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Cleopatra Monologue from Antony and Cleopatra

From Antony and Cleopatra by William Shakespeare

female · anguished · 33 sec

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’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 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 Be strewed before your feet!

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