Act 5 - Scene 1
Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp.
Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECAENAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and others,
his council of war
Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;
Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks
The pauses that he makes.
Caesar, I shall.
Enter DERCETAS, with the sword of MARK ANTONY
Wherefore is that? and what art thou that darest
Appear thus to us?
I am call'd Dercetas;
Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy
Best to be served: whilst he stood up
He was my master; and I wore my life
To spend upon his haters. If thou please
To take me to
thee, as I was to him
I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not,
I yield thee up my life.
What is't thou say'st?
I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.
The breaking of so great a thing should make
A greater crack: the round world
Should have shook lions
into civil streets,
And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony
Is not a single doom; in the name lay
moiety of the world.
He is dead, Caesar:
Not by a public minister of justice,
Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand,
his honour in the acts it did,
Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,
Splitted the heart. This is
I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd
With his most noble blood.
Look you sad, friends?
The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings
To wash the eyes of kings.
And strange it is,
That nature must compel us to lament
Our most persisted deeds.
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