Wishers were everfools. Oh come, come, come-
[They draw Antony up to Cleopatra...
And welcome, welcome. Die where thou haft liv'd.
Quicken with kiffing, Had my lips that power,.

Thus would I wear them out.

All. O heavy fight!

Aut. I am dying, Egypt, dying.

Give me fome wine, and let me fpeak a little. Cleo. No, let me fpeak, and let me rail fo high, That the falfe hufwife Fortune break her wheel, Provok'd by my offence.

Ant One word, fweet Queen..

Of Cæfar feek your honour with your fafety-oh--Cleo. They do not go together.

Ant. Genile, hear me.

None about Cæfar truft but Proculeius.

Cleo. My refolution and my hands I'll trust;
None about Cæfar.

Ant. The miferable change, now at my end,
Lament nor forrow at, but please your thoughts
In feeding them with thofe my former fortunes,
Wherein I liv'd the greatest prince o' th' world,
The nobleft; and do now not bafely die,
Nor cowardly put off my helmet, to

My countryman, a Roman by a Roman
Valiantly vanquifh'd. Now my spirit is going;
[Antony dies..

I can no more.

Cleo. Nobleft of men, woo 't die?
Haft thou no care of me? fhall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy abfence is
•No better than a ftye? O fee, my women
The crown o' th' earth doth melt-my Lord!
Oh, wither'd is the garland of the war,

The foldier'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. Oh, quietnefs, lady!

Fras. She's dead too; our fovereign.

Char. Lady!

Iras. Madam!

Char. Oh madam, madam, madam

[She faints

Iras. Royal Egypt! Emprefs!

Char. Peace, peace, Iras.

Cleo. No more but in a woman * and commanded By fuch poor paffion as the maid that milks, And does the meanest chares !-It were for me To throw my fceptre at th' injurious gods ; To tell them that this world did equal theirs, 'Till they had ftol'n our jewel. All's but naught. Patience is fottifh, and impatience does Become a dog that's mad. Then is it fin

To rush into the fecret houfe of death,

Ere death dare come to us? how do you, women? What, what? Good cheer! Why, how now, Char

mian?

My noble girls!-ah, women, women; look,

Our lamp is fpent, 'tis out-Good firs, 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 cafe of that huge fpirit now is cold.

Ah, women, women! come, we have no friend
But refolution and the briefeft end.

[Exeunt bearing eff Antony's body.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Cæfar's Camp.

Enter Cæfar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Mecenas Gallus,

and train.

Cafar.

G

O to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;

Being fo fruftrate, tell him.

He mocks the pauses that he makes.

Dol. Cæfar, I fhall.

No more but e'en a woman.

[Exit Dolabella.

I have no more of my wanted greatness, but am even a i woman on the level with other women, Johnson.

Enter Dercetas, with the Sword of Antony.

Caf. Wherefore is that? and what art thou, that Appear thus to us?

Der. I am call'd Dercetas;

Mark Antony I ferv'd, who beft was worthy

[dar'ft

Beft to be ferv'd: whilft 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
141 be to Cæfar: if thou pleasest not,
I yield thee up my life.

Caf. What is't thou fay'st?

Der. I fay, ah Cæfar, Antony is dead.

Caf. The breaking of fo great a thing should make

A greater crack. The round world fhould have

Lions into civil ftreets and citizens

Into their dens―The death of Antony

Is not a fingle doom, in that name lay
A moiety of the world.

Der. He is dead, Cefar,

Not by the public. minifter of juftice,

Nor by a hired knife; but that self-hand,

Which writ his honour in the acts it did,

[Chook

Hath with the courage which the heart did lend it
Splitted the heart. This is his fword,

I robb'd his wound of it: behold it ftain'd
With his moft noble blood.

Caf. Look you fad, friends?

The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings:

To wash the eyes of kings!

Agr. And ftrange it is,

That nature must compel us to lament

Our most perfifted deeds.

Mec. His taints and honours

Waged equal in him.

Agr. A rarer fpirit never

Did fteer humanity; but you gods will give us.

Some faults to make us men.

Cæfar is touch'd.

Mec. When fuch a fpacious mirror's fet before.

He needs muft fee himself...

[him

Cef. O Antony!

I've follow'd thee to this- -but we do lance
Diseases in our bodies. I mult perforce
Have fhewn to thee fuch a declining day,
Or look on thine; we could not stall together
In the whole world. But yet let me lament
With tears as fovereign as the blood of hearts
That thou my brother, my competitor
In top of all defign, my mate in empire,
Friend and companion in the front of war,
The arm of mine own body, and the heart
Where mine its thoughts did kindle; that our stars,
Unreconcileable, fhould have divided

Our equalnels to this *. Hear me, good friends—
But I will tell you at fome meeter feafon.

Enter an Egyptian.

The bufinefs of this man looks out of him,
We'll hear him what he lays.-Whence are you?
Egypt. A poor gyptian yet; the Queen my
Confin'd in all the has, her monument,

Of thy intents defires instruction;

That the preparedly may frame herself
To th' way he's forc'd to.

Caf. Bid her have good heart;

[mistress,

She foon fhall know of us, by fome of ours,
How honourably and how kindly we

Determine for her. For Cæfar cannot live,
To be ungentle.

Egypt. So the Gods preferve thee!

[Exit.

Caf. Come hither, Proculeius: go, and fav,

We purpofe her no fhame; give her what comforts.
The quality of her paflion thall require ;
Left in her greatnefs by fome mortal flroke
She do defeat us: for her life in Rome
Would be eternal in our triumph. Go,

And with your fpeedieft bring us what the fays,
And how you find of her.

Pro. Cæfar, I fhall.

[Exit Proculeius.

That is, fhould have made us, in our equality of fortune, difagree to a pitch like this, that one of us must die.

Caf. Gallus, go you along.-Where's Dolabella, To fecond Proculeius?

All. Dolabella!

[Exit Gallus.

Caf. Let him alone; for I remember now
How he's employ'd; he fhall in time be ready.
Go with me to my tent, where you fhall fee
How hardly I was drawn into this war;
How calm and gentle I proceeded still
In all my writings. Go with me, and fee
What I can fhew in this.

[Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, Mardian and Seleucus, above.

Cleo. My defolation does begin to make
A better life;''tis paltry to be Cæfar:
Not being fortune, he's but fortune's knave,
A minifter of her will, and it is great

To do that thing that ends all other deeds;
Which thackles accidents, and. bolts up change;
Which fleeps, and never palates more the dung;
The beggar's nurse, and Cæfar's *.

Enter Proculeius.

Pro. Cæfar fends greetings to the Queen of Egypt, And bids thee ftudy on what fair demands Thou mean'ft 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 ufe for trufting. If your mafter

* That is, which fleeps, and hath no farther relish for the trash and dung of this earth, which dung is equally neceffary to the support of Cæfar as of the meaneft beggar. Revijal.