Page 2509 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

That’s my brave lord!

ANTONY
I will be treble-sinew’d, hearted, breath’d,
And fight maliciously: for when mine hours
Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives [180]
Of me for jests: but now, I’ll set my teeth,

And send to darkness all that stop me. Come,
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.

CLEOPATRA

It is my birth-day, [185]
I had thought t’ have held it poor. But since my lord
Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.

ANTONY
We will yet do well.

CLEOPATRA
Call all his noble captains to my lord.

ANTONY
Do so, we’ll speak to them, and to-night I’ll force [190]

The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen,
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 all but Enobarbus.)

ENOBARBUS
Now he’ll outstare the lightning; to be furious [195]
Is to be frighted out of fear, and in that mood
The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still,

A diminution in our captain’s brain
Restores his heart; when valour preys on reason,