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i Guard. 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.

[blocks in formation]

Enter above, CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS.
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.

O thou sun,

Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in!—darklingo

stand
The varying shore o'the world !— Antony!
Antony, Antony!-Charmian, help; help, Iras;
Help, friends below; let's draw him hither.
Ant.

Peace:
Not Cæsar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
But Antony's hath triumphed on itself.

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

Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying; on
I here importune death a while, until
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 show
Of the full-fortun'd Cæsar ever shall
Be brooch'd with me;' jf knife, drugs, serpents, have
Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe:
Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes,
And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour
Demuring 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. Cleo. Here's sport, indeed !-How heavy weighs

my lord!

2

darkling - ) i. e. without light. | Be brooch'd with me;] Be brooch'd, i. e. adorn'd. A brooch was an ornament formerly worn in the hat.

still conclusion,j Sedate determination; silent coolness of resolution.

Here's sport, indeed!] Cleopatra, perhaps, by this affected levity, this phrase which has no determined signification, only wishes to inspire Antony with cheerfulness, and encourage those who are engaged in the melancholy task of drawing him up into the monument.

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;—0, come, come, come;

[They draw ANTONY up.
And welcome, welcome! die, where thou hast liv'd:
Quicken with kissing;* had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.
All.

A 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 Fortune break her wheel,
Provok'd by my offence.
Ant.

One word, sweet queen: Of Cæsar seek your honour, with your safety.-0!

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, 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.

(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

Sinto heaviness,] Heaviness is here used equivocally for sorrow and weight.

Quicken with kissing ;] That is, Revice by my kiss.

No better than a stye?-0, see, my women,
The crown o'the earth doth melt:-My lord !-
0, wither'd is the garland of the war,
The soldier's poles 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 Egypt! Empress!

Char. Peace, peace, Iras.
Cleo. No more, but e'en a woman; and com-

manded
By such poor passion as the maid that milks,
And does the meanest chares.It were for me
To throw my scepter at the injurious gods;
To tell them, that this world did equal theirs,
Till they had stolen our jewel. All's but naught;
Patience is sottish; and iinpatience 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, Char-

mian? My noble girls!—Ah, women, women! look, Our lamp is spent, it's out:-Good sirs, take heart:

[To the Guard below. We'll bury him: and then, what's brave, what's noble, Let's do it after the high Roman fashion,

The soldier's pole- ) He at whom the soldiers pointed, as at a pageant held high for observation.

the meanest chares.] i. e. task-work. Hence our term chare-woman.

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; those above bearing off Antony's Body.

ACT V.

SCENE I. Cæsar's Camp before Alexandria.

Enter CÆSAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECÆNAS,

GALLUS, PROCULeius, and Others. Cæs. Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield; Being so frustrate, tell him, he mocks us by The pauses that he makes.

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 callid 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?

7 Being so frustrate,-) Frustrate, for frustrated, was the language of Shakspeare's time.

thus to us?] i, e. with a drawn and bloody sword in thy hand,

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