 | Antony and Cleopatra |  |
Act 4
Scene 10
Between the two camps.
Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS, with their Army
Their preparation is to-day by sea;
We please them not by land.
SCARUS
For both, my lord.
MARK ANTONY
I would they'ld fight i' the fire or i' the air;
We'ld fight there too. But this it is; our foot
Upon the hills adjoining to the city
Shall stay with us: order for sea is given;
They have put forth the haven . . . . .
Where their appointment we may best discover,
And look on their endeavour.
Exeunt
Scene 11
Another part of the same.
Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and his Army
But being charged, we will be still by land,
Which, as I take't, we shall; for his best force
Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales,
And hold our best advantage.
Exeunt
Scene 12
Another part of the same.
Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS
Yet they are not join'd: where yond pine
does stand,
I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word
Straight, how 'tis like to go.
Exit
SCARUS
Swallows have built
In Cleopatra's sails their nests: the augurers
Say they know not, they cannot tell; look grimly,
And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony
Is valiant, and dejected; and, by starts,
His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear,
Of what he has, and has not.
Alarum afar off, as at a sea-fight
Re-enter MARK ANTONY
MARK ANTONY
All is lost;
This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me:
My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder
They cast their caps up and carouse together
Like friends long lost. Triple-turn'd whore!
'tis thou
Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart
Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly;
For when I am revenged upon my charm,
I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone.
Exit SCARUS
O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more:
Fortune and Antony part here; even here
Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts
That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave
Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark'd,
That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am:
O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,—
Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home;
Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,—
Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose,
Beguiled me to the very heart of loss.
What, Eros, Eros!
Enter CLEOPATRA
Ah, thou spell! Avaunt!
CLEOPATRA
Why is my lord enraged against his love?
MARK ANTONY
Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving,
And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee,
And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians:
Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot
Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown
For poor'st diminutives, for doits; and let
Patient Octavia plough thy visage up
With her prepared nails.
Exit CLEOPATRA
'Tis well thou'rt gone,
If it be well to live; but better 'twere
Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death
Might have prevented many. Eros, ho!
The shirt of Nessus is upon me: teach me,
Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage:
Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon;
And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club,
Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die:
To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall
Under this plot; she dies for't. Eros, ho!
Exit
Scene 13
Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.
Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN
Help me, my women! O, he is more mad
Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly
Was never so emboss'd.
CHARMIAN
To the monument!
There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead.
The soul and body rive not more in parting
Than greatness going off.
CLEOPATRA
To the monument!
Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself;
Say, that the last I spoke was 'Antony,'
And word it, prithee, piteously: hence, Mardian,
And bring me how he takes my death.
To the monument!
Exeunt
Scene 14
The same. Another room.
Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS
Eros, thou yet behold'st me?
EROS
Ay, noble lord.
MARK ANTONY
Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish;
A vapour sometime like a bear or lion,
A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory
With trees upon't, that nod unto the world,
And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen
these signs;
They are black vesper's pageants.
EROS
Ay, my lord,
MARK ANTONY
That which is now a horse, even with a thought
The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct,
As water is in water.
EROS
It does, my lord.
MARK ANTONY
My good knave Eros, now thy captain is
Even such a body: here I am Antony:
Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave.
I made these wars for Egypt: and the queen,—
Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine;
Which whilst it was mine had annex'd unto't
A million more, now lost,—she, Eros, has
Pack'd cards with Caesar, and false-play'd my glory
Unto an enemy's triumph.
Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us
Ourselves to end ourselves.
Enter MARDIAN
O! thy vile lady!
She has robb'd me of my sword.
MARDIAN
No, Antony;
My mistress loved thee, and her fortunes mingled
With thine entirely.
MARK ANTONY
Hence, saucy eunuch; peace!
She hath betray'd me and shall die the death.
MARDIAN
Death of one person can be paid but once,
And that she has discharged: what thou wouldst do
Is done unto thy hand: the last she spake
Was 'Antony! most noble Antony!'
Then in the midst a tearing groan did break
The name of Antony; it was divided
Between her heart and lips: she render'd life,
Thy name so buried in her.
MARK ANTONY
Dead, then?
MARDIAN
Dead.
MARK ANTONY
Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done,
And we must sleep.
To MARDIAN
That thou depart'st hence safe,
Does pay thy labour richly; go.
Exit MARDIAN
Off, pluck off:
The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep
The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides!
Heart, once be stronger than thy continent,
Crack thy frail case! Apace, Eros, apace.
No more a soldier: bruised pieces, go;
You have been nobly borne. From me awhile.
Exit EROS
I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now
All length is torture: since the torch is out,
Lie down, and stray no farther: now all labour
Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles
Itself with strength: seal then, and all is done.
Eros!—I come, my queen:—Eros!—Stay for me:
Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand,
And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze:
Dido and her AEneas shall want troops,
And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros!
Re-enter EROS
EROS
What would my lord?
MARK ANTONY
Since Cleopatra died,
I have lived in such dishonour, that the gods
Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword
Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back
With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack
The courage of a woman; less noble mind
Than she which by her death our Caesar tells
'I am conqueror of myself.' Thou art sworn, Eros,
That, when the exigent should come, which now
Is come indeed, when I should see behind me
The inevitable prosecution of
Disgrace and horror, that, on my command,
Thou then wouldst kill me: do't; the time is come:
Thou strikest not me, 'tis Caesar thou defeat'st.
Put colour in thy cheek.
EROS
The gods withhold me!
Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts,
Though enemy, lost aim, and could not?
MARK ANTONY
Eros,
Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome and see
Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down
His corrigible neck, his face subdued
To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat
Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded
His baseness that ensued?
EROS
I would not see't.
MARK ANTONY
Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured.
Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn
Most useful for thy country.
EROS
O, sir, pardon me!
MARK ANTONY
When I did make thee free, sworest thou not then
To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once;
Or thy precedent services are all
But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come.
EROS
Turn from me, then, that noble countenance,
Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.
MARK ANTONY
Lo thee!
Turning from him
EROS
My sword is drawn.
MARK ANTONY
Then let it do at once
The thing why thou hast drawn it.
EROS
My dear master,
My captain, and my emperor, let me say,
Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.
MARK ANTONY
'Tis said, man; and farewell.
EROS
Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now?
MARK ANTONY
Now, Eros.
EROS
Why, there then: thus I do escape the sorrow
Of Antony's death.
Kills himself
MARK ANTONY
Thrice-nobler than myself!
Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what
I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros
Have by their brave instruction got upon me
A nobleness in record: but I will be
A bridegroom in my death, and run into't
As to a lover's bed. Come, then; and, Eros,
Thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus
Falling on his sword
I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead?
The guard, ho! O, dispatch me!
Enter DERCETAS and Guard
First Guard
What's the noise?
MARK ANTONY
I have done my work in, friends: O, make an end
Of what I have begun.
Second Guard
The star is fall'n.
First Guard
And time is at his period.
All
Alas, and woe!
MARK ANTONY
Let him that loves me strike me dead.
First Guard
Not I.
Second Guard
Nor I.
Third Guard
Nor any one.
Exeunt Guard
DERCETAS
Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly.
This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings,
Shall enter me with him.
Enter DIOMEDES
DIOMEDES
Where's Antony?
DERCETAS
There, Diomed there.
DIOMEDES
Lives he?
Wilt thou not answer, man?
Exit DERCETAS
MARK ANTONY
Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me
Sufficing strokes for death.
DIOMEDES
Most absolute lord,
My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.
MARK ANTONY
When did she send thee?
DIOMEDES
Now, my lord.
MARK ANTONY
Where is she?
DIOMEDES
Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear
Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw—
Which never shall be found—you did suspect
She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage
Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead;
But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent
Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come,
I dread, too late.
MARK ANTONY
Too late, good Diomed: call my guard, I prithee.
DIOMEDES
What, ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho!
Come, your lord calls!
Enter four or five of the Guard of MARK ANTONY
MARK ANTONY
Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides;
'Tis the last service that I shall command you.
First Guard
Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear
All your true followers out.
All
Most heavy day!
MARK ANTONY
Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate
To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome
Which comes to punish us, and we punish it
Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up:
I have led you oft: carry me now, good friends,
And have my thanks for all.
Exeunt, bearing MARK ANTONY
Scene 15
The same. A monument.
Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids aloft, with CHARMIAN and IRAS
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
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 valour 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
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 honour
Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,—
Help me, my women,—we must draw thee up:
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!
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 honour, 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
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
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!
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,
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 MARK ANTONY's body
| Antony and Cleopatra | |