ACT IV

SCENE I. Caesar’s Camp at Alexandria.

Enter Caesar, Agrippa, and Maecenas, with his army.
Caesar reading a letter.

CAESAR.
He calls me boy, and chides as he had power
To beat me out of Egypt. My messenger
He hath whipped with rods; dares me to personal combat,
Caesar to Antony. Let the old ruffian know
I have many other ways to die; meantime
Laugh at his challenge.

MAECENAS.
Caesar must think,
When one so great begins to rage, he’s hunted
Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now
Make boot of his distraction. Never anger
Made good guard for itself.

CAESAR.
Let our best heads
Know that tomorrow the last of many battles
We mean to fight. Within our files there are,
Of those that served Mark Antony but late,
Enough to fetch him in. See it done,
And feast the army; we have store to do’t,
And they have earned the waste. Poor Antony!

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

Enter Antony, Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, Iras, Alexas with others.

ANTONY.
He will not fight with me, Domitius?

ENOBARBUS.
No.

ANTONY.
Why should he not?

ENOBARBUS.
He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,
He is twenty men to one.

ANTONY.
Tomorrow, soldier,
By sea and land I’ll fight. Or I will live,
Or bathe my dying honour in the blood
Shall make it live again. Woo’t thou fight well?

ENOBARBUS.
I’ll strike, and cry “Take all.”

ANTONY.
Well said. Come on.
Call forth my household servants. Let’s tonight
Be bounteous at our meal.—

Enter Servants.

Give me thy hand.
Thou has been rightly honest; so hast thou,
Thou, and thou, and thou. You have served me well,
And kings have been your fellows.

CLEOPATRA.
[Aside to Enobarbus.] What means this?

ENOBARBUS.
[Aside to Cleopatra.] ’Tis one of those odd tricks which sorrow shoots
Out of the mind.

ANTONY.
And thou art honest too.
I wish I could be made so many men,
And all of you clapped up together in
An Antony, that I might do you service
So good as you have done.

ALL THE SERVANTS.
The gods forbid!

ANTONY.
Well, my good fellows, wait on me tonight.
Scant not my cups, and make as much of me
As when mine empire was your fellow too
And suffered my command.

CLEOPATRA.
[Aside to Enobarbus.] What does he mean?

ENOBARBUS.
[Aside to Cleopatra.] To make his followers weep.

ANTONY.
Tend me tonight;
May be it is the period of your duty.
Haply you shall not see me more, or if,
A mangled shadow. Perchance tomorrow
You’ll serve another master. I look on you
As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends,
I turn you not away, but, like a master
Married to your good service, stay till death.
Tend me tonight two hours, I ask no more,
And the gods yield you for’t!

ENOBARBUS.
What mean you, sir,
To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep,
And I, an ass, am onion-eyed. For shame,
Transform us not to women.

ANTONY.
Ho, ho, ho!
Now the witch take me if I meant it thus!
Grace grow where those drops fall! My hearty friends,
You take me in too dolorous a sense,
For I spake to you for your comfort, did desire you
To burn this night with torches. Know, my hearts,
I hope well of tomorrow, and will lead you
Where rather I’ll expect victorious life
Than death and honour. Let’s to supper, come,
And drown consideration.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. Alexandria. Before the Palace.

Enter a Company of Soldiers.

FIRST SOLDIER.
Brother, good night. Tomorrow is the day.

SECOND SOLDIER.
It will determine one way. Fare you well.
Heard you of nothing strange about the streets?

FIRST SOLDIER.
Nothing. What news?

SECOND SOLDIER.
Belike ’tis but a rumour. Good night to you.

FIRST SOLDIER.
Well, sir, good night.

Enter two other Soldiers.

SECOND SOLDIER.
Soldiers, have careful watch.

THIRD SOLDIER.
And you. Good night, good night.

[They place themselves in every corner of the stage.]

SECOND SOLDIER.
Here we. And if tomorrow
Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope
Our landmen will stand up.

FIRST SOLDIER.
’Tis a brave army, and full of purpose.

[Music of the hautboys under the stage.]

SECOND SOLDIER.
Peace, what noise?

FIRST SOLDIER.
List, list!

SECOND SOLDIER.
Hark!

FIRST SOLDIER.
Music i’ th’ air.

THIRD SOLDIER.
Under the earth.

FOURTH SOLDIER.
It signs well, does it not?

THIRD SOLDIER.
No.

FIRST SOLDIER.
Peace, I say! What should this mean?

SECOND SOLDIER.
’Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved,
Now leaves him.

FIRST SOLDIER.
Walk. Let’s see if other watchmen
Do hear what we do.

[They advance to another post.]

SECOND SOLDIER.
How now, masters!

ALL.
How now! How now! Do you hear this?

FIRST SOLDIER.
Ay. Is’t not strange?

THIRD SOLDIER.
Do you hear, masters? Do you hear?

FIRST SOLDIER.
Follow the noise so far as we have quarter.
Let’s see how it will give off.

ALL.
Content. ’Tis strange.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

Enter Antony and Cleopatra with others.

ANTONY.
Eros! Mine armour, Eros!

CLEOPATRA.
Sleep a little.

ANTONY.
No, my chuck.—Eros! Come, mine armour, Eros!

Enter Eros with armour.

Come, good fellow, put thine iron on.
If fortune be not ours today, it is
Because we brave her. Come.

CLEOPATRA.
Nay, I’ll help too.
What’s this for?

ANTONY.
Ah, let be, let be! Thou art
The armourer of my heart. False, false. This, this!

CLEOPATRA.
Sooth, la, I’ll help. Thus it must be.

ANTONY.
Well, well,
We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good fellow?
Go put on thy defences.

EROS.
Briefly, sir.

CLEOPATRA.
Is not this buckled well?

ANTONY.
Rarely, rarely.
He that unbuckles this, till we do please
To daff’t for our repose, shall hear a storm.
Thou fumblest, Eros, and my queen’s a squire
More tight at this than thou. Dispatch. O love,
That thou couldst see my wars today, and knew’st
The royal occupation, thou shouldst see
A workman in’t.

Enter an Officer, armed.

Good morrow to thee. Welcome.
Thou look’st like him that knows a warlike charge.
To business that we love we rise betime
And go to’t with delight.

OFFICER.
A thousand, sir,
Early though’t be, have on their riveted trim
And at the port expect you.

[Shout. Trumpets flourish.]

Enter other Captains and Soldiers.

CAPTAIN.
The morn is fair. Good morrow, general.

ALL.
Good morrow, general.

ANTONY.
’Tis well blown, lads.
This morning, like the spirit of a youth
That means to be of note, begins betimes.
So, so. Come, give me that. This way. Well said.
Fare thee well, dame.
Whate’er becomes of me,
This is a soldier’s kiss. [Kisses her.] Rebukeable
And worthy shameful check it were, to stand
On more mechanic compliment. I’ll leave thee
Now like a man of steel.—You that will fight,
Follow me close, I’ll bring you to’t. Adieu.

[Exeunt Antony, Eros, Captains and Soldiers.]

CHARMIAN.
Please you, retire to your chamber.

CLEOPATRA.
Lead me.
He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar might
Determine this great war in single fight!
Then Antony—but now—. Well, on.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE V. Antony’s camp near Alexandria.

Trumpets sound. Enter Antony and Eros, a Soldier meeting them.

SOLDIER.
The gods make this a happy day to Antony!

ANTONY.
Would thou and those thy scars had once prevailed
To make me fight at land!

SOLDIER.
Hadst thou done so,
The kings that have revolted and the soldier
That has this morning left thee would have still
Followed thy heels.

ANTONY.
Who’s gone this morning?

SOLDIER.
Who?
One ever near thee. Call for Enobarbus,
He shall not hear thee, or from Caesar’s camp
Say “I am none of thine.”

ANTONY.
What sayest thou?

SOLDIER.
Sir,
He is with Caesar.

EROS.
Sir, his chests and treasure
He has not with him.

ANTONY.
Is he gone?

SOLDIER.
Most certain.

ANTONY.
Go, Eros, send his treasure after. Do it.
Detain no jot, I charge thee. Write to him—
I will subscribe—gentle adieus and greetings.
Say that I wish he never find more cause
To change a master. O, my fortunes have
Corrupted honest men! Dispatch.—Enobarbus!

[Exeunt.]

SCENE VI. Alexandria. Caesar’s camp.

Flourish. Enter Agrippa, Caesar with Enobarbus and Dolabella.

CAESAR.
Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight.
Our will is Antony be took alive;
Make it so known.

AGRIPPA.
Caesar, I shall.

[Exit.]

CAESAR.
The time of universal peace is near.
Prove this a prosp’rous day, the three-nooked world
Shall bear the olive freely.

Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER.
Antony
Is come into the field.

CAESAR.
Go charge Agrippa
Plant those that have revolted in the van
That Antony may seem to spend his fury
Upon himself.

[Exeunt Caesar and his Train.]

ENOBARBUS.
Alexas did revolt and went to Jewry on
Affairs of Antony; there did dissuade
Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar
And leave his master Antony. For this pains
Caesar hath hanged him. Canidius and the rest
That fell away have entertainment but
No honourable trust. I have done ill,
Of which I do accuse myself so sorely
That I will joy no more.

Enter a Soldier of Caesar’s.

SOLDIER.
Enobarbus, Antony
Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with
His bounty overplus. The messenger
Came on my guard, and at thy tent is now
Unloading of his mules.

ENOBARBUS.
I give it you.

SOLDIER.
Mock not, Enobarbus.
I tell you true. Best you safed the bringer
Out of the host. I must attend mine office,
Or would have done’t myself. Your emperor
Continues still a Jove.

[Exit.]

ENOBARBUS.
I am alone the villain of the earth,
And feel I am so most. O Antony,
Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid
My better service, when my turpitude
Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart.
If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean
Shall outstrike thought, but thought will do’t, I feel.
I fight against thee! No, I will go seek
Some ditch wherein to die; the foul’st best fits
My latter part of life.

[Exit.]

SCENE VII. Field of battle between the Camps.

Alarum. Drums and Trumpets. Enter Agrippa and others.

AGRIPPA.
Retire! We have engaged ourselves too far.
Caesar himself has work, and our oppression
Exceeds what we expected.

[Exeunt.]

Alarums. Enter Antony and Scarus wounded.

SCARUS.
O my brave emperor, this is fought indeed!
Had we done so at first, we had droven them home
With clouts about their heads.

ANTONY.
Thou bleed’st apace.

SCARUS.
I had a wound here that was like a T,
But now ’tis made an H.

Sounds retreat far off.

ANTONY.
They do retire.

SCARUS.
We’ll beat ’em into bench-holes. I have yet
Room for six scotches more.

Enter Eros.

EROS.
They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves
For a fair victory.

SCARUS.
Let us score their backs
And snatch ’em up as we take hares, behind.
’Tis sport to maul a runner.

ANTONY.
I will reward thee
Once for thy sprightly comfort, and tenfold
For thy good valour. Come thee on.

SCARUS.
I’ll halt after.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE VIII. Under the Walls of Alexandria.

Alarum. Enter Antony again in a march; Scarus with others.

ANTONY.
We have beat him to his camp. Run one before
And let the Queen know of our gests.
Tomorrow,
Before the sun shall see’s, we’ll spill the blood
That has today escaped. I thank you all,
For doughty-handed are you, and have fought
Not as you served the cause, but as’t had been
Each man’s like mine. You have shown all Hectors.
Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends,
Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears
Wash the congealment from your wounds and kiss
The honoured gashes whole.

Enter Cleopatra.

[To Scarus.] Give me thy hand.
To this great fairy I’ll commend thy acts,
Make her thanks bless thee. O thou day o’ th’ world,
Chain mine armed neck. Leap thou, attire and all,
Through proof of harness to my heart, and there
Ride on the pants triumphing.

CLEOPATRA.
Lord of lords!
O infinite virtue, com’st thou smiling from
The world’s great snare uncaught?

ANTONY.
Mine nightingale,
We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! Though grey
Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha’ we
A brain that nourishes our nerves and can
Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man.
Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand.—
Kiss it, my warrior. He hath fought today
As if a god, in hate of mankind, had
Destroyed in such a shape.

CLEOPATRA.
I’ll give thee, friend,
An armour all of gold. It was a king’s.

ANTONY.
He has deserved it, were it carbuncled
Like holy Phœbus’ car. Give me thy hand.
Through Alexandria make a jolly march;
Bear our hacked targets like the men that owe them.
Had our great palace the capacity
To camp this host, we all would sup together
And drink carouses to the next day’s fate,
Which promises royal peril.—Trumpeters,
With brazen din blast you the city’s ear;
Make mingle with our rattling tabourines,
That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together,
Applauding our approach.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IX. Caesar’s camp.

Enter a Sentry and his company. Enobarbus follows.

SENTRY.
If we be not relieved within this hour,
We must return to th’ court of guard. The night
Is shiny, and they say we shall embattle
By th’ second hour i’ th’ morn.

FIRST WATCH.
This last day was a shrewd one to’s.

ENOBARBUS.
O, bear me witness, night.—

SECOND WATCH.
What man is this?

FIRST WATCH.
Stand close and list him.

ENOBARBUS.
Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon,
When men revolted shall upon record
Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did
Before thy face repent.

SENTRY.
Enobarbus?

SECOND WATCH.
Peace! Hark further.

ENOBARBUS.
O sovereign mistress of true melancholy,
The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me,
That life, a very rebel to my will,
May hang no longer on me. Throw my heart
Against the flint and hardness of my fault,
Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder
And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony,
Nobler than my revolt is infamous,
Forgive me in thine own particular,
But let the world rank me in register
A master-leaver and a fugitive.
O Antony! O Antony!

[Dies.]

FIRST WATCH.
Let’s speak to him.

SENTRY.
Let’s hear him, for the things he speaks may concern Caesar.

SECOND WATCH.
Let’s do so. But he sleeps.

SENTRY.
Swoons rather, for so bad a prayer as his
Was never yet for sleep.

FIRST WATCH.
Go we to him.

SECOND WATCH.
Awake, sir, awake! Speak to us.

FIRST WATCH.
Hear you, sir?

SENTRY.
The hand of death hath raught him.

[Drums afar off.]

Hark! The drums
Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him
To th’ court of guard; he is of note. Our hour
Is fully out.

SECOND WATCH.
Come on, then. He may recover yet.

[Exeunt with the body.]

SCENE X. Ground between the two Camps.

Enter Antony and Scarus with their army.

ANTONY.
Their preparation is today by sea;
We please them not by land.

SCARUS.
For both, my lord.

ANTONY.
I would they’d fight i’ th’ fire or i’ th’ air;
We’d fight there too. But this it is: our foot
Upon the hills adjoining to the city
Shall stay with us—order for sea is given;
They have put forth the haven—
Where their appointment we may best discover
And look on their endeavour.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE XI. Another part of the Ground.

Enter Caesar and his army.

CAESAR.
But being charged, we will be still by land,
Which, as I take’t, we shall, for his best force
Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales,
And hold our best advantage.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE XII. Another part of the Ground.

Alarum afar off, as at a sea fight. Enter Antony and Scarus.

ANTONY.
Yet they are not joined. Where yond pine does stand
I shall discover all. I’ll bring thee word
Straight how ’tis like to go.

[Exit.]

SCARUS.
Swallows have built
In Cleopatra’s sails their nests. The augurs
Say they know not, they cannot tell; look grimly,
And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony
Is valiant and dejected, and by starts
His fretted fortunes give him hope and fear
Of what he has and has not.

Enter Antony.

ANTONY.
All is lost!
This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me.
My fleet hath yielded to the foe, and yonder
They cast their caps up and carouse together
Like friends long lost. Triple-turned whore! ’Tis thou
Hast sold me to this novice, and my heart
Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly;
For when I am revenged upon my charm,
I have done all. Bid them all fly! Be gone!

[Exit Scarus.]

O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more.
Fortune and Antony part here; even here
Do we shake hands. All come to this! The hearts
That spanieled me at heels, to whom I gave
Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
On blossoming Caesar, and this pine is barked
That overtopped them all. Betray’d I am:
O this false soul of Egypt! This grave charm,
Whose eye becked forth my wars and called them home,
Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,
Like a right gypsy hath at fast and loose
Beguiled me to the very heart of loss.
What, Eros, Eros!

Enter Cleopatra.

Ah, thou spell! Avaunt!

CLEOPATRA.
Why is my lord enraged against his love?

ANTONY.
Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving
And blemish Caesar’s triumph. Let him take thee
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 dolts, 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’ th’ moon,
And with those hands that grasped the heaviest club
Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die.
To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall
Under this plot. She dies for’t.—Eros, ho!

[Exit.]

SCENE XIII. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras and Mardian.

CLEOPATRA.
Help me, my women! O, he is more mad
Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly
Was never so embossed.

CHARMIAN.
To th’ monument!
There lock yourself and send him word you are dead.
The soul and body rive not more in parting
Than greatness going off.

CLEOPATRA.
To th’ monument!
Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself.
Say that the last I spoke was “Antony”,
And word it, prithee, piteously. Hence, Mardian,
And bring me how he takes my death.—To th’ monument!

[Exeunt.]

SCENE XIV. Alexandria. Another Room.

Enter Antony and Eros.

ANTONY.
Eros, thou yet behold’st me?

EROS.
Ay, noble lord.

ANTONY.
Sometime we see a cloud that’s dragonish,
A vapour sometime like a bear or lion,
A towered citadel, a pendant 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.

ANTONY.
That which is now a horse, even with a thought
The rack dislimns and makes it indistinct
As water is in water.

EROS.
It does, my lord.

ANTONY.
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 annexed unto’t
A million more, now lost—she, Eros, has
Packed cards with Caesar, and false-played my glory
Unto an enemy’s triumph.
Nay, weep not, gentle Eros. There is left us
Ourselves to end ourselves.

Enter Mardian.

O, thy vile lady!
She has robbed me of my sword.

MARDIAN.
No, Antony,
My mistress loved thee and her fortunes mingled
With thine entirely.

ANTONY.
Hence, saucy eunuch! Peace!
She hath betrayed me and shall die the death.

MARDIAN.
Death of one person can be paid but once,
And that she has discharged. What thou wouldst do
Is done unto thy hand. The last she spake
Was “Antony! Most noble Antony!”
Then in the midst a tearing groan did break
The name of Antony; it was divided
Between her heart and lips. She rendered life,
Thy name so buried in her.

ANTONY.
Dead, then?

MARDIAN.
Dead.

ANTONY.
Unarm, Eros. The long day’s task is done,
And we must sleep.—That thou depart’st hence safe
Does pay thy labour richly. Go.

[Exit Mardian.]

Off, pluck off!
The sevenfold shield of Ajax cannot keep
The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides!
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 farther. 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,
And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze.
Dido and her Aeneas shall want troops,
And all the haunt be ours.—Come, Eros, Eros!

Enter Eros.

EROS.
What would my lord?

ANTONY.
Since Cleopatra died,
I have lived in such dishonour that the gods
Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword
Quartered the world, and o’er green Neptune’s back
With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack
The courage of a woman; less noble mind
Than she which, by her death, our Caesar tells
“I am conqueror of myself.” Thou art sworn, Eros,
That when the exigent should come, which now
Is come indeed, when I should see behind me
Th’ inevitable prosecution of
Disgrace and horror, that on my command
Thou then wouldst kill me. Do’t. The time is come.
Thou strik’st not me; ’tis Caesar thou defeat’st.
Put colour in thy cheek.

EROS.
The gods withhold me!
Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts,
Though enemy, lost aim and could not?

ANTONY.
Eros,
Wouldst thou be windowed in great Rome and see
Thy master thus with pleached arms, bending down
His corrigible neck, his face subdued
To penetrative shame, whilst the wheeled seat
Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded
His baseness that ensued?

EROS.
I would not see’t.

ANTONY.
Come, then, for with a wound I must be cured.
Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn
Most useful for thy country.

EROS.
O, sir, pardon me!

ANTONY.
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 unpurposed. Draw, and come.

EROS.
Turn from me then that noble countenance
Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.

ANTONY.
Lo thee!

[Turning from him.]

EROS.
My sword is drawn.

ANTONY.
Then let it do at once
The thing why thou hast drawn it.

EROS.
My dear master,
My captain and my emperor, let me say,
Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.

ANTONY.
’Tis said, man, and farewell.

EROS.
Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now?

ANTONY.
Now, Eros.

EROS.
Why, there then! [kills himself]
Thus do I escape the sorrow
Of Antony’s death.

[Dies.]

ANTONY.
Thrice nobler than myself!
Thou teachest me, O 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 learned of thee. How? Not dead? Not dead?
The guard, ho! O, dispatch me!

Enter a company of the Guard, one of them Dercetus.

FIRST GUARD.
What’s the noise?

ANTONY.
I have done my work ill, friends. O, make an end
Of what I have begun.

SECOND GUARD.
The star is fallen.

FIRST GUARD.
And time is at his period.

ALL.
Alas, and woe!

ANTONY.
Let him that loves me strike me dead.

FIRST GUARD.
Not I.

SECOND GUARD.
Nor I.

THIRD GUARD.
Nor anyone.

[Exeunt guard.]

DERCETUS.
Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly.
This sword but shown to Caesar with this tidings,
Shall enter me with him.

Enter Diomedes.

DIOMEDES.
Where’s Antony?

DERCETUS.
There, Diomed, there.

DIOMEDES.
Lives he? Wilt thou not answer, man?

[Exit Dercetus.]

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.

ANTONY.
When did she send thee?

DIOMEDES.
Now, my lord.

ANTONY.
Where is she?

DIOMEDES.
Locked 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.

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 Antony.

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!

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 Antony.]

SCENE XV. Alexandria. 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,
Proportioned 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’ th’ other side your monument;
His guard have brought him thither.

Enter, below Antony borne by the Guard.

CLEOPATRA.
O sun,
Burn the great sphere thou mov’st in! Darkling stand
The varying shore o’ th’ world. O Antony,
Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian! Help, Iras, help!
Help, friends below! Let’s draw him hither.

ANTONY.
Peace!
Not Caesar’s valour hath o’erthrown Antony,
But Antony’s hath triumphed on itself.

CLEOPATRA.
So it should be, that none but Antony
Should conquer Antony, but woe ’tis so!

ANTONY.
I am dying, Egypt, dying. Only
I here importune death awhile until
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay upon thy lips.

CLEOPATRA.
I dare not, dear
Dear my lord, pardon. I dare not,
Lest I be taken. Not th’ imperious show
Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall
Be brooched 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.

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-winged 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 lived;
Quicken with kissing. Had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.

ALL.
A heavy sight!

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 huswife Fortune break her wheel,
Provoked by my offence.

ANTONY.
One word, sweet queen:
Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O!

CLEOPATRA.
They do not go together.

ANTONY.
Gentle, hear me.
None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.

CLEOPATRA.
My resolution and my hands I’ll trust;
None about Caesar.

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’ th’ world,
The noblest; and do now not basely die,
Not cowardly put off my helmet to
My countryman; a Roman by a Roman
Valiantly vanquished. 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,

[ Antony dies.]

The crown o’ th’ earth doth melt.—My lord!
O, withered is the garland of the war,
The soldier’s pole is fallen; 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 stolen our jewel. All’s but naught;
Patience is sottish, 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, bearing off Antony’s body.]