To grace it with your forrows. 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.

Cleo.

SCENE

[Exeunt, bearing Ant.

XII.

Changes to a magnificent Monument.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, and Iras, above.
H 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 defpife; our fize of forrow,
Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great
As that which makes it.

Enter Diomedes,

How now? is he dead?

Dio. His death's upon him, but not dead. Look out o'th' other fide your Monument, His Guard have brought him thither.

Enter Antony, borne by the Guards.

*

Cleo. O thou Sun,

[ftand.

Turn from th' great Sphere thou mov'ft in !-darkling
The varying fhore o'th' world! O Antony!

Help, Charmian; help, Iras, help; help, friends,
Below; let's draw him hither.

*Burn the great Sphere thou mov'st in, &c.] The varying shore o' th' world! i. e. of the Earth, where Light and Darkness make an inceffant Variation. But then, if the Sun fhould fet on fire the whole Sphere, in which he was fuppofed to move, how could the Earth fland darkling? On the Contrary it would be in perpetual Light. Therefore, if we will allow Cleopatra not to be quite mad, we must believe fhe faid,

Turn from th' great Sphere thou mov'ft in!

Ant.

Ant. Peace.

Not Cæfar's valour hath o'er-thrown Antony,
But Antony hath triumph'd on himself.

Cleo. So it fhould be, that none but Antony
Should conquer Antony; but, woe, 'tis fo!
Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying; only yet
I here importune death a while, until
Of many thoufand kiffes the poor last

I lay upon thy lips.

Cleo. I dare not,

Come down.

(Dear, dear my Lord, your pardon, that I dare not;) Left I be taken; not th' imperious fhew

Of the full-fortun'd Cæfar ever shall

Be brooch'd with me; it knife, drugs, ferpents, have
Edge, fting, or operation, I am safe ;

Your Wife Octavia, with her modest eyes
And ftill conclufion fhall acquire no honour,
Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,
Help me, my women; we muft draw thee up-
Affift, good friends.

Ant. Oh, quick, or I am gone.

[Lord! Cleo. Here's fport, indeed! how heavy weighs my

Our strength is all gone into heaviness,

That makes the weight. Had I great Juno's power,
The ftrong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up,
And fet thee by Jove's fide. Yet come a little,-
Wishes were ever fools.

Oh come, come, come-
[They draw Antony up to Cleopatra.
And welcome, welcome. Die, where thou haft liv'd;
Quicken with kiffing; had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.

All. O heavy fight!

Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying.

Give me fome wine, and let me speak a little.
Cleo. No, let me speak, and let me rail fo high,
That the falfe hufwife Fortune break her wheel
Provok'd by my offence.

Ant. One word, fweet Queen.

Of Cæfar feek your honour, with your safetyyou

Cleo. They do not go together.

Ant. Genile, hear me ;

None about Cæfar truft, but Proculeius.

Cleo. My refolution, and my hands, I'll truft; None about Cæfar.

Ant. The miferable change, now at my end,. Lament, nor forrow at: but please your thoughts. In feeding them with thofe my former fortunes, Wherein I liv'd the greatest prince o'th' world, The nobleft once; and do not now bafely die, Nor cowardly put off my helmet to

I can no more →→→→

My countryman: A Roman, by a Roman
Valiantly vanquish'd. Now, my fpirit is going;
[Antony dies.
Cleo. Nobleft of men!- -woo't die?
Haft thou no care of me? fhall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy abfence is
No better than a flye; O fee, my women!
The crown o'th' earth doth melt-my
-my Lord!
Oh, wither'd is the garland of the war,
The foldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girls
Are level now with men; the odds is gone;

And there is nothing left remarkable,

Beneath the visiting moon.

Char. Oh, quietnefs, Lady!

Iras. She's dead too, our fovereign.

Char. Lady!

Iras. Madam!

Char. Oh Madam, Madam, Madam-

Iras. Royal Egypt! Emprefs!

Char. Peace, peace, Ifis!

[She faints.

Cleo. No more but a mere woman; and com

manded

By fuch poor paffion as the maid that milks,

And does the meaneft chares !-It were for me
To throw my fcepter at th' injurious Gods;

Το

To tell them, that this world did equal theirs,
'Till they had ftoll'n our jewel. All's but naught:
Patience is fottifh, and impatience.does
Become a dog that's mad: Then is it fin,
To rush into the fecret houfe 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,
We'll bury him: and then what's brave, what's
noble,

Let's do it after.the high Roman fashion,
And make death proud to take us.
Come away,

This cafe of that huge fpirit now is cold.

Ah, women, women! come, we have no friend
But refolution, and the briefeft end.

[Exeunt, bearing off Antony's body.

A CT V. SCENE I.

CAESAR'S Camp.

Enter Cæfar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Mecenas, Gallus,

G

and Train.

C AE S A R.

O to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;
Being fo fruftrate, tell him,

He mocks the pauses that he makes.

Dol. Cæfar, I hall.

1

[Exit Dolabella.

Enter Dercetas, with the fword of Antony.

Caf. Wherefore is that? and what art thou that

dar'ft

Appear thus to us?

Der. I am call'd Dercetas ;

Mark Antony I ferv'd, who beft was worthy

N 4

Best

Beft to be ferv'd; whilft he ftood up, and spoke,
He was my mafter, and I wore my life
To spend upon his haters. If thou please
To take me to thee, as I was to him
I'll be to Cæfar: If thou pleasest not,
I yield thee up my life.

Caf. What is't thou fay'ft?

Der. I fay, oh, Cafar, Antony is dead.

Caf. The breaking of fo great a thing should make A greater crack. The round world fhould have fhook Lions into civil ftreets, and citizens

Into their dens- -The death of Antony

Is not a fingle doom, in that name lay
A moiety of the world.

Der. He is dead, Cæfar,

Not by a public minister of justice,

Nor by a hired knife; but that felf-hand,

Which writ his honour in the ads it did,

Hath with the courage, which the heart did lend it, Splitted the heart. This is his fword,

I robb'd his wound of it: behold it ftain'd

With his moft noble blood.

Caf. Look you fad, friends:

The Gods rebuke me, but it is a tiding
To wash the eyes of Kings!

Agr. And frange it is,

That nature muft compel us to lament

Our most perfifted deeds.

Mec. His taints and honours

Weigh'd equal in him.

Agr. A rarer spirit never

Did fleer humanity; but you Gods will give us
Some faults to make us men. Cafar is touch'd.

Mec. When fuch a fpacious mirror's set before him, He needs must see himself.

Cæfar. O Antony!

I've follow'd thee to this- -but we do lance
Diseases in our bodies. I must perforce