Act IVScene XV
Alexandria. 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,Proportioned to our cause, must be as greatAs that which makes it.
Enter, below Diomedes.
How now! Is he dead?
Diomedes
His death’s upon him, but not dead.Look out o’ th’ other side your monument;His guard have brought him thither.
Enter, below Antony borne by the Guard.
Cleopatra
O sun,Burn the great sphere thou mov’st in! Darkling standThe varying shore o’ th’ world. O Antony,Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian! Help, Iras, help!Help, friends below! Let’s draw him hither.
Antony
Peace!Not Caesar’s valour hath o’erthrown Antony,But Antony’s hath triumphed on itself.
Cleopatra
So it should be, that none but AntonyShould conquer Antony, but woe ’tis so!
Antony
I am dying, Egypt, dying. OnlyI here importune death awhile untilOf many thousand kisses the poor lastI lay upon thy lips.
Cleopatra
I dare not, dearDear my lord, pardon. I dare not,Lest I be taken. Not th’ imperious showOf the full-fortuned Caesar ever shallBe brooched with me; if knife, drugs, serpents, haveEdge, sting, or operation, I am safe.Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyesAnd still conclusion, shall acquire no honourDemuring upon me. But come, come, Antony—Help me, my women—we must draw thee up.Assist, good friends.
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-winged Mercury should fetch thee upAnd set thee by Jove’s side. Yet come a little;Wishers were ever fools. O come, come come,
They heave 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!
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 highThat the false huswife Fortune break her wheel,Provoked by my offence.
Antony
One word, sweet queen:Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O!
Cleopatra
They do not go together.
Antony
Gentle, hear me.None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.
Cleopatra
My resolution and my hands I’ll trust;None about Caesar.
Antony
The miserable change now at my endLament nor sorrow at, but please your thoughtsIn feeding them with those my former fortunesWherein I lived the greatest prince o’ th’ world,The noblest; and do now not basely die,Not cowardly put off my helmet toMy countryman; a Roman by a RomanValiantly vanquished. Now my spirit is going;I can no more.
Cleopatra
Noblest of men, woo’t die?Hast thou no care of me? Shall I abideIn this dull world, which in thy absence isNo better than a sty? O, see, my women,
Antony dies.
The crown o’ th’ earth doth melt.—My lord!O, withered is the garland of the war,The soldier’s pole is fallen; young boys and girlsAre level now with men. The odds is gone,And there is nothing left remarkableBeneath 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 commandedBy such poor passion as the maid that milksAnd does the meanest chares. It were for meTo throw my sceptre at the injurious gods,To tell them that this world did equal theirsTill they had stolen our jewel. All’s but naught;Patience is sottish, and impatience doesBecome a dog that’s mad. Then is it sinTo rush into the secret house of deathEre 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 fashionAnd make death proud to take us. Come, away.This case of that huge spirit now is cold.Ah, women, women! Come, we have no friendBut resolution and the briefest end.
Exeunt, bearing off Antony’s body.