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- $Unique_ID{SSP01490}
- $Title{Antony and Cleopatra: Act IV, Scene XV}
- $Author{Shakespeare, William}
- $Subject{}
- $Log{Dramatis Personae*01450.txt}
-
- Portions copyright (c) CMC ReSearch, Inc., 1989
-
- The Complete Works of William Shakespeare
-
- ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
-
-
- ACT IV
- ................................................................................
-
-
- SCENE XV: The same. A monument.
- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
-
- {Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids aloft, with
- CHARMIAN and IRAS.}
-
- CLEOPATRA: O Charmian, I will never go from hence.
-
- CHARMIAN: Be comforted, dear madam.
-
- CLEOPATRA: No, I will not:
- All strange and terrible events are welcome,
- But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow,
- Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great
- As that which makes it.
-
- {Enter, below, DIOMEDES.}
-
- How now! is he dead?
-
- DIOMEDES: His death's upon him, but not dead.
- Look out o' the other side your monument;
- His guard have brought him thither.
-
- {Enter, below, MARK ANTONY, borne by the Guard.}
-
- CLEOPATRA: O sun,
- Burn the great sphere thou movest in!
- darkling stand 10
- The varying shore o' the world. O Antony,
- Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help;
- Help, friends below; let's draw him hither.
-
- MARK ANTONY: Peace!
- Not Caesar's valor hath o'erthrown Antony,
- But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself.
-
- CLEOPATRA: So it should be, that none but Antony
- Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so!
-
- MARK ANTONY: I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
- I here importune death awhile, until
- Of many thousand kisses the poor last 20
- I lay up thy lips.
-
- CLEOPATRA: I dare not, dear,--
- Dear my lord, pardon,--I dare not,
- Lest I be taken: not the imperious show
- Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall
- Be brooch'd 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 honor
- Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,--
- Help me, my women,--we must draw thee up: 30
- Assist, good friends.
-
- MARK 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-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up,
- And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,--
- Wishes were ever fools,--O, come, come, come;
-
- [They heave MARK ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRA.]
-
- And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived:
- Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power,
- Thus would I wear them out.
-
- All: A heavy sight! 40
-
- MARK 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 housewife Fortune break her wheel,
- Provoked by my offence.
-
- MARK ANTONY: One word, sweet queen:
- Of Caesar seek your honor, with your safety. O!
-
- CLEOPATRA: They do not go together.
-
- MARK ANTONY: Gentle, hear me:
- None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.
-
- CLEOPATRA: My resolution and my hands I'll trust;
- None about Caesar.
-
- MARK ANTONY: The miserable change now at my end 50
- Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts
- In feeding them with those my former fortunes
- Wherein I lived, the greatest prince o' the world,
- The noblest; and do now not basely die,
- Not cowardly put off my helmet to
- My countryman,--a Roman by a Roman
- Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going;
- I can no more.
-
- CLEOPATRA: Noblest of men, woo't die?
- Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide
- In this dull world, which in thy absence is 60
- No better than a sty? O, see, my women,
-
- [MARK ANTONY dies.]
-
- The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord!
- O, wither'd 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.
-
- [Faints.]
-
- CHARMIAN: O, quietness, lady!
-
- IRAS: She is dead too, our sovereign.
-
- CHARMIAN: Lady!
-
- IRAS: Madam!
-
- CHARMIAN: O madam, madam, madam!
-
- IRAS: Royal Egypt,
- Empress! 70
-
- CHARMIAN: Peace, peace, Iras!
-
- CLEOPATRA: No more, but e'en a woman, and commanded
- By such poor passion as the maid that milks
- And does the meanest chares. 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 scottish, and impatience does
- Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin
- To rush into the secret house of death, 80
- 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. 90
-
- [Exeunt; those above bearing off MARK ANTONY's body.]
-