Exit DERCETAS MARK ANTONY Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me Sufficing strokes for death. DIOMEDES Most absolute lord, My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee. MARK ANTONY When did she send thee? DIOMEDES Now, my lord. MARK ANTONY Where is she? DIOMEDES Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw--Which never shall be found--you did suspect She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage Would not be purged, 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. MARK ANTONY Too late, good Diomed: call my guard, I prithee. DIOMEDES What, ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho!
Come, your lord calls!
Enter four or five of the Guard of MARK ANTONY MARK ANTONY Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides;'Tis the last service that I shall command you. First Guard Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear All your true followers out. All Most heavy day! MARK ANTONY 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 MARK ANTONY SCENE XV. The same. A monument. Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids aloft, with CHARMIAN and IRAS CLEOPATRA O Charmian, I will never go from hence. CHARMIAN Be comforted, dear madam. CLEOPATRA 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? DIOMEDES His death's upon him, but not dead.
Look out o' the other side your monument;His guard have brought him thither.
Enter, below, MARK ANTONY, borne by the Guard CLEOPATRA 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 below; let's draw him hither. MARK ANTONY Peace!
Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony, But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself. CLEOPATRA So it should be, that none but Antony Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so! MARK ANTONY I am dying, Egypt, dying; only I here importune death awhile, until Of many thousand kisses the poor last I lay up thy lips. CLEOPATRA I dare not, dear,--Dear my lord, pardon,--I dare not, Lest I be taken: not the imperious show Of the full-fortuned Caesar 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, Antony,--Help me, my women,--we must draw thee up:
Assist, good friends. MARK ANTONY O, quick, or I am gone. CLEOPATRA 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, The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up, And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,--Wishes were ever fools,--O, come, come, come;They heave MARK ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRAAnd welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived:
Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power, Thus would I wear them out. All A heavy sight! MARK ANTONY I am dying, Egypt, dying:
Give me some wine, and let me speak a little. CLEOPATRA No, let me speak; and let me rail so high, That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel, Provoked by my offence. MARK ANTONY One word, sweet queen:
Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety.
O! CLEOPATRA They do not go together. MARK ANTONY Gentle, hear me:
None about Caesar trust but Proculeius. CLEOPATRA My resolution and my hands I'll trust;None about Caesar. MARK ANTONY 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 lived, 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. CLEOPATRA 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, MARK ANTONY dies The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord!
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.
Faints CHARMIAN O, quietness, lady! IRAS She is dead too, our sovereign. CHARMIAN Lady! IRAS Madam! CHARMIAN O madam, madam, madam! IRAS Royal Egypt, Empress! CHARMIAN Peace, peace, Iras! CLEOPATRA 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 stol'n our jewel. All's but naught;Patience is scottish, 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:
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 case of that huge spirit now is cold:
Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend But resolution, and the briefest end.
Exeunt; those above bearing off MARK ANTONY's body