Hath triumphed on itself.

CLEOPATRA

So it should be, That none but Antony should conquer Antony.

But woe ’tis so!

ANTONY

I am dying, Egypt, dying. Only

I here importune death awhile until

Of many thousand kisses the poor last

I lay upon thy lips.

CLEOPATRA

I dare not, dear, Dear, my lord, pardon. I dare not,

Lest I be taken. Nor th’imperious show

Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall

Be brooched with me, if knife, drugs, serpents, have

Edge, sting, or operation. I am safe.

Your wife, Octavia, with her modest eyes

And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour

Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony.—

Help me, my women.—We must draw thee up.

Assist, good friends.

ANTONY

O quick, or I am gone!

CLEOPATRA

Here’s sport indeed. How heavy weighs my lord!

Our strength is all gone into heaviness,

That makes the weight. Had I great Juno’s power

The strong-winged Mercury should fetch thee up

And set thee by Jove’s side. Yet come a little.

Wishers were ever fools. O come, come, come!

They heave Antony aloft to Cleopatra

And welcome, welcome! Die when thou hast lived,

Quicken with kissing. Had my lips that power,

Thus would I wear them out.

They kiss

ALL THE LOOKERS-ON A heavy sight.

ANTONY I am dying, Egypt, dying.

Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.

CLEOPATRA

No, let me speak, and let me rail so high

That the false hussy Fortune break her wheel,

Provoked by my offence.

ANTONY

One word, sweet queen.

Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O!

CLEOPATRA

They do not go together.

ANTONY

Gentle, hear me.

None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.

CLEOPATRA

My resolution and my hands I’ll trust,

None about Caesar.

ANTONY

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 lived the greatest prince o’th’ world,

The noblest; and do now not basely die,

Not cowardly put off my helmet to

My countryman; a Roman by a Roman

Valiantly vanquished. Now my spirit is going;

I can no more.

CLEOPATRA

Noblest of men, woot die?

Hast thou no care of me? Shall I abide

In this dull world, which in thy absence is

No better than a sty?

Antony dies

O see, my women,

The crown o’th’ earth doth melt. My lord!

O, withered is the garland of the war.

The soldier’s pole is fall’n. Young boys and girls

Are level now with men. The odds is gone,

And there is nothing left remarkable

Beneath the visiting moon.

She falls

CHARMIAN O, quietness, lady!

IRAS She’s dead, too, our sovereign.

CHARMIAN

Lady!

IRAS Madam!

CHARMIAN

O, madam, madam, madam!

IRAS

Royal Egypt, Empress!

CHARMIAN

Peace, peace, Iras!

CLEOPATRA (recovering)

No more but e’en a woman, and commanded

By such poor passion as the maid that milks

And does the meanest chores. It were for me

To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods,

To tell them that this world did equal theirs

Till they had stol’n our jewel. All’s but naught.

Patience is sottish, and impatience does

Become a dog that’s mad. Then is it sin

To rush into the secret house of death

Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women?

What, what, good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian?

My noble girls! Ah, women, women! Look,

Our lamp is spent, it’s out. Good sirs, take heart;

We’ll bury him, and then what’s brave, what’s noble,

Let’s do it after the high Roman fashion,

And make death proud to take us. Come, away.

This case of that huge spirit now is cold.

Ah, women, women! Come. We have no friend

But resolution, and the briefest end.

Exeunt, those above bearing off Antony’s body

5.1 Enter Caesar with his council of war: Agrippa, Dolabella, Maecenas, Gallus, Proculeius

CAESAR

Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield.

Being so frustrate, tell him, he but mocks

The pauses that he makes.

DOLABELLA

Caesar, I shall. Exit

Enter Decretas with the sword of Antony

CAESAR

Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar’st

Appear thus to us?

DECRETAS

I am called Decretas.

Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy

Best to be served. Whilst he stood up and spoke

He was my master, and I wore my life

To spend upon his haters. If thou please

To take me to thee, as I was to him

I’ll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not,

I yield thee up my life.

CAESAR

What is’t thou sayst?

DECRETAS

I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.

CAESAR

The breaking of so great a thing should make

A greater crack. The rived world

Should have shook lions into civil streets,

And citizens to their dens. The death of Antony

Is not a single doom; in that name lay

A moiety of the world.

DECRETAS

He is dead, Caesar,

Not by a public minister of justice,

Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand