And welcome, welcome. Die when thou haft liv'd,
Quicken with kiffing; had my Lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.

All. Oh heavy fight!

Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying.

Give me fome Wine, and let me fpeak a little.
Cleo. No, let me fpeak, and let me rail fo high,
That the falfe Hufwife, Fortune, break her Wheel,
Provok'd by my offence.

Ant. One word, fweet Queen.

Of Cafar feek your honour, with your fafety---Oh!-
Cleo. They do not go together.

Ant. Gentle, hear me,

None about Cafar truft, but Proculeius.

Cleo. My Refolution, and my Hands, I'll truft,
None about Cafar.

Ant. The miferable change now at my end,
Lament nor forrow at: But pleafe your Thoughts
In feeding them with thofe my former Fortunes,
Wherein I liv'd. The greatest Prince o'th' World,
The nobleft once; and do now not bafely die,
Nor Cowardly, put off my Helmet to
My Countryman. A Roman, by a Roman
Valiantly vanquifh'd. Now my Spirit is going,

I can no more

[Antony Dies.

Cleo. Nobleft of Menwoo't die?'
Haft thou no care of me? fhall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy abfence is
No better than a Stye? O fee, my Women!
The Crown o'th' Earth doth melt----My Lord ----
Oh wither'd is the Garland of the War,

The Soldiers Pole is faln: Young Boys and Girls
Are level now with Men; the odds is gone,

And there is nothing left remarkable,

Beneath the vifiting Moon.

Char. Oh quietnefs, Lady.

Iras. She's dead too, our Sovereign.
Char. Lady.

Iras. Madam.

Char. Oh Madam, Madam, Madam-
Iras. Royal Egypt! Emprefs!

[She faints

Char

Char. Peace, peace, Iras

Cleo. No more but a meer Woman, and commanded
By fuch poor paffion, as the Maid that Milks,
And does the meaneft chares. It were for me
To throw my Scepter at the injurious Gods,
To tell them that this world did equal theirs,
'Till they had ftoln our Jewel. All's but nought:
Patience is fottish, and Impatience does
Become a Dog that's mad: Then is it fin,
To rush into the fecret Houfe of death,
E'er death dare come to us? How do you,
What, what good cheer? why how now, Charmian?
My noble Girls?—Ah, women, women! Look,
Our Lamp is fpent, it's out- Good Sirs, take Heart,
We'll bury him: And then what's brave, what's noble,
Let's do't after the high Roman fashion,

Women?

And make Death proud to take us. Come, away,
This cafe of that huge Spirit now is cold.

Ah, Women, Women! Come, we have no Friend,
But Refolution, and the briefeft End.

[Exeunt, bearing off Antony's Body.

SCENE VII. Calar's Camp.

Enter Cæfar, Agrippa, Dolabella, and Menas.

Caf. Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield,

Being fo fruftrate, tell him,

He mocks the pawfes that he makes.

Dol. Cefar, I fhall.

Enter Decretas with the Sword of Antony.

Caf. Wherefore is that? and what art thou that dar❜st Appear thus to us?

Dec. I am called Decretas,

Mark Antony I ferv'd, who beft was worthy

Beft to be ferv'd; whilft he ftood up, and spoke,
He was my Mafter, and I wore my Life
To fpend upon his Haters, If thou please
To take me to thee; as I was to him,
I'll be to Cafar: If thou pleaseft not,
I yield thee up my Life,

F 3

Caf

Caf. What is't thou sayest?

Det, I lay, Oh Cefar, Antony is dead.

Caf. The breaking of fo great a thing, should make A greater Crack. The round World

Should have fhook Lions into civil Streets,

And Citizens to their Dens, The Death of Antony
Is not a fingle Doom, in the name lay
A moiety of the World.

Dec. He is dead, Gefar,

Not by a publick Minister of Justice,
Nor by a hired Knife: but that felf-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 bis wound of it: Behold it ftain'd...
With his moft noble Blood.

Caf. Look you, fad Friends,

The Gods rebuke me, but it is a Tiding

To wash the Eyes of Kings.

Dol. And ftrange it is,

That Nature must compel us to lament
Our most perfifted Deeds.

Men. His taints and honours weigh'd equal in him,
Dol. A raret Spirit never

Did fteer humanity; but you Gods will give us
Some faults to make us Men. Cafar is touch'd.
Men. When fuch a fpacious Mirror's fet before him,
He needs must see himself.

Caf. Oh Antony !

I have followed thee to this, but we do launch
Difeafes in our Bodies. I muft perforce
Have fhewn to thee fuch a declining Day,
Or look on thine; we could not ftall together,
In the whole World. But yet let me lament
With tears as Soveraign as the Blood of Hearts,
That thou my Brother, my Competitor,
In top of all defign, my Mate in Empire,
Friend and Companion in the front of War,
The Arm of mine own Body, and the Heart
Where mine his Thoughts did kindle; that our Stars
Unreconcileable, fhould divide our equalness to this.

Hear

Hear me, good Friends,

But I will tell you at fome meeter Seafon

The bufinefs of this Man looks out of him,

We'll hear him what he fays. Whence are you?
Enter an Egyptian.

Egypt. A poor Ægyptian yet, the Queen my Mistress
Confin'd in all fhe has, her Monument,
Of thy intents, defires, inftruction,

That the preparedly may frame her felf
To th' way fhe's forc'd to.

Caf. Bid her have good Heart,

She foon fhall know of us, by fome of ours,

How honourable, and how kindly we

Determine for her. For Cafar cannot leave to be ungentle,

Agypt. So the Gods preferve thee.

Caf. Come hither Proculeius, go and fay

We purpose her no fhame; give her what comforts
The quality of her Paffion fhall require ;
Left in her greatness, by fome mortal stroke
She do defeat us: For her life in Rome
Would be eternal in our triumph., Go,

And with your speedieft bring us what the fays,

And how you find of her.

Pro. Cafar, I fhall.

[Exit.

[Exit Proculeius.

Caf. Gallus, go you along; where's Dolabella, to fecond

Proculeius?

All. Dolabella.

Caf. Let him alone; for I remember now

How he's employ'd: He fhall in time be ready.
Go with me to my Tent, where you fhall fee
How hardly I was drawn into this War,
How calm and gentle I proceeded ftill
In all my Writings. Go with me, and fee
What I can fhew in this.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VIII. The Monument.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, Mardian, and Seleucus.
Cleo. My defolation does begin to make

A better Life; 'tis paltry to be Cafar:
Not being fortune, he's but fortune's Knave,

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardian. Cleo. Help me, my Women! Oh he is more mad Than Telamon for his Shield, the Boar of Theffaly Was never fo imboft.

Char. To th' Monument, there lock your felf,
And fend him word you are dead:

The Soul and Body rive not more in parting,
Than greatness going off.

Cleo. To th' Monument;

Mardian, go tell him I have flain my felf,
Say, that the laft I spoke was Antony,

And word it, prethee, pitioufly. Hence, Mardian,

And bring me how he takes my death to th' Monument.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VIII. Cleopatra's Palace.

Enter Antony and Eros.

Ant. Eros, thou yet behold'ft me?

Eros. Ay, noble Lord.

Ant. Sometime we fee a Cloud that's Dragonish, A Vapour fometime, like a Bear, or Lion,

A tower'd Cittadel, 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 figns, They are black Vefper's Pageants.

Eros. Ay, my Lord.

Ant. That which is now a Horfe, even with a Thought The Rack diflimn's, and makes it indiftin&t

As water is in water

Eros. It do's, my Lord.

Ant. My good Knave, Eros, now thy Captain is
Even fuch a Body; here I am Antony,

Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my Knave
I made these wars for Egypt, and the Queen,
Whofe Heart I thought I had, for fhe had mine;
Which whilft it was mine, had annext unto't
A Million more, now loft; fhe, Eros, has
Packt Cards with Cafar, and false plaid my Glory
Unto an Enemy's Triumph.

Nay,