Ah! thou spell. Avaunt! Cleo. Why is my lord enrag'd against his love? Ant. Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving, And blemish Cæsar's triumph. Let him take thee,

50

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, for doits; and let
Patient Octavia plough thy visage up
With her prepared nails. Exit CLEOPATRA.
'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 self. The witch shall

die:

60

Ant. Eros, thou yet behold'st me? Eros. Ay, noble lord. Ant. Sometime we see a cloud that's dragonish: A vapour sometime like a bear or lion,

A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock,

A forked mountain, or blue promontory
With trees upon 't, that nod unto the world
And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen
these signs;

They are black vesper's pageants.
Eros.

Ay, my lord. Ant. That which is now a horse, even with s thought

The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct, 20 As water is in water.

Eros. It does, my lord. Ant. My good knave Eros, now thy captain is Even such a body: here I am Antony; Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave. I made these wars for Egypt; and the queen, Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine. Which whilst it was mine had annex'd unto 't A million more, now lost; she, Eros, has Pack'd cards with Cæsar, and false-play'd my glory

Unto an enemy's triumph.

Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us
Ourselves to end ourselves.

40

Heart, once be stronger than thy continent,
Crack thy frail case! Apace, Eros, apace.
No more a soldier; bruised pieces, go;
You have been nobly borne. From me awhile.
Exit EROS.

I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now
All length is torture; since the torch is out,
Lie down, and stray no further. Now all labour
Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles
Itself with strength; seal then, and all is done.
Eros -I come, my queen.-Eros!-Stay for me;
Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in
hand,

51

And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze;

Dido and her Eneas shall want troops,

Dio. Ant.

Now, my lord. Where is she? Dio. Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear 120 Of what hath come to pass; for when she saw, Which never shall be found, you did suspect She had dispos'd with Cæsar, and that your rage Would not be purg'd, she sent you word she was dead;

But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent
Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come,
I dread, too late.

Ant. Too late, good Diomed. Call my guard,
I prithee.

Dio. What, ho! the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho!

Come; your lord calls.

130

SCENE XIII.-The Same. A Monument. Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids, aloft, with 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, Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great As that which makes it.

Enter, below, DIOMEDES.

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, below, ANTONY, borne by the Guard. Cleo. O sun!

10

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 Cæsar ever shall
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, An-
tony,-

Help me, my women, -we must draw thee up.
Assist, good friends.
O! quick, or I am gone.
Cleo. Here's sport indeed! How heavy weighs
my lord!

Ant.

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.
Wishers were ever fools. O! come, come, come;
They heave ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRA.
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! a
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 offence.

Ant.

One word, sweet queen.

Of Cæsar seek your honour with your safety. 0! Cleo. They do not go together.

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, Not cowardly put off my helmet to My countryman; a Roman by a Roman Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going: I can no more.

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 sty? O! see, my women,
ANTONY dies.
My lord!

The crown o' the earth doth melt.
O! wither'd is the garland of the war,
The soldier'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.

Swoons
O! quietness, lady.
Iras She is dead too, our sovereign.
Char.

Iras.

Lady! Madam'

Royal Egypt!

Char. O madam, madam, madam!

20

Iras.

Empress!

Char. Peace, peace, Iras!

Appear thus to us?

10

Der. I am call'd Dercetas ; Mark Antony I serv'd, who best was worthy Best to be serv'd; whilst he stood up and spoke He was my master, 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 Cæsar; if thou pleasest not, I yield thee up my life. Cæs. What is 't thou say'st? Der. I say, O Cæsar, Antony is dead. Cas. The breaking of so great a thing should make

A greater crack; the round world

Should have shook lions into civil streets,
And citizens to their dens. The death of
Antony

Is not a single doom; in the name lay
A moiety of the world.

Der.

He is dead, Cæsar;

Not by a public minister of justice,
Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand,

20

Which writ his honour in the acts it did,

I have follow'd thee to this; but we do lance
Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce
Have shown to thee such a declining day,
Or look on thine; we could not stall together
In the whole world. But yet let me lament, 40
With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,
That thou, my brother, my competitor
In top of all design, my mate in empire,
Friend and companion in the front of war,
The arm of mine own body, and the heart
Where mine his thoughts did kindle, that our
stars,

Unreconciliable, should divide

Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends,--
Enter an Egyptian.

But I will tell you at some meeter season:
The business of this man looks out of him ; 50
We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you?
Egypt. A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my
mistress,

Confin'd in all she has, her monument,
Of thy intents desires instruction,
That she preparedly may frame herself
To the way she 's forc'd to.

Cæs.
Bid her have good heart;
She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,
How honourable and how kindly we
Determine for her; for Cæsar cannot live
To be ungentle.

Egypt. So the gods preserve thee! Exit. Cas. Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say, 61 We purpose her no shame; give her what

comforts

What I can show in this.

70

Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The Same. The Monument. Enter, aloft, CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS.

Cleo. My desolation does begin to make A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Cæsar; Not being Fortune, he 's but Fortune's knave, A minister of her will; and it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change, Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung, The beggar's nurse and Cæsar's.

Enter, below, PROCULEIUS, GALLUS, and Soldiers.
Pro. Cæsar sends greeting to the Queen of
Egypt;

And bids thee study on what fair demands
Thou mean'st to have him grant thee.

Cleo.

10

What's thy name?

Antony

Pro. My name is Proculeius.
Cleo.

Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but
I do not greatly care to be deceiv'd,

That have no use for trusting. If your master
Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him,
That majesty, to keep decorum, must
No less beg than a kingdom: if he please
To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son,
He gives me so much of mine own as I
Will kneel to him with thanks.

20

Pro. Be of good cheer; You 're fall'n into a princely hand, fear nothing. Make your full reference freely to my lord, Who is so full of grace that it flows over On all that need; let me report to him Your sweet dependency, and you shall find A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness Where he for grace is kneel'd to.

Cleo. Pray you, 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.

30

This I'll report, dear lady: Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied

Of him that caus'd it.

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

50

I'll not sleepneither. This mortal house I'll ruin,
Do Cæsar what he can. Know, sir, that I
Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court,
Nor once be chastis'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 unto 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 hang me up in chains!

Pro.

60

You do extend These thoughts of horror further than you shall Find cause in Cæsar.

lighted

80

The little O, the earth.
Dol.
Most sovereign creature.-
Cleo. His legs bestrid the ocean; his rear'darm
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