SCENE changes to a magnificent Monument.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, and Iras, above. Cleo. 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,
Proportiond 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 Guard.
Cleo. O thou Sun,
Burn the great Sphere thou mov'st in! -darkling stand
The varying shore o'th' world! O Antony !
Help, Charmian; help, Iras, help; help, friends,
Below ; let's draw him hither.

Ant. Peace.
Not Cæsar's valour hath o'er-thrown Antony,
But Antony hath triumph on himself.

Cleo. So it should be, that none but Antony
Should conquer Antony; but, woe, 'tis fo!

Ant. I am dying, Ægypt, dying; only yet
655) I here importune death a while, until
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
Į lay upon thy lips. Come down.

Cleo. (55) I bere importune Death a while, until

Of many thousand Kisses the poor laft

I lay upon thy Lips.
Cleo. I dare not, dear,

Dear Lord, pardon ; I dare not,

Least I be taken.] What curious hobbling Versification do we encounter here in the latt Line but one? Besides, how inconsistenty is

che

my

Cleo. I dare not,
(Dear, dear my Lord, your pardon, that I dare not ;)
Left I be taken; not th’imperious shew
Of the full-fortun’d Cæfar ever shall
Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs, serpents, have
Edge, iting, or operation, I am safe :
Your Wife OEtavia, 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
Addit, good friends.

Ant. Oh, quick, or I am gone.
Cleo. Here's sport, indeed!

- how heavy weighs
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. Oh come, come, come

[They draw Antony up to Cleopatra. And welcome, welcome. Die, where thou hast liv'd; Quicken with killing i had my lips that power, Thus would I wear them out,

All. O heavy fight!

my Lord!

Ant. I am dying, Ægypt, dying. . Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.

Cleo. No, let me speak, and let me rail so high,
That the falle huswife Fortune break her wheel,
Provok'd by my offence.

Ant. One word, sweet Queen.
Of Cæfar seek your honour, with your safety -- oh-

Cleo. They do not go together.

Ant. Gentle, hear me;
None about Cæfar truft, but Proculeius.

Cleo. My resolution, and my hands, I'll trust;
None about Cæfar.

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 liy'd the greatest Prince o'th' world,
The noblest once; and do not now basely die,
Nor 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

[Antony diës.
Cleo. Nobleft of men! woo't die ?
Haft thou no care of me? shall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy absence is
No better than a stye? O see, my women!
The Crown o'th' earth doth melt- my Lord !
Oh, 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.

[She faints.
Char. Oh, quieness, Lady
Iras. She's dead too, our Sovereigo.
Char. Lady!
Iras. Madam!
Char. Oh Madam, Madam, Madam
Iras. Royal Ægypt! Empress!
Char. Peace, peace, Iras.

Cleo. No more but a meer woman, and commanded
By such poor paffion as the maid that milks,

And

And does the meanest chares ! - It were for Me
To throw my scepter at th' injurious Gods ;
To tell them, that this world did equal theirs,
'Till they had stoll'n 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.
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.

Come away,

(56) Enter Cæsar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Mecænas,

Gallus, and Train.

G

CÆ SA R.
O to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;
Being so frustrate, tell him,
He mocks the pauses that he makes.

Dol. Cæfar, I shall. (57)

[Exit Dolabella. Enter Derćetas, with the sword of Antony. Cæf. Wherefore is that? and what art thou, that

dar’st Appear thus to us!

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 Cæfar: If thou pleaseft not,
I yield thee up my life.

Cæf. What is't thou say'st ?
Der. I say, oh, Cæfar, Antony is dead.

Cæf. The breaking of so great a thing should make
A greater crack. The round world should have thook
Lions into civil streets, and Citizens
Into their dens. The death of Antony
Is not a Gngle doom, in that name lay
A moiety of the world.

Der. He is dead, Cæfar, Not by a publick minister of justice, Nor by a hired knife; but that self-hand, Which writ his Honour in the acts it did, Hath with the courage, which the heart did lend it, Splitted the heart. This is his sword, I robb'd his wound of it: behold it stain'd With his most noble blood.