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 hast seen these signs;
They are black vesper's pageants. 9Q0967

Eros.
Ay, my lord.

Ant.
That, which is now a horse, even with a thought,
^{3 note}The rack dislimns; and makes it indistinct,
As water is in water.

Eros.
It does, my lord.

Ant.
My good knave, Eros^{4 note}

^{5 note}

Mar.
No, Antony;
My mistress lov'd thee, and her fortunes mingled
With thine entirely.

Ant.
Hence, saucy eunuch; peace;
She hath betray'd me, and shall die the death.

Mar.
Death of one person can be paid but once;
And that she hath discharg'd: What thou would'st 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 render'd life,
The name so buried in her.

Ant.
Dead then?

Mar.
Dead.

Ant.
Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done,
And we must sleep:—That thou depart'st hence safe,
Does pay thy labour richly; Go.—Off, pluck off;— [Exit Mardian.
The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep
^{6 note}
The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides!
Heart, once be stronger than thy continent^{7 note},
Crack thy frail case!—Apace, Eros, apace.—
No more a soldier:—Bruised pieces, go;
You have been nobly borne.—From me a while.— [Exit Eros.
I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
Weep for my pardon. So it 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: ^{8 note}

And all the haunt be ours.—Come, Eros, Eros! Re-enter Eros.

Eros.
What would my lord?

Ant.
Since Cleopatra dy'd,
I have liv'd in such dishonour, that the gods
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 mind
Than she, which, by her death, our Cæsar tells,
I am conqueror of myself. Thou art sworn, Eros,
That, when the exigent should come, (which now
Is come, indeed) when I should see behind me
The inevitable prosecution of
Disgrace and horror, that, on my command,
Thou then would'st kill me: do't, the time is come:
Thou strik'st not me, 'tis Cæsar thou defeat'st.
Put colour in thy cheek.

Eros.
The gods withhold me!
Shall I do that, which all the Parthian darts,
Though enemy, lost aim, and could not?

Ant.
Eros,
Would'st thou be window'd in great Rome, and see
Thy master thus ^{9 note}

To penetrative shame; whilst the wheel'd seat
Of fortunate Cæsar, drawn before him, branded
^{2 note}His 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.
O, sir, pardon me.

Ant.
When I did make thee free^{3 note}, 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,
Wherein ^{4 note}the 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 emperor! 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:—Thus do I escape the sorrow [Eros kills himself.
Of Antony's death. [Dies.

Ant.
Thrice nobler than myself!
Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what
I should, and thou could'st not. My queen and Eros
Have, by their brave instruction, got upon me
A nobleness in record: ^{1 note}


But I will be
A bridegroom in my death, and run into't
As to a lover's bed. 9Q0969 Come then; and, Eros,
Thy master dies thy scholar; to do thus [Falling on his sword.
I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead?—
The guard?—how!— 9Q0970O, dispatch me. Enter Dercetas, and Guards.

1 Guard.
What's the noise?

Ant.
I have done my work ill, friends; O, make an end
Of what I have begun.

2 Guard.
The star is fallen.

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? [Exit Dercetas.

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^{2 note} with Cæsar, and that your rage
Would not be purg'd, 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 a Guard.

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

1 Guard.
Woe, 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. A Monument. Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, and Iras, above.

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 have brought him thither.

Enter Antony, borne by the guard.

Cleo.
^{3 note}

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
^{5 note}

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 shew
Of the full-fortun'd Cæsar ever shall
Be brooch'd with me^{6 note}

Edge, sting, or operation^{7 note}

Ant.
O, quick, or I am gone,

Cleo.
^{9 note}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 to Cleopatra.
And welcome, welcome! die, where thou hast liv'd:
^{1 note}

All.
A heavy sight!

Ant.
I am dying, Ægypt, dying:
Give me some wine, and let me speak a little^{2 note}.

Cleo.
No, let me speak; and let me rail so high,
That the false ^{3 note}huswife Fortune break her wheel,
Provok'd 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^{4 note},
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,
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' the earth doth melt:—My lord!—
O, wither'd is the garland of the war,
^{5 note}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. [She faints.

Char.
O, quietness, lady!

Iras.
She is dead too, our sovereign.

Char.
Lady!

Iras.
Madam!—

Char.
O madam, madam, madam,—

Iras.
Royal Ægypt! empress!

Char.
^{6 note}

Cleo.
No more—but e'en a woman; and commanded

By such poor passion as the maid that milks,
And does the meanest chares^{7 note}

ACT V. SCENE I. Cæsar's Camp. ^{8 note}Enter Cæsar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Mecænas, Gallus, Proculeius, and train.

Cæs.
Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;
Being so frustrated, tell him, he mocks
The pauses that he makes^{9 note}.

^{1 note}Dol.
Cæsar, I shall. [Exit Dolabella.

Enter Dercetas, with the sword of Antony.

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

Der.
I am call'd Dercetas;
Mark Antony I serv'd, who best was worthy
Best to be serv'd: 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.

Cæs.
What is't thou say'st?

Der.
I say, O Cæsar, Antony is dead.

Cæs.
The breaking of so great a thing should make
A greater crack: ^{2 note}

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 publick 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.

Cæs.
Look you sad, friends?
The gods rebuke me, ^{1 note}

Agr.
And strange it is,
That nature must compel us to lament
Our most persisted deeds.

Mec.
His taints and honours
^{2 note}

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.

Cæs.
O Antony!
I have follow'd thee to this;—But we do lance
Diseases in our bodies^{3 note}

Enter an Ægyptian.
The business of this man looks out of him,
We'll hear him what he says.—Whence are you?

Ægypt.
^{5 note}A poor Ægyptian yet: The queen my mistress,
Confin'd in all she has, her monument,
Of thy intents desires instruction;
That she preparedly may frame herself
To the way she's forc'd to.

Cæs.
Bid her have good heart;
She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,
How honourably and how kindly we
Determine for her: for Cæsar cannot live
To be ungentle.

Ægypt.
So the gods preserve thee! [Exit.

Cæs.
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 ^{6 note}

Pro.
Cæsar, I shall. [Exit Proculeius.

Cæs.
Gallus, go you along.—Where's Dolabella,
To second Proculeius? [Exit Gallus.

All.
Dolabella!

Cæs.
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
In all my writings: Go with me, and see
What I can shew in this. [Exeunt. SCENE II. 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 ^{7 note}fortune's knave,
A minister of her will; And it is great^{8 note}

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, below, Proculeius, Gallus, &c.

Pro.
Cæsar sends greeting to the queen of Ægypt;
And bids thee study on what fair demands

Thou mean'st to have him grant thee.

Cleo.
What's thy name?

Pro.
My name is Proculeius.

Cleo.
Antony
Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but
I do not greatly care to be deceiv'd,
That have no use for trusting. If your master
Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him,
That majesty, to keep decorum, must
No less beg than a kingdom: if he please
To give me conquer'd Ægypt for my son,
He gives me so much of mine own, as I
Will kneel to him with thanks.

Pro.
Be of good cheer;
You are fallen into a princely hand, fear nothing:
Make your full reference freely to my lord,
Who is so full of grace, that it flows over
On all that need: Let me report to him
Your sweet dependancy; and you shall find
A conqueror, ^{9 note}that will pray in aid for kindness,
Where he for grace is kneel'd to.

Cleo.
Pray you, tell him
I am his fortune's vassal, and I ^{1 note}
send him
The greatness he has got. I hourly learn
A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly
Look him i' the face.

Pro.
This I'll report, dear lady.
Have comfort; for, I know, your plight is pity'd
Of him that caus'd it.

[Aside.]
^{2 note}

Iras.
Royal queen!

Char.
O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen!—

Cleo.
Quick, quick, good hands. [Drawing a dagger. Proculeius rushes in, and disarms the queen.

Pro.
Hold, worthy lady, hold:
Do not yourself such wrong, ^{3 note}

Reliev'd, but not betray'd.

Cleo.
What, of death too, that rids our dogs of ^{4 note}

Pro.
Cleopatra,
Do not abuse our master's bounty 9Q0971, by
The undoing of yourself: let the world see
His nobleness well acted, which your death
Will never let come forth.

Cleo.
Where art thou, death?
Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen
^{5 note}Worth many babes and beggars!

Pro.
O, temperance, lady!

Cleo.
Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir;
^{6 note}

I'll not sleep neither: This mortal house I'll ruin,
Do Cæsar what he can. Know, sir, that I
Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court;
Nor once be chastis'd with the sober eye
Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up,
And shew me to the shouting varletry
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Ægypt
Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies
Blow me into abhorring! rather make
My country's high pyramides my gibbet^{7 note}

Pro.
You do extend
These thoughts of horror further than you shall
Find cause in Cæsar. Enter Dolabella.

Dol.
Proculeius,
What thou hast done thy master Cæsar knows,
And he hath sent for thee: as for the queen,
I'll take her to my guard.

Pro.
So, Dolabella,
It shall content me best: be gentle to her.—
To Cæsar I will speak what you shall please, [To Cleopatra.
If you'll employ me to him.

Cleo.
Say, I would die. [Exit Proculeius.

Dol.
Most noble empress, you have heard of me?

Cleo.
I cannot tell.

Dol.
Assuredly, you know me.

Cleo.
No matter, sir, what I have heard, or known.
You laugh, when boys, or women, tell their dreams;
Is't not your trick?

Dol.
I understand not, madam.

Cleo.
I dream'd, there was an emperor Antony;—
O, such another sleep, that I might see
But such another man!

Dol.
If it might please you,—

Cleo.
His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck
^{8 note}

The little O, the earth.

Dol.
Most sovereign creature,—

Cleo.
His legs bestrid the ocean; his rear'd arm
Crested the world: his voice was property'd
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends^{9 note}
;
But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder. 9Q0972 ^{1 note}

Dol.
Cleopatra,—

Cleo.
Think you, there was, or might be, such a man
As this I dream'd of?

Dol.
Gentle madam, no.

Cleo.
You lye, up to the hearing of the gods,
But, if there be, or ever were one such,
It's past the size of dreaming: Nature wants stuff
To vie strange forms with fancy; ^{3 note}

Dol.
Hear me, good madam:

Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it
As answering to the weight: 'Would I might never
O'ertake pursu'd success, but I do feel,
By the rebound of yours, a grief that shoots^{4 note}
My very heart at root.

Cleo.
I thank you, sir.
Know you, what Cæsar means to do with me?

Dol.
I am loth to tell you what I would you knew.

Cleo.
Nay, pray you, sir,—

Dol.
Though he be honourable,—

Cleo.
He'll lead me then in triumph?

Dol.
Madam, he will; I know it.

All.
Make way there,—Cæsar. Enter Cæsar, Gallus, Mecænas, Proculeius, and Attendants.

Cæs.
Which is the queen of Ægypt?

Dol.
It is the emperor, madam. [Cleo. kneels.

Cæs.
Arise, you shall not kneel:
I pray you, rise; rise, Ægypt.

Cleo.
Sir, the gods
Will have it thus; my master and my lord
I must obey.

Cæs.
Take to you no hard thoughts:
The record of what injuries you did us,
Though written in our flesh, we shall remember
As things but done by chance.

Cleo.
Sole sir o' the world,
^{5 note}

To make it clear; but do confess, I have
Been laden with like frailties, which before
Have often sham'd our sex.

Cæs.
Cleopatra, know,
We will extenuate rather than enforce:
If you apply yourself to our intents,
(Which towards you are most gentle) you shall find
A benefit in this change: but if you seek
To lay on me a cruelty, by taking
Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself
Of my good purposes, and put your children
To that destruction which I'll guard them from,
If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave.

Cleo.
And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we
Your 'scutcheons, and your signs of conquest, shall
Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord.

Cæs.
You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra.

Cleo.
This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels,
I am possess'd of: ^{6 note}

Not petty things admitted.—Where's Seleucus?

Sel.
Here, madam.

Cleo.
This is my treasurer; let him speak, my lord,
Upon his peril, that I have reserv'd
To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus.

Sel.
Madam,
I had rather seel my lips^{7 note}

Cleo.
What have I kept back?

Sel.
Enough to purchase what you have made known.

Cæs.
Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve
Your wisdom in the deed.

Cleo.
See, Cæsar! O, behold,
How pomp is follow'd! mine will now be yours;
And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine.
The ingratitude of this Seleucus does
Even make me wild:—O slave, of no more trust
Than love that's hir'd!—What, goest thou back? thou shalt
Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes,
Though they had wings: Slave, soul-less villain, dog!
O rarely base^{8 note}!

Cæs.
Good queen, let us intreat you.

Cleo.
O Cæsar, what a wounding shame is this^{9 note};

That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me,
Doing the honour of thy lordliness
To one so meek, that mine own servant should
^{1 note}Parcel the sum of my disgraces by
Addition of his envy! Say, good Cæsar,
That I some lady trifles had reserv'd,
Immoment toys, things of such dignity
As we greet modern friends withal; and say,
Some nobler token I have kept apart
For Livia, and Octavia, to induce
Their mediation; must I be unfolded
With one that I have bred? The gods! It smites me
Beneath the fall I have. Pr'ythee, go hence; [To Seleucus.
Or I shall shew the cinders of my spirits
^{2 note}

Thou would'st have mercy on me.

Cæs.
Forbear, Seleucus. [Exit Seleucus.

Cleo.
^{9 note}

For things that others do; and, when we fall,
We answer others' merits in our names,
Are therefore to be pitied.

Cæs.
Cleopatra,
Not what you have reserv'd, nor what acknowledg'd,
Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be it yours,
Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe,
Cæsar's no merchant, to make prize with you
Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd;
^{1 note}

Cleo.
My master, and my lord!

Cæs.
Not so: Adieu. [Exeunt Cæsar, and his train.

Cleo.
He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not
Be noble to myself: But hark thee, Charmian. [Whispers Charmian.

Iras.
Finish, good lady; the bright day is done,
And we are for the dark.

Cleo.
Hie thee again:
I have spoke already, and it is provided;
Go put it to the haste.

Char.
Madam, I will.

Re-enter Dolabella.

Dol.
Where is the queen?

Char.
Behold, sir. [Exit Charmian.

Cleo.
Dolabella?

Dol.
Madam, as thereto sworn by your command,
Which my love makes religion to obey,
I tell you this: Cæsar through Syria
Intends his journey; and, within three days,
You with your children will he send before:
Make your best use of this: I have perform'd
Your pleasure, and my promise.

Cleo.
Dolabella,
I shall remain your debtor.

Dol.
I your servant.
Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Cæsar. [Exit.

Cleo.
Farewel, and thanks. Now, Iras, what think'st thou?
Thou, an Ægyptian puppet, shalt be shewn
In Rome, as well as I: mechanic slaves
With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall
Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths,
Rank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded,
And forc'd to drink their vapour.

Iras.
The gods forbid!

Cleo.
Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: Saucy lictors
Will catch at us, like strumpets; and ^{2 note}

Some squeaking Cleopatra ^{4 note}

Iras.
O, the good gods!

Cleo.
Nay, that's certain.

Iras.
I'll never see it; for, I am sure, my nails
Are stronger than mine eyes.

Cleo.
Why, that's the way
To fool their preparation, and to conquer
^{5 note}

Enter one of the Guard.

Guard.
Here is a rural fellow,
That will not be deny'd your highness' presence;
He brings you figs.

Cleo.
Let him come in. What a poor instrument [Exit Guard.
May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty.
My resolution's plac'd, and I have nothing
Of woman in me: Now from head to foot
I am marble-constant: ^{6 note}

Guard.
This is the man.

Cleo.
Avoid, and leave him. [Exit Guard.
Hast thou ^{7 note}

That kills and pains not?

Clown.

Truly I have him: but I would not be the party that should desire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal; those, that do die of it, do seldom or never recover.

Cleo.

Remember'st thou any that have dy'd on't?

Clown.

Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, but something given to lye; as a woman should not do, but in the way of honesty: how she dy'd of the biting of it, what pain she felt,—Truly, she makes a very good report o' the worm: ^{8 note}

Cleo.

Get thee hence; farewel.

Clown.

I wish you all joy of the worm.

Cleo.

Farewel.

Clown.

You must think this, look you, that the worm ^{9 note}