Shakespeare's First Folio Part 665

Enter Mardian.

Oh thy vilde Lady, she has rob'd me of my Sword

Mar. No Anthony, My Mistris lou'd thee, and her Fortunes mingled with thine intirely

Ant. Hence sawcy Eunuch peace, she hath betraid me, And shall dye the death

Mar. Death of one person, can be paide but once, And that she ha's discharg'd. What thou would'st do Is done vnto thy hand: the last she spake Was Anthony, most n.o.ble Anthony.

Then in the midd'st a tearing grone did breake The name of Anthony: it was diuided Betweene her heart, and lips: she tendred life Thy name so buried in her

Ant. Dead then?

Mar. Dead

Ant. Vnarme Eros, the long dayes taske is done, And we must sleepe: That thou depart'st hence safe Does pay thy labour richly: Go.

exit Mardian.

Off, plucke off, The seuen-fold s.h.i.+eld of Aiax cannot keepe The battery from my heart. Oh cleaue my sides.

Heart, once be stronger then thy Continent, Cracke thy fraile Case. Apace Eros, apace; No more a Soldier: bruised peeces go, You haue bin n.o.bly borne. From me awhile.

exit Eros

I will o're-take thee Cleopatra, and Weepe for my pardon. So it must be, for now All length is Torture: since the Torch is out, Lye downe and stray no farther. Now all labour Marres what it does: yea, very force entangles It selfe with strength: Seale then and all is done.

Eros? I come my Queene. Eros? Stay for me, Where Soules do couch on Flowers, wee'l hand in hand, And with our sprightly Port make the Ghostes gaze: Dido, and her Aeneas shall want Troopes, And all the haunt be ours. Come Eros, Eros.

Enter Eros.

Eros. What would my Lord?

Ant. Since Cleopatra dyed, I haue liu'd in such dishonour, that the G.o.ds Detest my basenesse. I, that with my Sword, Quarter'd the World, and o're greene Neptunes backe With s.h.i.+ps, made Cities; condemne my selfe, to lacke The Courage of a Woman, lesse n.o.ble minde Then she which by her death, our Caesar telles I am Conqueror of my selfe. Thou art sworne Eros, That when the exigent should come, which now Is come indeed: When I should see behinde me Th' ineuitable prosecution of disgrace and horror, That on my command, thou then would'st kill me.

Doo't, the time is come: Thou strik'st not me, 'Tis Caesar thou defeat'st. Put colour in thy Cheeke

Eros. The G.o.ds with-hold me, Shall I do that which all the Parthian Darts, (Though Enemy) lost ayme, and could not

Ant. Eros, Would'st thou be window'd in great Rome, and see Thy Master thus with pleacht Armes, bending downe His corrigible necke, his face subdu'de To penetratiue shame; whil'st the wheel'd seate Of Fortunate Caesar drawne before him, branded His Basenesse that ensued

Eros. I would not see't

Ant. Come then: for with a wound I must be cur'd.

Draw that thy honest Sword, which thou hast worne Most vsefull for thy Country

Eros. Oh sir, pardon me

Ant. When I did make thee free, swor'st y not then To do this when I bad thee? Do it at once, Or thy precedent Seruices are all But accidents vnpurpos'd. Draw, and come

Eros. Turne from me then that n.o.ble countenance, Wherein the wors.h.i.+p of the whole world lyes

Ant. Loe thee

Eros. My sword is drawne

Ant. Then let it do at once The thing why thou hast drawne it

Eros. My deere Master, My Captaine, and my Emperor. Let me say Before I strike this b.l.o.o.d.y stroke, Farwell

Ant. 'Tis said man, and farewell

Eros. Farewell great Chiefe. Shall I strike now?

Ant. Now Eros.

Killes himselfe.

Eros. Why there then: Thus I do escape the sorrow of Anthonies death

Ant. Thrice-n.o.bler then my selfe, Thou teachest me: Oh valiant Eros, what I should, and thou could'st not, my Queene and Eros Haue by their braue instruction got vpon me A n.o.blenesse in Record. But I will bee A Bride-groome in my death, and run intoo't As to a Louers bed. Come then, and Eros, Thy Master dies thy Scholler; to do thus I learnt of thee. How, not dead? Not dead?

The Guard, how? Oh dispatch me.

Enter a Guard.

1.Guard. What's the noise?

Ant. I haue done my worke ill Friends: Oh make an end of what I haue begun

2 The Starre is falne

1 And time is at his Period

All. Alas, and woe

Ant. Let him that loues me, strike me dead

1 Not I

2 Nor I

3 Nor any one.

Exeunt.

Decretus. Thy death and fortunes bid thy folowers fly This sword but shewne to Caesar with this tydings, Shall enter me with him.

Enter Diomedes.

Dio. Where's Anthony?

Decre. There Diomed there

Diom. Liues he: wilt thou not answer man?

Ant. Art thou there Diomed?

Draw thy sword, and giue mee, Suffising strokes for death

Diom. Most absolute Lord: My Mistris Cleopatra sent me to thee

Ant. When did shee send thee?

Diom. Now my Lord