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. Cleo. Enter ANTONY borne by the Guard. O thou sun, Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in!-darkling' stand The varying shore o'the world !—O Antony ! Ant. Peace: Cleo. So it should be, that none but Antony 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; 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, And welcome, welcome! die, where thou hast liv'd: 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.-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, 3 Sedate determination, 4 Revive. In feeding them with those my former fortunes Valiantly vanquish'd. Now, my spirit is going; Cleo. Noblest of men, woo't die? In this dull world, which in thy absence is [Dies. 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. [She faints. O, quietness, lady! Char. Peace, peace, Iras. Cleo. No more, but e'en a woman; manded and com By such poor passion as the maid that milks, 6 Task-work. Till they had stolen our jewel. All's but naught; 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, We'll bury him: and then, what's brave, what's noble, [Exeunt; those above bearing off ANTONY's Body. ACT V. SCENE I. Cæsar's Camp before Alexandria. Enter CESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECENAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and Others. Cas. Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield; Being so frustrate,7 tell him, he mocks us by The pauses that he makes.8 Dol. Cæsar, I shall. [Exit DOLABELLA. Enter DERCETAS, with the Sword of ANTONY. Cas. Wherefore is that? and what art thou, that dar'st 7 Frustrated. He trifles with us. Appear thus to us? Der. I am call'd Dercetas ; Mark Antony I serv'd, who best was worthy To take me to thee, as I was to him Cæs. 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. He is dead, Cæsar; Not by a publick 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, Splitted the heart.-This is his sword, I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd With his most noble blood. Cæs. The gods rebuke me, but it is a tidings To wash the eyes of kings. Agr. Look you sad, friends? And strange it is, That nature must compel us to lament Our most persisted deeds. Mec. His taints and honours |