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 VIII.

The same. A Monument.

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:

All strange and terrible events are welcome,
But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow,
Proportioned to our cause, must be as great

Enter DIOMEDE.

As that which makes it. - How now? is he dead?

Diom. His death's upon him, but not dead. Look

out

O'the other side your monument. But see,
His guard have brought him hither.

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 Cæsar's valour hath o'er-thrown Antony,
But Antony's hath triumphed 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 yet
I here importune death awhile, until
Of many thousand kisses, the poor last
I lay upon thy lips :-Come down.

Cleo. I dare not,

(Dear, dear, my lord, your pardon that I dare not) Lest I be taken: Not the imperiotis show Of the full-fortun'd Cæsar ever shall

Be broocht with me: if knives, drugs, serpents, have
Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe :

Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes,
And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour
Demurring upon me. But come, come, Antony,-
Help me, my women, we must draw thee up;-
Assist, good friends.

[CLEOPATRA and her Women throw out certain
Tackle, into which the People below put AN
TONY, and he is drawn up.

Ant. O, quick, or I am gone.

SCENE IX.

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,