Antony and Cleopatra, Act 5, Scene 1

Caesar

Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield.Being so frustrate, tell him, he mocksThe pauses that he makes.

Go to him, Dolabella, and tell him to surrender. Tell him that, with his plans so completely defeated, he makes a mockery of himself by delaying.

Dolabella

Caesar, I shall.

Caesar, I will.

Caesar

Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar’stAppear thus to us?

What is that for? And who are you, daring to appear before us like this?

Dercetus

I am called Dercetus.Mark Antony I served, who best was worthyBest to be served. Whilst he stood up and spoke,He was my master, and I wore my lifeTo spend upon his haters. If thou pleaseTo take me to thee, as I was to himI’ll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not,I yield thee up my life.

My name is Dercetus. I served Mark Antony, who deserved the best service of any man. As long as he could stand and speak, he was my master, and I kept my life ready to spend fighting his enemies. If you choose to take me into your service, I will be as loyal to Caesar as I was to him. If you choose not to, I surrender my life to you.

Caesar

What is’t thou say’st?

What are you saying?

Dercetus

I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.

I am saying, Caesar, that Antony is dead.

Caesar

The breaking of so great a thing should makeA greater crack. The round worldShould have shook lions into civil streets,And citizens to their dens. The death of AntonyIs not a single doom; in the name layA moiety of the world.

The destruction of something so great should make a louder crash. The whole earth should have shaken lions into city streets and citizens into the lions’ dens. Antony’s death is not the death of just one man. His name held half the world.

Dercetus

He is dead, Caesar,Not by a public minister of justice,Nor by a hired knife, but that self handWhich writ his honour in the acts it didHath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,Splitted the heart. This is his sword.I robbed his wound of it. Behold it stainedWith his most noble blood.

He is dead, Caesar, not by an official executioner or a hired assassin. The very hand whose deeds earned him honor, with courage supplied by his heart, pierced that heart. This is his sword. I pulled it from his wound. Look at it, stained with his most noble blood.

Caesar

Look you sad, friends?The gods rebuke me, but it is tidingsTo wash the eyes of kings.

Do you look sad, friends? May the gods punish me if this is not news to bring tears to the eyes of kings.

Agrippa

And strange it isThat nature must compel us to lamentOur most persisted deeds.

It is strange that our human feelings force us to mourn the very things we worked hardest to achieve.

Maecenas

His taints and honoursWaged equal with him.

His faults and his virtues were evenly matched.

Agrippa

A rarer spirit neverDid steer humanity, but you gods will give usSome faults to make us men. Caesar is touched.

No finer spirit ever guided a human being. But you gods give us faults to make us human. Caesar is moved.

Maecenas

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

With such a great mirror set before him, he cannot help seeing himself.

Caesar

O Antony,I have followed thee to this, but we do lanceDiseases in our bodies. I must perforceHave shown to thee such a declining dayOr look on thine. We could not stall togetherIn the whole world. But yet let me lamentWith tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,That thou, my brother, my competitorIn top of all design, my mate in empire,Friend and companion in the front of war,The arm of mine own body, and the heartWhere mine his thoughts did kindle, that our stars,Unreconciliable, should divideOur equalness to this. Hear me, good friends—

Oh, Antony, I have pursued you to this end, but we cut diseases out of our own bodies. I had no choice but to bring you to such a downfall or suffer the same at your hands. The whole world had no room for us both. Yet let me weep tears as precious as the blood of our hearts because you, my brother, my rival in the greatest ambitions, my partner in ruling the empire, my friend and companion on the front lines of war, the arm of my own body, the heart that inspired my own thoughts—because our conflicting destinies should break our equal partnership and bring us to this. Listen to me, good friends—

Egyptian

A poor Egyptian yet. The queen, my mistress,Confined in all she has, her monument,Of thy intents desires instruction,That she preparedly may frame herselfTo the way she’s forced to.

For now, I am a poor Egyptian. The queen, my mistress, is shut inside her tomb, the only thing she has left. She wishes to know your intentions so that she can prepare herself for whatever course she is forced to take.

Caesar

Bid her have good heart.She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,How honourable and how kindly weDetermine for her. For Caesar cannot leanTo be ungentle.

Tell her to take heart. Soon one of our people will tell her how honorably and kindly we intend to treat her. Caesar cannot bring himself to be cruel.

Egyptian

So the gods preserve thee!

May the gods protect you for that!

Caesar

Come hither, Proculeius. Go and sayWe purpose her no shame. Give her what comfortsThe quality of her passion shall require,Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal strokeShe do defeat us, for her life in RomeWould be eternal in our triumph. Go,And with your speediest bring us what she saysAnd how you find of her.

Come here, Proculeius. Go and tell her we intend no disgrace for her. Give her whatever comfort her distress requires, so that her proud spirit does not drive her to defeat us by killing herself. Having her alive in Rome would give our victory parade lasting glory. Go, and return as quickly as you can to tell us what she says and what condition you find her in.

Proculeius

Caesar, I shall.

Caesar, I will.

Caesar

Gallus, go you along.

Gallus, go with him.

All

Dolabella!

Dolabella!

Caesar

Let him alone, for I remember nowHow he’s employed. He shall in time be ready.Go with me to my tent, where you shall seeHow hardly I was drawn into this war,How calm and gentle I proceeded stillIn all my writings. Go with me and seeWhat I can show in this.

Leave him alone. Now I remember what I sent him to do. He will be available in time. Come with me to my tent, where you will see how reluctantly I was drawn into this war, and how calmly and gently I always expressed myself in everything I wrote. Come with me and see the evidence I can show you.