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 riband-red 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 breese 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 luffed,

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 Camidius

CAMIDIUS

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!

CAMIDIUS

Toward Peloponnesus are they fled.

SCARUS

’Tis easy to’t, and there I will attend

What further comes.

CAMIDIUS

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 severally⌉

3.11 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.

ATTENDANTS

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 seaside 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.

Exeunt attendants

He 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!

She sits down

ANTONY No, no, no, no, no.

EROS (to Antony) 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 (⌈rising,⌉ to Charmian and Iras) Ah, stand by.

EROS The Queen, my lord, the Queen.

IRAS Go to him, madam.

Speak to him. He’s 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 ⌈rising⌉

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