Eros, thou yet behold’st me?

Ay, noble lord.

Sometime we see a cloud that’s dragonish,

A vapour sometime like a bear or lion,

A towered 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.

Ay, my lord.

That which is now a horse, even with a thought

The rack dislimns and makes it indistinct

As water is in water.

It does, my lord.

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 annexed unto’t

A million more, now lost—she, Eros, has

Packed cards with Caesar, and false-played my glory

Unto an enemy’s triumph.

Nay, weep not, gentle Eros. There is left us

Ourselves to end ourselves.

O, thy vile lady!

She has robbed me of my sword.

No, Antony,

My mistress loved thee and her fortunes mingled

With thine entirely.

Hence, saucy eunuch! Peace!

She hath betrayed me and shall die the death.

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 rendered life,

Thy name so buried in her.

Dead, then?

Dead.

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.

Off, pluck off!

The sevenfold 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.

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!

What would my lord?

Since Cleopatra died,

I have lived in such dishonour that the gods

Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword

Quartered 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

Th’ inevitable prosecution of

Disgrace and horror, that on my command

Thou then wouldst kill me. Do’t. The time is come.

Thou strik’st not me; ’tis Caesar thou defeat’st.

Put colour in thy cheek.

The gods withhold me!

Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts,

Though enemy, lost aim and could not?

Eros,

Wouldst thou be windowed in great Rome and see

Thy master thus with pleached arms, bending down

His corrigible neck, his face subdued

To penetrative shame, whilst the wheeled seat

Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded

His baseness that ensued?

I would not see’t.

Come, then, for with a wound I must be cured.

Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn

Most useful for thy country.

O, sir, pardon me!

When I did make thee free, swor’st 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.

Turn from me then that noble countenance

Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.

Lo thee!

My sword is drawn.

Then let it do at once

The thing why thou hast drawn it.

My dear master,

My captain and my emperor, let me say,

Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.

’Tis said, man, and farewell.

Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now?

Now, Eros.

Why, there then! [_kills himself_]

Thus do I escape the sorrow

Of Antony’s death.

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

I learned of thee. How? Not dead? Not dead?

The guard, ho! O, dispatch me!

What’s the noise?

I have done my work ill, friends. O, make an end

Of what I have begun.

The star is fallen.

And time is at his period.

Alas, and woe!

Let him that loves me strike me dead.

Not I.

Nor I.

Nor anyone.

Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly.

This sword but shown to Caesar with this tidings,

Shall enter me with him.

Where’s Antony?

There, Diomed, there.

Lives he? Wilt thou not answer, man?

Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword and give me

Sufficing strokes for death.

Most absolute lord,

My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.

When did she send thee?

Now, my lord.

Where is she?

Locked 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.

Too late, good Diomed. Call my guard, I prithee.

What, ho! The emperor’s guard! The guard, what ho!

Come, your lord calls!

Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides.

’Tis the last service that I shall command you.

Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear

All your true followers out.

Most heavy day!

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.