my Charmian?

Against the blown rose
may they stop their nose

that kneel'd unto the bud.

Admit him, then.

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 fall'n lord

does conquer him
that did his master conquer.

Caesar's will?

Hear it apart.

None but friends.
Say boldly.

So haply are they friends to Antony.

He needs as many, sir,
as Caesar has or needs not us.

So.

Thus then,
thou most renown'd,

Caesar entreats not to consider
in what case thou stand'st,

further than he is Caesar.

Go on, right royal.

He knows that you embrac'd
not Antony, as you did love,

but as you fear'd him.

Oh.

The scars upon your honour,
therefore, he does pity,

as constrain'd blemishes,

not as deserv'd.

He is a god,

and knows what is most right.

Mine honour was not yielded, but...

conquer'd merely.

To be sure of that,
I will ask Antony.

Shall I say to Caesar
what you require of him?

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 shrowd,

the universal landlord.

What's your name?

My name...

is Thidias.

Most kind messenger,

say to great Caesar this
in deputation:

I kiss his conquering 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.

'Tis your noblest course.

Give me grace to lay
my duty on your hand.

Your Caesar's father oft,

when he hath mus'd
of taking kingdoms in,

bestow'd his lips
on that unworthy place.

Approach there.

What are you, fellow?

One that but performs
the bidding of the fullest man,

and worthiest
to have command obey'd.

You will be whipp'd.

You dog!

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.

Take hence this Jack,
and whip him.

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.

- Mark Antony!
- Take him away!

- Mark Antony!
- Being whipp'd, bring him again.

This Jack of Caesar's
shall bear us an errand to him.

You were half blasted
ere I knew you.

Have I my pillow
left unpress'd in Rome,

to be abus'd by one
that plays with jackals?

- Good my lord.
- You have been a boggler ever.

I found you as a morsel,

cold upon dead Caesar's trencher;

nay, you were a fragment
of Gnaeus Pompey's;

besides what hotter hours,
unregister'd in vulgar fame,

-you have luxuriously pick'd out.
- Wherefore is this?

To let a fellow
that will take rewards,

and say "God quit you!"
be familiar with my playfellow,

your hand!

Is he whipp'd?

Soundly, my lord.

Cried he?
And begg'd a pardon?

He did ask favour.

If that your father live,

let him repent
you were not made his daughter,

and be you sorry
to follow Caesar in his triumph,

since you have been whipp'd for it.

Henceforth the white hand
of a lady fever you,

shake you to look on 't.

Get you back to Caesar,

tell him your entertainment:

look, you 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 the abysm of hell.

Be gone!

Have you done yet?

To flatter Caesar,

would you mingle eyes with that?

Cold-hearted toward me?

Oh, dear, if I be so,

from my cold heart
let heaven engender hail.

Let the first stone
dissolve my life.

Together with my brave Egyptians.

All, lie graveless,

till the flies and gnats of Nile
have buried them for prey!

I am satisfied.

Caesar comes near to Alexandria,

where I will oppose his fate.

Our force by land has nobly held,

our shatter'd navy too
has knit again,

and sails,
threatening 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:

we'll beat them to their beds!

What, girl,

though grey do something mingle
with our younger brown,

yet can we still get goal
for goal of youth.

There's hope in't yet.

That's my brave lord.

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.

We will yet do well.

Come on, my queen.

There's sap in't yet.

The next time I do fight,
I'll make death love me.

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 falcon;

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 must seek some way to leave him.

He calls me boy, and chides,

as he had power
to beat me out of Egypt.

He dares me to personal combat,

Caesar to Antony.

Let the old ruffian know
I have many other ways to die.

When one so great begins to rage,

he's hunted even to falling.

Give him no breath.

Let our best heads know,

that tomorrow the last
of many battles we mean to fight.

Within our files there are,

of those that serv'd
Mark Antony but late,

enough to fetch him in.

See it done,
and feast the army.

There's food to do't,
and they have earn'd the waste.

Poor Antony.

Enobarbus?

Sir?

He will not fight with me,
old friend.

Why should he not?

He is twenty men to one.

Tomorrow, soldier,
we'll fight by land.

I'll live,

or bathe my dying honour in the blood
shall make it live again.

Will you fight well?

I'll strike,

and cry "Take all...

Well said.

Come,
give me your hand.

You have been rightly honest;

so you have,
you have serv'd me well,

and kings have been your fellows.

What you mean, sir?

To make your followers weep?

Good friend, good night.

Tomorrow is the day.

[ Fanfare ]

[ Men shout ]

[ Men shout ]

[ Men shout ]

'Tis well blown, lads.

You that will fight,
follow me close,

I'll bring you to't.

Call for Enobarbus.

Sir,

he shall not hear me.

What say you?

He is with Caesar.

Sir,

his chests and treasure
he has not with him.

Is he gone?

Most certain.

Go, Eros,

send his treasure after,

do it;
Detain no jot,

I charge you:

write to him--
I will subscribe--

gentle adieus and greetings;

Say I wish he never find more cause
to change a master.

Dispatch.

My fortunes have corrupted
honest men.

Enobarbus...

He goes forth gallantly.

That he and Caesar might determine
this great war in single fight.

Then Antony.

But now...

Go forth, Agrippa,
and begin the fight:

Our will is Antony be took alive.

Make it so known.

Caesar, I shall.

The time of universal peace is near.

Prove this a prosperous day,

the three-nook'd world
shall bear the olive freely.

Mark Antony I serv'd.

He was my master.

If it please you to take me to you,

as I was to him,

so I'll be to you.

Enobarbus,

Antony has after you
sent all your treasure.

The messenger is
at our tents e'en now,

unloading of his mules.

I give it you.
Mock not, Enobarbus,

I tell you true.

ENOBARBUS: I am alone,
the villain of the earth.

Tomorrow, soldier,
we'll fight by land.

O, Antony,

I fight against you?

You have been rightly honest.

No.

You've serv'd me well.

I will go seek some ditch,
where in to die.

[ Mournful music ]

Forgive me in thine own particular.

But let the world
rank me in register...

a master-leaver and a fugitive.

Antony.

Antony!

[ Chuckles ]

O, this is fought indeed.

They're beaten, sir!

I would they'ld fight
I' the fire or I' the air,

we'd fight there too.

Look, emperor!
They fall upon us there!

Ready then. Prepare.

Be quick, Scarus.

[ Dramatic music ]

See Antony be took alive!

Antony be took alive!

[ Shouting ]

[ Horn blows ]

That foul Egyptian has betrayed me!

They've yielded!

Hold!

Shoot!

Shoot!

[ Shouting ]

[ Horn blows ]

[ Dramatic music ]

[ Screams ]

AGRIPPA: Antony!

Yield, Mark Antony!

The day is ours!

[ Shouts ]

That foul Egyptian
has betrayed me!

Triple turned whore!

'Tis thou hast sold me
to this novice!

[ Groans ]

O Cleopatra!

My heart makes only wars on thee!

Ah, thou spell is come to this?

The hearts that spaniel'd me at heel,

to whom I gave their wishes,

melt on blossoming Caesar.

Bid them all fly!

Why is my lord enraged?

I'll give thee thy deserving.

Follow Caesar's chariot.

Let him hoist thee up!

Help me, my women!
Help me!

Madam. Madam.

[ Shouts ]

[ Antony shouting ]

O, he's mad.

To the Roman boy she has sold me
and I fall under her plot!

She dies for it!

He's mad.

To the monument.

To the monument.

There lock yourself
and send him word you are dead.

Mardian...

go tell him I have slain myself.

Say that the last I
spoke was "Antony...

O, this false soul of Egypt.

This grave charm,

whose eye beck'd forth my wars,

and call'd them home;

whose bosom was my crownet,

my chief end.

Like a right gipsy,

that at fast and loose,

beguil'd me
to the very heart of loss.

What, Eros.

Eros!

ANTONY: Sometimes we see a cloud
that's dragonish.

A vapour sometimes
like a bear, or lion,

a tower'd citadel,

a pendent rock,

a forked mountain,

or blue promontory
with trees upon't,

that nod unto the world,

and mock our eyes with air.

You have seen these signs?

Ay, my lord.

They are black vesper's pageants.

My lord.

That which is now a horse,

even with a thought
the wind dissolves,

and leaves it indistinct,

as water is in water.

It does, my lord.

Eros, your captain
is even such a body.

Here I am, Antony, yet..

Cannot hold
this visible shape,

my knave.

I made these wars for Egypt
and the queen,

whose heart I thought I had,

for she had mine.

O, your vile lady.

She has robb'd me of my sword.

No, Antony.

She has betray'd me.

She shall die.

Death of one person
can be paid but once.

What you would do is done.

The last she spoke was "Antony...

Your name is buried in her.

Dead then?

Dead.

Unarm, Eros.

The long day's task is done
and we must sleep.

That you depart here safe
does pay your labour richly.

Go!

Off. Put off!

The seven-fold shield of Ajax
cannot keep the battery from my heart.

Apace, Eros, apace.

No more a soldier.

Stay awhile.

I will o'er take thee, Cleopatra,

and weep for my pardon.

So it must be,

for now all life is torture:
since the torch is out,

lie down,
and stray no further.

All is done.

Eros.

I come, my queen.

Eros!

Stay for me,

where souls do couch on flowers,

we'll hand in hand,

and with our sprightly sport
make the ghosts gaze:

Dido and her Aeneas
shall want troops,

and all the haunt be ours.

Come, Eros!

Eros.

What would my lord?

Since Cleopatra died,
I have liv'd in such dishonour,

that the gods detest my baseness.

I,

that with my sword
quarter'd the world,

and o'er green Neptune's back
with ships made cities,

to condemn myself
to lack the courage of a woman.

You are sworn, Eros,
that when the time should come,

which now is come indeed,

on my command,
you then would kill me.

Do it.

The time is come.

You strike not me,

'tis Caesar you defeat.

Put colour in your cheeks.

The gods withhold me.

Eros,

would you be taken
to great Rome

and see your master thus
with bound arms,

bending his neck,

before the wheel'd seat
of fortunate Caesar?

- I would not see't.
- Come then,

for with a wound I must be cur'd.

Now draw this sword.

O, sir, pardon me.

When I did set you free,

did you not swear
to do this when I bade you?

Do it at once,
or your precedent services

are all but accidents unpurpos'd.

Draw, and come.

Turn from me then
that noble countenance.

So...

Eros.

My captain,

my dear master,

let me say before I strike,

farewell.

'Tis said, man.

Farewell.

Farewell,

great chief.

Shall I strike now?

Now, Eros.

Why, there then.

Thus do I escape the sorrow
of Antony's death.

You teach me, valiant Eros,

what I should, and you could not.

But I will be
a bridegroom in my death,

and run into't as to a lover's bed.

Come, then;

and, Eros,

your master dies your scholar:

to do thus I learnt of you.

[ Grunts ]

[ Wheezes ]

Not dead?

Not dead yet?

Not dead yet.

SOOTHSAYER:
Thy fortune bids thy followers fly.

[ Sighs ]

Are you there, then?

Take my sword...

and give me death.

Most absolute lord,

Cleopatra sent me to thee.

When did she send you?

Now, my lord.

Where is she?

Lock'd in her monument.

She had a prophecy
of what hath come to pass,

and fearing since how it might work
hath sent me to proclaim the truth,

but I am come too late.

Too late.

Your star is fallen, sir.

You may not live.

Alas...

Nay, good fellow,

do not please sharp fate
to grace it with your sorrow.

We welcome that
which comes to punish us,

and bear it lightly.

You have my thanks for all.

O Charmian,

I will never go from hence.

Be comforted, dear madam.

I will not.

[ Thud ]

[ Thud ]

[ Thud ]

[ Thud ]

[ Thud ]

Antony.

[ Thud ]

[ Thud ]

[ Thud ]

[ Thud ]

[ Thud ]

[ Thud ]

O Antony.

Antony. Antony.

I am dying, Egypt,

dying;

only I here importune death awhile,

until of many thousand kisses
the poor last I lay upon thy lips.

Dear my lord, pardon.

I dare not come down,

least I be taken.

I am safe.

Help me, my women!

Come.

We must--

And welcome, welcome.

Die where thou hast liv'd.

Quicken with kissing.

Had my lips that power,
thus would I wear them out.

I am dying, Egypt.

Give me some wine,

and let me speak a little.

Of Caesar seek your honour,

with your safety.

They do not go together.

Gentle, hear me.

None about Caesar trust
but Proculeius.

My resolution,
and my hands I'll trust.

None about Caesar.

This miserable change now at my end
lament nor sorrow at;

but please your thoughts

with those my former fortunes

wherein I liv'd,
the greatest prince o' the world,

the noblest;

and do now not basely die,

not cowardly put off my helmet
to my countryman.

No one but Antony
did conquer Antony.

Noblest of men,

woo't die?

Hast thou no care of me?

Shall I abide in this dull world,

which in thy absence
is no better than a sty?

See, my women!

The crown o' the earth doth melt.

My lord?

O, wither'd is the garland
of the war,

the soldier's pole is fall'n:

[ Charmian and Iras crying ]

Young boys and girls
are level now with men;

the odds is gone,

and there is nothing left remarkable
beneath the visiting moon.

Lady.

Madam.

Peace, peace, Iras.

No more,
but e'en a woman,

and commanded by such poor passion

as the maid that milks
and does the meanest chores.

It were for me to throw my scepter
at the injurious gods,

to tell them this world
did equal theirs

till they had stolen our jewel.

[ Crying ]

Ah, women, women, look.

Our lamp is spent, it's out.

Wherefore is that?

What are you?

- What you say?
- I say, O Caesar,

Antony is dead.

The breaking of so great a thing
would make a greater crack.

The round world would have shook
lions into civil streets,

and citizens to their dens.

He is dead, Caesar.

By that same hand that writ
his honour in the acts it did.

This is his sword.

Behold his blood.

Look you sad, friends.

The gods rebuke me,

but it is tidings
to wash the eyes of kings.

Caesar is touch'd.

When such a spacious mirror
is set before him,

he needs must see himself.

O Antony.

I have follow'd thee to this.

We could not stall together
in the whole world.

Whence are you?

A poor Egyptian yet.

Queen Cleopatra,
confin'd in all she has,

her monument,

of thy intents desires instructions.

She soon shall know.

Proculeius.

My desolation does begin
to make a better life.

'Tis paltry to be Caesar.

Not being Fortune,
he's but Fortune's knave.

MAN: Cleopatra!

Caesar sends greetings
to the Queen of Egypt!

He bids you study
on what fair demands

you mean to have him grant you.

If your master would have
a queen his beggar,

you must tell him
I beg a kingdom.

This I'll report, dear lady.

Have comfort.

For I know your plight is pitied
of him that caus'd it.

Hold, worthy lady, hold!

Do not yourself such wrong

who are in this reliev'd
but not betray'd.

Come!

Where are thou death?

Come hither,
and take a queen!

Temperance, lady.

Sir, I will eat no meat,

I'll not drink, sir,
I'll not sleep neither.

This mortal house I'll ruin
do Caesar what he can.

To Caesar I shall speak
what you will please.

Say I would die.

Most noble empress,

you have heard of me.

I cannot tell.

Assuredly, you know me.

What's your name?

My name is Proculeius.

Antony did tell me of you.

Bade me trust you.

I do not greatly care.

I have no use for trusting.

Madam.

No matter, sir,

what I have heard or known.

I dreamt there was
an Emperor Antony.

O such another sleep

that I might see
but such another man.

If it might please you-

His face was as the heavens;

and therein stuck a sun and moon,

that kept their course
and lighted the little O,

the earth.

Most sovereign creature-

His legs bestrid the ocean,

his rear'd arm crested the world,

his voice was propertied
as all the tuned spheres,

and that to friends.

But when he meant to quail
and shake the orb,

he was as rattling thunder.

For his bounty,

there was no winter in't;

an autumn 'twas
that grew the more by reaping.

In his livery
walk'd crowns and crownets,

realms and islands were
as plates dropp'd from his pocket.

Cleopatra.

Think you there was,

or might be,
such a man as this I dreamt of?

Gentle madam, no.

You lie up to the hearing
of the gods!

Hear me, good madam.

Your loss is as yourself great.

I thank you, sir.

Know you what Caesar
means to do with me?

I am loath to tell you
what I would you knew.

Nay, pray you, sir.

Though he be honourable...

He'll lead me then in triumph?

Madam, he will. I know't.

[ Fanfare ]

It is the Emperor, madam.

Which is the Queen of Egypt?

Arise, you shall not kneel.

I pray you rise,

rise, Egypt.

Sir, the gods will have it thus,

my master and my lord
I must obey.

Take to you no hard thoughts.

What injuries you did us,

we remember as things
but done by chance.

Sole sir o' the world.

Cleopatra,

know that if you apply yourself
to our intents,

which towards you are most gentle,

you shall find
a benefit in this change,

but if you take Antony's course,

you shall bereave yourself
of my good purposes.

I'll take my leave.

And may through all the world
'tis yours,

and we,
your signs of conquest,

shall hang in what place you please.

No, dear queen.

Our care and pity
is so much upon you,

that we remain your friend.

And so, adieu.

My master and my lord.

Not so, adieu.

He words me, girls,

he words me,

that I should not
be noble to myself.

What think you?

You, an Egyptian puppet,
will be shown in Rome,

as well as I.

Mechanic slaves with greasy aprons
shall uplift us to the view.

- Good lady.
- It is most certain.

Quick comedians will stage
our Alexandrian revels.

Antony shall be brought
drunken forth,

and I shall see
some squeaking Cleopatra

boy my greatness
I' the posture of a whore.

I'll never see't,

for, I am sure,

my nails are stronger
than mine eyes.

Why, that's the way.

Finish, good lady.

The bright day is done

and we are for the dark.

Now, Charmian.

Show me my women like a queen.

Go fetch my best attires.

I am again for Cydnus,
to meet Mark Antony.

Good Iras, go,

and when thou hast done this chore

I'll give thee leave
to play till doomsday.

Bring our crown and all!

You bring me liberty.

My resolution's placed.

Now the fleeting moon
no planet is of mine.

Hast thou the pretty worm
of Nilus there,

that kills and pains not?

Truly,

I have him.

His biting is immortal.

Remembere'st thou
any that have died on't?

Very many,

men and women too.

Indeed,

there is no goodness
in the worm.

Take thou no care.

It shall be heeded.

Get thee gone.

Yes, forsooth.

Farewell.

I wish you all joy of the worm.

Give me my robe,

put on my crown,

I have immortal longings in me.

Now no more the juice
of Egypt's grape
shall moist this lip.

Methinks I hear Antony call.

I see him rouse himself
to praise my noble act.

I hear him mock
the luck of Caesar,

which the gods give men
to excuse their after wrath.

Husband,

I come.

I am fire and air;

my other elements
I give to baser life.

So,

have you done?

Come then.

Kind Charmian.

Madam.

Iras.

Iras.

Dost thou lie still?

Thou tell'st the world
it is not worth leave-taking.

[ Hissing ]

Come, thou mortal wretch.

With thy sharp teeth this knot
intrinsicate of life at once untie.

Couldst thou speak

that I might hear thee call
great Caesar ass, unpolicied.

O, eastern star.

Peace, peace.

Dost thou not see
my baby at my breast?

O break.

[ Gasps ]

Break!

That sucks the nurse asleep?

As soft as air,

as sweet as balm,

as gentle...

O Antony.

Antony.

What? Should I stay?

In this vile world?

Now, boast thee death.

In thy possession lies
a lass unparallel'd.

Thy crown's awry.

I'll mend it...

and then play.

Where is the queen?

Speak softly,

wake her not.

Caesar hath sent...

Too slow a messenger.

Dispatch.

What work is this, Charmian?

Is this well done?

It is well done
and fitting for a princess.

Soldier.

Sir, you are too sure
an augurer.

That you did fear is done.

Bravest at the last,

she levell'd at our purpose
and being royal took her own way.

She looks like sleep...

as she would catch another Antony
in her strong toil of grace.

Take up her bed.

She shall be buried by her Antony.

No grave upon the earth
shall clip in it a pair so famous.

[ Dramatic music ]