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Complete Plays, The

Page 134

by William Shakespeare


  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 XV. THE SAME. A MONUMENT.

  Enter Cleopatra and her maids aloft, with Charmian and Iras

  Cleopatra

  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

  ACT V

  SCENE I. ALEXANDRIA. OCTAVIUS CAESAR’S CAMP.

  Enter Octavius Caesar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Mecaenas, Gallus, Proculeius, and others, his council of war

  Octavius Caesar

  Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;

  Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks

  The pauses that he makes.

  Dolabella

  Caesar, I shall.

  Exit

  Enter Dercetas, with the sword of Mark Antony

  Octavius Caesar

  Wherefore is that? and what art thou that darest

  Appear thus to us?

  Dercetas

  I am call’d Dercetas;

  Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy

  Best to be served: whilst he stood up and spoke,

  He was my master; and I wore my life

  To spend upon his haters. If thou please

  To take me to thee, as I was to him

  I’ll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not,

  I yield thee up my life.

  Octavius Caesar

  What is’t thou say’st?

  Dercetas

  I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.

  Octavius Caesar

  The breaking of so great a thing should make

  A greater crack: the round world

  Should have shook lions into civil streets,

  And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony

  Is not a single doom; in the name lay

  A moiety of the world.

  Dercetas

  He is dead, Caesar:

  Not by a public minister of justice,

  Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand,

  Which writ his honour in the acts it did,

  Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,

  Splitted the heart. This is his sword;

  I robb’d his wound of it; behold it stain’d

  With his most noble blood.

  Octavius Caesar

  Look you sad, friends?

  The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings

  To wash the eyes of kings.

  Agrippa

  And strange it is,

  That nature must compel us to lament

  Our most persisted deeds.

  Mecaenas

  His taints and honours

  Waged equal with him.

  Agrippa

  A rarer spirit never

  Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us

  Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch’d.

  Mecaenas

  When such a spacious mirror’s set before him,

  He needs must see himself.

  Octavius Caesar

  O Antony!

  I have follow’d thee to this; but we do lance

  Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce

  Have shown to thee such a declining day,

 

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