&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;O Charmian, I will never go from hence.

&blquo;Cha.
&blquo;Be comforted, dear madam.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;No, I will not:
&blquo;All strange and terrible events are welcome,
&blquo;But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow,
&blquo;Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great &blquo;Enter Diomede.
&blquo;As that which makes it.—How now? is he dead?

&blquo;Dio.
&blquo;His death's upon him, but not dead. Look out
&blquo;O' the other side your monument,—But see,
&blquo;His guard have brought him hither. &blquo;Enter Antony, borne by the Guard.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;O sun, sun,
&blquo;Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in! darkling stand
&blquo;The varying shore o' the world!—O Antony,
&blquo;Antony, Antony!—Charmian, help; help, Iras;
&blquo;Help, friends below: let's draw him hither.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;Peace:
&blquo;Not Cæsar's valour hath o'er-thrown Antony,
&blquo;But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;So it should be, that none but Antony
&blquo;Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so!

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;I am dying, Egypt, dying; only yet
&blquo;I here impórtune death a while, until
&blquo;Of many thousand kisses the poor last
&blquo;I lay upon thy lips: Come down.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;I dare not,
&blquo;(Dear, dear my lord, your pardon that I dare not)
&blquo;Lest I be taken: not the imperious shew
&blquo;Of the full-fortun'd Cæsar ever shall
&blquo;Be brooch'd with me; if knives, drugs, serpents, have
&blquo;Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe:
&blquo;Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes,

&blquo;And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour
&blquo;Demuring upon me.—But come, come, Antony,—
&blquo;Help me, my women,—we must draw thee up;—
&blquo;Assist, good friends. [Cleopatra, and her Women, throw out certain Tackle, into which the People below put Antony, and he is drawn up.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;O, quick, or I am gone.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;Here's sport, indeed! How heavy weighs my lord?
&blquo;Our strength is all gone into heaviness,
&blquo;That makes the weight: Had I great Juno's power,
&blquo;The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up,
&blquo;And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,—
&blquo;Wishers were ever fools;—O, come, come, come;
&blquo;And welcome, welcome! die, where thou hast liv'd:
&blquo;Quicken with kissing; had my lips that power,
&blquo;Thus would I wear them out.

&blquo;All.
&blquo;A heavy sight!

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;I am dying, Egypt, dying:
&blquo;Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;No, let me speak; and let me rail so high,
&blquo;That the false huswife fortune break her wheel,
&blquo;Provok'd by my offence.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;One word, sweet queen:
&blquo;Of Cæsar seek your honour, with your safety. O!

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;They do not go together.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;Gentle, hear me:
&blquo;None about Cæsar trust, but Proculeius.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;My resolution, and my hands, I'll trust,
&blquo;None about Cæsar.

&blquo;Ant.
&blquo;The miserable change now at my end
&blquo;Lament nor sorrow at: but please your thoughts,
&blquo;In feeding them with those my former fortunes
&blquo;Wherein I liv'd: the greatest prince o'the world,
&blquo;The noblest: and do now not basely die,
&blquo;Not cowardly put off my helmet; to
&blquo;My countryman, a Roman by a Roman
&blquo;Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going,
&blquo;I can no more. [sinks.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;Noblest of men, wou't die?
&blquo;Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide

&blquo;In this dull world, which in thy absence is,
&blquo;No better than a sty?—O, see, my women, [Ant. dies.
The crown o' the earth doth melt:—My lord!—
&blquo;O, wither'd is the garland of the war,
&blquo;The soldier's pole is fall'n; young boys, and girls,
&blquo;Are level now with men: the odds is gone,
&blquo;And there is nothing-left remarkable
&blquo;Beneath the visiting moon* ^note.

&blquo;Cha.
&blquo;O, quietness, lady. [Cleopatra swoons.

&blquo;Ira.
&blquo;She is dead too, our sovereign.

&blquo;Cha.
&blquo;Lady,—

&blquo;Ira.
&blquo;Madam,—

&blquo;Cha.
&blquo;O madam, madam, madam!

&blquo;Ira.
&blquo;Royal Egypt!
&blquo;Emperess!

&blquo;Cha.
&blquo;Peace, peace, Iras. [seeing her recover.

&blquo;Cle.
&blquo;No more but e'en a woman; and commanded
&blquo;By such poor passion, as the maid that milks,
&blquo;And does the meanest chares. It were for me,
&blquo;To throw my scepter at the injurious gods;
&blquo;To tell them, that this world did equal theirs,
&blquo;'Till they had stol'n our jewel. All's but naught;
&blquo;Patience is sottish; and impatience does
&blquo;Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin,
&blquo;To rush into the secret house of death,
&blquo;Ere death dare come to us?—How do you, women?
&blquo;What? what? good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian?
&blquo;My noble girls!—Ah, women, women! look,
&blquo;Our lamp is spent, it's out:—Good sirs, take heart:—
&blquo;We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, what's noble,
&blquo;Let's do it after the high Roman fashion,
&blquo;And make death proud to take us. Come, away:
&blquo;This case of that huge spirit now is cold.

&blquo;Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend
&blquo;But resolution, and the briefest end. &blquo;[Exeunt; those above bearing off the body† ^note.

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