All is lost!

This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me:

My fleet hath yielded to the foe, and yonder

They cast their caps up and carouse together

Like friends long lost. Triple-turned whore! 'tis thou

Has sold me to this novice, and my heart

Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly;

For when I am revenged upon my charm,

I have done all. Bid them all fly, begone.

O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more.

Fortune and Antony part here, even here

Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts

That spanieled me at heels, to whom I gave

Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets

On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is barked,

That overtopped them all. Betrayed I am.

O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,

Whose eye becked forth my wars, and called them home,

Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,

Like a right gypsy hath at fast and loose

Beguiled me to the very heart of loss.

What, Eros, Eros! [Enter Cleopatra.] Ah, thou spell! Avaunt!

Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving

And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee

And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians;

Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot

Of all thy sex. Most monster-like be shown

For poor'st diminitives, for dolts, and let

Patient Octavia plough thy visage up

With her preparèd nails. [Exit Cleopatra.] 'Tis well th' art gone,

If it be well to live; but better 'twere

Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death

Might have prevented many. Eros, ho!

The shirt of Nessus is upon me; teach me,

Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage.

Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' th' moon

And with those hands that grasped the heaviest club

Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die.

To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall

Under his plot: she dies for 't. Eros, ho!

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