His death's upon him, but not dead.
Look out o' the other side your monument;
His guard have brought him thither.

What, ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho!
Come, your lord calls!

Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear
Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw--
Which never shall be found--you did suspect
She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage
Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead;
But, fearing since ...

Now, my lord.

Most absolute lord,
My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.

Lives he?
Wilt thou not answer, man?

Where's Antony?