Imatges de pàgina

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

what, ho! Come, your lord calls.

Enter some of the Guard. Ant. Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides; 'Tis the last service that I shall command you.

1 Guard. Woe are we t, sir, you may not live to


All your

true followers out. An.

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, And have my thanks for all. [Exeunt, bearing Antony.

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Cleo. O Charmian, I will never go from hence.
Char. Be comforted, dear madam.

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. - How now w? is he dead?

Dio. His death's upon him, but not dead.

+“Woe, woe are we,” &c.- MALONE.

Look out o'the other side your monument,
His guard have brought him thither.

Enter ANTONY, borne by the Guard.

O thou sun, t Burn the great sphere thou mov'st in ! - darklingo

The varying shore o’the world !+- Antony !
Antony, Antony ! - Charmian, help; help, Iras;
Help, friends below; let's draw him hither.

Peace :
Not Cæsar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
But Antony's hath triumphed on itself.

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

Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
I here importune death a while, until
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay upon thy lips. —

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


+“O sun," — Malone.

darkling- ) i.e. without light. + In this passage, says Mr. Steevens, for the sake of somewhat like metre, one word has been omitted and others transposed. Mr. Malone arranges the passage thus,

“O Antony, Antony, Antony,
“ Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help; help, friends

“ Below," &c. 1 Be brooch'd with me;] Be brooch'd, i. e. adorn'd. A brooch was an ornament formerly worn in the hat.

- still conclusion] Sedate determination; silent coolness of resolution.

Demuring upon me. - But come, come, Antony, -
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 !

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 draw ANTONY up.
And welcome, welcome ! die, where thou hast liv'd;
Quicken with kissing * ; had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.

A heavy sight!
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.

One word, sweet queen: Of Cæsar seek your honour, with your safety. – O!

Cleo. They do not go together.

Gentle, hear me: None about Cæsar trust, but Proculeius.

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

Ant. The miserable change now at my end, Lament nor sorrow at: but please your thoughts,

3 Here's sport, indeed!] Cleopatra, perhaps, by this affected levity, this phrase which has no determined signification, only wishes to inspire Antony with cheerfulness, and encourage those who are engaged in the melancholy task of drawing him up into the monument.

into heaviness,] Heaviness is here used equivocally for sorrow and weight. + Quicken with kissing :) That is, Revive by my kiss. VOL. VII.


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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,
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.

[Dies. 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 stye?-0, see, my women,
The crown o'the earth doth melt:

My lord !
O, wither'd is the garland of the war,
The soldier's poles 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.

[She faints. Char.

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


Madam, Char. O madam, madam, madam ! Iras.

Royal Egypt ! Empress !

Char. Peace, peace, Iras.

Cleo. No more, but e'en a woman; and commanded By such poor passion as the maid that milks, And does the meanest chares. 6 It were for me To throw my scepter 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,

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5 The soldier's pole -] He at whom the soldiers pointed, as at a pageant held high for observation.

the meanest chares.] i. e. Hence our terın chare-woman.


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:

[To the Guard below. 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 ANTONY's Body.

SCENE I. - Cæsar's Camp before Alexandria.


LUS, PROCULEIUS, and Others.
Cæs. Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;
Being so frustrate 7, tell him, he mocks us by
The pauses that he makes.

Cæsar, I shall. [Exit DOLABELLA.

Enter DERCETAS, with the Sword of ANTONY. Cæs. Wherefore is that? and what art thou, that

dar'st Appear thus to us ? 8 Der.

I am callid 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,

7 Being so frustrate,-) Frustrate, for frustrated, was the language of Shakspeare's time.

thus to us?] i.e. with a drawn and bloody sword in thy hand.


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