2998Cleo. Oh Charmian, I will neuer go from hence.

2999Char. Be comforted deere Madam.

3000Cleo. No, I will not:

3001All strange and terrible euents are welcome,

3002But comforts we dispise; our size of sorrow

3003Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great

3004As that which makes it.

3006How now? is he dead?

3007Diom. His death's vpon him, but not dead.

3008Looke out o'th other side your Monument,

3009His Guard haue brought him thither.

3011Cleo. Oh Sunne,

3012Burne the great Sphere thou mou'st in, darkling stand

3013The varrying shore o'th'world. O Antony, Antony, Antony

3014Helpe Charmian, helpe Iras helpe: helpe Friends

3015Below, let's draw him hither.

3016Ant. Peace,

3017Not Caesars Valour hath o'rethrowne Anthony,

3018But Anthonie's hath Triumpht on it selfe.

3019Cleo. So it should be,

3020That none but Anthony should conquer Anthony,

3021But woe 'tis so.

3022Ant. I am dying Egypt, dying; onely

3023I heere importune death a-while, vntill

3024Of many thousand kisses, the poore last

3025I lay vpon thy lippes.

3026Cleo. I dare not Deere,

3027Deere my Lord pardon: I dare not,

3028Least I be taken: not th'Imperious shew

3029Of the full-Fortun'd Caesar, euer shall

3030Be brooch'd with me, if Knife, Drugges, Serpents haue

3031Edge, sting, or operation. I am safe:

3032Your Wife Octauia, with her modest eyes,

3033And still Conclusion, shall acquire no Honour

3034Demuring vpon me: but come, come Anthony,

3035Helpe me my women, we must draw thee vp:

3036Assist good Friends.

3037Ant. Oh quicke, or I am gone.

3038Cleo. Heere's sport indeede:

3039How heauy weighes my Lord?

3040Our strength is all gone into heauinesse,

3041That makes the waight. Had I great Iuno's power,

3042The strong wing'd Mercury should fetch thee vp,

3043And set thee by Ioues side. Yet come a little,

3044Wishers were euer Fooles. Oh come, come, come,

3046And welcome, welcome. Dye when thou hast liu'd,

3047Quicken with kissing: had my lippes that power,

3048Thus would I weare them out.

3049All. A heauy sight.

3050Ant. I am dying Egypt, dying.

3051Giue me some Wine, and let me speake a little.

3052Cleo. No, let me speake, and let me rayle so hye,

3053That the false Huswife Fortune, breake her Wheele,

3054Prouok'd by my offence.

3055Ant. One word (sweet Queene)

3056Of Caesar seeke your Honour, with your safety. Oh.

3057Cleo. They do not go together.

3058Ant. Gentle heare me,

3059None about Caesar trust, but Proculeius.

3060Cleo. My Resolution, and my hands, Ile trust,

3061None about Caesar.

3062Ant. The miserable change now at my end,

3063Lament nor sorrow at: but please your thoughts

3064In feeding them with those my former Fortunes

3065Wherein I liued. The greatest Prince o'th'world,

3066The Noblest: and do now not basely dye,

3067Not Cowardly put off my Helmet to

3068My Countreyman. A Roman, by a Roman

3069Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my Spirit is going,

3070I can no more.

3071Cleo. Noblest of men, woo't dye?

3072Hast thou no care of me, shall I abide

3073In this dull world, which in thy absence is

3074No better then a Stye? Oh see my women:

3075The Crowne o'th'earth doth melt. My Lord?

3076Oh wither'd is the Garland of the Warre,

3077The Souldiers pole is falne: young Boyes and Gyrles

3078Are leuell now with men: The oddes is gone,

3079And there is nothing left remarkeable

3080Beneath the visiting Moone.

3081Char. Oh quietnesse, Lady.

3082Iras. She's dead too, our Soueraigne.

3083Char. Lady.

3084Iras. Madam.

3085Char. Oh Madam, Madam, Madam.

3086Iras. Royall Egypt: Empresse.

3087Char. Peace, peace, Iras.

3088Cleo. No more but in a Woman, and commanded

3089By such poore passion, as the Maid that Milkes,

3090And doe's the meanest chares. It were for me,

3091To throw my Scepter at the iniurious Gods,

3092To tell them that this World did equall theyrs,

3093Till they had stolne our Iewell. All's but naught:

3094Patience is sottish, and impatience does

3095Become a Dogge that's mad: Then is it sinne,

3096To rush into the secret house of death,

3097Ere death dare come to vs. How do you Women?

3098What, what good cheere? Why how now Charmian?

3099My Noble Gyrles? Ah Women, women! Looke

3100Our Lampe is spent, it's out. Good sirs, take heart,

3101Wee'l bury him: And then, what's braue, what's Noble,

3102Let's doo't after the high Roman fashion,

3103And make death proud to take vs. Come, away,

3104This case of that huge Spirit now is cold.

3105Ah Women, Women! Come, we haue no Friend

3106But Resolution, and the breefest end.