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A vapour, sometime, like a bear, or lion,
A tower'd citadel, a pendant rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory o
With trees upon't, that nod unto the wind,
And mock our eyes with air: Thou hast seen these
They o vesper's pageants.
Eros. Ay, my lord.
Ant. That, which is now a horse, even with a
The rack dislimns; and makes it indistinct,
As water is in water.
Eros. It does, my lord.
Ant. My good knave, Eros, now thy captain is
Even such a body: Here I am, Antony;
Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave.
I made these wars for Egypt: and the queen,_
Whose heart, I thought I had, for she had mine:
Which, whilst it was mine, had annex'd unto’t
A million more, now lost,-she, Eros, has
Pack'd card with Caesar, and false-play'd my glory "
Unto an enemy's triumph.
Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us
Ourselves to end ourselves.—O, thy vile lady!
She has robb'd me of my sword.
Mar. No, Antony;
My mistress lov'd thee, and her fortunes mingled
With thine entirely.
Ant. Hence, saucy eunuch; peace;
She hath betray'd me, and shall die the death.
Mar. Death of one person can be paid but once;
And that she hath discharg’d: What thou wouldst do,
Is done unto thy hand; the last she spake
Was, Antony most noble Antony!
Then in the midst a tearing groan did break
The name of Antony; it was divided
Between her heart and lips: she render'd life,
Thy name so bury'd in her.
Ant. Dead then
Ant. Unarm me, Eros; the long day's task is
And we must sleep:—That thou depart'st hence safe,
Does pay thy labour richly; Go.—[Erit MAR.]
The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep
The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides!
Heart, once be stronger than thy continent,
Crack thy frail case!—Apace, Eros, apace.—
No more a soldier: Bruised pieces, go;
You have been nobly borne.—From me a while.
I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now
All length is torture; since the torch is out,
Lie down, and stray no farther: Now all labour
Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles
Itself with strength : Seal then, and all is done.—
Eros —I come, my queen:—Eros 1–Stay for me:
Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand;
And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze:
Dido and her Æneas shall want troops,
And all the haunt be ours.-Come, Eros, Eros.
Eros. What would my lord
Ant. Since Cleopatra dy'd, I have liv'd in such dishonour, that the gods Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back With ships made cities, condemn myself, to lack The courage of a woman; less noble-minded Than she, which by her death, our Caesar tells, I am conqueror of myself. Thou art sworn, Eros,
That, when the exigent should come, (which now
Is come, indeed) when I should see behind me
The inevitable prosecution of
Disgrace and horror, that, on my command,
Thou then wouldst kill me: do’t, the time is come :
Thou strik'st not me, ’tis Caesar thou defeat'st.
Put colour in thy cheek. -
, Eros. The gods withhold me !
Shall I do that, which all the Parthian darts,
Though enemy, lost aim, and could not
Wouldst thou be window’d in great Rome, and see
Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down
His corrigible neck, his face subdu'd
To penetrative shame; whilst the wheel'd seat
Offortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded
His baseness that ensu’d
Eros. I would not see’t.
Ant. Come, then; for with a wound I must be
Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn
Most useful for thy country.
Eros. O sir, pardon me.
Ant. When I did make thee free, swor'st thou not
then . - -
To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once;
Or thy precedent services are all
But accidents unpurpos'd. Draw, and come.
Eros. Turn from me then that noble countenance,
Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.
Ant. Lo thee, [Turning away his Face.
Eros. My sword is drawn.
Ant. Then let it do at once
The thing why thou hast drawn it.
Eros. My dear master,
My captain, and my emperor, let me say,
Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.
Ant. "Tis said, man; and farewell.
Eros. Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now Ant. Now, Eros. Eros. Why, there then: [Falling on his Sword.] Thus I do escape the sorrow Of Antony's death. - [Dies. Ant. Thrice nobler than myself! Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros Have, by their brave instruction, got upon me A nobleness in record : But I will be A bridegroom in my death, and run into't As to a lover's bed. Come, then; [Taking ERos’ Sword.] and, Eros, Thy master dies thy scholar; to do thus [Running on it. I learnt of thee. How I not yet dead? not dead?
Enter GUARD and DERCETAs.
The guard how !--O despatch me. 1 Guard. What's the noise Ant. I have done my work ill, friends; O, make an end Of what I have begun. 2 Guard. The star is fallen. 1 Guard. And time is at his period. All. Alas, and woes Ant. Let him, that loves me, strike me dead. 1 Guard. Not I. 2 Guard. Nor I. 3 Guard. Nor any one. [Ereunt GUARD. Der. Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings, Shall enter me with him.
Diom. Where's Antony
Der. There, Diomede, there,
Diom. Lives he?—Wilt thou not answer, man * [Erit DeRoetas, with the Sword. Ant. Art thou there, Diomede Draw thy sword, and give me Sufficing strokes for death. Diom. Most absolute lord, The empress Cleopatra sent me to thee? Ant. When did she send thee? Diom. Now, my lord. Ant. Where is she? Diom. Lock'd in her monument. She had 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 Caesar, and that your rage Would not be purg'd, she sent you 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 Diomede. Call my guard, I pr’ythee.
Diom. What ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what ho!
Come, your lord calls.
Aut. Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra
'Tis the last service that I shall command you.
1 Guard. Woe are we, sir, you may not live to Wear
All your true followers out.
All. Most heavy day !
Amt. Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp
fate, To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome