Antony and Cleopatra

Where is he?

I haven’t seen him recently.

(to ALEXAS) Find out where he is, who’s with him, and what he’s doing. Don’t tell him I sent you. If he’s sad, tell him I’m dancing. If he’s happy, say that I’ve suddenly taken sick. Hurry, and come back.

Madam, I think if you love him so much, you aren’t using the best way to get him to reciprocate.

What should I do that I’m not doing?

Always give him his way. Never contradict him.

You advise me like a fool. That’s the way to lose him.

Don’t push him too far. I wish you’d be patient. We come to hate that which controls us.

But here comes Antony.

I am sick and sullen.

I’m sorry to have to say this—

Help me away from here, dear Charmian! I shall faint. I won’t be able to go on this way much longer. Human nature isn’t built to withstand this.

Now, my dearest Queen—

Please, stand farther away from me.

What’s the matter?

I can see in your eyes there’s been some good news. What, does your wife say you can come home? I wish she’d never let you come. Don’t let her say I kept you. I have no power over you. You belong to her.

The gods know—

Oh, never has a queen been so betrayed as I have been. I knew from the first it would be this way.

Cleopatra—

How could I have ever thought that you would be faithful and true, even though your vows of love shook the heavens themselves—you, who were unfaithful to Fulvia? It was wild insanity to believe promises made by the mouth and not the heart. Such false vows are broken as soon as they are spoken.

Most sweet Queen—

No, please don’t try to excuse your departure. Just say good-bye and go. When you begged to stay, that was the time for words. You didn’t want to go then! You saw eternity in my lips and eyes, and happiness in the arch of my eyebrows. Then, all my parts seemed angelic to you. My features are still that beautiful—or else you, the greatest soldier in the world, have become the greatest liar by overpraising them.

What do you mean, lady?

I wish I were as big and strong as you. Then you’d see the courage that lives in the Queen of Egypt.

Listen to me, Queen. There is an emergency I must take care of, but my whole heart will remain here with you. My Italy is full of civil war. Sextus Pompeius is sailing toward the port of Rome. When two domestic opponents are equally matched—as we are against Pompey—factions will form on the smallest of pretexts. When a formerly hated man grows powerful, he suddenly finds himself with many supporters. Pompey, who was once condemned, now wields his father’s power, and all the citizens who have grievances against the government are joining him. Pompey’s numbers are steadily growing, and the government is ready to do something desperate. But my personal motivation—and that which should move you most to sanction my departure—is that Fulvia is dead.

I may not have outlived the foolishness of my youth, but I’m not that childishly naïve. Is it possible Fulvia is dead?

She’s dead, my Queen.

Look at this. Take your royal time and read about the quarrels she encouraged. And saving the best for last, read when and where she died.

Oh, unfaithful lover! You should be filling vials with your tears. Seeing how you take Fulvia’s death, I can see how you would react to mine.

Stop arguing and listen to my plans. Whether I go ahead with them or not is completely up to you. I swear by the sun that when I leave here, it will be as your faithful servant. I will make either peace or war, whichever you prefer.

Cut my corset laces, Charmian, so I can breathe. Hurry! No, leave it alone. I waver easily between sickness and health. Just as Antony loves.

Control yourself, my precious Queen, and concede that my love is true. It has endured many genuine trials.

That’s what Fulvia told me. I beg you, turn away and cry for her. Then say good-bye to me and tell me those tears were for my benefit. Good. Now perform a scene for me, using your excellent skills of playacting, and pretend that you’re being honorable and righteous.

You’ll make me angry. No more of this.

I know you can do better than that, but it’ll do for now.

I swear by my sword—

Swear by your shield, too! (to CHARMIAN) He’s getting better, but still it’s not his best. See, Charmian, how well this mighty Roman portrays anger?

I’ll leave you, lady.

Polite sir, let me say one thing. Sir, you and I must part company—no, that’s not it. Sir, you and I were lovers—no, that’s not it, either. You already know all that. There’s something I’d like to—oh, I’ve forgotten what I wanted to say. Just as Antony has forgotten me.

If you weren’t the queen of immaturity, I’d think you were immaturity itself.

It’s difficult to have such immaturity so close to my heart, but bear with me. Even the traits that become me most kill me when you don’t approve of them. Your honor is the reason you are leaving. So I beg you not to listen to my foolishness. May the gods be with you. May your sword be victorious and everything you do succeed.

Let’s go. Come with me. Our imminent separation so occupies our thoughts that even though you stay here, you come with me, and even though I leave here, I stay with you.