Page 2414 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

CLEOPATRA

Cut my lace, Charmian, come,
But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well,
So Antony loves.

ANTONY
My precious queen, forbear,

And give true evidence to his love, which stands
An honourable trial.

CLEOPATRA
So Fulvia told me. [75]
I prithee turn aside and weep for her,
Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears

Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one scene
Of excellent dissembling, and let it look
Like perfect honour.

ANTONY
You’ll heat my blood: no more. [80]

CLEOPATRA

You can do better yet; but this is meetly.

ANTONY

Now, by my sword, −

CLEOPATRA
And target. Still he mends.
But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian,
How this Herculean Roman does become
The carriage of his chafe. [85]

ANTONY

I’ll leave you, lady.

CLEOPATRA