Antony and Cleopatra is a dramatization of the historical events surrounding the deaths of the titular Roman general and Egyptian monarch. The play contrasts the austerity of Rome with the excess and glories of the Alexandrian court of Cleopatra. It spans the period of time between the Sicilian Revolt and Cleopatra's suicide during Octavius Caesar's war against Egypt. Cleopatra herself is the dramatic focus of the play, a tragic figure given to vanity and scheming.
Antony and Cleopatra is a historical tragedy by William Shakespeare, originally printed in the First Folio of 1623. Most scholars believe it was written in 1606–07.
This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes The lamps of night in revel; is not more man-like Than Cleopatra; nor the queen of Ptolemy More womanly than he.
To say as I said then!
O' the world I would pursue it.
Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that
The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
It beggar'd all description.
The appetites they feed; but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies : for vilest things
Become themselves in her, that the holy priests
Bless her when she is riggish.
He beats thee 'gainst the odds; thy lustre thickens
When he shines by.
Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he
With fervency drew up.
The soldier’s virtue, rather makes choice of loss,
Than gain which darkens him.
To do you justice, make them ministers
Of us and those that love you.
Do draw the inward quality after them,
To suffer all alike.
And cry 'Your will?' Have you no ears? I am
He makes me angry with him; for he seems
Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am,
Not what he knew I was: he makes me angry.
The fall of Antony!
Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.
He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal combat,
Caesar to Antony: let the old ruffian know
I have many other ways to die; meantime
Laugh at his challenge.
That life, a very rebel to my will,
May hang no longer on me.
O Antony! O Antony!
All strange and terrible events are welcome,
But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow,
Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great.
A tower’d citadel, a pendent 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.
Enorbarbus: Ay, my lord. Antony: That which is now a horse, even with a thoughtThe rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct,
As water is in water.
Detest my baseness.
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay upon thy lips.
Are level now with men; the odds is gone,
And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting moon.
Let's do it after the high Roman fashion,
And make Death proud to take us. Come, away:
This case of that huge spirit now is cold.—
Ah, women, women!— come; we have no friend
But resolution, and the briefest end.
A moiety of the world.
That thou, my brother, my competitor
In top of all design, my mate in empire,
Friend and companion in the front of war,
The arm of mine own body, and the heart
Where mine his thoughts did kindle,—that our stars,
Unreconciliable, should divide
Our equalness to this.
That grew the more by reaping.
Uplift us to the view; in their thick breath,
Rank with gross diet, shall we be enclouded,
And forc'd to drink their vapour.
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies
Blow me into abhorring!
The element they lived in.
Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool,
Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak,
That I might hear thee call great Caesar AssUnpolicied!
That sucks the nurse asleep?
In her strong toil of grace.
A pair so famous.