 | Antony and Cleopatra |  |
423
SCENE XI.
Antony enters, supported by Officers.Ant.
Gently, my friends, or I am gone!
O—there!
[They let him down.
Adieu—take with you my eternal thanks
For this, your latest service—so—friends—leave me!
Would I had another world to part among you,
Better than that we have lost!
[Exeunt Officers.
Cleo.
Woe, woe—alas!—the soldier's pole is fallen!
O—wither'd is the garland of the war!
And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting moon!
Ant.
True, thou sweet bird, whose song made all my summer!—
The long, long winter's come; and we must moult,
Never to plume again!—O, pardon, love!—
Have I your pardon for my rash suspicions?
I weep for it in blood!
Cleo.
I'll not survive you,
If swords, or knives, or drugs, or serpents, have
Edge, sting, or operation.
Ant.
Loveliest, dearest,
Live, live, I charge you—think on our poor infants!
I am dying, Egypt, dying!—Tell me;
Wilt thou remember, Antony?—that hope
424
On the dark journey!
Cleo.
O—he is going—going!
Ant.
I would fain stay longer with thee—
A little longer!—but—it will not be.
Shall we not meet—shall we not meet again?—
Perhaps—in happier climes!—
Now—now I feel what's death—'tis nature's wreck—
Torn from herself!—
It is—it is to part from Cleopatra—
Never to join again!—
Thine image, now, is all that's left me—O—
O, Cleopatra!—
[Dies.
Cleo.
Gone!—
Is it possible—or did we only dream?
Charm.
Dream, madam?
Cleo.
Yes.—
I dream'd there was an emperor Antony—
O, such another sleep!—
His face was as the heavens, and therein shone
A sun and moon, which kept their course, and lighted
This little of the earth!
Charm.
Most sovereign lady,
The gods preserve you firm!
Cleo.
His legs bestrid the ocean; his rear'd arm
Crested the earth; his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres!
But, when he meant to quail, and shake the globe,
425
It knew no winter, girls; it was an autumn,
That grew the more by plucking.—In his livery
Walk'd crowns and coronets—Realms and islands were
As plates dropt from his pocket!
Charm., Iras.
Madam—dear madam!
Cleo.
Knew ye not such an Antony?
Both.
We did, we did.—But—
Cleo.
But there he lies, scarce better now to look on,
Than the world's Cæsar!—Girls, O girls—see there!
Our day is done—our latest lamp is spent,
And we are for the dark!
[Trumpets and shouts.
Iras.
Madam, they come—look, look!
Cleo.
Give me the aspicks—quick!
Charm.
O mistress!
Cleo.
What!—
Not such another word—Why, how now Charmian?
Good cheer! we'll yet be happy, girls!—Quick, quick!
I am fire and air—my other elements
I give to baser life!
[Applies the Aspicks.
Charm.
O eastern star!—we could not, if we would,
Survive when thou art quench'd.
Cleo.
Peace, peace!—
Do ye not see my baby at my breast,
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If death's no more than this, life is not worth
Leave-taking—Charmian, I am going, Charmian!
Now, Antony, Antony!—I come, I come!
[Dies.
Char.
Close, downy windows, close!
And golden Phœbus never be beheld
Of eyes, again, so royal!
[Noise at the gate.
Now Iras!
[They apply the aspicks.
Guard.
Make way, make way!
[Gate broke open. Agrippa enters with Roman chiefs.
Agrip.
How, how!—
Was this well done?
Iras.
Yes—
Charm.
Rarely, rarely, Roman!
[They both fall.
Agrip.
Rarely indeed, for faithfully!—Come, friends,
Let us behold this wonder—She does look
Like sleep, as she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil of Grace.—Lay them together.
Never was yet the boastful monument
Could compass such a pair—Here conquest ought
To weep, and wash with tears the end it sought.
| Antony and Cleopatra | |