Here is the line-by-line modern paraphrase of Antony’s monologue:

Original: Unarm, Eros; the long day’s task is done,
Modern: Take off my armor, Eros; my life’s work is finished,

Original: And we must sleep.
Modern: And it’s time for me to rest — permanently.

Original: That thou depart’st hence safe,
Modern: The fact that you get to leave here safely

Original: Does pay thy labour richly; go.
Modern: Is more than enough reward for your service; now go.

Original: Off, pluck off:
Modern: Get it off, pull it off:

Original: The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep
Modern: Even the strongest armor in the world can’t protect me from

Original: The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides!
Modern: The pain that’s beating down on my heart. Oh, I feel like I’m splitting open!

Original: Heart, once be stronger than thy continent,
Modern: Heart, for once be stronger than the chest that holds you,

Original: Crack thy frail case! Apace, Eros, apace.
Modern: Just burst right through it! Hurry, Eros, hurry.

Original: No more a soldier: bruised pieces, go;
Modern: I’m done being a soldier — battered armor, be gone;

Original: You have been nobly borne. From me awhile.
Modern: You’ve been worn with honor. Leave my side now.

Original: I will o’ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
Modern: I will come to you, Cleopatra, and

Original: Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now
Modern: Beg your forgiveness with tears. It has to be this way, because now

Original: All length is torture: since the torch is out,
Modern: Every moment I keep living is agony: now that you — my light — are gone,

Original: Lie down, and stray no farther: now all labour
Modern: I should lie down and wander no more: now everything I do

Original: Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles
Modern: Only makes things worse; even my own strength ties me up

Original: Itself with strength: seal then, and all is done.
Modern: In knots against itself: so let it end, and be finished.

Original: Eros! I come, my queen: Eros! Stay for me:
Modern: Eros! I’m coming, my queen: Eros! Wait for me:

Original: Where souls do couch on flowers, we’ll hand in hand,
Modern: In the afterlife where souls rest on fields of flowers, we’ll walk hand in hand,

Original: And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze:
Modern: And with our proud and lively presence make all the other spirits stare:

Original: Dido and her Aeneas shall want troops,
Modern: Even the famous lovers Dido and Aeneas will lose their crowd of admirers,

Original: And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros!
Modern: And every soul in that place will flock to us instead. Come, Eros, Eros!

Original: Since Cleopatra died,
Modern: Ever since Cleopatra died,

Original: I have lived in such dishonour, that the gods
Modern: I have lived with such shame that the gods themselves

Original: Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword
Modern: Must despise how low I’ve fallen. I, who with my sword

Original: Quarter’d the world, and o’er green Neptune’s back
Modern: Carved up the world into kingdoms, and across the ocean’s surface

Original: With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack
Modern: Built entire fleets like floating cities, now find that I lack

Original: The courage of a woman; less noble mind
Modern: The bravery of a woman; I have a weaker spirit

Original: Than she which by her death our Caesar tells
Modern: Than she who, through her own death, was able to tell Caesar

Original: ‘I am conqueror of myself.’ Thou art sworn, Eros,
Modern: “I have conquered myself.” You made a vow, Eros,

Original: That, when the exigent should come, which now
Modern: That when the critical moment arrived — which has now

Original: Is come indeed, when I should see behind me
Modern: Truly arrived — when I could see closing in behind me

Original: The inevitable prosecution of
Modern: The unavoidable pursuit of

Original: Disgrace and horror, that, on my command,
Modern: Disgrace and suffering, that at my order,

Original: Thou then wouldst kill me: do’t; the time is come:
Modern: You would kill me: do it now; the time is here:

Original: Thou strikest not me, ‘tis Caesar thou defeat’st.
Modern: You won’t be striking me down — you’ll be defeating Caesar.

Original: Put colour in thy cheek.
Modern: Find your courage; don’t go pale on me.

Original: Eros,
Modern: Eros,

Original: Wouldst thou be window’d in great Rome and see
Modern: Would you want to stand in a window in mighty Rome and watch

Original: Thy master thus with pleach’d arms, bending down
Modern: Your master like this — arms bound and folded, head bowed down,

Original: His corrigible neck, his face subdued
Modern: His neck bent in submission, his face overwhelmed

Original: To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel’d seat
Modern: By a shame that cuts right through him, while the rolling chariot

Original: Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded
Modern: Of victorious Caesar passes in front of him, branding

Original: His baseness that ensued?
Modern: Into everyone’s memory the disgrace that followed his defeat?

Original: Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured.
Modern: Come then; the only thing that can heal me now is a sword’s wound.

Original: Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn
Modern: Draw that loyal sword of yours, the one you’ve carried

Original: Most useful for thy country.
Modern: In such honorable service to your country.

Original: When I did make thee free, sworest thou not then
Modern: When I gave you your freedom, didn’t you swear at that moment

Original: To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once;
Modern: That you would do this when I asked? Do it right now;

Original: Or thy precedent services are all
Modern: Otherwise every act of service you’ve given me before this

Original: But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come.
Modern: Means nothing — just random deeds without purpose. Draw your sword, and come forward.

Original: Lo thee!
Modern: There — look away!

Original: Then let it do at once
Modern: Then let it do right now

Original: The thing why thou hast drawn it.
Modern: The very thing you drew it for.

Original: ‘Tis said, man; and farewell.
Modern: It’s been said, my friend; and farewell to you too.

Original: Now, Eros.
Modern: Now, Eros. Do it now.

Original: Thrice-nobler than myself!
Modern: You are three times more noble than I am!

Original: Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what
Modern: You are showing me, O brave Eros, what

Original: I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros
Modern: I must do — what you showed me but couldn’t do for me. My queen and Eros

Original: Have by their brave instruction got upon me
Modern: Have both, through their courageous examples, shown me up —

Original: A nobleness in record: but I will be
Modern: Their names will be remembered as the nobler ones: but I will be

Original: A bridegroom in my death, and run into’t
Modern: Like a joyful groom rushing toward his wedding, and I’ll run toward death

Original: As to a lover’s bed. Come, then; and, Eros,
Modern: The way a man runs to his lover. Come then; and, Eros,

Original: Thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus
Modern: Your master dies as your student:

Antony & Cleopatra — Act IV, Scene xii

In this scene, Antony receives word that his fleet has surrendered to Caesar without a fight, and he is convinced that Cleopatra has betrayed him by arranging this capitulation. Enraged and grief-stricken, he storms and rages against her, calling down curses and threatening violence. He declares that the treachery has undone him entirely, stripping away his identity as a soldier and a leader, and he vows that Cleopatra will pay dearly for what he believes to be her treachery. When Cleopatra herself approaches, Antony’s fury is so terrifying that she flees from him in fear for her life.

Cleopatra retreats to her monument, and her attendant Charmian advises her to lock herself inside and send word to Antony that she is dead. Recognizing that Antony’s rage makes him genuinely dangerous, Cleopatra agrees to this plan and sends the messenger Mardian to deliver the false news of her death to Antony. The scene ends with the deception set in motion, leaving Antony to receive the false report that the woman he both loves and blames for his ruin has already died, which will have devastating consequences for his actions in the scenes that follow.

Antony and Cleopatra follows the tragic downfall of Mark Antony, one of Rome’s three ruling triumvirs, who becomes consumed by his passionate love affair with Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt. The play opens with Antony already established in Alexandria, neglecting his Roman duties while reveling in the exotic pleasures of Cleopatra’s court. When news arrives that his wife Fulvia has died and that Pompey threatens Roman territories, Antony reluctantly returns to Rome, where he reconciles with Octavius Caesar and marries Caesar’s sister Octavia to strengthen their political alliance, temporarily abandoning Cleopatra.

Despite his marriage to Octavia, Antony cannot resist returning to Egypt and Cleopatra, effectively declaring war on Rome and Caesar. The political and personal tensions culminate in the naval Battle of Actium, where Cleopatra’s fleet flees mid-battle, and Antony, following her, seals both their military defeat and political doom. Back in Egypt, as Caesar’s forces close in, the lovers face their inevitable destruction with a series of miscommunications and desperate acts.

The tragedy reaches its climax when Cleopatra, fearing Antony’s rage, sends word that she has died. Devastated, Antony falls on his sword but survives long enough to be carried to Cleopatra’s monument, where he dies in her arms. Rather than face the humiliation of being paraded through Rome as Caesar’s prisoner, Cleopatra takes her own life by allowing an asp (cobra) to bite her. The play ends with Caesar’s arrival to find both lovers dead, and his recognition of their tragic grandeur, ordering them to be buried together with full honors.