Page 2543 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

Provok’d by my offence.

ANTONY
One word, sweet queen: [45]
Of Cæsar seek your honour, with your safety. O!

CLEOPATRA
They do not go together.

ANTONY
Gentle, hear me,
None about Cæsar trust but Proculeius.

CLEOPATRA
My resolution, and my hands, I’ll trust,
None about Cæsar. [50]

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 liv’d: the greatest prince o’ the world,
The noblest; and do now not basely die, [55]
Not cowardly put off my helmet to
My countryman: a Roman, by a Roman

Valianty 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 [60]

In this dull world, which in thy absence is
No better than a sty? O, see, my women:
The crown o’ the earth doth melt.
(Antony dies.)

My lord?
O, wither’d is the garland of the war,