Cleopatra is hiding in her monument, awaiting news of her lover, Marc
O Charmian, I will never go from hence.
Be comforted, dear madam.
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?
His death's upon him, but not dead.
Look out o' the other side your monument;
His guard have brought him thither.
[Enter, below, MARK ANTONY, borne by the Guard]
Burn the great sphere thou movest in!
The varying shore o' the world. O Antony,
Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help;
Help, friends below; let's draw him hither.
Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself.
More about this monologue