ACT IV
SCENE XIV. Alexandria. Another Room.
[Enter Antony and Eros.]
ANTONY
Eros, thou yet behold’st me?
ANTONY
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.
ANTONY
That which is now a horse, even with a thought
The rack dislimns and makes it indistinct
As water is in water.
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 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.
[Enter Mardian.]
O, thy vile lady! She has robbed me of my sword.
MARDIAN
No, Antony,
My mistress loved thee and her fortunes mingled
With thine entirely.
ANTONY
Hence, saucy eunuch! Peace!
She hath betrayed me and shall die the death.
MARDIAN
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.
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 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.
[Exit Eros.]
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!
[Enter Eros.]
ANTONY
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.
EROS
The gods withhold me!
Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts,
Though enemy, lost aim and could not?
ANTONY
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?
ANTONY
Come, then, for with a wound I must be cured.
Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn
Most useful for thy country.
ANTONY
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.
EROS
Turn from me then that noble countenance
Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.
[Turning from him.]
ANTONY
Then let it do at once
The thing why thou hast drawn it.
EROS
My dear master,
My captain and my emperor, let me say,
Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.
ANTONY
’Tis said, man, and farewell.
EROS
Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now?
EROS
Why, there then! [kills himself]
Thus do I escape the sorrow
Of Antony’s death.
[Dies.]
ANTONY
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
[Falling on his sword.]
I learned of thee. How? Not dead? Not dead? The guard, ho! O, dispatch me!
[Enter a company of the Guard, one of them Dercetus.]
FIRST GUARD
What’s the noise?
ANTONY
I have done my work ill, friends. O, make an end
Of what I have begun.
SECOND GUARD
The star is fallen.
FIRST GUARD
And time is at his period.
ANTONY
Let him that loves me strike me dead.
[Exeunt guard.]
DERCETUS
Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly.
This sword but shown to Caesar with this tidings,
Shall enter me with him.
[Enter Diomedes.]
DERCETUS
There, Diomed, there.
DIOMEDES
Lives he? Wilt thou not answer, man?
[Exit Dercetus.]
ANTONY
Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword and give me
Sufficing strokes for death.
DIOMEDES
Most absolute lord,
My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.
ANTONY
When did she send thee?
DIOMEDES
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.
ANTONY
Too late, good Diomed. Call my guard, I prithee.
DIOMEDES
What, ho! The emperor’s guard! The guard, what ho!
Come, your lord calls!
[Enter four or five of the Guard of Antony.]
ANTONY
Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides.
’Tis the last service that I shall command you.
FIRST GUARD
Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear
All your true followers out.
ANTONY
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.
[Exeunt, bearing Antony.]