Then in the midst a tearing groan did break
The name of Antony; it was divided

Between her heart and lips.

Thy name so buried in her.

Ant.

Mar.

She rendered life,

Dead, then?

Dead.

Ant. Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done, And we must sleep.-That thou depart'st hence safe, Does pay thy labor richly; go.-Off, pluck off ;—

[Exit MARDIAN.
The sevenfold shield of Ajax cannot keep
The battery from my heart.1 O, cleave my sides!
Heart, once be stronger than thy continent,2
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.3 Since the torch is out,
Lie down, and stray no further. Now all labor
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 Æneas shall want troops,
And all the haunt be ours.-Come, Eros, Eros!

Re-enter EROS.

Since Cleopatra died,

Eros. What would my lord?

Ant.

I lived in such dishonor, that the gods

Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword

1 "The battery from my heart," means "the battery proceeding from my heart.

2 i. e. the thing that contains thee.

3 Steevens thinks that the Poet wrote life, and not length. But length may signify extension or protraction of life.

Quartered 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 1
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 wouldst kill me. Do't; the time is come. Thou strik'st not me; 'tis Cæsar thou defeat'st.

Put color in thy cheek.

Eros.

The gods withhold me!

Eros,

Shall I do that, which all the Parthian darts,
Though enemy, lost aim, and could not?

Ant.
Wouldst thou be windowed in great Rome, and see
Thy master thus with pleached 2 arms, bending down
His corrigible neck, his face subdued

To penetrative shame; whilst the wheeled seat
Of fortunate Cæsar, drawn before him, branded
His baseness that ensued? 4

Eros.

I would not see't.

Ant. 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.

Ant. When I did make thee free, swor'st thou not

then

To do this when I bade thee?

Or thy precedent services are all

Do it at once;

But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come.

Eros. Turn from me then that noble countenance Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.

1 The termination bly is often written ble by old writers, and is frequently to be found so in Shakspeare. To mind or purpose is a verb extensively used in former times.

2 i. e. arms folded.

3 Corrigible for corrected, and afterwards penetrative for penetrating. 4 "Branded with baseness the poor wretch that followed."

Ant. Lo thee.

Eros. My sword is drawn.

Ant.

[Turning from him.

Then let it do at once

My dear master,

The thing why thou hast drawn it.
Eros.
My captain and my emperor! let me say,
Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.
Ant. 'Tis said, man;-and farewell.

Eros. Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now?
Ant.
Now, Eros.
Eros. Why, there, then.-[Falls on his sword.] Thus
do I escape the sorrow

Of Antony's death.

Ant.

Thrice nobler than myself! Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what

[Dies.

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 learned of thee. How! not dead? not dead?— The guard!-ho!-O, despatch me.

1 Guard.

Enter DERCETAS and Guard.

What's the noise?

Ant. I have done my work ill, friends; O, make an

end

Of what I have begun.

2 Guard.

1 Guard. And time is at his period.

All.

The star is fallen.

Alas, and wo!

Not I.

[Exeunt Guard.

Ant. Let him that loves me, strike me dead.

1 Guard.

2 Guard. Nor I.

3 Guard. Nor any one.

Der. Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. This sword but shown to Cæsar, with this tidings, Shall enter me with him.

My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.
Ant. When did she send thee?

Dio.

Most absolute lord,

Now, my lord.

Ant.

Where is she?

Dio. Locked in her monument. She had a prophe

sying fear

Of what hath come to pass; for when she saw
(Which never shall be found) you did suspect
She hath disposed1 with Cæsar, 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.

Ant. Too late, good Diomed.-Call my guard, I pr'ythee.

Dio. What, ho! the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho!

Come, your lord calls.

Enter some of the Guard.

Ant. Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra 'bides; 'Tis the last service that I shall command you.

1 Guard. Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live

to wear

All your true followers out.

All.

Most heavy day!

Ant. Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate

1 i. e. arranged with him, agreed with him.

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 ANTONY.

SCENE XIII. The same. A Monument.

Enter above, CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAs. Cleo. O Charmian, I will never go from hence. Char. Be comforted, dear madam.

Cleo. No, I will not.

All strange and terrible events are welcome,
But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow,
Proportioned to our cause, must be as great

Enter DIOMEDES.

As that which makes it.-How now? is he dead?
Dio. His death's upon him, but not dead.
Look out o' the other side your monument;
His guard have brought him thither.

Cleo.

Enter ANTONY, borne by the Guard.

O, thou sun, Burn the great sphere thou mov'st 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.

1 It should be remembered that, according to the old philosophy, the sun was accounted a planet, and thought to be whirled round the earth by the motion of a solid sphere in which it was fixed. Supposing this consumed, the sun must wander in endless space, and the earth be involved in endless night.