(1) That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave
Their wishes, do difcandy, melt their fweets
On bloffoming Cafar: and this pine is bark'd,
That over-topt them all. Betray'd I am.

Oh, this false foul of Ægypt! (2) this grave Charm, Whofe eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home,

Whose bofom was my Crownet, my chief end,
Like a right Gipfy, hath at faft and loofe
Beguil'd me (3) to the very heart of lofs.
What, Eros, Eros!

Enter Cleopatra.

Ah! thou fpell! avaunt.

Cleo. Why is my Lord enrag'd against his Love? Ant. Vanish, or I fhall give thee thy deferving, And blemish Cafar's Triumph. Let him take thee And hoift thee up to the fhouting Plebeians; Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot

Of all thy fex. (4) Most monster like, be fhewn

(1) That Spaniel'd me at heels, -]

All the editions read,

That pannel'd me at heels

For

Sir T. Hanmer fubftituted Spaniel'd by an emendation, with which is was reafonable to expect that even rival commentators would be fatisfied; yet Dr. Warburton proposes pantler'd in a note of which he is not injured by the fuppreffion, and Mr. Upton having in his first edition propofed plaufibly enough,

That paged me at heels,

in the fecond edition retracts his alteration, and maintains pannell'd to be the right reading, being a metaphor taken, he fays, from a pannel of wainscot.

(2)this grave charm,] I know not by what authority, nor for what reafon, this grave Charm, which the firft, the only original copy, exhibits, has been through all the modern editions changed to this gay Charm. By this grave Charm, is meant, this fublime, this majestick beauty.

(3)-to the

very heart of lofs.] To the utmost lofs poffible." (4)-Moft monster-like be bewn

For poor ft diminutives, for DOLTS;

As the allufion here is to monsters carried about in fhows, it is

plain, that the words, for poorest diminutives, must mean for the

leaft

For poor'ft diminutives, for dolts; and let
Patient Octavia plough thy vifage up

(5) With her prepared nails. 'Tis well, thou'rt gone;
[Exit Cleopatra..
If it be well to live. But better 'twere,
Thou fell'ft into my fury; for one death
Might have prevented many. Eros, hoa!
The fhirt of Neffus is upon me; teach me,
Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage.

(6) Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' th' Moon,
And with thofe hands that grafpt the heaviest club,
Subdue my worthieft felf. The Witch fhall die;
To the young Roman boy fhe had fold me, and I fall
Under his plot: fhe dies for 't. Eros, hoa! [Exit

Re-enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardian.

Cleo. Help me, my women! oh, he is more mad Than Telamon for his fhield; the boar of Theffaly Was never fo imboft.

Char. To th' monument,

There lock yourself, and fend him word you're dead.. The foul and body rive not more in parting,

Than Greatnefs going off.

Cleo. To th' Monument::

Mardian, go tell him I have flain myself,

Say that the laft I spoke was Antony;

leaft piece of money; we must therefore read the next word,

for DOITS, . e. farthings,.

which fhews what he means by pooreft diminutives.

WARBI

WARBUR..

(5) With her prepared nails.-] i. e. with nails which she fuffered to grow for this purpofe.. (6) Let me lodge Lichas

tby rage

-] Sir T. Hanmer reads thus,,

Led thee lodge Lichas-and

Subdue thy worthieft felf.-.

This reading, harsh as it is, Dr. Warburton has received, after having rejecting many better. The meaning is, Let me do fomething in my rage, becoming the fucceffor of Hercules.

Led thee lodge Lichas on the horns o' th' mocn.

This image our poet feems to have taken from Seneca's Hércules, who fays Lichas being launched into the air, fprinkled the clouds with his blood. Sophocles, on the fame occafion, talks at a much foberer rate. WARBURTON,

And word it, pr'ythee, piteously. Hence, Mardian, And bring me how he takes my death. To th' Mo[Exeunt.

nument.

SCENE XI.

Re-enter Antony and Eros.

Ant. Eros, thou yet behold'ft me.
Eros. Ay, noble Lord.

Ant. Sometime, we fee a cloud that's dragonifh;
A vapour, fometime, like a bear, or lion,
A tower'd 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'ft feen thefe figns,
They are black Vefpers pageants.

Eros. Ay, my

Lord.

Ant. That, which is now a horfe, ev'n with a thought

The Rack diflimns, and makes it indiftinct

As water is in water.

Eros. It does, my Lord.

Ant. My good knave, Eros, now thy Captain is Ev'n fuch a body; here I'm Antony,

Yet cannot hold this vifible fhape, my knave.
I made thefe wars for Egypt; and the Queen,
Whofe heart, I thought, I had, for fhe had mine;
(Which, whilft it was mine, had annex'd unto't
A million more, now loft!) fhe, Eros, has

(7) Pack'd cards with Cafar, and falfe play'd my Glory

(7) Pack'd cards with Cæfar, and falfe play'd my Glory Unto an enemy's triumph.] Shakespeare has here, as ufual, taken his metaphor from a low trivial fubject; but has ennobled it with much art, by fo contriving that the principal term in the fubject from whence the metaphor was taken, fhould belong to, and fuit the dignity of the fubject to which the metaphor is transferred: thereby providing at once for the integrity of the figure, and the noblenefs of the thought. And this by the word TRIUMPH, which either fignifies Octavius's conquefts, or what we now call, contractedly, the trump at cards, then called the triumph or the triumphing fort. WARBURTON. This explanation is very juft, the thought did not deserve so good an annotation.

Unto

Unto an enemy's triumph..

Nay, weep not, gentle Eros, there is left us
Ourfelves to end ourselves.

Oh, thy vile Lady!

Enter Mardian.

Sh' has robb'd me of my fword.

Mar. No, Antony,

My Miftrefs lov'd thee, and her fortunes mingled
With thine intirely.

Ant. Hence, faucy Eunuch, peace. She hath betray'd me,

And fhe fhall die the death.

Mar. Death of one perfon can be paid but once, And that he has difcharg'd. What thou wouldst do, Is done unto thy hand; the laft the fpake

Was, Antony! moft noble Antony!

Then in the midft a tearing Groan did break

The name of Antony; it was divided

Between her heart and lips; fhe rendred life,

Thy name fo buried in her.

Ant. Dead then?

Mar. Dead.

Ant. Unarm me, Eros, the long day's talk is done,

And we muft fleep. That thou depart'ft hence fafe,

Does pay thy labour richly. Go. [Exit Mardian Off, pluck off;.

The feven-fold fhield of Ajax cannot keep.

(8) the battery from my heart. Oh cleave, my fides! Heart, once be ftronger than thy continent,

Crack thy frail cafe!-apace, Eros, apace.

No more a Soldier

-Bruifed pieces, go;

[Unarming himself.

You have been nobly borne. From me a while

So 't must be for now

I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and

- Weep for my pardon. All length is torture.

Since the torch is out,

(8) The battery from my heart.-] I would read,,
This battery from my heart.

Lie

Lie down and fray no further. Now all labour
Marrs what it does, yea, very force entangles
Itself with ftrength; (9) feal then, and all is done.
Eros!-I come, my Queen-Eros!-Stay for me,
Where fouls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand,
And with our fprightly port make the Ghosts.
Dido and her Eneas fhall want troops,
And all the haunt be ours-

Enter Eros.

Eros. What would my Lord?
Ant. Since Cleopatra died,

gaze;

-Come, Eros, Eros!

I've liv'd in fuch difhonour, that the Gods
Deteft my bafenefs. I, that with my fword
Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back,
With fhips, made cities, condemn myfelf, to lack
The courage of a woman; lefs noble-minded
Than fhe, which, by her death, our Cafar tells,
"I'm conqueror of myself." Thou art fworn, Eros,
That when the exigent fhould come, which now
Is come indeed, when I should fee behind me
Th' inevitable profecution of difgrace

And horror, that on my command thou then
Would't kill me. Do it, for the time is come.
Thou ftrik't not me, 'tis Cafar thou defeat'st.
Put colour in thy cheek.

Eros. The Gods with-hold me!

Shall I do that, which all the Parthian darts,
Though enemy, loft aim, and could not?
Ant. Eros,

(9)-feal then, and a'l is done.] Metaphor taken from civit contracts, where, when all is agreed on, the fealing compleats the contract; fo he had determined to die, and nothing remain'd but to give the ftroke. The Oxford Editor not apprehending this, alters it to fleep thenWARBURTON.

I believe the reading is,

-feel then, and all is done.

To feel Hawks, is to clofe their eyes.

fince the torch is out,

The meaning will be,

Lie down and fray no further. Now all labeur
Marrs what it does, feel then, and all is done.-

Clofe thine eyes for ever, and be quiet.

Would