Why,then,we kill all our women: we see how mortal an unkindness is to them: if they suffer our departure,death's the word. MARK ANTONY I must be gone. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS Under a compelling occasion,let women die;it were pity to cast them away for nothing;though,between them and a great cause,they should be esteemed nothing.Cleopatra,catching but the least noise of this,dies instantly;I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment:I do think there is mettle in death,which commits some loving act upon her,she hath such a celerity in dying MARK ANTONY She is cunning past man's thought. Exit ALEXAS DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS Alack,sir,no;her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love:we cannot call her winds and waters sighs and tears;they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report:this cannot be cunning in her;if it be,she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove MARK ANTONY Would I had never seen her. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS O,sir,you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of work;which not to have been blest withal would have discredited your travel. MARK ANTONY Fulvia is dead. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS Sir? MARK ANTONY Fulvia is dead DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS Fulvia! MARK ANTONY Dead. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS Why,sir,give the gods a thankful sacrifice.When it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a manWhy, then, we kill all our women: we see how mortal an unkindness is to them; if they suffer our departure, death's the word. MARK ANTONY I must be gone. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS Under a compelling occasion, let women die; it were pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such a celerity in dying. MARK ANTONY She is cunning past man's thought. Exit ALEXAS DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love: we cannot call her winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove. MARK ANTONY Would I had never seen her. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece of work; which not to have been blest withal would have discredited your travel. MARK ANTONY Fulvia is dead. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS Sir? MARK ANTONY Fulvia is dead. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS Fulvia! MARK ANTONY Dead. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man