 | Antonius |  |
Act. 5.
Cleopatra. Euphron. Children of Cleopatra. Charmion. Eras.Cleop.
O cruell Fortune! ô accursed lott!
O plaguy loue! ô most detested brand!
O wretched ioyes! ô beauties miserable!
O deadlie state! ô deadly roialtie!
O hatefull life! ô Queene most lamentable!
O Antonie by my fault buriable!
O hellish worke of heau'n! alas! the wrath
Of all the Gods at once on vs is falne.
Vnhappie Queene! ô would I in this world
The wandring light of day had neuer sene?
Alas! of mine the plague and poison I
The crowne haue lost my ancestors me left,
This Realme I haue to straungers subiect made,
And robd my children of their heritage.
O plaguy loue! ô most detested brand!
O wretched ioyes! ô beauties miserable!
O deadlie state! ô deadly roialtie!
O hatefull life! ô Queene most lamentable!
O Antonie by my fault buriable!
O hellish worke of heau'n! alas! the wrath
Of all the Gods at once on vs is falne.
Vnhappie Queene! ô would I in this world
The wandring light of day had neuer sene?
Alas! of mine the plague and poison I
The crowne haue lost my ancestors me left,
This Realme I haue to straungers subiect made,
And robd my children of their heritage.
Yet this is nought (alas!) vnto the price
Of you deare husband, whome my snares entrap'd:
Of you, whom I haue plagu'd, whom I haue made
With bloudie hand a guest of mouldie Tombe:
Of you, whome I destroid, of you, deare Lord,
Whome I of Empire, honor, life haue spoil'd.
Of you deare husband, whome my snares entrap'd:
Of you, whom I haue plagu'd, whom I haue made
With bloudie hand a guest of mouldie Tombe:
Of you, whome I destroid, of you, deare Lord,
Whome I of Empire, honor, life haue spoil'd.
O hurtfull woman! and can I yet liue,
Yet longer liue in this Ghost-haunted tombe?
Can I yet breathe! can yet in such annoy,
Yet can my Soule within this bodie dwell?
O Sisters you that spinne the thredes of death!
O Styx! ô Phlegethon! you brookes of hell!
O Impes of Night!
Yet longer liue in this Ghost-haunted tombe?
Can I yet breathe! can yet in such annoy,
Yet can my Soule within this bodie dwell?
O Styx! ô Phlegethon! you brookes of hell!
O Impes of Night!
Euph.
Liue for your childrens sake:
Let not your death of kingdome them depriue.
Alas what shall they do? who will haue care?
Who will preserue this royall race of yours?
Who pittie take? euen now me seemes I see
These little soules to seruile bondage falne,
And borne in triumph.
Cl.
Ah most miserable!
Euph.
Their tender armes with cursed corde fast bound
At their weake backs.
Cl.
Ah Gods what pittie more!
Eph.
Their seelie necks to ground with weaknesse bend.
Cl.
Neuer on vs, good Gods, such mischiefe sende.
Euph.
And pointed at with fingers as they go.
Cl.
Rather a thousand deaths.
Euph.
Lastly his knife
Some cruell caytiue in their bloud embrue.
Cl.
Ah my heart breaks. By shadie bankes of hell,
By fieldes wheron the lonely Ghosts do treade,
By my soule, and the soule of Antonie
I you beseche, Euphron, of them haue care.
Be their good Father, let your wisedome lett
That they fall not into this Tyrants handes.
Rather conduct them where their freezed locks
Black Æthiopes to neighbour Sunne do shewe;
On wauie Ocean at the waters will;
On barraine cliffes of snowie Caucasus;
To Tigers swift, to Lions, and to Beares;
And rather, rather vnto euery coaste,
To eu'rie land and sea: for nought I feare
As rage of him, whose thirst no bloud can quench.
By fieldes wheron the lonely Ghosts do treade,
By my soule, and the soule of Antonie
I you beseche, Euphron, of them haue care.
Be their good Father, let your wisedome lett
That they fall not into this Tyrants handes.
Rather conduct them where their freezed locks
Black Æthiopes to neighbour Sunne do shewe;
On wauie Ocean at the waters will;
On barraine cliffes of snowie Caucasus;
To Tigers swift, to Lions, and to Beares;
And rather, rather vnto euery coaste,
To eu'rie land and sea: for nought I feare
As rage of him, whose thirst no bloud can quench.
Adieu deare children, children deare adiue:
Good Isis you to place of safetie guide,
Farre from our foes, where you your liues may leade
In free estate deuoid of seruile dread.
Farre from our foes, where you your liues may leade
In free estate deuoid of seruile dread.
Remember not, my children, you were borne
Of such a Princelie race: remember not
So manie braue Kings which haue Egipt rul'de
In right descent your ancestors haue bene:
That this great Antonie your Father was,
Hercules bloud, and more then he in praise.
For your high courage such remembrance will,
Seing your fall with burning rages fill.
Of such a Princelie race: remember not
So manie braue Kings which haue Egipt rul'de
In right descent your ancestors haue bene:
That this great Antonie your Father was,
Hercules bloud, and more then he in praise.
For your high courage such remembrance will,
Seing your fall with burning rages fill.
Who knowes if that your hands false Destinie
The Scepters promis'd of imperiouse Rome,
In stede of them shall crooked shepehookes beare,
Needles or forkes, or guide the carte, or plough?
Ah learne t'endure: your birth and high estate
Forget, my babes, and bend to force of fate.
The Scepters promis'd of imperiouse Rome,
In stede of them shall crooked shepehookes beare,
Needles or forkes, or guide the carte, or plough?
Ah learne t'endure: your birth and high estate
Forget, my babes, and bend to force of fate.
Farwell, my babes, farwell, my hart is clos'de
With pitie and paine, my self with death enclos'de,
My breath doth faile. Farwell for euermore,
Your Sire and me you shall see neuer more.
Farwell swete care, farwell.
With pitie and paine, my self with death enclos'de,
My breath doth faile. Farwell for euermore,
Your Sire and me you shall see neuer more.
Farwell swete care, farwell.
Chil.
Madame Adieu.
Cl.
Ah this voice killes me. Ah good Gods! I swounde.
I can no more, I die.
Eras.
Madame, alas!
And will you yeld to woe? Ah speake to vs.
Eup.
Come children.
Chil.
We come.
Eup.
Follow we our chaunce.
The Gods shall guide vs.
Char.
O too cruell lott!
O too hard chaunce! Sister what shall we do,
What shall we do, alas! if murthring darte
Of death arriue while that in slumbring swound
Half dead she lie with anguish ouergone?
Her face is frozen.
Ch.
Madame for Gods loue
Leaue vs not thus: bidd vs yet first farwell.
Alas! wepe ouer Antonie: Let not
His bodie be without due rites entomb'de.
Cl.
Ah, ah.
Char.
Madame.
Cle.
Ay me!
Cl.
How fainte she is?
Cl.
My Sisters, holde me vp. How wretched I,
How cursed am! and was ther euer one
By Fortunes hate into more dolours throwne?
How cursed am! and was ther euer one
By Fortunes hate into more dolours throwne?
Ah, weeping Niobe, although thy hart
Beholdes it selfe enwrap'd in causefull woe
For thy dead children, that a sencelesse rocke
With griefe become, on Sipylus thou stand'st
In endles teares: yet didst thou neuer feele
The weights of griefe that on my heart do lie.
Thy Children thou, mine I poore soule haue lost,
And lost their Father, more then them I waile,
Lost this faire realme; yet me the heauens wrathe
Into a Stone not yet transformed hath.
Beholdes it selfe enwrap'd in causefull woe
For thy dead children, that a sencelesse rocke
With griefe become, on Sipylus thou stand'st
In endles teares: yet didst thou neuer feele
The weights of griefe that on my heart do lie.
Thy Children thou, mine I poore soule haue lost,
And lost their Father, more then them I waile,
Lost this faire realme; yet me the heauens wrathe
Into a Stone not yet transformed hath.
Phaetons sisters, daughters of the Sunne,
Which waile your brother falne into the streames
Of stately Po: the Gods vpon the bankes
Your bodies to banke-louing Alders turn'd.
For me, I sigh, I ceasles wepe, and waile,
And heauen pittiles laughes at my woe,
Reuiues, renewes it still: and in the ende
(Oh crueltie!) doth death for comfort lende.
Which waile your brother falne into the streames
Of stately Po: the Gods vpon the bankes
Your bodies to banke-louing Alders turn'd.
For me, I sigh, I ceasles wepe, and waile,
And heauen pittiles laughes at my woe,
Reuiues, renewes it still: and in the ende
(Oh crueltie!) doth death for comfort lende.
Die Cleopatra then, no longer stay
From Antonie, who thee at Styx attends:
Goe ioine thy Ghost with his, and sobbe no more
Without his loue within these tombes enclos'd.
From Antonie, who thee at Styx attends:
Goe ioine thy Ghost with his, and sobbe no more
Without his loue within these tombes enclos'd.
Eras.
Alas! yet let vs wepe, lest sodaine death
Vnto his tombe we owe.
Ch.
Ah let vs wepe
While moisture lasts, then die before his feete.
Cl.
who furnish will mine eies with streaming teares
My boiling anguish worthilie to waile,
Waile thee Antonie, Antonie my heart?
Alas, how much I weeping liquor want!
Yet haue mine eies quite drawne their Conduits drie
By long beweeping my disastred harmes.
Now reason is that from my side they sucke
First vitall moisture, then the vitall bloud.
Then let the bloud from my sad eies out flowe,
And smoking yet with thine in mixture growe.
Moist it, and heate it newe, and neuer stopp,
All watring thee, while yet remaines one dropp.
Cha.
Antonie take our teares: this is the last
Of all the duties we to thee can yelde,
Before we die.
Er.
These sacred obsequies
Take Antony, and take them in good parte.
Cl.
O Goddesse thou whom Cyprus doth adore,
Venus of Paphos, bent to worke vs harme
For olde Iulus broode, if thou take care
Of Cæsar, why of vs tak'st thou no care?
Antonie did descend, as well as he,
From thine owne Sonne by long enchained line:
And might haue rul'd by one and self same fate,
True Troian bloud, the statelie Romain state.
Venus of Paphos, bent to worke vs harme
For olde Iulus broode, if thou take care
Of Cæsar, why of vs tak'st thou no care?
Antonie did descend, as well as he,
From thine owne Sonne by long enchained line:
And might haue rul'd by one and self same fate,
True Troian bloud, the statelie Romain state.
Antonie, poore Antonie, my deare soule,
Now but a blocke, the bootie of a tombe,
Thy life, thy heate is lost, thy coullor gone,
And hideous palenes on thy face hath seaz'd.
Thy eies, two Sunnes, the lodging place of loue,
Which yet for tents to warlike Mars did serue,
Lock'd vp in lidds (as faire daies cherefull light
Which darknesse flies) do winking hide in night.
Now but a blocke, the bootie of a tombe,
Thy life, thy heate is lost, thy coullor gone,
And hideous palenes on thy face hath seaz'd.
Which yet for tents to warlike Mars did serue,
Lock'd vp in lidds (as faire daies cherefull light
Which darknesse flies) do winking hide in night.
Antonie by our true loues I thee beseche,
And by our hearts swete sparks haue sett on fire,
Our holy mariage, and the tender ruthe
Of our deare babes, knot of our amitie:
My dolefull voice thy eare let entertaine,
And take me with thee to the hellish plaine,
Thy wife, thy frend: heare Antonie, ô heare
My sobbing sighes, if here thou be, or there.
And by our hearts swete sparks haue sett on fire,
Our holy mariage, and the tender ruthe
Of our deare babes, knot of our amitie:
My dolefull voice thy eare let entertaine,
And take me with thee to the hellish plaine,
Thy wife, thy frend: heare Antonie, ô heare
My sobbing sighes, if here thou be, or there.
Liued thus long, the winged race of yeares
Ended I haue as Destinie decreed,
Flourish'd and raign'd, and taken iust reuenge
Of him who me both hated and despisde.
Happie, alas too happie! if of Rome
Only the fleete had hither neuer come.
And now of me an Image great shall goe
Vnder the earth to bury there my woe.
What say I? where am I? ô Cleopatra,
Poore Cleopatra, griefe thy reason reaues.
No, no, most happie in this happles case,
To die with thee, and dieng thee embrace:
My bodie ioynde with thine, my mouth with thine,
My mouth, whose moisture burning sighes haue dried:
To be in one selfe tombe, and one selfe chest,
And wrapt with thee in one selfe sheete to rest.
Ended I haue as Destinie decreed,
Flourish'd and raign'd, and taken iust reuenge
Of him who me both hated and despisde.
Happie, alas too happie! if of Rome
Only the fleete had hither neuer come.
And now of me an Image great shall goe
Vnder the earth to bury there my woe.
What say I? where am I? ô Cleopatra,
Poore Cleopatra, griefe thy reason reaues.
No, no, most happie in this happles case,
To die with thee, and dieng thee embrace:
My bodie ioynde with thine, my mouth with thine,
My mouth, whose moisture burning sighes haue dried:
To be in one selfe tombe, and one selfe chest,
And wrapt with thee in one selfe sheete to rest.
The sharpest torment in my heart I feele
Is that I staie from thee, my heart, this while.
Die will I straight now, now streight will I die,
And streight with thee a wandring shade will be,
Vnder the Cypres trees thou haunt'st alone,
Where brookes of hell do falling seeme to mone.
But yet I stay, and yet thee ouerliue,
That ere I die due rites I may thee giue.
Is that I staie from thee, my heart, this while.
Die will I straight now, now streight will I die,
And streight with thee a wandring shade will be,
Where brookes of hell do falling seeme to mone.
But yet I stay, and yet thee ouerliue,
That ere I die due rites I may thee giue.
A thousand sobbes I from my brest will teare,
With thousand plaints thy funeralles adorne:
My haire shall serue for thy oblations,
My boiling teares for thy effusions,
Mine eies thy fire: for out of them the flame
(Which burnt thy heart on me enamour'd) came.
With thousand plaints thy funeralles adorne:
My haire shall serue for thy oblations,
My boiling teares for thy effusions,
Mine eies thy fire: for out of them the flame
(Which burnt thy heart on me enamour'd) came.
Wepe my companions, wepe, and from your eies
Raine downe on him of teares a brinish streame.
Mine can no more, consumed by the coales
Which from my breast, as from a furnace, rise.
Martir your breasts with multiplied blowes,
With violent hands teare of your hanging haire,
Outrage your face: alas! why should we seeke
(Since now we die) our beawties more to kepe?
Raine downe on him of teares a brinish streame.
Mine can no more, consumed by the coales
Which from my breast, as from a furnace, rise.
Martir your breasts with multiplied blowes,
With violent hands teare of your hanging haire,
Outrage your face: alas! why should we seeke
(Since now we die) our beawties more to kepe?
I spent in teares, not able more to spende,
But kisse him now, what rests me more to doe?
Then lett me kisse you, you faire eies, my light,
Front seate of honor, face most fierce, most faire!
O neck, ô armes, ô hands, ô breast where death
(Oh mischief) comes to choake vp vitall breath.
A thousand kisses, thousand thousand more
Let you my mouth for honors farewell giue:
That in this office weake my limmes may growe,
Fainting on you, and fourth my soule may flowe.
But kisse him now, what rests me more to doe?
Then lett me kisse you, you faire eies, my light,
Front seate of honor, face most fierce, most faire!
O neck, ô armes, ô hands, ô breast where death
(Oh mischief) comes to choake vp vitall breath.
A thousand kisses, thousand thousand more
Let you my mouth for honors farewell giue:
That in this office weake my limmes may growe,
Fainting on you, and fourth my soule may flowe.
| Antonius | |