Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine
Is Caesar's homager: else so thy cheek pays
When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers!
Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch
Of the ranged empire fall! Here is my space.
clay: our dungy earth alike
Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life
Is to do thus; when such a mutual
And such a twain can do't, in which I bind,
On pain of punishment, the world to weet
We stand up peerless.
Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?
I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony
But stirr'd by Cleopatra.
Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours,
Let's not confound the time with
There's not a minute of our lives should stretch
Without some pleasure now. What
Hear the ambassadors.
Fie, wrangling queen!
Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,
To weep; whose every passion fully
To make itself, in thee, fair and admired!
No messenger, but thine; and all alone
To-night we'll wander
through the streets and note
The qualities of people. Come, my queen;
Last night you did desire it: speak
not to us.
Exeunt MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA with their train
Is Caesar with Antonius prized so slight?
Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony,
He comes too short of that great property
Which still should go
I am full sorry
That he approves the common liar, who
Thus speaks of him at Rome: but I will hope
better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy!
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