Makes only wars on thee.—Bid them all fly;
For when I am reveng’d 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 gypsy, hath, at fast and loose,
Beguil’d me to the very heart of loss.—
What, Eros, Eros!
[Enter CLEOPATRA.]
Ah, thou spell! Avaunt!
CLEOPATRA.
Why is my lord enrag’d against his love?
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 XIII. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace.
[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN.]
CLEOPATRA.
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, pr’ythee, piteously: hence, Mardian;
And bring me how he takes my death.—
To the monument!
[Exeunt.]
SCENE XIV. Alexandria. Another Room.
[Enter ANTONY and EROS.]
ANTONY.
Eros, thou yet behold’st me?
EROS.
Ay, noble lord.
ANTONY.
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.
Ay, my lord.
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.
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 moe, 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 lov’d thee, and her fortunes mingled
With thine entirely.
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 discharg’d: 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.
ANTONY.
Dead then?
MARDIAN.
Dead.
ANTONY.
Unarm, Eros; the long day’s task is done,
And we must sleep.—That thou depart’st hence safe
Does pay thy labour richly; go.
[Exit MARDIAN.]
Off, pluck off;—
The sevenfold shield of Ajax cannot keep
The