Part 37

Cleo. No, let me speake, and let me rayle so hye, That the false Huswife Fortune, breake her Wheele, Prouok'd by my offence

Ant. One word (sweet Queene) Of Caesar seeke your Honour, with your safety. Oh

Cleo. They do not go together

Ant. Gentle heare me, None about Caesar trust, but Proculeius

Cleo. My Resolution, and my hands, Ile trust, None about Caesar

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 liued. The greatest Prince o'th' world, The Noblest: and do now not basely dye, Not Cowardly put off my Helmet to My Countreyman. A Roman, by a Roman Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my Spirit is going, I can no more

Cleo. Noblest of men, woo't dye? Hast thou no care of me, shall I abide In this dull world, which in thy absence is No better then a Stye? Oh see my women: The Crowne o'th' earth doth melt. My Lord? Oh wither'd is the Garland of the Warre, The Souldiers pole is falne: young Boyes and Gyrles Are leuell now with men: The oddes is gone, And there is nothing left remarkeable Beneath the visiting Moone

Char. Oh quietnesse, Lady

Iras. She's dead too, our Soueraigne

Char. Lady

Iras. Madam

Char. Oh Madam, Madam, Madam

Iras. Royall Egypt: Empresse

Char. Peace, peace, Iras

Cleo. No more but in a Woman, and commanded By such poore passion, as the Maid that Milkes, And doe's the meanest chares. It were for me, To throw my Scepter at the iniurious Gods, To tell them that this World did equall theyrs, Till they had stolne our Iewell. All's but naught: Patience is sortish, and impatience does Become a Dogge that's mad: Then is it sinne, To rush into the secret house of death, Ere death dare come to vs. How do you Women? What, what good cheere? Why how now Charmian? My Noble Gyrles? Ah Women, women! Looke Our Lampe is spent, it's out. Good sirs, take heart, Wee'l bury him: And then, what's braue, what's Noble, Let's doo't after the high Roman fashion, And make death proud to take vs. Come, away, This case of that huge Spirit now is cold. Ah Women, Women! Come, we haue no Friend But Resolution, and the breefest end.

Exeunt., bearing of Anthonies body.

Enter Caesar, Agrippa, Dollabella, Menas, with his Counsell of Warre.

Caesar. Go to him Dollabella, bid him yeeld, Being so frustrate, tell him, He mockes the pawses that he makes

Dol. Caesar, I shall. Enter Decretas with the sword of Anthony.

Caes Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar'st Appeare thus to vs? Dec. I am call'd Decretas, Marke Anthony I seru'd, who best was worthie Best to be seru'd: whil'st he stood vp, and spoke He was my Master, and I wore my life To spend vpon his haters. If thou please To take me to thee, as I was to him, Ile be to Caesar: if y pleasest not, I yeild thee vp my life

Caesar. What is't thou say'st? Dec. I say (Oh Caesar) Anthony is dead

Caesar. The breaking of so great a thing, should make A greater cracke. The round World Should haue shooke Lyons into ciuill streets, And Cittizens to their dennes. The death of Anthony Is not a single doome, in the name lay A moity of the world

Dec. He is dead Caesar, Not by a publike minister of Iustice, Nor by a hyred Knife, but that selfe-hand Which writ his Honor in the Acts it did, Hath with the Courage which the heart did lend it, Splitted the heart. This is his Sword, I robb'd his wound of it: behold it stain'd With his most Noble blood

Caes Looke you sad Friends, The Gods rebuke me, but it is Tydings To wash the eyes of Kings

Dol. And strange it is, That Nature must compell vs to lament Our most persisted deeds

Mec. His taints and Honours, wag'd equal with him

Dola. A Rarer spirit neuer Did steere humanity: but you Gods will giue vs Some faults to make vs men. Caesar is touch'd

Mec. When such a spacious Mirror's set before him, He needes must see him selfe