646

SCENE IX. CAESAR's camp.
Sentinels on their post. Enter ENOBARBUS.
1 Sold. If we be not reliev'd within this hour,
We must return to the court of guard. The night
Is shiny; and, they say, we shall embattle
By the second hour i'the morn.

2 Sold. This last day was

A shrewd one to us.

Eno. O, bear me witness, night,

3 Sold. What man is this?

2 Sold. Stand close, and list to him!

Eno. Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon,
When men revolted shall upon record

Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did
Before thy face repent!-

1 Sold. Enobarbus !

3 Sold. Peace!

Hark further!

Eno. O sovereign mistress of true melancholy,
The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me;
That life, a very rebel to my will,

May hang no longer on me! Throw my heart
Against the flint and hardness of my fault;
Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder,
And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony,
Nobler than my revolt is infamous,
Forgive me in thine own particular;
But let the world rank me in register
A master-leaver, and a fugitive!
Ó Antony! O Antony!

2 Sold. Let's speak

To him!

And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony
Is valiant, and dejected; and, by starts,
His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear,
Of what he has, and has not.

Alarum afar off, as at a Sea-fight. Re-enter As

Ant. All is lost!

TONY.

This foul Egyptian hath betray'd me;
My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder
They cast their caps up, and carouse together
Like friends long lost. - Triple-turn'd whore! 'tis

thou

Hast sold me to this voice; and my heart
Makes only wars on thee.-Bid them all fly!
For when I am reveng'd upon my charm,
I have done all. - Bid them all fly, be gone!

[Exit Scarus.

O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more!
Fortune and Antony part here; even here
All come to this? -The hearts,
Do we shake hands.
That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave
Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark'd,
That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am :
O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,-
Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them

home;

Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,
Like a right gipsey, hath, as fast and loose,
[Dies. Beguil'd me to the very heart of loss.
What, Eros, Eros!

Enter CLEOPATRA.

1 Sold. Let's hear him, for the things he speaks, Ah, thou spell! Avaunt!

May concern Caesar.

3 Sold. Let's do so! but he sleeps.

Cleo. Why is my lord enrag'd against his love?
Ant. Vanish; or I shall give thee thy deserving,

1 Sold. Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee, Was never yet for sleeping.

And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians:
Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot
Of all thy sex! most monster-like, be shown
For poor'st diminutives, to dolts; and let
Patient Octavia plough thy visage up
With her prepared nails! [Exit Cleo.] 'Tis well

thou'rt gone,

If it be well to live: but better 'twere
Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death
Might have prevented many. Eros, ho!-
The shirt of Nessus is upon me! Teach me,
Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage!
Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o'the moon;
And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club,
Subdue my worthiest selt! The witch shall die!
To the Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall

Ant. I would, they'd fight i'the fire, or in the air; Under this plot : she dies for't!-Eros, ho! [Ext.

Alexandria. A room in the palace. Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN. Cleo. Help me, my women! O, he is more mad, Than Telamon for his shield! the boar of Thessaly Was never so emboss'd.

Char. To the monument!

There lock yourself, and send him word you are

dead.

The soul and body rive not more in parting, [Exeunt. Than greatness going off.

Ant. Yet they're not join'd: where yonder

doth stand,

I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word
Straight, how 'tis like to go.

Scar. Swallows have built

In Cleopatra's sails their nests: thee augurers
Say, they know not, - they cannot tell;

grimly,

Cleo. To the monument!

pine Mardian, go tell him, I have slain myself;

Say, that the last I spoke was, Antony, And word it, pr'ythee, piteously. Hence, [Exit. Mardian! and bring me how he takes my death!

look

To the monument!

[Exeunt.

SCENE XII. The same. Another room.

Enter ANTONY and EROS.

Ant. Eros, thou yet behold'st me?

A

A

T

A

T

T

I should, and thou could'st 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! and, Eros,
Thy master dies thy scholar! to do thus

[Falling on his sword.
I learn'd of thee! How! not yet dead? not dead?
The guard!-ho! O, dispatch me!
Enter DERCETAS and guard.

Of what I have begun.

2 Guard. The star is fallen!

1 Guard. And time is at his period!

All. Alas, and woe!

3 Guard. Nor any one.
[Exeunt Guard.
Der. Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers ily.
This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings,
Shall enter me with him.

Enter DIOMEDES.
Dio. Where's Antony?

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!

Call my guard,

Ant. O, quick, or I am gone!
Cleo. Here's sport, indeed!

my lord!

How heavy weighs

Our strength is all gone into heaviness,
That make 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,-
Wishers were ever fools;-0, come, come,
come!
[They draw Antony up.
And welcome, welcome! die, where thou hast liv'd:
Quicken with kissing; had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out!
All. A heavy sight!

Ant. Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides; '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!

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!

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 ANTONY, borne by the guard.
Cleo. O thou sun,

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 ollence.

Ant. One word, sweet queen!

Of Caesar seek your honour with your safety. ~0!
Cleo. They do not go together.
Ant. Gentle, hear me!

None about Caesar trust, but Proculeius!
Cleo. My resolution, and my hands, I'll trust;
None about Caesar!

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,
Nor cowardly; put off my helmet to
My countryman, a Romau, by a Roman
Valiantly vanquish'd. Now, my spirit is going
I can no more!

darkling

Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in!
stand
The varying shore o'the world!-0 Antony!
Antony, Antony!-- Charmian, help! help, Iras!
Help, friends below! let's draw him hither!
Ant. Peace!

Not Caesar'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 poor last
I lay upon thy lips.

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 Caesar ever shall

[Dies.

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?-0, 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. O, quietness, lady!

Iras. She is dead too, our sovereign!
Char. Lady,-

Iras. Madam,

[She faints.

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 Where mine his thoughts did kindle, noble,

Unreconcileable, should divide
Our equalness to this. - Hear me, good friends!
But I will tell you at some meeter season.—
Enter a Messenger.

The business of this man looks out of him,

[Exeunt; those above bearing off Antony's We'll hear him what he says.

Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it, A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Caesar;

Your sweet dependancy; and you shall find
A conqueror, that will pray in aid for kindness,
Where he for grace is kneel'd to.
Cleo. [Within.] Pray yon, tell him

I am his fortune's vassal, and I send him
The greatness he has got. I hourly learn
A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly
Look him i'the face.

Pro. This I'll report, dear lady!

Have comfort; for I know, your plight is pitied
Of him that caus'd it.

Gal. You see how easily she may be surpris'd;
[Here Proculeius, and two of the guard, a-
scend the monument by a ladder placed
against a window, and having descended,
come behind Cleopatra. Some of the guard
unbar and open the gates.

Guard her till Caesar come!

[To Proculeius and the guard. Exit Gallus. Iras. Royal queen!

Char. O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen!
Cleo. Quick, quick, good hands!

Pro. Hold, worthy lady, hold!

[Drawing a dagger.

Dol. I understand not, madam.
Cleo. I dream'd, there was an emperor Antony;-
9, such another sleep, that I might see
But such another man!

Do not abuse my master's bounty by

The undoing of yourself: let the world see
His nobleness well acted, which your death

Will never let come forth.

Cleo. Where art thou, death?

Dol. If it might please you,―

Cleo. His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck
A sun, and moon; which kept their course, and lighted
The little 0, the earth.

Dol. Most sovereign creature,

Cleo. His legs bestrid the ocean: Lis rear'd arm
Crested the world: his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends:
But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty,
There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas,
That grew the more by reaping. His delights
Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back above
The element they liv'd in. In his livery
Walk'd crowns, and crownets; realms and islands

were

As plates dropp'd from his pocket.
Dol. Cleopatra, -

Cleo. Think you, there was, or might be, such a man

As this I dream'd of?

Dol. Gentle madam, no!

Cleo. You lie, up to the hearing of the gods.
But, if there be, or ever were one such,
It's past the size of dreaming. Nature wants staff
To vie strange forms with fancy; yet, to imagine
An Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy,
Condemning shadows quite.

Dol. Hear me, good madam!
Your loss is as yourself, great; and yon bear it
As answering to the weight. 'Would, I might never
O'ertake pursu'd success, but I do feel,

Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen By the rebound of yours, a grief that shoots

Worth many babes and beggars!

Pro. O, temperance, lady!

Cleo. Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir!
If idle talk will once be necessary,

I'll not sleep neither! This mortal house I'll ruin,
Do Caesar what he can! Know, sir, that I
Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court;
Nor once be chástis'd with the sober eye
Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up,
And show me to the shouting varletry
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
Be gentle grave to me! rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies
Blow me into abhorring! rather make
My country's high pyramides my gibbet,
And haug me up in chains!

Pro. You do extend

My very heart at root.

[To Cleopatra.

[Exeunt Proculeius and Soldiers. Dol. Most noble empress, you have heard of me? Cleo. I cannot tell.

Dol. Assuredly, you know me.

Cleo. No matter, sir, what I have heard or known.
You laugh, when boys, or women, tell their dreams;
Is't not your trick?

Caes. Arise,

You shall not kneel!

I pray you, rise! rise, Egypt!

Cleo. Sir, the gods

Will have it thus; my master and
I must obey.

Caes. Take to you no hard thoughts:

The record of what injuries you did us,
Though written in our flesh, we shall remember
As things but done by chance.

Cleo. Sole sir o'the world,

I cannot project mine own cause so well
To make it clear; but do confess, I have
Been laden with like frailties, which before
Have often sham'd our sex.

Caes. Cleopatra, know,
We will extenuate rather than enforce:
If you apply yourself to our intents,

(Which towards you are most gentle,) you shall find

you

seek

A benefit in this change; but if
To lay ou me a cruelty, by taking
Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself