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. 1 Guard. Woe, 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 I have led you oft; carry me now, good friends, [Exeunt, bearing Antony. SCENE XIII. The same. A monument. Enter, above, CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS. Cle. O Charmian, I will never go from hence. Cle. No, I will not: All strange and terrible events are welcome, Enter DIOMEDES. As that which makes it.-How now? is he dead? Enter ANTONY, borne by the Guard. Cle. O sun, Burn the great sphere thou movest in! darkling stand The varying shore o' the world!—O Antony, Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help; Iras, help; help, friends Ant. Peace: Not Cæsar's valor hath o'erthrown Antony, Cle. So it should be, that none but Antony Cle. I dare not, dear, (Dear my lord, pardon) I dare not, Lest I be taken. Not the imperious show L Of the full-fortuned Cæsar ever shall Be brooch'd1 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 honor Demuring upon me.-But come, come, Antony !— Ant. O, quick, or I am gone. Cle. 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, And welcome, welcome! die, where thou hast lived; All. A heavy sight! Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying: Give me some wine, and let me speak a little. Cle. No, let me speak; and let me rail so high, That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel, Provoked by my offence. 1 Adorned. 2 Sedate determination. Ant. One word, sweet queen : Of Cæsar seek your honor, with your safety.-0! Cle. They do not go together. Gentle, hear me : None about Cæsar trust but Proculeius. Cle. My resolution and my hands I'll trust; None about Cæsar. Ant. The miserable change now at my end My countryman, a Roman, by a Roman Cle. Noblest of men, woo't die? In this dull world, which in thy absence is [dies. The crown o' the earth doth melt.—My lord !— The soldier's pole 1 is fallen; young boys and girls And there is nothing left remarkable Beneath the visiting moon. Char. [she faints. O, quietness, lady! Iras. She is dead too, our sovereign. 1 The soldier's object of admiration. Cle. No more, but ev'n a woman; and com manded By such poor passion as the maid that milks, 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, noble, Let's do it after the high Roman fashion, And make death proud to take us. Come, away: This case of that huge spirit now is cold. Task-work. |