The Same. Another Room. |
|
Enter ANTONY and EROS. |
Ant. Eros, thou yet behold'st me? |
Eros. Ay, noble lord. |
Ant. Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish; |
A vapour sometime like a bear or lion, |
A tower'd citadel, a pendant rock, |
A forked mountain, or blue promontory |
With trees upon 't, that nod unto the world |
And mock our eves 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 knave, 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. |
|
Enter MARDIAN. |
O! thy vile lady; |
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 wouldst 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. |
Ant. Dead, then? |
Mar. Dead. |
Ant. Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done, |
And we must sleep. [To MARDIAN.] That thou depart'st hence safe, |
Does pay thy labour richly; go. [Exit MARDIAN. |
Off, pluck off: |
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 awhile. [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 |
Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles |
Itself with strength; seal then, 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, |
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 wouldst 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, |
Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome, and see |
Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down |
His corrigible neck, his face subdu'd |
To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat |
Of fortunate Cæsar, drawn before him, branded |
His baseness that ensu'd? |
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! [Turning from him. |
Eros. My sword is drawn. |
Ant. 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. |
Ant. 'Tis said, man; and farewell. |
Eros. Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now? |
Ant. Now, Eros. |
Eros. Why, there then; thus do I escape the sorrow [Kills himself. |
Of Antony's death. |
Ant. Thrice-nobler than myself! |
Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what |
I should, and thou couldst 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 [Falls on his sword. |
I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead? |
The guard, ho! O! dispatch me. |
|
Enter DERCETAS and Guard. |
First Guard. What's the noise? |
Ant. I have done my work ill, friends: O! make an end |
Of what I have begun. |
Sec. Guard. The star is fallen. |
First Guard. And time is at his period. |
All. Alas, and woe! |
Ant. Let him that loves me strike me dead. |
First Guard. Not I. |
Sec. Guard. Nor I. |
Third Guard. Nor any one. [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. |
|
Enter DIOMEDES. |
Dio. Where's Antony? |
Der. There, Diomed, there. |
Dio. Lives he? |
Wilt thou not answer, man? [Exit DERCETAS. |
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. Now, my lord. |
Ant. Where is she? |
Dio. Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying 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 prithee. |
Dio. What, ho! the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho! |
Come, your lord calls! |
|
Enter four or five of the Guard of ANTONY. |
Ant. Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides; |
'Tis the last service that I shall command you. |
First Guard. Woe, 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; |
I have led you oft; carry me now, good friends, |
And have my thanks for all. [Exeunt, bearing ANTONY. |
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