His action, speech, his favour and his grace,
My rancour rage and rigour doth deface.

3D SOLDIER. So sweet his words, that now of late, meseems,
His art doth draw my soul from out my lips.

ANTHONY. What envious eyes, reflecting nought but rage,
What barbarous heart, refresh'd with nought but blood,
That rends not to behold the senseless trees
In doly[146] season drooping without leaves?
The shepherd sighs upon the barren hills,
To see his bleating lambs with faintful looks
Behold the valleys robb'd of springing flowers,
That whilom wont to yield them yearly food.
Even meanest things, exchang'd from former state,
The virtuous mind with some remorse doth mate.
Can then your eyes with thundering threats of rage
Cast furious gleams of anger upon age?
Can then your hearts with furies mount so high,
As they should harm the Roman Anthony?
I, far more kind than senseless tree, have lent
A kindly sap to our declining state,
And like a careful shepherd have foreseen
The heavy dangers of this city Rome;
And made the citizens the happy flock,
Whom I have fed with counsels and advice:
But now those locks that, for their reverend white,
Surpass the down on Aesculapius' chin:
But now that tongue, whose terms and fluent style
For number pass'd the hosts of heavenly fires:
But now that head, within whose subtle brains
The queen of flowing eloquence did dwell--

_Enter a_ CAPTAIN.

These locks, this tongue, this head, this life, and all,
To please a tyrant, trait'rously must fall.

CAPTAIN. Why, how now, soldiers, is he living yet?
And will you be bewitched with his words?
Then take this fee, false orator, from me: [_Stabs him_.
Elysium best beseems thy faintful limbs.

ANTHONY. O blissful pains! now Anthony must die,
Which serv'd and lov'd Rome and her empery.
[_Moritur[147].

CAPTAIN. Go, curtal off that neck with present stroke,
And straight present it unto Marius.

1ST SOLDIER. Even in this head did all the muses dwell:
The bees, that sat upon the Grecian's lips,
Distill'd their honey on his temper'd tongue.

2D SOLDIER. The crystal dew of fair Castalian springs
With gentle floatings trickled on his brains:
The graces kissed his kind and courteous brows,
Apollo gave the beauties of his harp,

_Enter_ LECTORIUS _pensive_.

And melodies unto his pliant speech.

CAPTAIN. Leave these presumptuous praises, countrymen:
And see Lectorius, pensive where he comes