SCENE IX
If we be not relieved within this hour,
We must return to the court of guard: the night
Is shiny; and they say we shall embattle
By the second hour i’ the morn.
This last day was
A shrewd one to’s.
O, bear me witness, night, – |
What man is this?
Stand close, and list him. |
Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon,
When men revolted shall upon record
Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did
Before thy face repent!
Enobarbus!
Peace!
Hark further.
O sovereign mistress of true melancholy,
The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me,
That life, a very rebel to my will,
May hang no longer on me: throw my heart
Against the flint and hardness of my fault:
Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder,
And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony,
Nobler than my revolt is infamous,
Forgive me in thine own particular;
But let the world rank me in register
A master-leaver and a fugitive:
O Antony! O Antony!
Let’s speak To him.
Let’s hear him, for the things he speaks
May concern Caesar.
Let’s do so. But he sleeps.
Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his
Was never yet for sleep.
Go we to him.
Awake, sir, awake; speak to us.
Hear you, sir?
The hand of death hath raught him.
Hark! the drums |
To the court of guard; he is of note: our hour
Is fully out.
Come on, then;
He may recover yet.