CLEOPATRA.
If it be love indeed, tell me how much.

ANTONY.
There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.

CLEOPATRA.
I'll set a bourn how far to be belov'd.

ANTONY.
Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

[...]

CLEOPATRA.
You must not stay here longer, your dismission
Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony.
[...]I am Egypt's queen.
Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine
Is Caesar's homager. [...]

ANTONY.
Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch
Of the rang'd empire fall! Here is my space.
[...]
We stand up peerless.

CLEOPATRA.
O false love! [...] 
I am sick and sullen. [...]

ANTONY.
I am sorry. [...]

CLEOPATRA.
Stand farther from me. [...]
What says the married woman? [...]
Would she had never given you leave to come!
Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here:
I have no power upon you; hers you are.[...]
Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going,
But bid farewell, and go: when you su'd staying,
Then was the time for words: no going then;—
Eternity was in our lips and eyes,
Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor
But was a race of heaven: they are so still,
Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,
Art turn'd the greatest liar. [...]

ANTONY.
O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See
How I convey my shame out of thine eyes
By looking back, what I have left behind. [...]

CLEOPATRA.
O my lord, my lord,
Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought
You would have follow'd.

ANTONY.
[...] Thou knew'st too well
My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings,
And thou shouldst tow me after. [...]

CLEOPATRA.
Lord of lords!
O infinite virtue, com'st thou smiling from
The world's great snare uncaught? [...] 

ANTONY.
Mine nightingale,
We have beat them to their beds. What, girl!
[...]Behold this man;
Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand;—
Kiss it, my warrior: he hath fought to-day
As if a god. [...]

CLEOPATRA.
I'll give thee, friend,
An armour all of gold; it was a king's.

ANTONY.
O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more:
Fortune and Antony part here; even here
Do we shake hands.—All come to this?
I am dying, Egypt. [...]

CLEOPATRA.
Noblest of men, woo't die?
Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy absence is
No better than a sty?[...]
The crown o' the earth doth melt.—My lord!—

ANTONY.
The miserable change now at my end
Lament nor sorrow at: but please your thoughts
In feeding them with those my former fortunes
Wherein I liv'd, the greatest prince o' the world,
The noblest; and do now not basely die.
[...] Now my spirit is going:
I can no more.

CLEOPATRA.
[...]
And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting moon.