Farewell! Ever my leader, even in death! My queen and thou have got the start of me, And I'm the lag of honour.--Gone so soon? Is Death no more? he used him carelessly, With a familiar kindness: ere he knocked, Ran to the door, and took him in his arms, As who should say--You're welcome at all hours, A friend need give no warning. Books had spoiled him; For all the learned are cowards by profession. 'Tis not worth My further thought; for death, for aught I know, Is but to think no more. Here's to be satisfied. I've missed my heart. O unperforming hand! Thou never couldst have erred in a worse time. My fortune jades me to the last; and death, Like a great man, takes state, and makes me wait For my admittance.-- Some, perhaps, from Caesar: If he should find me living, and suspect That I played booty with my life! I'll mend My work, ere they can reach me.

Antony Monologue from John Dryden

Rehearse Antony's monologue