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-turn’d whore! ’tis thou
Hast sold me to this novice, and my heart
Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly;
For when I am reveng’d upon my charm,
I have done all. Bid them all fly, be gone.
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 spannell’d me at heels, to whom I gave
Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark’d,
That overtopp’d them all. Betray’d I am.
O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,
Whose eye beck’d forth my wars and call’d them home,
Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,
Like a right gipsy, hath at fast and loose
Beguil’d me to the very heart of loss.
What, Eros, Eros!