Cle.
Help me, my women: O, he is more mad
Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly
Was never so imbost.

Cha.
—To the monument;
There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead.
The soul and body rive not more in parting,
Than greatness going off.

Cle.
—To the monument:—
Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself;
Say, that the last I spoke was, Antony,
And word it, prythee, piteously: Hence, Mardian;
And bring me how he takes my death.—To the monument.

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