Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
On blossoming Cæsar; 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,
Beguil'd me to the very heart of loss.3-
What, Eros, Eros!

Enter CLEOPATRA.

Ah, thou spell! Avaunt.

Cleo. Why is my lord enrag'd against his love? Ant. Vanish; or I shall give thee thy deserving, And blemish Cæsar'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

9 this grave charm,] By this grave charm, is meant, this sublime, this majestick beauty; or rather, this deadly, or destructive piece of witchcraft.

was my crownet, my chief end,] i. e. last purpose, probably from finis coronat opus.

2 Like a right gipsy, 'hath, at fast and loose,

Beguil'd me, &c.] There is a kind of pun in this passage, arising from the corruption of the word Egyptian into gipsy. The old law-books term such persons as ramble about the country, and pretend skill in palmistry and fortune-telling, Egyptians. Fast and loose is a term to signify a cheating game, of which the following is a description. A leathern belt is made up into a number ́of intricate folds, and placed edgewise upon a table. One of the folds is made to resemble the middle of the girdle, so that whoever should thrust a skewer into it would think he held it fast to the table; whereas, when he has so done, the person with whom he plays may take hold of both ends, and draw it away. This trick is now known to the common people, by the name of pricking at the belt or girdle, and perhaps was practised by the Gypsies in the time of Shakspeare. SIR J. HAWKINS.

3 to the very heart of loss.] To the utmost loss possible.

For poor'st diminutives, to dolts;1 and let
Patient Octavia plough thy visage up

With her prepared nails. [Exit CLEO.] "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;5
And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club,
Subdue my
worthiest self. The witch shall die;
To the Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall
Under this plot: she dies for't.-Eros, ho!

SCENE XI.

Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.

[Exit.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN.

Cleo. Help me, my women! O, he is more mad Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly Was never so emboss'd."

Char.

To the monument; There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead.

most monster-like, be shown

For poor'st diminutives, to dolts;] i. e. shown as monsters are, not only for the smallest piece of money, but to the most stupid and vulgar spectators.

5 Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o'the moon;] This image our poet may have taken from Seneca's Hercules, who says Lichas being launched into the air, sprinkled the clouds with his blood; or more probably from Golding's version of Ovid's Metamorphosis.

6 Than Telamon for his shield;] i. e. than Ajax Telamon for the armour of Achilles, the most valuable part of which was the shield. The boar of Thessaly was the boar killed by Meleager.

7 Was never so emboss'd.] A hunting term: when a deer is hard run, and foams at the mouth, he is said to be imbost.

The soul and body rive not more in parting,
Than greatness going off.

Cleo.
To the monument:-
Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself;
Say, that the last I spoke was, Antony,
And word it, pr'ythee, piteously: Hence,
Mardian; and bring me how he takes my death.-
To the monument.

[Exeunt.

Enter ANTONY and EROS.

Ant. Eros, thou yet behold'st me?

Eros.

Ay, noble lord.

Ant. Sometime, we see a cloud that's dragonish;

A vapour, sometime, like a bear, or lion,

A tower'd citadel, a pendant 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.

8

Ay, my lord. Ant. 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.

Ant. My good knave, Eros, now thy captain is Even such a body: here I am Antony;

8 They are black vesper's pageants.] The beauty both of the expression and the allusion is lost, unless we recollect the frequency and the nature of these shows in Shakspeare's age.

9 The rack dislimus ;] i. e. the fleeting away of the clouds destroys the picture.

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 Cæsar, and false play'd my glory
Unto an enemy's triumph.-

Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us
Ourselves to end ourselves.-O, thy vile lady!

Enter MARDIAN.

She has robb'd me of my sword.

No, Antony;

Mar. My mistress lov'd thee, and her fortunes mingled With thine entirely.

Ant.

Hence, saucy eunuch; peace; She hath betray'd me, and shall die the death.

Mar. Death of one person can be paid but once; And that she has discharg'd: What thou would'st

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.

Ant.

Mar.

Dead then?

Dead.

Ant. Eros, unarm; the long day's task is done, And we must sleep:-That thou depart'st hence safe,

Does pay thy labour richly; Go.-Off, pluck off;[Exit MARDIAN. 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 a while.-
[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 further: Now all labour
Marrs what it does; yea, very force entangles
Itself with strength: Seal then, and all is done.3—
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 Eneas shall want troops,

And all the haunt be ours.-Come, Eros, Eros!

Re-enter EROS.

Eros. What would my lord?

Since Cleopatra died,

Ant.
I have liv'd 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 Cæsar 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 would'st kill me: do't; the time is come:

2

3

thy continent,] i. e. the thing that contains thee.

Seal then, and all is done.] Metaphor taken from civil contracts, where, when all is agreed on, the sealing compleats the contract; so he hath determined to die, and nothing remained but to give the stroke.