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Ant. Too late, good Diomed :-Call my guard, I
pr’ythee. Dio. What, ho! the emperor's guard! The guard,
what, ho ! Come, your lord calls.
Enter some of the Guard. Ant. Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides: 'Tis the last service that I shall command you. 1st 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.
Enter above, CleOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and Iras.
Cleo. No, I will not :
Dio. His death's upon him, but not dead.
Enter Antony, borne by the Guard.
Ant. Peace :
Cleo. So it should be, that none but Antony
Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
Cleo. I dare not, dear,
Help me, my women,—we must draw thee up ;-
Ant. O, quick, or I am gone.
[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. I am dying, Egypt, dying :
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 :
Cleo. They do not go together.
Ant. Gentle, hear me :
Cleo. My resolution, and my hands, I'll trust;
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,
[She faints. Char. O, quietness, lady! Iras. She is dead too, our sovereign. Char. Lady, Iras. Madam,Char. O madam, madam, madam!
Iras. Royal Egypt ! Empress !
Char. Peace, peace, Iras.
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 scepter 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 ?
[To the Guard below.
[Exeunt ; those above bearing off ANTONY's Body,