And welcome, welcome! Die where thou hast lived;
Quicken with kissing. Had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.
ALL.
A heavy sight!
ANTONY.
I am dying, Egypt, dying.
Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.
CLEOPATRA.
No, let me speak, and let me rail so high
That the false huswife Fortune break her wheel,
Provoked by my offence.
ANTONY.
One word, sweet queen:
Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O!
CLEOPATRA.
They do not go together.
ANTONY.
Gentle, hear me.
None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.
CLEOPATRA.
My resolution and my hands I’ll trust;
None about Caesar.
ANTONY.
The miserable change now at my end
Lament nor sorrow at, but please your thoughts
In feeding them with those my former fortunes
Wherein I lived the greatest prince o’ th’ world,
The noblest; and do now not basely die,
Not cowardly put off my helmet to
My countryman; a Roman by a Roman
Valiantly vanquished. Now my spirit is going;
I can no more.
CLEOPATRA.
Noblest of men, woo’t die?
Hast thou no care of me? Shall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy absence is
No better than a sty? O, see, my women,