ANTONY.
Eros, thou yet behold’st me?
EROS.
Ay, noble lord.
ANTONY.
Sometime we see a cloud that’s dragonish,
A vapour sometime like a bear or lion,
A towered citadel, a pendant rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory
With trees upon’t, that nod unto the world
And mock our eyes with air. Thou hast seen these signs.
They are black vesper’s pageants.
EROS.
Ay, my lord.
ANTONY.
That which is now a horse, even with a thought
The rack dislimns and makes it indistinct
As water is in water.
EROS.
It does, my lord.
ANTONY.
My good knave Eros, now thy captain is
Even such a body. Here I am Antony,
Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave.
I made these wars for Egypt, and the Queen,
Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine,
Which, whilst it was mine, had annexed unto’t
A million more, now lost—she, Eros, has
Packed cards with Caesar, and false-played my glory
Unto an enemy’s triumph.
Nay, weep not, gentle Eros. There is left us
Ourselves to end ourselves.
Enter Mardian.
O, thy vile lady!
She has robbed me of my sword.
MARDIAN.
No, Antony,
My mistress loved thee and her fortunes mingled
With thine entirely.