Demuring upon me.

But come, come, Antony.

Help me, my women; we must draw thee up-
Affift, good friends.

Ant. Oh, quick, or I am gone.

Cleo. Here's fport indeed!how heavy weighs my
Lord!

Our ftrength is all gone into heaviness,

That makes the weight. Had I great Juno's power,
The ftrong-wing'd Mercury fhould fetch thee up,
And fet thee by Jove's fide. Yet come a little,-
Wishers were ever fools. Oh come, come, come-
[They draw Antony up to Cleopatra.
And welcome, welcome. Die, where thou haft liv'd;
Quicken with kiffing; had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.

All. O heavy fight!

Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying.

Give me fome wine, and let me fpeak a little.
Cleo. No, let me fpeak, and let me rail fo high,
That the falle hufwife Fortune break her wheel,
Provok'd by my offence.

Ant. One word, fweet Queen.

Of Cafar feek your honour, with your fafety-oh-
Cleo. They do not go together.

Ant. Gentle, hear me ;

None about Cæfar truft, but Proculeius.

Cleo. My refolution, and my hands, I'll truft; None about Cæfar.

Ant. The miserable change, now at my end,
Lament, nor forrow at; but pleafe your thoughts
In feeding them with those my former fortunes,
Wherein I liv'd the greatest prince o' th' world,
The noblest once; and do not now bafely die,
Nor cowardly put off my helmet to

My countryman: A Roman, by à Roman
Valiantly vanquish'd. Now, my fpirit is going;
I can no more-

Cleo. Nobleft of men!-woo't die?
Haft thou no care of me? shall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy absence is

[Antony dies

No

No better than a ftye? O fee, my women!
The crown o' th' earth doth melt-my Lord!
Oh, wither'd is the garland of the war,

The foldier'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 vifiting moon.

Char. Oh, quietness, Lady!

Iras. She's dead too, our fovereign.

Char. Lady.!

Iras. Madam!

Char. Oh Madam, Madam, Madam

Iras. Royal Egypt! Empress!

Char. Peace, peace, Iras.

[She faints.

Cleo. No more but a meer woman, and commanded

By fuch poor paffion as the maid that milks,

And does the meanest chares !It were for me
To throw my fcepter at the injurious Gods;
To tell them, that this world did equal theirs,
'Till they had ftol'n our jewel. All's but naught:
Patience is fottifh, and impatience does

Become a dog that's mad: Then is it fin,
To rush into the fecret houfe 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 fpent, 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 cafe of that huge fpirit now is cold.
Ah, women, women! come, we have no friend
But refolution, and the briefeft end.

[Exeunt, bearing off Antony's body.

ACT

A C T V.

SCENE, Cæfar's Camp.

(32) Enter Cæfar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Mecænas, Gallus, and Train.

CESAR.

O to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;

G Being fo fruftrate, tell him,

He mocks the pauses that he makes. Dol. Cafar, I fhall. (33)

[Exit Dolabella.

(32) Enter Cæfar, Agrippa, Dolabella, and MENAS.] But Menas and Menocrates, we may remember, were the two famous Pirates link'd with Sextus Pompeius, and who affifted him to infeft the Italian Coaft. We no where learn, exprefly in the Play, that Menas ever attach'd himself to Octavius's Party. Notwithstanding the old Folio's concur in marking the Entrance thus, yet in the two places in the Scene, where this Character is made to fpeak, they are mark'd in the Margin, Mzc. fo that, as Dr. Thirlby fagaciously conjectur'd, we must cashier Menas, and substitute Mecanas in his Room. Menas, indeed, deferted to Cæfar no less than twice, and was preferr'd by him. But then we are to confider, Alexandria was taken, and Antony kill'd himself, Anno U. C, 723. Menas made the fecond Revolt over to Auguftus, U. C. 717: and the next Year was flain at the Siege of Belgrade in Pannonia, five Years before the Death of Antony.

(33) Dol. Cæfar, I fball.] I make no Doubt, but it should be mark'd here, that Dolabella goes out. 'Tis reasonable to imagine, he should presently depart, upon Cafar's Command'; fe that the Speeches, placed to him in the Sequel of this Scene, must be transferr'd to Agrippa, or he is introduced as a Mute. Befides, that Dolabella fhould be gone out, appears from This, that when Cafar asks for him, he recollects that he had fent him on Business.

Enter

Enter Dercetas, with the faword of Antony.

Caf. Wherefore is that? and what art thou, that dar'ft

Appear thus to us?

Der. I am call'd Dercetas;

Mark Antony I ferv'd, who beft was worthy
Beft to be ferv'd; whilft he ftood up, and spoke,
He was my mafter, 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 Cafar: If thou pleaseft not,
I yield thee up my life.

Caf. What is't thou fay'ft?

Der. I fay, oh, Cafar, Antony is dead.

Caf. The breaking of fo great a thing fhould make A greater crack. The round world fhould have fhook Lions into civil ftreets, and citizens

Into their dens

The death of Antony

Is not a fingle doom, in that name lay
A moiety of the world.

Der. He is dead, Cafar,

Not by a publick minifter of juftice,

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 fword,

I robb'd his wound of it: behold it ftain'd
With his most noble blood.

Caf. Look you fad, friends:

The Gods rebuke me, but it is a tiding

To wash the eyes of Kings!

Agr. And ftrange it is,

That nature muft compel us to lament

Our most perfifted deeds.

Mec. His taints and honours

Weigh'd equal in him.

Agr. A rarer fpirit never

Did fteer humanity; but you Gods will give us
Some faults to make us men. Cæfar is touch'd.

Mee.

Mec. When fuch a fpacious mirror's fet before him, He needs must fee himself.

Caf. O Antony!

I've follow'd thee to this

-but we do lance

Diseases in our bodies. I must perforce
Have fhewn to thee fuch a declining day,
Or look on thine; we could not stall together
In the whole world. But yet let me lament
With tears as fovereign as the blood of hearts,
That thou my brother, my competitor
In top of all defign, my mate in Empire,
Friend and companion in the front of war,
The arm of mine own body, and the heart
Where mine its thoughts did kindle; that our ftars,
Unreconcileable, fhould have divided

Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends,
But I will tell you at fome meeter season.
The bufinefs of this man looks out of him,
We'll hear him what he fays. Whence are you?
Enter an Egyptian.

Egypt. A poor Egyptian yet; the Queen my mistress, Confin'd in all the has, (her monument)

Of thy intents defires inftruction;

That the preparedly may frame herself
To th' way fhe's forc'd to.

Gaf. Bid her have good heart;

She foon fhall know of us, by fome of ours,
How honourably and how kindly we

Determine for her. For Cæfar cannot live,
To be ungentle.

Egypt. May the Gods preferve thee!

Caf. Come hither, Proculeius; go, and fay,
We purpose her no fhame; give her what comforts
The quality of her paffion fhall require;
Left in her greatnefs by fome mortal stroke
She do defeat us: for her life in Rome
Would be eternal in our triumph. Go,
And with your speedieft bring us what she says,
And how you find of her.

[Exit.

Fre