Antony and Cleopatra, Act 2, Scene 2

Good Enobarbus, ’tis a worthy deed, And shall become you well, to entreat your captain To soft and gentle speech.

Good Enobarbus, it would be a worthy deed, and it would suit you well, to urge your captain to speak softly and gently.

I shall entreat him To answer like himself. If Caesar move him, Let Antony look over Caesar’s head And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter, Were I the wearer of Antonius’ beard, I would not shave’t today.

I'll urge him to answer as himself. If Caesar provokes him, let Antony look right over Caesar's head and speak as loudly as Mars. By Jupiter, if I were the one wearing Antonius' beard, I would not shave it today.

’Tis not a time For private stomaching.

This is no time for nursing private grudges.

Every time Serves for the matter that is then born in’t.

Every time is right for whatever business is born in it.

But small to greater matters must give way.

But small matters must give way to greater ones.

Not if the small come first.

Not if the small ones come first.

Your speech is passion; But pray you stir no embers up. Here comes The noble Antony.

You're speaking out of anger; but please don't stir up any embers. Here comes the noble Antony.

And yonder Caesar.

And over there is Caesar.

If we compose well here, to Parthia. Hark, Ventidius.

If we settle things well here, then on to Parthia. Listen, Ventidius.

I do not know, Maecenas. Ask Agrippa.

I don't know, Maecenas. Ask Agrippa.

Noble friends, That which combined us was most great, and let not A leaner action rend us. What’s amiss, May it be gently heard. When we debate Our trivial difference loud, we do commit Murder in healing wounds. Then, noble partners, The rather for I earnestly beseech, Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms, Nor curstness grow to th’ matter.

Noble friends, what joined us together was a very great thing, so don't let a slighter matter tear us apart. Whatever is wrong, let it be heard calmly. When we argue loudly over our petty differences, we commit murder while trying to heal wounds. So then, noble partners — all the more because I earnestly beg it — handle the bitterest points with the sweetest words, and don't let bad temper make the trouble worse.

’Tis spoken well. Were we before our armies, and to fight, I should do thus.

That's well said. If we were standing in front of our armies, about to fight, I'd do this.

Welcome to Rome.

Welcome to Rome.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Sit.

Sit down.

Sit, sir.

You sit, sir.

Nay, then.

All right, then.

I learn you take things ill which are not so, Or being, concern you not.

I hear that you take offence at things that aren't offences, or that, if they are, have nothing to do with you.

I must be laughed at If, or for nothing or a little, I Should say myself offended, and with you Chiefly i’ th’ world; more laughed at that I should Once name you derogately when to sound your name It not concerned me.

I'd deserve to be laughed at if, over nothing or over some trifle, I claimed to be offended — and offended by you above anyone in the world; and laughed at still more if I ever spoke your name slightingly when it was no concern of mine to mention it at all.

My being in Egypt, Caesar, What was’t to you?

My being in Egypt, Caesar — what was that to you?

No more than my residing here at Rome Might be to you in Egypt. Yet if you there Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt Might be my question.

No more than my staying here in Rome would be to you in Egypt. But if while you were there you were plotting against my position, then your being in Egypt would be something I could question.

How intend you, practised?

What do you mean, plotting?

You may be pleased to catch at mine intent By what did here befall me. Your wife and brother Made wars upon me, and their contestation Was theme for you; you were the word of war.

You can easily grasp my meaning from what happened to me here. Your wife and your brother made war on me, and their quarrel was fought in your name; you were the watchword of that war.

You do mistake your business. My brother never Did urge me in his act. I did inquire it, And have my learning from some true reports That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather Discredit my authority with yours, And make the wars alike against my stomach, Having alike your cause? Of this my letters Before did satisfy you. If you’ll patch a quarrel, As matter whole you have not to make it with, It must not be with this.

You've got it wrong. My brother never brought me in to back his action. I looked into it, and I have my information from reliable reports by men who drew their swords on your side. Didn't he rather discredit my authority along with yours, and wage the war against my own wishes just as much, since your cause was mine as well? My letters already satisfied you about this. If you want to stitch together a quarrel, since you don't have whole cloth to make it from, it mustn't be out of this.

You praise yourself By laying defects of judgment to me; but You patched up your excuses.

You praise yourself by charging me with poor judgement; but you've patched together your excuses.

Not so, not so. I know you could not lack—I am certain on’t— Very necessity of this thought, that I, Your partner in the cause ’gainst which he fought, Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife, I would you had her spirit in such another. The third o’ th’ world is yours, which with a snaffle You may pace easy, but not such a wife.

No, not at all. I know you couldn't have failed — I'm sure of it — to see the plain necessity of this thought: that I, your partner in the cause he was fighting against, could not look with approving eyes on a war that threatened my own peace. As for my wife, I wish you had her spirit in a wife of your own. A third of the world is yours, and you can guide it easily with a bridle — but not such a wife.

Would we had all such wives, that the men Might go to wars with the women.

I wish we all had wives like that, so the men could go to war alongside the women.

So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar, Made out of her impatience—which not wanted Shrewdness of policy too—I grieving grant Did you too much disquiet. For that you must But say I could not help it.

So utterly unruly. Her disturbances, Caesar, born of her impatience — which wasn't short of political cunning either — I admit with regret caused you far too much trouble. For that you must simply grant that I couldn't help it.

I wrote to you When rioting in Alexandria; you Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts Did gibe my missive out of audience.

I wrote to you while you were living riotously in Alexandria; you pocketed my letters, and with jeers you mocked my messenger out of your presence.

Sir, He fell upon me ere admitted, then. Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want Of what I was i’ th’ morning. But next day I told him of myself, which was as much As to have asked him pardon. Let this fellow Be nothing of our strife; if we contend, Out of our question wipe him.

Sir, he burst in on me before he was admitted, at that time. I had just been feasting three kings, and I wasn't the man I had been that morning. But the next day I told him so myself, which was as good as asking his pardon. Let this fellow be no part of our quarrel; if we're going to argue, leave him out of the discussion.

You have broken The article of your oath, which you shall never Have tongue to charge me with.

You have broken one of the terms of your oath, something you will never be able to accuse me of.

Soft, Caesar!

Gently, Caesar!

No, Lepidus, let him speak. The honour is sacred which he talks on now, Supposing that I lacked it. But on, Caesar: The article of my oath?

No, Lepidus, let him speak. The honour he's talking about now is sacred, since he supposes I failed in it. But go on, Caesar: which term of my oath?

To lend me arms and aid when I required them, The which you both denied.

To lend me arms and help when I asked for them, and you refused me both.

Neglected, rather; And then when poisoned hours had bound me up From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may I’ll play the penitent to you. But mine honesty Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power Work without it. Truth is that Fulvia, To have me out of Egypt, made wars here, For which myself, the ignorant motive, do So far ask pardon as befits mine honour To stoop in such a case.

I neglected them, rather; and that was when poisoned hours had shut me off from my own good sense. As far as I can, I'll play the penitent with you. But my honesty won't cheapen my greatness, nor will my power operate without it. The truth is that Fulvia, to get me out of Egypt, made war here, and for that I, the unwitting cause, ask pardon as far as my honour allows me to bow in such a case.

’Tis noble spoken.

That's nobly said.

If it might please you to enforce no further The griefs between ye; to forget them quite Were to remember that the present need Speaks to atone you.

If you would be willing to press the grievances between you no further — to forget them completely would be to remember that the present emergency calls for you to be reconciled.

Worthily spoken, Maecenas.

Worthily said, Maecenas.

Or, if you borrow one another’s love for the instant, you may, when you hear no more words of Pompey, return it again. You shall have time to wrangle in when you have nothing else to do.

Or, if you borrow each other's love for the moment, you can give it back again once you hear no more talk of Pompey. You'll have plenty of time to squabble in when you have nothing else to do.

Thou art a soldier only. Speak no more.

You're nothing but a soldier. Say no more.

That truth should be silent I had almost forgot.

I'd almost forgotten that the truth is supposed to keep quiet.

You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more.

You're insulting this company; so say no more.

Go to, then. Your considerate stone!

All right, then. I'll be your thoughtful stone!

I do not much dislike the matter, but The manner of his speech; for’t cannot be We shall remain in friendship, our conditions So differing in their acts. Yet if I knew What hoop should hold us staunch, from edge to edge O’ th’ world I would pursue it.

I don't much dislike what he said, only the way he said it; because it can't be that we'll stay friends, when our natures act so differently. Still, if I knew what hoop could hold us tight together, I'd chase after it from one edge of the world to the other.

Give me leave, Caesar.

Allow me to speak, Caesar.

Speak, Agrippa.

Speak, Agrippa.

Thou hast a sister by the mother’s side, Admired Octavia. Great Mark Antony Is now a widower.

You have a sister on your mother's side, the admired Octavia. Great Mark Antony is now a widower.

Say not so, Agrippa. If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof Were well deserved of rashness.

Don't say that, Agrippa. If Cleopatra heard you, you would fully deserve a rebuke for rashness.

I am not married, Caesar. Let me hear Agrippa further speak.

I am not married, Caesar. Let me hear Agrippa say more.

To hold you in perpetual amity, To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts With an unslipping knot, take Antony Octavia to his wife; whose beauty claims No worse a husband than the best of men; Whose virtue and whose general graces speak That which none else can utter. By this marriage All little jealousies, which now seem great, And all great fears, which now import their dangers, Would then be nothing. Truths would be tales, Where now half-tales be truths. Her love to both Would each to other, and all loves to both, Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke, For ’tis a studied, not a present thought, By duty ruminated.

To keep you in lasting friendship, to make you brothers, and to tie your hearts together with a knot that can't slip, let Antony take Octavia as his wife; her beauty entitles her to no lesser husband than the best of men, and her virtue and all her graces say what no one else could put into words. By this marriage all the little jealousies that now look large, and all the great fears that now carry real danger, would then come to nothing. Truths would be dismissed as stories, where now even half-stories pass for truth. Her love for both of you would draw each of you to the other, and everyone's love to you both, following after her. Forgive what I've said, for it isn't a thought of the moment but one I've worked over, turned about out of duty.

Will Caesar speak?

Will Caesar speak?

Not till he hears how Antony is touched With what is spoke already.

Not until he hears how Antony is affected by what has already been said.

What power is in Agrippa, If I would say “Agrippa, be it so,” To make this good?

What power does Agrippa have, if I were to say "Agrippa, let it be so," to make this happen?

The power of Caesar, and His power unto Octavia.

The power of Caesar, and Caesar's power over Octavia.

May I never To this good purpose, that so fairly shows, Dream of impediment! Let me have thy hand. Further this act of grace; and from this hour The heart of brothers govern in our loves And sway our great designs!

May I never so much as dream of an obstacle to this good plan, which looks so fair! Give me your hand. Carry this act of kindness forward, and from this hour let a brother's heart rule our love for each other and direct our great enterprises!

There’s my hand. A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother Did ever love so dearly. Let her live To join our kingdoms and our hearts; and never Fly off our loves again!

There's my hand. I give you a sister whom no brother ever loved so dearly. Let her live to join our kingdoms and our hearts; and may our love never break apart again!

Happily, amen!

Happily, amen!

I did not think to draw my sword ’gainst Pompey, For he hath laid strange courtesies and great Of late upon me. I must thank him only, Lest my remembrance suffer ill report; At heel of that, defy him.

I didn't expect to draw my sword against Pompey, because he has recently done me unusual and great kindnesses. I must thank him first, so that my reputation for gratitude doesn't suffer; and right after that, defy him.

Time calls upon ’s. Of us must Pompey presently be sought, Or else he seeks out us.

Time presses us. Pompey must be sought out by us at once, or else he will come looking for us.

Where lies he?

Where is he stationed?

About the Mount Misena.

Somewhere near the Mount Misena.

What is his strength by land?

How strong is he on land?

Great and increasing; but by sea He is an absolute master.

Strong and growing stronger; but at sea he is complete master.

So is the fame. Would we had spoke together! Haste we for it. Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we The business we have talked of.

So people say. I wish we had already talked face to face! Let us hurry to it. But before we take up arms, let us finish the business we have been discussing.

With most gladness, And do invite you to my sister’s view, Whither straight I’ll lead you.

Most gladly, and I invite you to see my sister, and I will take you to her straight away.

Let us, Lepidus, not lack your company.

Lepidus, let us not be without your company.

Noble Antony, not sickness should detain me.

Noble Antony, not even illness could hold me back.

Welcome from Egypt, sir.

Welcome back from Egypt, sir.

Half the heart of Caesar, worthy Maecenas! My honourable friend, Agrippa!

You who are half of Caesar's heart, worthy Maecenas! My honourable friend, Agrippa!

Good Enobarbus!

Good Enobarbus!

We have cause to be glad that matters are so well digested. You stayed well by ’t in Egypt.

We have reason to be glad that the affair has been settled so well. You held out well over there in Egypt.

Ay, sir, we did sleep day out of countenance and made the night light with drinking.

Yes, sir, we slept through the day until it was ashamed of us, and lit up the night with drinking.

Eight wild boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and but twelve persons there. Is this true?

Eight wild boars roasted whole at a single breakfast, and only twelve people there. Is that true?

This was but as a fly by an eagle. We had much more monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting.

That was nothing more than a fly next to an eagle. We had far more monstrous feasting than that, which truly deserved to be recorded.

She’s a most triumphant lady, if report be square to her.

She is a most magnificent lady, if the reports about her are accurate.

When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up his heart upon the river of Cydnus.

When she first met Mark Antony, she pocketed his heart on the river of Cydnus.

There she appeared indeed, or my reporter devised well for her.

She really did make an appearance there, or else the man who told me about it invented well on her behalf.

I will tell you. The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne, Burned on the water. The poop was beaten gold; 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 beggared all description: she did lie In her pavilion, cloth-of-gold of tissue, O’erpicturing that Venus where we see The fancy outwork nature. On each side her Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, With divers-coloured fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, And what they undid did.

I will tell you. The barge she sat in, like a polished throne, burned on the water. The stern was hammered gold; the sails were purple, and so perfumed that the winds grew love-sick with them; the oars were silver, and they kept time to the tune of flutes, and made the water they struck follow faster, as if it were in love with their strokes. As for her own person, it left all description bankrupt: she lay in her pavilion, made of gold cloth woven with gauze, outdoing that picture of Venus where we see imagination surpass nature. On each side of her stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, with many-coloured fans, whose breeze seemed to make the delicate cheeks they were cooling glow, and so did the very thing it undid.

O, rare for Antony!

Oh, a splendid thing for Antony!

Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i’ th’ eyes, And made their bends adornings. At the helm A seeming mermaid steers. The silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her, and Antony, Enthroned i’ th’ market-place, did sit alone, Whistling to th’ air, which, but for vacancy, Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, And made a gap in nature.

Her waiting women, like the Nereides, like so many mermaids, waited on her, watching her eyes for orders, and made their bowing look like decoration. At the helm a girl who seemed a mermaid steers. The silken rigging swells at the touch of those flower-soft hands that nimbly do the work. From the barge a strange, invisible perfume strikes the senses of the wharfs nearby. The city emptied its people out to her, and Antony, enthroned in the market place, sat there alone, whistling to the air, which, if it were not that its leaving would make emptiness, would have gone off to gaze on Cleopatra too, and made a hole in nature.

Rare Egyptian!

Extraordinary Egyptian!

Upon her landing, Antony sent to her, Invited her to supper. She replied It should be better he became her guest, Which she entreated. Our courteous Antony, Whom ne’er the word of “No” woman heard speak, Being barbered ten times o’er, goes to the feast, And, for his ordinary, pays his heart For what his eyes eat only.

When she landed, Antony sent word to her and invited her to supper. She answered that it would be better if he became her guest, and she asked him to. Our courteous Antony, whom no woman ever heard say the word "No", after being shaved ten times over, goes to the feast, and for his meal pays with his heart for what only his eyes consumed.

Royal wench! She made great Caesar lay his sword to bed. He ploughed her, and she cropped.

Royal girl! She made great Caesar put his sword to bed. He ploughed her, and she bore the crop.

I saw her once Hop forty paces through the public street And, having lost her breath, she spoke and panted, That she did make defect perfection, And, breathless, pour breath forth.

I once saw her hop forty paces down the public street, and, having lost her breath, she talked and gasped, so that she turned a defect into perfection, and, out of breath, poured breath out.

Now Antony must leave her utterly.

Now Antony will have to leave her completely.

Never. He will not. Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety. Other women cloy 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.

Never. He will not. Age cannot wither her, nor familiarity make her endless variety go stale. Other women satisfy the appetites they feed, but she makes people hungry where she satisfies them most. For the foulest things suit her, so that the holy priests bless her when she is behaving lustfully.

If beauty, wisdom, modesty can settle The heart of Antony, Octavia is A blessed lottery to him.

If beauty, wisdom and modesty can settle Antony's heart, then Octavia is a blessed prize for him.

Let us go. Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest Whilst you abide here.

Let us go. Good Enobarbus, be my guest while you stay here.

Humbly, sir, I thank you.

I thank you humbly, sir.