1    Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;
2    Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks
3    The pauses that he makes.

4    Caesar, I shall.

5    Wherefore is that? and what art thou that darest
6    Appear thus to us?

7    I am call'd Dercetas;
8    Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy
9    Best to be served: whilst he stood up and spoke,
10   He was my master; and I wore my life
11   To spend upon his haters. If thou please
12   To take me to thee, as I was to him
13   I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not,
14   I yield thee up my life.

15   What is't thou say'st?

16   I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.

17   The breaking of so great a thing should make
18   A greater crack: the round world
19   Should have shook lions into civil streets,
20   And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony
21   Is not a single doom; in the name lay
22   A moiety of the world.

23   He is dead, Caesar:
24   Not by a public minister of justice,
25   Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand,
26   Which writ his honour in the acts it did,
27   Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,
28   Splitted the heart. This is his sword;
29   I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd
30   With his most noble blood.

31   Look you sad, friends?
32   The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings
33   To wash the eyes of kings.

34   And strange it is,
35   That nature must compel us to lament
36   Our most persisted deeds.

37   His taints and honours
38   Waged equal with him.

39   A rarer spirit never
40   Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us
41   Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch'd.

42   When such a spacious mirror's set before him,
43   He needs must see himself.

44   O Antony!
45   I have follow'd thee to this; but we do lance
46   Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce
47   Have shown to thee such a declining day,
48   Or look on thine; we could not stall together
49   In the whole world: but yet let me lament,
50   With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,
51   That thou, my brother, my competitor
52   In top of all design, my mate in empire,
53   Friend and companion in the front of war,
54   The arm of mine own body, and the heart
55   Where mine his thoughts did kindle,--that our stars,
56   Unreconciliable, should divide
57   Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends--
58   But I will tell you at some meeter season:
Enter an Egyptian
59   The business of this man looks out of him;
60   We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you?

61   A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress,
62   Confined in all she has, her monument,
63   Of thy intents desires instruction,
64   That she preparedly may frame herself
65   To the way she's forced to.

66   Bid her have good heart:
67   She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,
68   How honourable and how kindly we
69   Determine for her; for Caesar cannot live
70   To be ungentle.

71   So the gods preserve thee!

72   Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say,
73   We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts
74   The quality of her passion shall require,
75   Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke
76   She do defeat us; for her life in Rome
77   Would be eternal in our triumph: go,
78   And with your speediest bring us what she says,
79   And how you find of her.

80   Caesar, I shall.

81   Gallus, go you along.
Exit GALLUS
82   Where's Dolabella,
83   To second Proculeius?

84   Dolabella!

85   Let him alone, for I remember now
86   How he's employ'd: he shall in time be ready.
87   Go with me to my tent; where you shall see
88   How hardly I was drawn into this war;
89   How calm and gentle I proceeded still
90   In all my writings: go with me, and see
91   What I can show in this.