There yet remain
Three legions in the town. The last assault
Lopt off the rest. If death be your design,
As I must wish it now, these are sufficient
To make a heap about us of dead foes,
An honest pile for burial.
Chuse your death.
For I have seen him in such various shapes,
I care not which I take.
I'm only troubled.
The life I bear is worn to such a rag,
'Tis scarce worth giving. I could wish indeed,
We threw it from us with a better grace,
That, like two lions taken in toils,
We might at least thrust out our paws, and wound
The hunters that inclose us....
ANTONY.
Do not deny me twice.
VENTIDIUS.
By heav'n, I will not.
Let it not be t' out-live you.
ANTONY.
Kill me first,
And then die thou. For 'tis but just thou serve
Thy friend before thyself.
VENTIDIUS.
Give me your hand.
We soon shall meet again. Now farewell, emperor.
.... I will not make a bus'ness of a trifle,
And yet I cannot look on you and kill you.
Pray, turn your face.
ANTONY.