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
As that which makes it.

Enter ^note, below, Diomedes.
How now! is he dead?

Dio.
His death's ^note upon him, but not ^note dead.
Look out o' the other side your monument ^note; ^note
His guard have brought him thither ^note. Enter ^note, below, Antony, borne by the Guard.

Cleo.
O sun ^note,
Burn the great ^note sphere thou movest in! darkling stand ^note
The varying shore o' the world. O Antony,
Antony, Antony! ^note Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help ^note;
Help, ^note friends below; let's ^note draw him hither. ^note

Ant.
Peace!
Not Cæsar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
But Antony's ^{note note} hath triumph'd on itself ^note. ^note

Cleo.
So it should be, that none but Antony
Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so! ^note

Ant.
I am dying, Egypt, dying ^note; ^note only ^note

I here importune death awhile, until
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay upon thy lips. ^note

Cleo.
I dare not, dear,
Dear my lord ^note, pardon, ^note I dare not, ^note
Lest I be taken: not the imperious show
Of the full-fortuned Cæsar ever shall
Be brooch'd with me; if knife ^note, drugs, serpents, have
Edge, sting, or operation ^note, I am safe:
Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes
And still conclusion ^note, shall acquire no honour
Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,—
Help me, my women,—we must draw thee up; ^note
Assist, good friends.

Ant.
O, quick, or I am gone.

Cleo.
Here's sport ^{note note} indeed! How heavy weighs my lord! ^note
Our strength is all gone into heaviness; ^note
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 ^note heave Antony aloft to Cleopatra.
And welcome, welcome! die where ^note thou hast lived:
Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.

All.
A ^note 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 ^note Fortune break her wheel,
Provoked by my offence.

Ant.
One word, sweet queen:
Of Cæsar seek your honour, with your safety. O! ^note

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 ^note greatest prince o' the world,
The noblest, and do now ^note not basely die,
Not cowardly ^note put off ^note my helmet to ^note
My countryman, a Roman by a Roman
Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going; ^note
I can no more.

Cleo.
Noblest of men, woo't ^note die?
Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy absence is
No better than a sty? O, see, my women, [Antony dies. ^note
The crown o' the ^note earth doth melt. My lord! ^note
O, wither'd is the garland of the war,

The soldier's ^note pole is fall'n: young boys and girls
Are level now with men; the odds is gone,
And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting moon. [Faints. ^note

Char.
O, quietness ^note, lady!

Iras.
She's ^note dead too, our sovereign.

Char.
Lady!

Iras.
Madam!

Char.
O madam, madam, madam! ^note

Iras.
Royal Egypt, ^note Empress! ^note

Char.
Peace, peace, Iras!

Cleo.
No ^note more, but e'en a woman ^note, and commanded
By such poor passion ^note 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 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? ^note How do you, women?
What, what! good cheer! ^note Why, how now, Charmian!
My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look, ^note
Our lamp is spent, it's out! Good sirs, take heart:
We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, what's noble ^note,
Let's do it ^note 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 ^note; those above bearing off Antony's body.

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