Antony and Cleopatra William Shakespeare (easy readers TXT) 📖

I have begun. Second Guard The star is fall’n. First Guard And time is at his period. All Alas, and woe! Antony Let him that loves me strike me dead. First Guard Not I. Second Guard Nor I. Third Guard Nor any one. Exeunt Guard. Dercetas

Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly.
This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings,
Shall enter me with him.

Enter Diomedes. Diomedes Where’s Antony? Dercetas There, Diomed, there. Diomedes

Lives he?
Wilt thou not answer, man? Exit Dercetas.

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 Now, my lord. Antony Where is she? Diomedes

Lock’d 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.

All Most heavy day! 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.

Scene XV

The same. A monument.

Enter Cleopatra and her maids aloft, with Charmian and Iras. Cleopatra O Charmian, I will never go from hence. Charmian Be comforted, dear madam. Cleopatra

No, I will not:
All strange and terrible events are welcome,
But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow,
Proportion’d to our cause, must be as great
As that which makes it.

Enter, below, Diomedes. How now! is he dead? Diomedes

His death’s upon him, but not dead.
Look out o’ the other side your monument;
His guard have brought him thither.

Enter, below, Antony, borne by the Guard. Cleopatra

O sun,
Burn the great sphere thou movest in! darkling stand
The varying shore o’ the world. O Antony,
Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help;
Help, friends below; let’s draw him hither.

Antony

Peace!
Not Caesar’s valour hath o’erthrown Antony,
But Antony’s hath triumph’d on itself.

Cleopatra

So it should be, that none but Antony
Should conquer Antony; but woe ’tis so!

Antony

I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
I here importune death awhile, until
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay upon thy lips.

Cleopatra

I dare not, dear⁠—
Dear my lord, pardon⁠—I dare not,
Lest I be taken: not the imperious show
Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall
Be brooch’d with me; if knife, drugs, serpents, have
Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe:
Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes
And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour
Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony⁠—
Help me, my women⁠—we must draw thee up:
Assist, good friends.

Antony O, quick, or I am gone. Cleopatra

Here’s sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord!
Our strength is all gone into heaviness,
That makes the weight: had I great Juno’s power,
The strong-wing’d Mercury should fetch thee up,
And set thee by Jove’s side. Yet come a little⁠—
Wishes were ever fools⁠—O, come, come, come; They heave Antony aloft to Cleopatra.
And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived:
Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.

All A heavy sight! Antony

I am dying, Egypt, dying:
Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.

Cleopatra

No, let me speak; and let me rail so high,
That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel,
Provoked by my offence.

Antony

One word, sweet queen:
Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O!

Cleopatra They do not go together. Antony

Gentle, hear me:
None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.

Cleopatra

My resolution and my hands I’ll trust;
None about Caesar.

Antony

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 lived, the greatest prince o’ the world,
The noblest; and do now not basely die,
Not cowardly put off my helmet to
My countryman⁠—a Roman by a Roman
Valiantly vanquish’d. Now my spirit is going;
I can no more.

Cleopatra

Noblest of men, woo’t die?
Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy absence is
No better than a sty? O, see, my women, Antony dies.
The crown o’ the earth doth melt. My lord!
O, wither’d is the garland of the war,
The soldier’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 visiting moon. Faints.

Charmian O, quietness, lady! Iras She is dead too, our sovereign. Charmian Lady! Iras Madam! Charmian O madam, madam, madam! Iras

Royal Egypt,
Empress!

Charmian Peace, peace, Iras! Cleopatra

No more, but e’en a woman, and commanded
By such poor passion as the maid that milks
And does the meanest chares. It were for me
To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods;
To tell them that this world did equal theirs
Till they had stol’n our jewel. All’s but naught;
Patience is scottish, and impatience does
Become a dog that’s mad: then is it sin
To rush into the secret house 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 spent, 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 case of that huge spirit now is cold:
Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend
But resolution, and the briefest end. Exeunt; those above bearing off Antony’s body.