Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmion, Iras, Alexas, with others.
Ant.
He will not fight with me, Domitius.
Eno.
No.
Ant.
Why should he not?
Eno.
He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,
He's twenty men to one.
Ant.
To-morrow, soldier,
By sea and land I'll fight: or I will live,
Or bathe my dying honour in the blood
Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well?
Eno.
I'll strike, and cry, “3 notetake all.”
Ant.
Well said. Come on.
Call forth my houshold servants, let's to-night
-- 203 --
Enter Servants.
Be bounteous at our meal. Give me thy hand,
Thou hast been rightly honest; so hast Thou;
And Thou; and Thou; and Thou. You've serv'd me well,
And Kings have been your fellows.
Cleo.
What means this?
Eno. [Aside.]
'Tis 4 noteone of those odd tricks, which sorrow shoots
Out of the mind.
Ant.
And thou art honest too.
I wish, I could be made so many men;
And all of you clapt up together in
An Antony; that I might do you service,
So good as you have done.
Omnes.
The Gods forbid!
Ant.
Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night;
Scant not my cups, and make as much of me,
As when mine Empire was your fellow too,
And suffer'd my command.
Cleo.
What does he mean?
Eno.
To make his followers weep.
Ant.
Tend me to-night;
May be, it is the period of your duty;
Haply, you shall not see me more; 5 note
or if,
A mangled shadow. It may chance, to-morrow
You'll serve another master. I look on you,
As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends,
I turn you not away; but like a master
Married to your good service, stay till death:
-- 204 --
Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more,
And the Gods shield you for't?
Eno.
What mean you, Sir,
To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep.
And I, an ass, am 6 noteonion-ey'd. For shame,
Transform us not to women.
Ant.
Ho, ho, ho!
Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus!
Grace grow, where those drops fall! My hearty friends,
You take me in too dolorous a sense;
I spake t' you for your comfort, did desire you
To burn this night with torches. Know, my hearts,
I hope well of to-morrow, and will lead you,
Where rather I'll expect victorious life,
Than 7 notedeath and honour. Let's to supper, come,
And drown consideration.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
A Court of Guard before the Palace.
Enter a company of Soldiers.
1 Sold.
Brother, good night: to-morrow is the day.
2 Sold.
It will determine one way. Fare you well.
Heard you of nothing strange about the streets?
1 Sold.
Nothing. What news?
2 Sold.
Belike, 'tis but a rumour. Good-night to you.
1 Sold.
Well, Sir, good night.
[They meet with other Soldiers.
2 Sold.
Soldiers, have careful watch.
1 Sold.
And you. Good-night, good-night.
[They place themselves on every corner of the stage.
-- 205 --
2 Sold.
Here, we; and if to-morrow
Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope
Our landmen will stand up.
1 Sold.
'Tis a brave army, and full of purpose.
[Musick of the hautboys is under the stage.
2 Sold.
Peace, what noise?
1 Sold.
List, list!
2 Sold.
Hark!
1 Sold.
Musick i' th' air.—
3 Sold.
Under the earth.—
It signes well, does it not?
2 Sold.
No.
1 Sold.
Peace, I say. What should this mean?
2 Sold.
'Tis the God Hercules, who loved Antony,
Now leaves him.
1 Sold.
Walk, let's see if other watchmen
Do hear what we do.
2 Sold.
How now, masters?
[Speak together.
Omnes.
How now? how now? do you hear this?
1 Sold.
Is't not strange?
3 Sold.
Do you hear, masters? do you hear?
1 Sold.
Follow the noise so far as we have quarter,
Let's see how 'twill give off.
Omnes.
Content. 'Tis strange.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Changes to Cleopatra's Palace.
Enter Antony and Cleopatra, with Charmion and others.
Ant.
Eros, mine armour, Eros.
Cleo.
Sleep a little.
Ant.
No, my chuck. Eros, come. Mine armour, Eros.
-- 206 --
Enter Eros.
Come, my good fellow, put 8 note
thine iron on:
If fortune be not ours to-day, it is
Because we brave her. Come.
Cleo.
9 noteNay, I'll help too.
Ant.
What's this for? ah, let be, let be; thou art
The armourer of my heart;—false, false; this, this;—
Cleo.
Sooth-la, I'll help. Thus it must be.
[Cleopatra puts the armour on Antony.
Ant.
Well, well, we shall thrive now;
Seest thou, my good fellow? Go, put on thy defences.
Eno.
1 noteBriefly, Sir.
Cleo.
Is not this buckled well?
Ant.
Rarely, rarely:
He that unbuckles this, till we do please
To doff't for our repose, shall hear a storm.
Thou fumblest, Eros; and my Queen's a squire
More tight at this than thou. Despatch. O love!
That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew'st
The royal occupation; thou shouldst see
A workman in 't.
Enter an armed Soldier.
Good-morrow to thee, welcome;
Thou look'st like him, that knows a warlike charge:
To business that we love we rise betime,
And go to 't with delight.
Sold.
A thousand, Sir,
Early though 't be, have on their rivetted trim,
And at the port expect you.
[Shout. Trumpets flourish.
-- 207 --
Enter Captains and Soldiers.
Cap.
The morn is fair. Good-morrow, General!
All.
Good-morrow, General!
Ant.
'Tis well blown, lads.
This morning, like the spirit of a youth
That means to be of note, begins betimes.
So, so.—Come, give me that—This way—Well said.
Fare thee well, dame, what e'er becomes of me.
This is a soldier's kiss: rebukeable,
[Kisses her.
And worthy shameful check it were, to stand
On more mechanick compliment: I'll leave thee
Now, like a man of steel. You, that will fight,
Follow me close, I'll bring you to 't. Adieu.
[Exeunt.
Char.
Please you retire to your chamber?
Cleo.
Lead me.
He goes forth gallantly. That he and Cæsar might
Determine this great war in single fight!
Then, Antony,—But now.—Well!—On.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Changes to a Camp.
Trumpets sound. Enter Antony, and Eros; a Soldier meeting them.
2 noteSold.
The Gods make this a happy day to Antony!
Ant.
'Would, thou and those thy scars had once prevail'd
-- 208 --
To make me fight at land!
Eros.
Hadst thou done so,
The Kings, that have revolted, and the Soldier,
That has this morning left thee, would have still
Follow'd thy heels.
Ant.
Who's gone this morning?
Eros.
Who?
One ever near thee. Call for Enobarbus,
He shall not hear thee; or from Cæsar's camp
Say, “I am none of thine.”
Ant.
What say'st thou?
Sold.
Sir,
He is with Cæsar.
Eros.
Sir, his chests and treasure
He has not with him.
Ant.
Is he gone?
Sold.
Most certain.
Ant.
Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it,
Detain no jot, I charge thee. Write to him,
I will subscribe, gentle adieus, and greetings.
Say, that I wish he never find more cause
To change a master. Oh, my fortunes have
Corrupted honest men! 3 note
Dispatch, my Eros.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Changes to Cæsar's Camp.
Enter Cæsar, Agrippa, with Enobarbus, and Dolabella.
Cæs.
Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight:
4 noteOur will is, Antony be took alive;
Make it so known.
-- 209 --
Agr.
Cæsar, I shall.
Cæs.
The time of universal Peace is near.
Prove this a prosp'rous day, the three-nook'd world
5 noteShall bear the olive freely.
Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
Mark Antony is come into the field.
Cæs.
Go, charge Agrippa,
Plant those that have revolted in the Van,
That Antony may seem to spend his fury
Upon himself.
[Exeunt.
Eno.
Alexas did revolt, and went to Jewry on
Affairs of Antony; there did 6 notepersuade
Great Herod to incline himself to Cæsar,
And leave his master Antony; for this pains,
Cæsar hath hang'd him: Canidius, and the rest,
That fell away, have entertainment, but
No honourable trust. I have done ill,
Of which I do accuse myself so sorely,
That I will joy no more.
Enter a Soldier of Cæsar's.
Sold.
Enobarbus, Antony
Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with
His bounty over-plus. The messenger
-- 210 --
Came on my guard, and at thy tent is now
Unloading of his mules.
Eno.
I give it you.
Sold.
Mock not, Enobarbus.
I tell you true. Best, you safed the bringer
Out of the host, I must attend mine office,
Or would have done 't myself. Your Emperor
Continues still a Jove.
[Exit.
Eno.
I am alone the villain of the earth,
And feel, I am so most. O Antony,
Thou Mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid
My better service, when my turpitude
Thou dost so crown with gold! 7 note
This blows my heart;
If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean
Shall out-strike thought; but thought will do't, I feel.
I fight against thee!—No, I will go seek
Some ditch, where I may die; the foul'st best fits
My latter part of life.
[Exit.
SCENE VII.
Before the Walls of Alexandria.
Alarm. Drums and Trumpets. Enter Agrippa.
Agr.
Retire, we have engag'd ourselves too far:
Cæsar himself has work, 8 note
and our oppression
-- 211 --
Exceeds what we expected.
[Exit.
Alarm. Enter Antony, and Scarus wounded.
Scar.
O my brave Emperor! this is fought indeed;
Had we done so at first, we had droven them home
With clouts about their heads.
Ant.
Thou bleed'st apace.
Scar.
I had a wound here that was like a T,
But now 'tis made an H.
Ant.
They do retire.
Scar.
We'll beat 'em into bench-holes; I have yet
Room for six scotches more.
Enter Eros.
Eros.
They're beaten, Sir, and our advantage serves
For a fair victory.
Scar.
Let us score their backs,
And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind;
'Tis sport to maul a runner.
Ant.
I will reward thee
Once for thy sprightly comfort, and ten-fold
For thy good valour. Come thee on.
Scar.
I'll halt after.
[Exeunt.
Alarm. Enter Antony again in a March, Scarus with others.
Ant.
We've beat him to his camp; 9 note
run one before,
And let the Queen know of our Guests. To-morrow,
-- 212 --
Before the sun shall see's, we'll spill the blood
That has to-day escap'd. I thank you all;
For doughty-handed are you, and have fought
Not as you serv'd the cause, but as 't had been
Each man's like mine; you have shewn all Hectors.
Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends,
Tell them your feats, whilst they with joyful tears
Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss
The honour'd gashes whole. Give me thy hand,
[To Scarus.
Enter Cleopatra.
1 noteTo this great Fairy I'll commend thy acts,
Make her thanks bless thee. O thou day o' th' world,
Chain mine arm'd neck; leap thou, attire and all,
Through proof of harness, to my heart, and there
Ride on the pants triumphing.
Cleo.
Lord of Lords!
Oh, infinite virtue! com'st thou smiling from
The world's great snare uncaught?
Ant.
My nightingale!
We've beat them to their beds. What! Girl, though gray
Do something mingle with our younger brown,
Yet ha' we a brain that nourishes our nerves,
And can 2 noteget goal for goal of youth. Behold this man,
-- 213 --
Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand.
Kiss it, my warrior. He hath fought to-day,
As if a God in hate of mankind had
Destroyed in such a shape.
Cleo.
I'll give thee, friend,
An armour all of gold; it was a King's.
Ant.
He has deserv'd it, were it carbuncled
Like holy Phœbus' Car.—Give me thy hand;
Through Alexandria make a jolly march;
3 note
Bear our hackt targets, like the men that owe them.
Had our great palace the capacity
To camp this host, we would all sup together;
And drink carowses to the next day's fate,
Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters,
With brazen din blast you the city's ear,
Make mingle with our ratling tabourines,
That heav'n and earth may strike their sounds together,
Applauding our approach.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VIII.
Changes to Cæsar's Camp.
Enter a Sentry, and his Company. Enobarbus follows.
Sent.
If we be not reliev'd within this hour,
We must return to th' Court of Guard; the night
Is shiny, and, they say, we shall embattle
By th' second hour i' th' morn.
1 Watch.
This last day was a shrewd one to 's.
Eno.
O bear me witness, night!
2 Watch.
What man is this?
-- 214 --
1 Watch.
Stand close, and list him.
Eno.
Be witness to me, O thou blessed Moon,
When men revolted shall upon record
Bear hateful memory; poor Enobarbus did
Before thy face repent.
Sent.
Enobarbus?
3 Watch.
Peace; hark further.
Eno.
O sovereign Mistress of true melancholy,
The poisonous damp of night dispunge upon me,
That life, a very rebel to my will,
May hang no longer on me. 4 noteThrow my heart
Against the flint and hardness of my fault,
Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder,
And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony,
Nobler than my revolt is infamous,
Forgive me in thine own particular;
But let the world rank me in register
A master-leaver, and a fugitive:
Oh Antony! oh Antony!
[Dies.
1 Watch.
Let's speak to him.
Sent.
Let's hear him, for the things he speaks
May concern Cæsar.
2 Watch.
Let's do so, but he sleeps.
Sent.
Swoons rather, for so bad a prayer as his
Was never yet for sleep.
1 Watch.
Go we to him.
2 Watch.
Awake, Sir, awake, speak to us.
1 Watch.
Hear you, Sir?
Sent.
The hand of death has raught him.
[Drums afar off.
5 noteHark, how the drums demurely wake the sleepers:
Let's bear him to the Court of Guard; he is of note.
-- 215 --
Our hour is fully out.
2 Watch.
Come on then, he may recover yet.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IX.
Between the two Camps.
Enter Antony, and Scarus, with their Army.
Ant.
Their preparation is to-day by sea,
We please them not by land.
Scar.
For both, my Lord.
Ant.
I would, they'd fight i' th' fire, or in the air,
We'd fight there too. But this it is; our foot
Upon the hills adjoining to the City
Shall stay with us. Order for sea is giv'n;
6 noteThey have put forth the haven.
7 note
Where their appointment we may best discover,
And look on their endeavour.
[Exeunt.
Enter Cæsar, and his Army.
Cæs.
8 note
But being charg'd, we will be still by land,
Which, as I take't, we shall; for his best force
Is forth to man his Gallies. To the vales,
-- 216 --
And hold our best advantage.
[Exeunt.
[Alarm afar off, as at a sea-fight.
Enter Antony and Scarus.
Ant.
Yet they are not join'd.
Where yond pine stands, I shall discover all,
I'll bring thee word straight, how 'tis like to go.
[Exit.
Scar.
Swallows have built
In Cleopatra's sails their nests. The Augurs
Say, they know not—they cannot tell—look grimly,
And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony
Is valiant, and dejected; and by starts,
His fretted fortunes give him hope and fear,
Of what he has, and has not.
[Exit.
SCENE X.
Changes to the Palace in Alexandria.
Enter Antony.
Ant.
All's lost! this foul Ægyptian hath betray'd me!
My fleet hath yielded to the foe, and yonder
They cast their caps up, and carouse together
Like friends long lost. 9 noteTriple-turn'd whore! 'tis thou
Hast sold me to this Novice, and my heart
Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly:
-- 217 --
For when I am reveng'd upon my Charm,
I have done all. Bid them all fly. Be gone,
Oh, Sun, thy uprise shall I see no more:
Fortune and Antony part here, even here
Do we shake hands—all come to this!—the hearts,
1 note
That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave
Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
On blossoming Cæsar: and this pine is bark'd,
That over-topt them all. Betray'd I am.
Oh, this false soul of Ægypt! 2 notethis grave Charm,
Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home,
Whose bosom was my Crownet, my chief end,
Like a right Gipsy, hath at fast and loose
Beguil'd me 3 noteto the very heart of loss.
What, Eros, Eros!
Enter Cleopatra.
Ah! thou spell! avant.—
Cleo.
Why is my Lord enrag'd against his Love!
Ant.
Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving,
And blemish Cæsar's Triumph. Let him take thee,
And hoist thee up to the shouting Plebeians;
-- 218 --
Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot
Of all thy sex. 4 note
Most monster-like, be shewn
For poor'st diminutives, for dolts; and let
Patient Octavia plough thy visage up
5 noteWith her prepared nails. 'Tis well, thou'rt gone;
[Exit Cleopatra.
If it be well to live. But better 'twere,
Thou fell'st into my fury; for one death
Might have prevented many. Eros, hoa!
The shirt of Nessus is upon me; teach me,
Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage.
6 note
Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' th' Moon,
And with those hands that graspt the heaviest club,
Subdue my worthiest self. The Witch shall die;
To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall
Under his plot: she dies for't. Eros, hoa!
[Exit.
Re-enter Cleopatra, Charmion, Iras, and Mardian.
Cleo.
Help me, my women! oh, he is more mad
Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly
Was never so imbost.
Char.
To th' monument,
-- 219 --
There lock yourself, and send him word you're dead
The soul and body rive not more in parting,
Than Greatness going off.
Cleo.
To th' Monument:
Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself;
Say, that the last I spoke was Antony;
And word it, pr'ythee, piteously. Hence, Mardian,
And bring me how he takes my death. To th' Monument.
[Exeunt.
SCENE XI.
Re-enter Antony, and Eros.
Ant.
Eros, thou yet behold'st me.
Eros.
Ay, noble Lord.
Ant.
Sometime, we see a cloud that's dragonish;
A vapour, sometime, like a bear, or lion,
A tower'd 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'st seen these signs,
They are black Vesper's pageants.
Eros.
Ay, my Lord.
Ant.
That, which is now a horse, ev'n with a thought
The Rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct
As water is in water.
Eros.
It does, my Lord.
Ant.
My good knave, Eros, now thy Captain is
Ev'n such a body; here I'm Antony,
Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave.
I made these wars for Ægypt; and the Queen,
Whose heart, I thought, I had, for she had mine;
(Which, whilst it was mine, had annex'd unto't
A million more, now lost!) she, Eros, has
-- 220 --
7 note
Pack'd cards with Cæsar, and false play'd my Glory
Unto an enemy's triumph.—
Nay, weep not, gentle Eros, there is left us
Ourselves to end ourselves.
Enter Mardian.
Oh, thy vile Lady!
Sh' has robb'd me of my sword.
Mar.
No, Antony,
My Mistress lov'd thee, and her fortunes mingled
With thine intirely.
Ant.
Hence, saucy Eunuch, peace. She hath betray'd me,
And she shall die the death.
Mar.
Death of one person can be paid but once,
And that she has discharg'd. What thou wouldst do,
Is done unto thy hand; the last she spake
Was, Antony! most noble Antony!
Then in the midst a tearing Groan did break
The name of Antony; it was divided
Between her heart and lips; she rendred life,
Thy name so buried in her.
Ant.
Dead then?
Mar.
Dead.
Ant.
Unarm me, Eros, the long day's task is done,
And we must sleep.—That thou depart'st hence safe,
-- 221 --
Does pay thy labour richly. Go.
[Exit Mardian.
Off, pluck off;—
The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep
8 note
The battery from my heart. Oh cleave, my sides!
Heart, once be stronger than thy continent,
Crack thy frail case!—apace, Eros, apace.
No more a Soldier—Bruised pieces, go;
[Unarming himself.
You have been nobly borne.—From me a while—
[Exit Eros.
I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
Weep for my pardon. So 't must be, for now
All length is torture. Since the torch is out,
Lie down and stray no further. Now all labour
Marrs what it does, yea, very force entangles
Itself with strength; 9 note
seal then, and all is done.
Eros!—I come, my Queen—Eros!—Stay for me,
Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand,
And with our sprightly port make the Ghosts gaze;
Dido and her Æneas shall want troops,
And all the haunt be ours—Come, Eros, Eros!
Enter Eros.
Eros.
What would my Lord?
Ant.
Since Cleopatra died,
I've liv'd in such dishonour, that the Gods
-- 222 --
Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword
Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back,
With ships, made cities, condemn myself, to lack
The courage of a woman; less noble-minded
Than she, which, by her death, our Cæsar tells,
“I'm conqueror of myself.” Thou art sworn, Eros,
That when the exigent should come, which now
Is come indeed, when I should see behind me
Th' inevitable prosecution of disgrace
And horror, that on my command thou then
Wouldst kill me. Do it, for the time is come.
Thou strik'st not me, 'tis Cæsar thou defeat'st.
Put colour in thy cheek.
Eros.
The Gods with-hold me!
Shall I do that, which all the Parthian darts,
Though enemy, lost aim, and could not?
Ant.
Eros,
Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome, and see
Thy master thus with 1 notepleacht arms, bending down
His corrigible neck, his face subdu'd
To penetrative shame: whilst the wheel'd seat
Of fortunate Cæsar, drawn before him, branded
2 noteHis baseness that ensued?
Eros.
I would not see 't.
Ant.
Come then; for with a wound I must be cur'd.
Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn
Most useful for thy Country.
Eros.
Oh, Sir, pardon me.
Ant.
When I did make thee free, swor'st thou not then
To do this when I bade thee? do it at once,
Or thy precedent services are all
But accidents unpurpos'd. Draw, and come.
Eros.
Turn from me then that noble countenance,
-- 223 --
Wherein 3 notethe worship of the whole world lies.
Ant.
Lo thee.—
[Turning from him.
Eros.
My sword is drawn.
Ant.
Then let it do at once
The thing why thou hast drawn it.
Eros.
My dear Master,
My Captain, and my Emp'ror! Let me say,
Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewel.
Ant.
'Tis said, man,—and farewel.
Eros.
Farewel, great Chief. Shall I strike now?
Ant.
Now, Eros.
Eros.
Why, there then—
[Eros kills himself.
Thus do I escape the sorrow
Of Antony's death.
[Dies.
Ant.
Thrice nobler than myself!
Thou teachest me, oh, valiant Eros, what
I should, and thou couldst not. My Queen and Eros
Have by their brave instruction got upon me
A Nobleness in Record, but I will be
A Bridegroom in my death, and run into't
As to a Lover's bed. Come then; and, Eros,
Thy Master dies thy Scholar; to do thus
[Falling on his sword.
I learnt of thee. How, not yet dead? not dead?—
The Guard—ho!—oh, dispatch me.
SCENE XII.
Enter Dercetas, and Guard.
1 Guard.
What's the noise?
Ant.
I've done my work ill, friends:
O, make an end of what I have begun.
2 Guard.
The star is fall'n.
-- 224 --
1 Guard.
And time is at his period!
All.
Alas, and woe!
Ant.
Let him, that loves me, strike me dead.
1 Guard.
Not I.
2 Guard.
Nor I.
3 Guard.
Nor any one.
[Exeunt.
Der.
Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly.
This sword but shewn to Cæsar, with this tidings,
Shall enter me with him.
Enter Diomedes.
Dio.
Where's Antony?
Der.
There, Diomed, there.
Dio.
Lives he? Wilt thou not answer, man?
Ant.
Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me
Sufficing strokes for death.
Dio.
Most absolute Lord,
My Mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.
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 dispos'd with Cæsar; and that your rage
Would not be purg'd, she sent 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, hoa! the Emperor's Guard. The Guard, what, hoa!
Come. Your Lord calls.
-- 225 --
Enter a Guard.
Ant.
Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra 'bides,
'Tis the last service that I shall command you.
Guard.
Woe, woe are we, Sir! you may not live to wear
All your true follow'rs 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.
Changes to a magnificent Monument.
Enter Cleopatra, Charmion, and Iras above.
Cleo.
Oh Charmion, 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
As that which makes it.
Enter Diomedes.
How now? is he dead?
Dio.
His death's upon him, but not dead.
Look out o' th' other side your Monument,
His guard have brought him thither.
-- 226 --
Enter Antony, borne by the Guard.
Cleo.
4 note
O thou Sun,
Burn the great Sphere thou mov'st in!—darkling stand
The varying shore o' th' world! O Antony!
Antony, Antony!
Help, Charmion; help, Iras, help; help, friends
Below; let's draw him hither.
Ant.
Peace.
Not Cæsar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself.
Cleo.
So it should be, that none but Antony
Should conquer Antony; but, woe 'tis so!
Ant.
I am dying, Ægypt, dying; only yet
5 note
I here importune death a while, untill
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay upon thy lips,—
Cleo.
I dare not, dear,
Dear, my Lord, pardon, I dare not,
-- 227 --
Lest I be taken. Not th' imperious shew
Of the full fortun'd 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 6 notestill conclusion, shall acquire no honour
Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony.
Help me, my women. We must draw thee up—
Assist, good friends.
Ant.
Oh, quick, or I am gone.
Cleo.
7 noteHere'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'd-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up,
And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little—
Wishers were ever fools. Oh come, come, come—
[They draw Antony up to Cleopatra.
And welcome, welcome. Die, where thou hast liv'd.
-- 228 --
8 noteQuicken with kissing. Had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.
All.
O heavy sight!
Ant.
I am dying, Ægypt, 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 9 notehuswife Fortune break her wheel,
Provok'd by my offence.
Ant.
One word, sweet Queen.
Of Cæsar seek your honour with your safety—oh—
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 liv'd the greatest prince o' th' 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—
[Antony dies.
Cleo.
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 stye? O see, my women!
The crown o' th' earth doth melt—my Lord!
Oh, wither'd is the garland of the war,
1 noteThe soldier's pole is fall'n; young boys and girls
Are level now with men; the odds is gone;
-- 229 --
And there is nothing left remarkable,
Beneath the visiting moon.
[She faints.
Char.
Oh, quietness, Lady!
Iras.
She's dead too; our sovereign.
Char.
Lady!
Iras.
Madam!
Char.
Oh Madam, Madam, Madam—
Iras.
Royal Ægypt! Empress!
Char.
2 note
Peace, Peace, Iras.
-- 230 --
Cleo.
No more but in 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 scepter at th' injurious Gods;
To tell them, that this world did equal theirs,
'Till they had stol'n 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, Charmion?
My noble girls?—ah, women, women; look,
Our lamp is spent, it's out—Good Sirs, take heart,
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, bearing off Antony's body.
-- 231 --
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
