Ant. When did she send thee?

Dio. Now, my lord.

Ant. Where is she?

Dio. Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw

(Which never shall be found) you did suspect

*

She had disposed with Cæsar, and that your rage

Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead;
But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent

Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come,

I dread, too late.

Ant. Too late, good Diomed:-Call my guard, I pr'ythee. Dio. What ho! the emperor's guard! The guard, what ho! Come, your lord calls.

Enter some of the GUARD.

Ant. Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides: "Tis the last service that I shall command you.

1 Guard. Woe are we, Sir, you may not live to wear All your true followers out.

All. Most heavy day!

Ant. Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate
To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome
Which comes to punish us, and we punish it
Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up:
I have led you oft; carry me now, good friends,
And have my thanks for all.

[Exeunt, bearing ANTONY.

SCENE XIII.-The same. A Monument.
Enter above, CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS.
Cleo. O, Charmian, I will never go from hence.
Char. Be comforted, dear madam.

Cleo. No, I will not.

All strange and terrible events are welcome,
But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow,
Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great

Enter DIOMEDES.

As that which makes it.-How now? is he dead?
Dio. His death's upon him, but not dead.
Look out o' the other side your monument,
His guard hath brought him thither.

Enter ANTONY, borne by the Guard.

Cleo. O thou sun,

Burn the great sphere thou movest in !-darkling stand
The varying shore o' the world!-0 Antony!

Antony, Antony !-Charmian, help; help, Íras;
Help, friends below; let's draw him hither.

Ant. Peace:

Not Cæsar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
But Antony hath triumph'd on itself.

* Settled.

Cleo. So it should be, that none but Antony
Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so!
Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
I here impórtune death awhile, until
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay upon thy lips.-

Cleo. I dare not, dear

(Dear my lord, pardon), I dare not,
Lest I be taken: not the imperious show
Of the full-fortuned Cæsar ever shall

Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs, serpents, have
Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe:

Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes,

And still conclusion,† shall acquire no honour
Demurring upon me.-But come, come, Antony,-
Help me, my women,-we must draw thee up ;-
Assist, good friends.

Ant. O quick, or I am gone.

Cleo. Here's sport, indeed!-How heavy weighs my lord!
Our strength is all gone into heaviness,

That makes the weight: Had I great Juno's power,
The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up,
And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,-
Wishers were ever fools;-O, come, come, come;

[They draw ANTONY up,

And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived:
Quicken with kissing; had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.

All. A heavy sight!

Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying:

Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.

Cleo. No, let me speak; and let me rail so high, That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel, Provoked by my offence.

Ant. One word, sweet queen:

Of Cæsar seek your honour, with your safety.-O!
Cleo. They do not go together.

Ant. Gentle, hear me.

None about Cæsar trust, but Proculeius.

Cleo. My resolution, and my hands, I'll trust;
None about Cæsar.

Ant. 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 lived, the greatest prince o' the world,
The noblest and do now not basely die,
Nor cowardly; put off my helmet to
My countryman, a Roman, by a Roman
Valiantly vanquish'd. Now, my spirit is going;
I can no more.

Cleo. Noblest of men, woo't die ?

Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide

*Ornamented.

† Sedate determination.

[Dies.

In this dull world, which in thy absence is
No better than a stye?-O, see, my women,
The crown o' the earth doth melt:-My lord!
O, wither'd is the garland of the war,

The soldier's pole is fallen; young boys, and girls,
Are level now with men: the odds is gone,

And there is nothing left remarkable

Beneath the visiting moon.

Char. O, quietness, lady!

Iras. She is dead too, our sovereign.
Char. Lady,-

Iras. Madam,

Char. O madam, madam, madam !
Iras. Royal Egypt!

Empress!

Char. Peace, peace, Iras.

[She faints.

Cleo. No more, but e'en a woman; and commanded
By such poor passion as the maid that milks,

And does the meanest chares.*-It were for me
To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods;
To tell them, that this world did equal theirs,
Till they had stolen our jewel. All's but naught;
Patience is sottish; and impatience does
Become a dog that's mad; Then is it sin,
To rush into the secret house of death,

Ere death dare come to us ?-How do you, women?
What, what? good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian?
My noble girls!-Ah, women, women! look,
Our lamp is spent, it's out:-Good Sirs, take heart:-

[To the guard below. We'll bury him: and then, what's brave, what's noble, Let's do it after the high Roman fashion,

And make death proud to take us. Come, away:
This case of that huge spirit now is cold.

Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend

But resolution, and the briefest end.

[Exeunt: those above bearing off ANTONY's body.

ACT V.

SCENE I-CESAR'S Camp before Alexandria.

Enter CESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECENAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and others.

Cas. Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;

Being so frustrate,† tell him, he mocks us by

The pauses that he makes.

Dol. Cæsar, I shall.

[Exit DOLABELLA.

Enter DERCETAS, with the Sword of ANTONY.

Cas. Wherefore is that? and what art thou, that dar❜st Appear thus to us?

Der. I am call'd Dercetas;

Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy
Best to be served: whilst he stood up and spoke,
He was my master; and I wore my life,

To spend upon his haters: If thou please
To take me to thee, as I was to him
I'll be to Cæsar; if thou pleasest not,
I yield thee up my life.

Cas. What is't thou say'st?

Der. I say, O Cæsar, Antony is dead.

Cas. The breaking of so great a thing should make A greater crack: The round world should have shook Lions into civil streets,

And citizens to their dens:-The death of Antony
Is not a single doom; in the name lay

A moiety of the world.

Der. He is dead, Cæsar;

Not by a public minister of justice,

Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand,

Which writ his honour in the acts it did,

Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,

Splitted the heart. This is his sword,

I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd
With his most noble blood.

Cas. Look you sad, friends?

The gods rebuke me, but it is a tidings

To wash the eyes of kings.*

Agr. And strange it is,

That nature must compel us to lament

Our most persisted deeds.

Mec. His taints and honours

Waged equal with him.

Agr. A rarer spirit never

Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us

Some faults to make us men. Cæsar is touch'd.

Mec. When such a spacious mirror 's set before him,

He needs must see himself.

Cas. O Antony !

I have follow'd thee to this;-But we do lance
Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce
Have shown to thee such a declining day,
Or look on thine; we could not stall together
In the whole world. But yet let me lament,
With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,
That thou, my brother, my competitor,
In top of all design, my mate in empire,
Friend and companion in the front of war,
The arm of mine own body, and the heart

Where mine hist thoughts did kindle,-that our stars,
Unreconcilable, should divide

Our equalness to this.-Hear me, good friends,

But I will tell you at some meeter season;

Enter a MESSENGER.

The business of this man looks out of him,

We'll hear him what he says.-Whence are you?
Mess. A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress,
Confined in all she has, her monument,

Of thy intents desires instruction;

That she preparedly may frame herself
To the way she's forced to.

Cas. Bid her have good heart;

She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,
How honourable and how kindly we
Determine for her; for Cæsar cannot live

To be ungentle.

Mess. So the gods preserve thee.

Cas. Come hither, Proculeius; Go, and say,

We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts

The quality of her passion shall require;

Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke
She do defeat us: for her life in Rome
Would be eternal in our triumph: Go,

And, with your speediest, bring us what she says,
And how you find of her.

Pro. Cæsar, I shall.

[Exit.

[Exit PROCULEIUS.

Cas. Gallus, go you along.-Where's Dolabella, To second Proculeius?

Agr. Mec. Dolabella!

Cas. Let him alone, for I remember now
How he's employ'd; he shall in time be ready.
Go with me to my tent; where you shall see
How hardly I was drawn into this war;
How calm and gentle I proceeded still

[Exit GALLUS.

In all my writings: Go with me, and see
What I can show in this.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II-Alexandria. A Room in the Monument.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS.

Cleo. My desolation does begin to make

A better life: "Tis paltry to be Cæsar;

Not being fortune, he's but fortune's knave,*

A minister of her will; And it is great

To do that thing that ends all other deeds;

Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change;

Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung,

The beggar's nurse and Cæsar's.

Enter, to the Gates of the Monument, PROCULEIUS, GALLUS, and

Soldiers.

Pro. Cæsar sends greeting to the queen of Egypt;

And bids thee study on what fair demands

Thou mean'st to have him grant thee.

Cleo. [within]). What's thy name?

* Servant.