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.

SCENE XIII.

The Same. A Monument.

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, below, 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, below, ANTONY, borne by the Guard.

Cleo. O sun,

Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in!-darkling stand The varying shore o' th' world. O Antony, Antony, Antony!

Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help: help, friends

Below; let's draw him hither.

Ant.

Peace!

6 Enter, above, Cleopatra, &c.] We are to suppose Cleopatra in her tomb, and elevated at the back of the stage.

Not Cæsar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself.
Cleo. So it should be, that none but Antony
Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so!
Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
I here importune death a while, until
Of many thousand kisses the

I lay upon thy lips.

Cleo.

poor last

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; if 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!

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.
Wishers were ever fools.-O!

Yet come a little,

come, come, come;
[They draw ANTONY up.

And welcome, welcome! die, when thou hast liv'd':

Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power,

Thus would I wear them out.

7

All.

A heavy sight.

Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying.

die, WHEN thou hast liv'd:] All the old copies have "when," which Pope altered to where,-" Die where thou hast liv'd ;" but the sense seems to be, "Die when thou hast liv'd" in consequence of being quickened, or restored, by my kissing thee. All modern editors have adopted Pope's needless change.

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.

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
No better than a stye?-O! see, my women,
The crown o' the earth doth melt.—My lord!
O! wither'd is the garland of the war,

The soldier's pole 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.

Char.

Iras. She is dead too, our sovereign.

Char.

Iras.

[Dies.

O, quietness, lady!

Char. O madam, madam, madam!

Iras.

Empress!

VOL. VIII.

I

Char. Peace, peace, Iras!

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 theirs, Till they had stolen 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:
[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,

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.

99

"but

8 No more, but E'EN a woman;] i. e. I am "no more an empress, a mere woman." The sense fully justifies Johnson's emendation of the reading of all anterior editions, "but in a woman." Many instances might be pointed out, were they necessary, in which "e'en" has been misprinted in in the old copies, not only of Shakespeare's plays, but of those of his contemporaries. 9 the meanest CHARES.] "Chare" is a word of uncertain etymology, but in constant use in the time of Shakespeare. We still retain it in the compound "chare-woman.' It is sometimes spelt char. The sense sufficiently explains its meaning. Cleopatra again uses the word in Act v. sc. 2.

ACT V. SCENE I.

CAESAR'S Camp before Alexandria.

Enter CESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECÆNAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and Others1.

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

Being so frustrate, tell him,

He mocks us by the pauses that he makes2.

Dol. Cæsar, I shall.

[Exit DOLABELLA.

Enter DERCETAS, with the Sword of ANTONY.

Cas. 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.

Cæs.

What is't thou say'st? Der. I say, O Cæsar! Antony is dead.

Cæs. The breaking of so great a thing should make A greater crack: the round world should have shook

"Enter

Proculeius, and Others.] The old stage-direction runs thus:Cæsar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Menas, with his Council of war." It seems evident that Menas is a misprint for Mecanas, and the name (as Thirlby pointed out) is printed Mec. in the prefixes, which of itself detects the error.

66

2 He mocks US BY the pauses that he makes.] The old copies omit us by," which were added by Malone, and which we adopt, because they, or some equivalent words, are necessary to the sense, as well as to the measure, which is regulated according to the folio, 1623.