The latter scenes of ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA are full of the changes of
accident and passion. Success and defeat follow one another with
startling rapidity. For-tune sits upon her wheel more blind and
giddy than usual. This precarious state and the approaching
dissolution of his greatness are strikingly displayed in the
dialogue between Antony and Eros:
Antony. Eros, thou yet behold'st me?
Eros. Ay, noble lord.
Antony. Sometime we see a cloud that's dragonish,
A vapour sometime, like a bear or lion,
A towered citadel, a pendant rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory
With trees upon't, that nod unto the world
And mock our eyes with air. Thou hast seen these signs,
They are black vesper's pageants.
Eros. Ay, my lord.
Antony. That which is now a horse, even with a thought
The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct
As water is in water.
Eros. It does, my lord.
Antony. My good knave, Eros, now thy captain is
Even such a body, &c.
This is, without doubt, one of the finest pieces of poetry in
Shakespeare. The splendour of the imagery, the semblance of reality,
the lofty range of picturesque objects hanging over the world, their
evanescent nature, the total uncertainty of what is left behind, are
' just like the mouldering schemes of human greatness.
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