Shakespeare's First Folio - Part 666
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Part 666

Anth. Where is she?

Diom. Lockt in her Monument: she had a Prophesying feare Of what hath come to pa.s.se: for when she saw (Which neuer shall be found) you did suspect She had dispos'd with Caesar, 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

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 sh.o.r.e o'th' world. O Antony, Antony, Antony Helpe Charmian, helpe Iras helpe: helpe Friends Below, let's draw him hither

Ant. Peace, Not Caesars 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: nor th' Imperious shew Of the full-Fortun'd Caesar, 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: a.s.sist 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 sight

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 Caesar seeke your Honour, with your safety. Oh

Cleo. They do not go together

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

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

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 n.o.blest: 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. n.o.blest 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 pa.s.sion, as the Maid that Milkes, And doe's the meanest chares. It were for me, To throw my Scepter at the iniurious G.o.ds, To tell them that this World did equall theyrs, Till they had stolne our Iewell. All's but naught: Patience is sortish, 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 n.o.ble 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 n.o.ble, 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.

Enter Caesar, Agrippa, Dollabella, Menas, with his Counsell of Warre.

Caesar. Go to him Dollabella, bid him yeeld, Being so frustrate, tell him, He mockes the pawses that he makes

Dol. Caesar, I shall.

Enter Decretas with the sword of Anthony.