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Eros. It does, my Lord.
Ant. My good knave, Eros, now thy Captain is
Ev’n such a body; here I'm Antony,
Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave.
I made these wars for Ægypt; 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 loft!) fhe, Eros, has
Pack'd cards with Cafar, and falfe play'd my Glory
Unto an enemy's triumph-
Nay, weep not, gentle Eros, there is left us
Ourselves to end ourselves.
Oh, thy vile Lady!
Sh'has robb'd me of
Mar. No, Antony,
My Mistress lov'd thee, and her fortunes mingled
With thine intirely.
Ant. Hence, faucy Eunuch, peace, she hath betray'd me, And she shall die the death.
Mar. Death of one person can be paid but once,
And that she has discharg'd. What thou would do,
Is done unto thy hand; the last she spake
Was, Antony ! 'moft noble Antony !
Then in the midst a tearing Groan did break
The name of Antony; it was divided
Between her heart and lips ; she rendred life,
Thy name ro buried in her.
Ant. Dead then ?
Ant. Unarm me, Eros, the long day's talk is done,-
And we must sleep; that thou depart'tt hence safe,
Does pay thy labour richly; go. [Exit Mardian.
Off, pluck off ;
The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep
The battery from my
heart. Oh cleave, my sides ! Heart, once be itronger than thy continent, Crack thy frail cafe! apace, Eros, apace.
No more a Soldier
(Unarming himself. You have been nobly borne ; -from
me a while
I will o’ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
Weep for my pardon. So't must be, for now
All length is torture; since the torch is out,
Lie down and stray no further. Now all labour
Marrs what it does, yea, very force entangles
Itself with strength; feal then, and all is done.
Eres !-I come, my Queen-Eros ! -stay for me,
Where fouls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand,
And with our sprightly port make the Ghosts gaze ;
Dido and her Æneas shall want troops,
And all the haunt be ours. -Come, Eros, Eros!
Eros. What would my Lord ?
Ant. Since Cleopatra died,
I've liv'd in such dishonour, that the Gods
Deteft my baseness. I, that with my sword
Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back,
With fhips, made cities; condemn myself, to lack
The courage of a woman ; less noble-minded
Than fhe, which, by her death, our Cæfar tells,
“ I'm conqueror of myself.” Thou art sworn, Eross
That when the exigent should come, which now
Is come indeed, when I should fee behind me
Th’inevitable prosecution of disgrace
And horror, that on my command thou then
Wouldit kill me. Do it, for the time is come:
Thou strik'ít not me, 'tis Cæfar thou defear'it.
Put colour in thy cheek.
Eros. The Gods with-hold me!
Shall I do that, which all the Parthian darts,
Though enemy, loft aim, and could not?
Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome, and fee
Thy master thus with pleacht arms, bending down
His corrigible neck, his face fubdu'd
To penetrative shame: whilst the wheel'd seat
Of fortunate Cæfar, drawn before him, branded
His baseness that ensued ?
Eros. I would not fee't.
Ant. Come then; for with a wound I must be cur’d. Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn Most useful for thy Country.
Eros. Oh, Sir, pardon me.
Ant. When I did make thee free, swor'st thou not then
To do this when I bade thee? do it at once,
Or thy precedent services are all
But accidents unpurpos’d. Draw, and come.
Eros. Turn from me then that noble countenance,
Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.
Ant. Lo thee..
[Turning from him. Eros. My sword is drawn.
Ant. Then let it do at once
The thing why thou hast drawn it.
Eros. My dear Master,
My Captain, and my Emp'ror ! Let me fay,
Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewel.
Ant. 'Tis faid, man,--and farewel.
Eros. Farewel, great Chief. Shall I strike now?
Ant. Now, Eros.
Eros. Why, there then-
[Eros kills himself. Thus do I escape the forrow Of Antony's death.
[Dies. Ant. Thrice-nobler than myself! Thou teachelt me, oh, valiant Eros, what I should, and thou couldst not; my Queen and Eros Have by their brave instruction got upon me A Nobleness in Record. But I will be A Bridegroom in my death, and run into't As to a Lover's bed. Come then; and, Eros, Thy Master dies thy Scholar; to do thus
(Falling on his sword. I learnt of thee. How, not yet dead? not dead ? The Guard ho! oh, dispatch me.
Enter Dercetas, and Guard.
i Guard. What's the noise ?
Ant. I've done my work ill, friends : 0, make an end of what I have begun.
2 Guard. The star is fall’n.
1 Guard. And time is at his period !
All. Alas, and woe!
Ant. Let him, that loves me, strike me dead.
i Guard. Not I.
2 Guard. Nor I.
3 Guard. Nor any one.
[Excunt. Der. Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. 'This sword but shewn to Cæfar, with this tidings, Shall enter me with him.
Enter Diomedes, Dio. Where's Antony ? Der. There, Diomed, there. Dic. Lives he? wilt thou not answer, man? Ant. Art thou there, Diomed? draw thy sword, and
give me Sufficing strokes for death.
Dio. Most absolute Lord,
My Mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.
Ant. When did she send thee?
Dio. Now, my
Ant. Where is she?
Dio. Lock'd in her Monument. She had a prophesy.
Of what hath come to pass; for when she saw,
(Which never shall be found) you did suspect
She had dispos'd with Cafar; and that your rage
Would not be purg'd, she sent word she was dead.
But fearing fince how it might work, hath fent
Me to proclaim the truth, and I am come, -
I dread, too late.
Ant. Too late, good Diomed; call my Guard, I pr’y-
Dio. What, ho! the Emperor's Guard. The Guard,
what, hoa ! Come, your Lord calls.
Enter a Guard, Ant. Bear me, good friends, were Cleopatra 'bides, 'Tis the laft service that I shall command you.
Guard. Woe are we, Sir! you may not live to wear All your true follow'rs out.
Áll. 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,
thanks for all.
[Exeunt, bearing Antony.
SCENE changes to a magnificent Monument.
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, and Iras, above. Cleo. H Charmian, I will never go from hence.
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, muft be as great
As that which makes it.
How now! is he dead?
Dio. His death's upon him, but not dead. Look out o’th other side your Monument, His guard have brought him thither.
Enter Antony, borne by the Guard. Cleo. O thou Sun, Burn the great Sphere thou mov'ft in !-darkling stand The varying shore o’th' world! O Antony !