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Which comes to punish us, and we punish it
[Ereunt, bearing ANTony.
SCEN E VIII.
Enter, at a Window above, CLEoPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAs.
Cleo. O Charmian, I will never go from hence.
Char. Be comforted, dear madam.
Cleo. No, I will not:
As that which makes it.—How now is he dead
Diom. His death's upon him, but not dead. Look
O'the other side your monument.—But see,
Enter ANTony, borne by the Guard. Cleo. O sun, sun, Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in darkling stand The varying shore o'the world!—O Antony, Antony, Antony —Charmian, help; help, Iras; Help, friends below; let's draw him hither. Ant. Peace: -
Not Caesar's valour hath o'er-thrown Antony,
Inside of the Monument.
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,