Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent ANT. Too late, good Diomed.-Call my guard, Dro. What, ho! the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho! Come, your lord calls! Not Cæsar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony, CLEO. So it should be, that none but Antony Should conquer Antony; but woe 't is so! ANT. I am dying,-Egypt,-dying; only CLEO. Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs, serpents, have Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe: ANT. O, quick, or I am gone! CLEO. Here's sport, indeed!-How heavy weighs my lord! Our strength is all gone into heaviness; piteous in the contrast it implies between the fallen queen's present occupation and the diversions of her happier times, is quite lost on Mr. Collier's unsusceptible commentator, who coolly reads, "Here's port, indeed."! That the false housewife, Fortune," break her wheel, Provok'd by my offence. CLEO. They do not go together. Gentle, hear me ; None about Cæsar trust but Proculeius. CLEO. My resolution and my hands I'll trust; None about Cæsar. ANT. 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 liv'd, 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.(3) Now, my spirit is going;I can no more. b CLEO. [ANTONY dies. CHAR. [Faints. O, quietness, lady! Empress! CHAR. Peace, peace, Iras! [commanded CLEO. No more, but e'en * a woman, and 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 nought; Patience is sottish, 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, [Charmian! What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, My noble girls!-Ah, women, women! look, Our lamp is spent, it's out!-Good sirs, take heart::[noble, We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, what's Let's do it after the high Roman fashion, And make Death proud to take us. Come, women? away: d This case of that huge spirit now is cold.-- [Exeunt; those above bearing off ANTONY's body. (*) First folio, in, corrected by Capell. of addressing women was not unusual; and, consequently, that the modern stage direction here, "[To the Guard below," is improper. Thus, as quoted by Mr. Dyce from Beaumont and Fletcher's play of "The Coxcomb," Act IV. Sc. 3, the mother, speaking to Viola, Nan. and Madge, says, "Sirs, to your tasks, and shew this little novice How to bestir herself," &c. Again, as quoted by Mr. Dyce from the same authors' "A King and No King," Act III. Sc. 1, "Spa. I do beseech you, madam, send away A few sad words, which, set against your joys, Pan. Sirs, leave me all. [Exeunt Waiting-women, Of thy intents desires instruction, CES. Bid her have good heart; She soon shall know of us, by some of ours, How honourable and how kindly we Determine for her: for Cæsar cannot live * To be ungentle. MESS. So the gods preserve thee! [Exit. CES. Come hither, Proculeius. Go, and say, We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts The quality of her passion shall require, And with your speediest bring us what she says, PRO. Cæsar, I shall. To second Proculeius? AGR., MEC. [Exit. [Exit GALLUS. Where's Dolabella, Dolabella! |