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1 Guard. Not I.
2 Guard. Not I.
Guard. Nor any one.

Der. Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers Ay.
This sword but shewn to Cæfar, with these cidings,
Shall enter me with him.

Enter Diomedes.
Dio. Where's Antony ?
Der. There, Diomed, there.
Dio. Lives he? wilt thou not 9 answer?' [me

Ant. Art thou there, Diomed? draw thy sword, and give
Sufficing strokes of death.

Dio. Most absolute Lord,
My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.

Ant. When did the send thee?
Dio. Now, my Lord.
Ant. Where is she?

Dio, Lockt in her monument.
She had, alas! a' prophesying fear
Of what hath come to pass ; for when she saw
(Which never shall be found) you did suspect
She had dispos’d with Cæfar, and that your rage
Would not be purg'd, the sent word she was dead:
But fearing since how it might work, hath sent
Me to proclaim the truth, and I am come,
I dread, too late.

Ant. Too late, good Diomed; call my guard I pr’ythee.
Dio. What, ho! the Emperor's guard. The guard, what,

Come, your Lord calls.

Enter the Guard. Ant. Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides, 'Tis the last service that I shall command you.

Guard. Woe are we, Sir, you may not live to wear All your true followers out!

All. 8 this 9 answer, man?

i had a

All. Most heavy day!

Ant. Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate To grace it with your forrows. 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,


A magnificent Monument.
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, and Iras, abové.
Cleo. Oh 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 Diomedes.
How now? is he dead?

Dio. His death's upon him, but not dead. Look out O'th'other 2 'side,' his guard have brought him hither.

Enter Antony born by the Guard. Cleo. O thou fun, 3 'Turn from the sphere thou mov'st in! darkling stand The varying shore o'th' world! O Antony ! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help; help, friends, 4 'Below there, let us draw him hither.

Ant. Peace.
Not Cæfar's valour hath o'er-thrown Antony,
But Antony hath triumpht on himself.

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

Ant. I am dying, Ægypt, dying; only yet

A a

I here 2 side your monument, 3 Burn the great sphere ... old edit, Warb, emend. 4 Below ; let's

I here importune death a while, until!
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay upon thy s 'lips. Come down.'

Cleo. I dare not,
Dear, dear my Lord, your pardon that I dare not,
Left I be taken; not th' imperious shew
Of the full-fortun'd Cæfar ever shall
Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs, serpents have
Edge, ? 'operation, or fting,' I am lafe:
Your wife O&tavia, 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
Afift, good friends.

Ant. Oh quick, or I am gone.

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, Withers were ever fools. Oh come, come, come

[They drew Antony up to Cleopatra. And welcome, welcome! Die where thou hast liv'd, Quicken with kisling; had my lips that power, Thus would I wear them out.

All. O heavy fight!

Ant. I am dying, Ægypt, dying.
Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.

Cleo. No, let me speak, and let me rail fo high,
That the false huswife Fortune break her wheel,
Provok'd by my offence.

Ant. One word, sweet Qucen.
Of Cæfar seek your honour, with your $ /safety.'

Cleo. They do not go together.

Ant. Gentle, hear me;
None about Cæfar trust, but Proculejus.

Cleo. 5 lips. ...old edit. Theob. emend. Ő I dare not, dear,

Dear my lord, pardon; I dare not, old edit. Theob, emend. 7 lting, or operation 8 safety


off my

Cleo. My resolution and my hands I'll trust,
None about Caefar.

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'th' world,
The noblest once ; and now not basely die,
Nor cowardly put

helmet to
My countryman; a Roman, by a Roman
Valiantly vanquilh’d. Now my spirit is going;
I can no more

[Antony dies.
Cleo. Nobleft of men! - woo't die?
Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy absence is
No better than a stye? O see, my women!
The crown oʻth' earth doth melt — my Lord
Oh, wither'd is the garland of the war,
The soldier's pole is falln: young boys and girls
Are level now with men ; the odds is gone,
And there is nothing left remarkable,
Beneath the viliting moon.

[She faints.
Char. Oh quietness, Lady.
Iras. She is dead too, our Sovereign.
Char. Lady!
Iras. Madam!
Char. Oh 'Madam, Madam!
Iras. Royal Ægypt! Empress !

"/Cleo. Peace, peace, Iras.
No more but a meer woman, and commanded
By such poor passion as the maid that milks,
And does the meanest chares. It were for me
To throw my scepter at th' injurious Gods,
To tell them that this world did equal theirs,
'Till they had stoll'n our jewel. All's but nought:
Patience is fortish, and impatience does
Become a dog that's mad: then is it sing

A a 2
9 Madam, madam, madam
í Char. Peace, peace, Iras.

Cleo. No more, r,


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. Come away,
This case of that huge fpirit now is cold.
Ah, women, women! come, we have no friend,
But resolution, and the briefelt end.

(Exeunt bearing off Antony's body.


Cæsar's Camp Enter Cæsar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Mecænas, Proculeius,

Gallus, and Train.


O to him, Dolabella, bid him yield,
Being so frustrate, -tell him, he but mocks!

The pauses that he makes.
Dol. Cæfar, I shall.

[Exit Dolabella.
Enter Dercetas with the sword of Antony.
Cæfar. Wherefore is that? and what art thou that dar'ft
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
l'll be to Cæfar: If thou pleasest not,
I yield thee up my life.
2 he mocks


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