ACT IV

Sc. XV

Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe:
Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes

And still conclusion,1 shall acquire no honour
Demuring2 upon me. But come, come, Antony-
Help me, my Women-we must draw thee up ;—
Assist, good Friends.

ANT.

O, quick, or I am gone.

30

CLEO. 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 heave ANTONY aloft to Cleopatra.
And welcome, welcome! die when thou hast liv'd:
Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.

ALL.

ANT. I am dying, Egypt, dying:

A heavy sight!

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 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
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,
Not 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.

40

50

CLEO.
Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide

Noblest of Men, woo't die?

In this dull World, which in thy absence is
No better than a sty? O, see, my Women,

The Crown o' the Earth doth melt.
O, wither'd is the garland of the war,

[ANTONY dies.

My Lord!

The soldier's 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.

CHAR. O, quietness, Lady!

IRAS. She is dead too, our Sovereign.
CHAR. Lady-

IRAS. Madam

CHAR. O Madam, Madam, Madam

IRAS. Royal Egypt, Empress

CHAR. Peace, peace, Iras!

[faints.

CLEO. No more but e'en 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 sceptre at the injurious Gods;
To tell them that this World did equal their's
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, Charmian !
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.

90

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; those above bearing off

ANTONY'S body.

ACT V
Sc. I

ACT V

SCENE I. Alexandria. CESAR'S Camp.

Enter CESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECENAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and others, his Council of War.

CAS. Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;

Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks1

The pauses that he makes.

DOL.

Cæsar, I shall.

[exit.

Enter DERCETAS, with the Sword of ANTONY.

CES. 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.

CES.

What is 't thou say'st?

DER. I say, O Cæsar, Antony is dead.

CAS. The breaking of so great a thing should make

A greater crack: the round World

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.

ΙΟ

He is dead, Cæsar;

20

Not by a public 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,

1 i.e. makes a show of their futility.

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.
CES.

O Antony!

But we do lance

I have follow'd thee to this.
Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce
Have shewn to thee such a declining day,
Or look on thine; we could not stall together
In the whole World: but yet let me lament,
With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,
That thou, my brother, my competitor
In top of all design, my mate in empire,
Friend and companion in the front of war,
The arm of mine own body, and the heart

Where mine his thoughts did kindle-that our
Stars,

Unreconciliable, should divide

Our equalness to this. Hear me, good Friends-
But I will tell you at some meeter season:

Enter an Egyptian.

The business of this man looks out of him;

We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you?

EGYP. A poor Egyptian yet.1 The Queen my mistress,
Confin'd in all she has, her monument,

Of thy intents desires instruction,

40

50

ACT V
Sc. I

1 i.e. not yet a subject of Rome.

So the Gods preserve thee!

[exit.

61

CES. Come hither, Proculeius. Go, and say

We purpose her no shame give her what com

forts

The quality of her passion shall require,

Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke

She do defeat us; for her life in Rome

Would be eternal in our triumph: go,

And with your speediest bring us what she says,
And how you find of her.

PRO.

Cæsar, I shall.

[exit.

CES. Gallus, go you along. [Exit GALLUS.] Where's

CES. 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 Same. A Room in 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 Fortune's knave,

A minister of her will: and it is great
To do that thing that ends all other deeds;
Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change;