1    O Charmian, I will never go from hence.

2    Be comforted, dear madam.

3    No, I will not:
4    All strange and terrible events are welcome,
5    But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow,
6    Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great
7    As that which makes it.
Enter, below, DIOMEDES
8    How now! is he dead?

9    His death's upon him, but not dead.
10   Look out o' the other side your monument;
11   His guard have brought him thither.

12   O sun,
13   Burn the great sphere thou movest in!
14   darkling stand
15   The varying shore o' the world. O Antony,
16   Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help;
17   Help, friends below; let's draw him hither.

18   Peace!
19   Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
20   But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself.

21   So it should be, that none but Antony
22   Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so!

23   I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
24   I here importune death awhile, until
25   Of many thousand kisses the poor last
26   I lay up thy lips.

27   I dare not, dear,--
28   Dear my lord, pardon,--I dare not,
29   Lest I be taken: not the imperious show
30   Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall
31   Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs,
32   serpents, have
33   Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe:
34   Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes
35   And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour
36   Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,--
37   Help me, my women,--we must draw thee up:
38   Assist, good friends.

39   O, quick, or I am gone.

40   Here's sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord!
41   Our strength is all gone into heaviness,
42   That makes the weight: had I great Juno's power,
43   The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up,
44   And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,--
45   Wishes were ever fools,--O, come, come, come;
They heave MARK ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRA
46   And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived:
47   Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power,
48   Thus would I wear them out.

49   A heavy sight!

50   I am dying, Egypt, dying:
51   Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.

52   No, let me speak; and let me rail so high,
53   That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel,
54   Provoked by my offence.

55   One word, sweet queen:
56   Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O!

57   They do not go together.

58   Gentle, hear me:
59   None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.

60   My resolution and my hands I'll trust;
61   None about Caesar.

62   The miserable change now at my end
63   Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts
64   In feeding them with those my former fortunes
65   Wherein I lived, the greatest prince o' the world,
66   The noblest; and do now not basely die,
67   Not cowardly put off my helmet to
68   My countryman,--a Roman by a Roman
69   Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going;
70   I can no more.

71   Noblest of men, woo't die?
72   Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide
73   In this dull world, which in thy absence is
74   No better than a sty? O, see, my women,
MARK ANTONY dies
75   The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord!
76   O, wither'd is the garland of the war,
77   The soldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girls
78   Are level now with men; the odds is gone,
79   And there is nothing left remarkable
80   Beneath the visiting moon.

81   O, quietness, lady!

82   She is dead too, our sovereign.

83   Lady!

84   Madam!

85   O madam, madam, madam!

86   Royal Egypt, Empress!

87   Peace, peace, Iras!

88   No more, but e'en a woman, and commanded
89   By such poor passion as the maid that milks
90   And does the meanest chares. It were for me
91   To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods;
92   To tell them that this world did equal theirs
93   Till they had stol'n our jewel. All's but naught;
94   Patience is scottish, and impatience does
95   Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin
96   To rush into the secret house of death,
97   Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women?
98   What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian!
99   My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look,
100  Our lamp is spent, it's out! Good sirs, take heart:
101  We'll bury him; and then, what's brave,
102  what's noble,
103  Let's do it after the high Roman fashion,
104  And make death proud to take us. Come, away:
105  This case of that huge spirit now is cold:
106  Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend
107  But resolution, and the briefest end.