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[Scene XV.]


Enter Cleopatra, and her Maides aloft, with

Charmian & Iras.

Cleo.
Oh Charmian, I will neuer go from hence.

Char.
Be comforted deere Madam.

Cleo.
No, I will not:
All ſtrange and terrible euents are welcome,
But comforts we diſpiſe; our ſize of ſorrow
Proportion'd to our cauſe, muſt be as great
As that which makes it.
Enter Diomed.
How now? is he dead?

Diom.
His death's vpon him, but not dead.
Looke out o'th other ſide your Monument,
His Guard haue brought him thither.
Enter Anthony, and the Guard.

Cleo.
Oh Sunne,
Burne the great Sphere thou mou'ſt in, darkling ſtand
The varrying ſhore o'th'world. O Antony, Antony, Antony
Helpe Charmian, helpe Iras helpe: helpe Friends
Below, let's draw him hither.

Ant.
Peace,
Not Cæſars Valour hath o'rethrowne Anthony,
But Anthonie's hath Triumpht on it ſelfe.

Cleo.
So it ſhould be,
That none but Anthony ſhould conquer Anthony,
But woe 'tis ſo.

Ant.
I am dying Egypt, dying; onely
I heere importune death a-while, vntill
Of many thouſand kiſſes, the poore laſt
I lay vpon thy lippes.

Cleo.
I dare not Deere,
Deere my Lord pardon: I dare not,
Leaſt I be taken: not th'Imperious ſhew
Of the full-Fortun'd Cæſar, euer ſhall
Be brooch'd with me, if Knife, Drugges, Serpents haue
Edge, ſting, or operation. I am ſafe:
Your Wife Octauia, with her modeſt eyes,
And ſtill Concluſion, ſhall acquire no Honour
Demuring vpon me: but come, come Anthony,
Helpe me my women, we muſt draw thee vp:
Aſſiſt good Friends.

Ant.
Oh quicke, or I am gone.

Cleo.
Heere's ſport indeede:
How heauy weighes my Lord?
Our ſtrength is all gone into heauineſſe,
That makes the waight. Had I great Iuno's power,
The ſtrong wing'd Mercury ſhould fetch thee vp,
And ſet thee by Ioues ſide. Yet come a little,
Wiſhers were euer Fooles. Oh come, come, come,
They heaue Anthony aloft to Cleopatra.
And welcome, welcome. Dye when thou haſt liu'd,
Quicken with kiſſing: had my lippes that power,
Thus would I weare them out.

All.
A heauy fight.

Ant.
I am dying Egypt, dying.
Giue me ſome Wine, and let me ſpeake a little.

Cleo.
No, let me ſpeake, and let me rayle ſo hye,
That the falſe Huſwife Fortune, breake her Wheele,
Prouok'd by my offence.

Ant.
One word (ſweet Queene)
Of Cæſar ſeeke your Honour, with your ſafety. Oh.

Cleo.
They do not go together.

Ant.
Gentle heare me,
None about Cæſar truſt, but Proculeius.

Cleo.
My Reſolution, and my hands, Ile truſt,
None about Cæſar.

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 liued. The greateſt Prince o'th'world,
The Nobleſt: and do now not baſely dye,
Not Cowardly put off my Helmet to
My Countreyman. A Roman, by a Roman
Valiantly vanquiſh'd. Now my Spirit is going,
I can no more.

Cleo.
Nobleſt of men, woo't dye?
Haſt thou no care of me, ſhall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy abſence is
No better then a Stye? Oh ſee my women:
The Crowne o'th'earth doth melt. My Lord?
Oh wither'd is the Garland of the Warre,
The Souldiers pole is falne: young Boyes and Gyrles
Are leuell now with men: The oddes is gone,
And there is nothing left remarkeable
Beneath the viſiting Moone.

Char.
Oh quietneſſe, Lady.

Iras.
She's dead too, our Soueraigne.

Char.
Lady.

Iras.
Madam.

Char.
Oh Madam, Madam, Madam.

Iras.
Royall Egypt: Empreſſe.

Char.
Peace, peace, Iras.

Cleo.
No more but in a Woman, and commanded
By ſuch poore paſſion, as the Maid that Milkes,
And doe's the meaneſt chares. It were for me,
To throw my Scepter at the iniurious Gods,
To tell them that this World did equall theyrs,
Till they had ſtolne our Iewell. All's but naught:
Patience is ſottiſh, and impatience does
Become a Dogge that's mad: Then is it ſinne,
To ruſh into the ſecret houſe of death,
Ere death dare come to vs. How do you Women?
What, what good cheere? Why how now Charmian?
My Noble Gyrles? Ah Women, women! Looke
Our Lampe is ſpent, it's out. Good ſirs, take heart,
Wee'l bury him: And then, what's braue, what's Noble,
Let's doo't after the high Roman faſhion,
And make death proud to take vs. Come, away,
This caſe of that huge Spirit now is cold.
Ah Women, Women! Come, we haue no Friend
But Reſolution, and the breefeſt end.
Exeunt, bearing of Anthonies body.

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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