With trees upon't, that nod unto the world,
And mock our eyes with air: Thou hast seen these

signs;

They are black vesper's pageants.

Eros.

Ay, my lord.

Ant. That, which is now a horse, even with a

thought,

The rack dislimns; and makes it indistinct,

As water is in water.

Eros.

It does, my lord.

Ant. My good knavet, Eros, now thy captain is

Even such a body: here I am Antony;

Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave.
I made these wars for Egypt; and the queen,-
Whose heart, I thought, I had, for she had mine;
Which, whilst it was mine, had annex'd unto't
A million more, now lost, she, Eros, has

Pack'd cards with Cæsar, and false play'd my glory
Unto an enemy's triumph.-

Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us
Ourselves to end ourselves.-O, thy vile lady!

Enter Mardian.

She has robb'd me of my sword.
Mar.

No, Antony;

My mistress lov'd thee, and her fortunes mingled With thine entirely.

Ant.

Hence, saucy eunuch; peace;

She hath betray'd me, and shall die the death.
Mar. Death of one person can be paid but once;
And that she has discharg'd: What thou would'st do,
Is done unto thy hand; the last she spake
Was, Antony! most noble Antony!

Then in the midst a tearing groan did break
The name of Antony; it was divided
Between her heart and lips: she render'd life,
Thy name so buried in her.

* The fleeting clouds.

+ Servant.

Ant.

Mar.

Dead then?

Dead.

Ant. Eros, unarm; the long day's task is done, And we must sleep: - That thou depart'st hence safe, Does pay thy labour richly; Go.-Off, pluck off;

[Exit Mardian.

The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep
The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides!
Heart, once be stronger than thy continent*,
Crack thy frail case!-Apace, Eros, apace-
No more a soldier:-Bruised pieces, go;
You have been nobly borne. From me a while.-

[Exit Eros.

I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now
All length is torture:-Since the torch is out,
Lie down, and stray no further: Now all labour
Marrs what it does; yea, very force entangles
Itself with strength: Seal then t, and all is done.-
Eros!-I come, my queen:-Eros!-Stay for me:
Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in

hand,

And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze: Dido and her Æneas shall want troops,

And all the haunt be ours.-Come, Eros, Eros!

Re-enter Eros.

Eros. What would my lord?
Ant.

Since Cleopatra died,

I have liv'd in such dishonour, that the gods
Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword
Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back
With ships made cities, condemn myself, to lack
The courage of a woman; less noble mind
Than she, which, by her death, our Cæsar tells,
I am conqueror of myself. Thou art sworn, Eros,

* i.e. The thing that contains thee.
+ Sealing compleats a contract.

That, when the exigent should come (which now
Is come, indeed), when I should see behind me
The inevitable prosecution of

Disgrace and horror, that, on my command,
Thou then would'st kill me: do't; the time is come:
Thou strik'st not me, 'tis Cæsar thou defeat'st.

Put colour in thy cheek.

Eros.

The gods withhold me!

Shall I do that, which all the Parthian darts,
Though enemy, lost aim, and could not?

Ant. Eros, Would'st thou be window'd in great Rome, and see Thy master thus with pleach'd* arms, bending down His corrigiblet neck, his face subdued

To penetrative shame; whilst the wheel'd seat
Of fortunate Cæsar, drawn before him, branded

His baseness that ensuedý?

Eros.

I would not see't.

Ant. Come then; for with a wound I must be cur'd.

Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn Most useful for thy country.

Eros.

O, sir, pardon me. Ant. When I did make thee free, swor'st thou not then

To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once;
Or thy precedent services are all

But accidents unpurpos'd. Draw, and come.
Eros. Turn from me then that noble countenance,
Wherein the worship || of the whole world lies.

Ant. Lo thee.

Eros. My sword is drawn.
Ant.

[Turning from him.

Then let it do at once

The thing why thou hast drawn it.
Eros.

My dear master,

My captain, and my emperor! let me say,
Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.

* Folded.

+ Corrected. ‡ Penetrating.

Followed.

|| Dignity.

Ant. 'Tis said, man;-and farewell.

Eros. Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now?

Ant.

Now, Eros.

Eros. Why, there then:-[Falls on his sword.

Thus do I escape the sorrow

Of Antony's death.

[Dies.

Ant.

Thrice nobler than myself!

Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what

I should, and thou could'st not. My queen and Eros Have, by their brave instruction, got upon me

A nobleness in record: But I will be

A bridegroom in my death, and run into't
As to a lover's bed. Come then; and, Eros,
Thy master dies thy scholar; to do thus

[Falling on his sword.

I learn'd of thee. How! not yet dead? not dead?The guard!-ho!-O, despatch me.

1 Guard.

Enter Dercetas and Guard.

What's the noise?

Ant. I have done my work ill, friends; O, make

an end

Of what I have begun.

2 Guard.

The star is fallen.

1 Guard. And time is at his period. All.

Alas, and woe!

Ant. Let him that loves me, strike me dead.

1 Guard.

2 Guard. Nor I.

3 Guard. Nor any one.

Not I.

[Exeunt Guard.

Der. Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly.

This sword but shown to Cæsar, with this tidings, Shall enter me with him.

Ant. Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword,

and give me

Sufficing strokes for death.

Dio.

Most absolute lord,

My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.

Ant. When did she send thee?

Dio.

Ant.

Now, my lord.

Where is she?

Dio. Lock'd in her monument. She had a pro

phesying fear

Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw
(Which never 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 work, hath sent
Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come,

I dread, too late.

Ant. Too late, good Diomed:-Call my guard, I

pr'ythee.

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, sir, you may not live to

wear

All your true followers out.

All.

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:

* Settled.