Ant. I'll leave you, lady.
Cleo. Courteous lord, one word.
Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it:
Sir, you and I have lov'd, but there's not it; 88
That you know well: something it is I would,—
O! my oblivion is a very Antony,
And I am all forgotten.
Ant. But that your royalty
Holds idleness your subject, I should take you 92
For idleness itself.
Cleo. 'Tis sweating labour
To bear such idleness so near the heart
As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me,
Since my becomings kill me when they do not 96
Eye well to you. Your honour calls you hence;
Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly,
And all the gods go with you! Upon your sword
Sit laurel victory! and smooth success 100
Be strew'd before your feet!
Ant. Let us go. Come;
Our separation so abides and flies,
That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me,
And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. 104
Away! Exeunt.
Scene Four
[Rome. A Room in Cæsar's House]
Enter Octavius [Cæsar], reading a letter, Lepidus, and their Train.
Cæs. You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know,
It is not Cæsar's natural vice to hate
90, 91 O! my oblivion . . . forgotten; cf. n.
96 becomings: graces
97 Eye well: look well
