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[Scene XIV.]


Enter Anthony, and Eros.

Ant.
Eros, thou yet behold'ſt me?

Eros.
I Noble Lord.

Ant.
Sometime we ſee a clowd that's Dragoniſh,
A vapour ſometime, like a Beare, or Lyon,
A toward Cittadell, a pendant Rocke,
A forked Mountaine, or blew Promontorie
With Trees vpon't, that nodde vnto the world,
And mocke our eyes with Ayre.
Thou haſt ſeene theſe Signes,
They are blacke Veſpers Pageants.

Eros.
I my Lord.

Ant.
That which is now a Horſe, euen with a thoght
the Racke diſlimes, and makes it indiſtinct
As water is in water.

Eros.
It does my Lord.

Ant.
My good Knaue Eros, now thy Captaine is
Euen ſuch a body: Heere I am Anthony,
Yet cannot hold this viſible ſhape (my Knaue)
I made theſe warres for Egypt, and the Queene,
Whoſe heart I thought I had, for ſhe had mine:
Which whil'ſt it was mine, had annext vntoo't
A Million moe, (now loſt:) ſhee Eros has
Packt Cards with Cæſars, and falſe plaid my Glory
Vnto an Enemies triumph.
Nay, weepe not gentle Eros, there is left vs
Our ſelues to end our ſelues.
Enter Mardian.
Oh thy vilde Lady, ſhe has rob'd me of my Sword.

Mar.
No Anthony,
My Miſtris lou'd thee, and her Fortunes mingled
With thine intirely.

Ant.
Hence ſawcy Eunuch peace, ſhe hath betraid me,
And ſhall dye the death.

Mar.
Death of one perſon, can be paide but once,
And that ſhe ha's diſcharg'd. What thou would'ſt do
Is done vnto thy hand: the laſt ſhe ſpake
Was Anthony, moſt Noble Anthony:
Then in the midd'ſt a tearing grone did breake
The name of Anthony: it was diuided
Betweene her heart, and lips: ſhe rendred life
Thy name ſo buried in her.

Ant.
Dead then?

Mar.
Dead.

Ant.
Vnarme Eros, the long dayes taske is done,
And we muſt ſleepe: That thou depart'ſt hence ſafe
Does pay thy labour richly: Go. exit Mardian.
Off, plucke off,
The ſeuen-fold ſhield of Aiax cannot keepe
The battery from my heart. Oh cleaue my ſides.
Heart, once be ſtronger then thy Continent,
Cracke thy fraile Caſe. Apace Eros, apace;
No more a Soldier: bruiſed peeces go,
You haue bin Nobly borne. From me awhile. exit Eros
I will o're-take thee Cleopatra, and
Weepe for my pardon. So it muſt be, for now
All length is Torture: ſince the Torch is out,
Lye downe and ſtray no farther. Now all labour
Marres what it does: yea, very force entangles
It ſelfe with ſtrength: Seale then, and all is done.
Eros? I come my Queene. Eros? Stay for me,
Where Soules do couch on Flowers, wee'l hand in hand,
And with our ſprightly Port make the Ghoſtes gaze:
Dido, and her Æneas ſhall want Troopes,
And all the haunt be ours. Come Eros, Eros.
Enter Eros.

Eros.
What would my Lord?

Ant.
Since Cleopatra dyed,
I haue liu'd in ſuch diſhonour, that the Gods
Deteſt my baſeneſſe. I, that with my Sword,
Quarter'd the World, and o're greene Neptunes backe
With Ships, made Cities; condemne my ſelfe, to lacke
The Courage of a Woman, leſſe Noble minde
Then ſhe which by her death, our Cæſar telles
I am Conqueror of my ſelfe. Thou art ſworne Eros,
That when the exigent ſhould come, which now
Is come indeed: When I ſhould ſee behinde me
Th'ineuitable proſecution of diſgrace and horror,
That on my command, thou then would'ſt kill me.
Doo't, the time is come: Thou ſtrik'ſt not me,
'Tis Cæſar thou defeat'ſt. Put colour in thy Cheeke.

Eros.
The Gods with-hold me,
Shall I do that which all the Parthian Darts,
(Though Enemy) loſt ayme, and could not.

Ant.
Eros,
Would'ſt thou be window'd in great Rome, and ſee
Thy Maſter thus with pleacht Armes, bending downe
His corrigible necke, his face ſubdu'de
To penetratiue ſhame; whil'ſt the wheel'd ſeate
Of Fortunate Cæſar drawne before him, branded
His Baſeneſſe that enſued.

Eros.
I would not ſee't.

Ant.
Come then: for with a would I muſt be cur'd.
Draw that thy honeſt Sword, which thou haſt worne
Moſt vſefull for thy Country.

Eros.
Oh ſir, pardon me.

Ant.
When I did make thee free, ſwor'ſt yu not then
To do this when I bad thee? Do it at once,
Or thy precedent Seruices are all
But accidents vnpurpos'd. Draw, and come.

Eros.
Turne from me then that Noble countenance,
Wherein the worſhip of the whole world lyes.

Ant.
Loe thee.

Eros.
My ſword is drawne.

Ant.
Then let it do at once
The thing why thou haſt drawne it.

Eros.
My deere Maſter,
My Captaine, and my Emperor. Let me ſay
Before I ſtrike this bloody ſtroke, Farwell.

Ant.
'Tis ſaid man, and farewell.

Eros.
Farewell great Chiefe. Shall I ſtrike now?

Ant.
Now Eros. Killes himſelfe.

Eros.
Why there then:
Thus I do eſcape the ſorrow of Anthonies death.

Ant.
Thrice-Nobler then my ſelfe,
Thou teacheſt me: Oh valiant Eros, what
I ſhould, and thou could'ſt not, my Queene and Eros
Haue by their braue inſtruction got vpon me
A Nobleneſſe in Record. But I will bee
A Bride-groome in my death, and run intoo't
As to a Louers bed. Come then, and Eros,
Thy Maſter dies thy Scholler; to do thus
I learnt of thee. How, not dead? Not dead?
The Guard, how? Oh diſpatch me.
Enter a Guard.

1. Guard.
What's the noiſe?

Ant.
I haue done my worke ill Friends:
Oh make an end of what I haue begun.
2 The Starre is falne.
1 And time is at his Period.

All.
Alas, and woe.

Ant.
Let him that loues me, ſtrike me dead.
1 Not I.
2 Nor I.
3 Nor any one. exeunt

Dercetus.
Thy death and fortunes bid thy folowers fly
This ſword but ſhewne to Cæſar with this tydings,
Shall enter me with him.
Enter Diomedes.

Dio.
Where's Anthony?

Decre.
There Diomed there.

Diom.
Liues he: wilt thou not anſwer man?

Ant.
Art thou there Diomed?
Draw thy ſword, and giue mee,
Suffiſing ſtrokes for death.

Diom.
Moſt abſolute Lord:
My Miſtris Cleopatra ſent me to thee.

Ant.
When did ſhee ſend thee?

Diom.
Now my Lord.

Anth.
Where is ſhe?

Diom.
Lockt in her Monument: ſhe had a Propheſying
Of what hath come to paſſe: for when ſhe ſaw
(Which neuer ſhall be found) you did ſuſpect
She had diſpos'd with Cæſar, and that your rage
Would not be purg'd, ſhe ſent you word ſhe was dead:
But fearing ſince how it might worke, hath ſent
Me to proclaime the truth, and I am come
I dread, too late.

Ant.
Too late good Diomed: call my Guard I prythee.

Dio.
What hoa: the Emperors Guard,
The Guard, what hoa? Come, your Lord calles.
Enter 4. or 5. of the Guard of Anthony.

Ant.
Beare me good Friends where Cleopatra bides,
'Tis the laſt ſeruice that I ſhall command you.
1 Woe, woe are we ſir, you may not liue to weare
All your true Followers out.

All.
Moſt heauy day.

Ant.
Nay good my Fellowes, do not pleaſe ſharp fate
To grace it with your ſorrowes. Bid that welcome
Which comes to puniſh vs, and we puniſh it
Seeming to beare it lightly. Take me vp,
I haue led you oft, carry me now good Friends,
And haue my thankes for all. Exit bearing Anthony

load focus Notes (Horace Howard Furness, 1907)
load focus Notes (Horace Howard Furness, 1907)
load focus English (W. G. Clark, W. Aldis Wright)
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