ine all the chamber fill'd.
He staggred at the blowe, his face grew pale,
And on a couche all feeble downe he fell,
Swounding with anguish: deadly cold him tooke,
As if his soule had then his lodging left.
But he reuiu'd, and marking all our eies
Bathed in teares, and how our breasts we beatt
For pittie, anguish, and for bitter griefe,
To see him plong'd in extreame wretchednes:
He prai'd vs all to haste his lingr'ing death:
But no man willing, each himselfe withdrew.
Then fell he new to crie and vexe himselfe,
Vntill a man from _Cleopatra_ came,
Who said from hir he had commaundement
To bring him to hir to the monument.
The poore soule at these words euen rapt with Ioy
Knowing she liu'd, prai'd vs him to conuey
Vnto his Ladie. Then vpon our armes
We bare him to the Tombe, but entred not.
For she, who feared captiue to be made,
And that she should to _Rome_ in triumph goe,
Kept close the gate: but from a window high
Cast downe a corde, wherin he was impackt.
Then by hir womens helpt the corps she rais'd,
And by strong armes into hir windowe drew.
So pittifull a sight was neuer sene.
Little and little _Antonie_ was pull'd,
Now breathing death: his beard was all vnkempt,
His face and brest all bathed in his bloud.
So hideous yet, and dieng as he was,
His eies half-clos'd vppon the Queene he cast:
Held vp his hands, and holpe himself to raise,
But still with weakenes back his bodie fell.
The miserable ladie with moist eies,
With haire which careles on hir forhead hong,
With brest which blowes had bloudilie benumb'd,
With stooping head, and bodie down-ward bent,
Enlast hir in the corde, and with all force
This life-dead man couragiously vprais'de.
The bloud with paine into hir face did flowe,
Hir sinewes stiff, her selfe did breathles growe.
The people which beneath in flocks beheld,
Assisted her with gesture, speech, desire:
Cri'de and incourag'd her, and in their soules
Did sweate, and labor, no white lesse then shee.
Who neuer tir'd in labor, held so long
Helpt by hir women, and hir constant heart,
That _Antonie_ was drawne into the tombe,
And ther (I thinke) of dead augments the summe.
The Cittie all to teares and sighes is turn'd,
To plaints and outcries horrible to heare:
Men, women, children, hoary-headed age
Do all pell mell in house and strete lament,
Scratching their faces, tearing of t