Iras.
Royal queen!

Char.
O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen!—

Cleo.
Quick, quick, good hands. [Drawing a dagger.

Pro.
Hold, worthy lady, hold: [Seizes and disarms her.
Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this
Reliev'd, but not betray'd.

Cleo.
What, of death too
That rids our dogs of languish^{1 note}
?

Pro.
Cleopatra,
Do not abuse my master's bounty, by
The undoing of yourself: let the world see
His nobleness well acted, which your death
Will never let come forth.

Cleo.
Where art thou, death?
Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen
Worth many babes and beggars^{2 note}!

Pro.
O, temperance, lady!

Cleo.
Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir;
If idle talk will once be necessary,
I'll not sleep neither^{3 note}

Do Cæsar what he can. Know, sir, that I
Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court;

Nor once be chástis'd with the sober eye
Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up,
And show me to the shouting varletry
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
Be gentle grave to me! rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me stark naked* ^note, and let the water-flies
Blow me into abhorring! rather make
My country's high pyramides my gibbet^{4 note}

Pro.
You do extend
These thoughts of horror further than you shall
Find cause in Cæsar. Enter Dolabella.

Dol.
Proculeius,
What thou hast done thy master Cæsar knows,
And he hath sent for thee: for^{5 note} the queen,
I'll take her to my guard.

Pro.
So, Dolabella,
It shall content me best: be gentle to her.—

To Cæsar I will speak what you shall please, [To Cleopatra.
If you'll employ me to him.

Cleo.
Say, I would die. [Exeunt Proculeius, and Soldiers.

Dol.
Most noble empress, you have heard of me?

Cleo.
I cannot tell.

Dol.
Assuredly, you know me.

Cleo.
No matter, sir, what I have heard, or known.
You laugh, when boys, or women, tell their dreams;
Is't not your trick?

Dol.
I understand not, madam.

Cleo.
I dream'd, there was an emperor Antony;—
O, such another sleep, that I might see
But such another man!

Dol.
If it might please you,—

Cleo.
His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck
A sun^{6 note}


, and moon; which kept their course, and lighted
The little O, the earth^{7 note}

Dol.
Most sovereign creature,—

Cleo.
His legs bestrid the ocean^{8 note}

: his rear'd arm
Crested the world^{9 note}
: his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends^{1 note}
;
But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty,
There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas,
That grew the more by reaping^{2 note}

Were dolphin-like^{3 note}

Dol.
Cleopatra,—

Cleo.
Think you, there was, or might be, such a man
As this I dream'd of?

Dol.
Gentle madam, no.

Cleo.
You lie, up to the hearing of the gods.
But, if there be, or ever were one such^{5 note},
It's past the size of dreaming: Nature wants stuff
To vie strange forms^{6 note} with fancy; yet, to imagine
An Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy,
Condemning shadows quite^{7 note}

.

Dol.
Hear me, good madam:
Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it
As answering to the weight: 'Would I might never
O'ertake pursu'd success, but I do feel,
By the rebound of your's, a grief that shoots^{8 note}

Cleo.
I thank you, sir.
Know you, what Cæsar means to do with me?

Dol.
I am loath to tell you what I would you knew.

Cleo.
Nay, pray you, sir,—

Dol.
Though he be honourable,—

Cleo.
He'll lead me then in triumph?

Dol.
Madam, he will; I know't.

Within.
Make way there,—Cæsar. Enter Cæsar, Gallus, Proculeius, Mecænas, Seleucus, and Attendants.

Cæs.
Which is the queen of Egypt?

Dol.
'Tis the emperor, madam. [Cleopatra kneels.

Cæs.
Arise, you shall not kneel:—
I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt.

Cleo.
Sir, the gods
Will have it thus; my master and my lord
I must obey.

Cæs.
Take to you no hard thoughts:
The record of what injuries you did us,
Though written in our flesh, we shall remember
As things but done by chance.

Cleo.
Sole sir o' the world,
I cannot project mine own cause so well^{9 note}

To make it clear; but do confess, I have
Been laden with like frailties, which before
Have often sham'd our sex.

Cæs.
Cleopatra, know,
We will extenuate rather than enforce:
If you apply yourself to our intents,
(Which towards you are most gentle,) you shall find
A benefit in this change; but if you seek
To lay on me a cruelty, by taking
Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself
Of my good purposes, and put your children
To that destruction which I'll guard them from,
If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave.

Cleo.
And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we
Your 'scutcheons, and your signs of conquest, shall
Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord.

Cæs.
You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra^{1 note}

.

Cleo.
This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels,
I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued;
Not petty things admitted^{2 note}

Sel.
Here, madam.

Cleo.
This is my treasurer; let him speak, my lord,
Upon his peril, that I have reserv'd
To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus.

Sel.
Madam,
I had rather seel my lips^{3 note}

Cleo.
What have I kept back?

Sel.
Enough to purchase what you have made known.

Cæs.
Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve
Your wisdom in the deed.

Cleo.
See, Cæsar! O, behold,
How pomp is follow'd! mine will now be yours;

And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine.
The ingratitude of this Seleucus does
Even make me wild:—O slave, of no more trust
Than love that's hir'd!—What, goest thou back? thou shalt
Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes,
Though they had wings: Slave, soul-less villain, dog!
O rarely base^{4 note}!

Cæs.
Good queen, let us entreat you.

Cleo.
O Cæsar, what a wounding shame is this^{5 note};
That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me,
Doing the honour of thy lordliness
To one so meek^{6 note}

Addition of his envy^{8 note}
! Say, good Cæsar,
That I some lady trifles have reserv'd,
Immoment toys, things of such dignity
As we greet modern friends^{9 note}

Cæs.
Forbear, Seleucus. [Exit Seleucus.

Cleo.
Be it known, that we, the greatest, are misthought
For things that others do; and, when we fall,
We answer others' merits in our name,
Are therefore to be pitied^{3 note}

Cæs.
Cleopatra,
Not what you have reserv'd, nor what acknowledg'd,
Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be it yours,
Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe,
Cæsar's no merchant, to make prize with you
Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd;
Make not your thoughts your prisons^{4 note}

Cleo.
My master, and my lord!

Cæs.
Not so: Adieu. [Exeunt Cæsar, and his Train.

Cleo.
He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not
Be noble to myself: but hark thee, Charmian. [Whispers Charmian.

Iras.
Finish, good lady; the bright day is done,
And we are for the dark.

Cleo.
Hie thee again:
I have spoke already, and it is provided;
Go, put it to the haste.

Char.
Madam, I will. Re-enter Dolabella.

Dol.
Where is the queen?

Char.
Behold, sir. [Exit Charmian.

Cleo.
Dolabella?

Dol.
Madam, as thereto sworn by your command,
Which my love makes religion to obey,
I tell you this: Cæsar through Syria
Intends his journey; and, within three days,
You with your children will he send before:
Make your best use of this: I have perform'd
Your pleasure, and my promise.

Cleo.
Dolabella,
I shall remain your debtor.

Dol.
I your servant.
Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Cæsar.

Cleo.
Farewell, and thanks. [Exit Dol.] Now, Iras, what think'st thou?
Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown
In Rome, as well as I: mechanick slaves
With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall
Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths,
Rank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded,
And forc'd to drink their vapour.

Iras.
The gods forbid!

Cleo.
Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: Saucy lictors
Will catch at us, like strumpets; and scald rhymers
Ballad us out o' tune^{5 note}

Extemporally will stage us, and present
Our Alexandrian revels; Antony
Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see
Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness^{7 note}

Iras.
O the good gods!

Cleo.
Nay, that is certain.

Iras.
I'll never see it; for, I am sure, my nails
Are stronger than mine eyes.

Cleo.
Why, that's the way
To fool their preparation, and to conquer
Their most absurd intents^{8 note}

Now, noble Charmian, we'll despatch indeed:
And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee leave
To play till dooms-day.—Bring our crown and all.
Wherefore's this noise? [Exit Iras. A noise within. Enter one of the Guard.

Guard.
Here is a rural fellow,
That will not be denied your highness' presence;
He brings you figs.

Cleo.
Let him come in. What poor^{1 note}

Re-enter Guard, with a Clown bringing in a Basket.

Guard.
This is the man.

Cleo.
Avoid, and leave him. [Exit Guard.
Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus^{3 note}

Clown.

Truly I have him: but I would not be the party that should desire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal; those, that do die of it, do seldom or never recover.

Cleo.

Remember'st thou any that have died on't?

Clown.

Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, but something given to lie; as a woman should not do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the biting of it, what pain she felt, —Truly, she makes a very good report o' the worm: But he that will believe all that they say, shall never be saved by half that they do^{4 note}

Cleo.

Get thee hence; farewell.

Clown.

I wish you all joy of the worm.

Cleo.

Farewell.

Clown.

You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind^{5 note}

Cleo.

Ay, ay; farewell.

Clown.

Look you, the worm is not to be trusted, but in the keeping of wise people; for, indeed, there is no goodness in the worm.

Cleo.

Take thou no care; it shall be heeded.

Clown.

Very good: give it nothing, I pray you, for it is not worth the feeding.

Cleo.

Will it eat me?

Clown.

You must not think I am so simple, but I know the devil himself will not eat a woman: I know, that a woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her not. But, truly, these same whoreson devils do the gods great harm in their women; for in every ten that they make, the devils mar five.

Cleo.

Well, get thee gone; farewell.

Clown.

Yes, forsooth; I wish you joy of the worm.

Cleo.
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have
Immortal longings in me^{6 note}
: Now no more
The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip^{7 note}


:—
Yare, yare^{8 note}

Antony call; I see him rouse himself
To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
The luck of Cæsar, which the gods give men
To excuse their after wrath: Husband, I come:
Now to that name my courage prove my title!
I am fire, and air; my other elements
I give to baser life^{9 note}

Char.
Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say,
The gods themselves do weep!

Cleo.
This proves me base:
If she first meet the curled Antony,
He'll make demand of her^{4 note}; and spend that kiss,
Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou mortal wretch^{5 note}
, [To the Asp, which she applies to her Breast.
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool,
Be angry, and despatch. O, could'st thou speak!
That I might hear thee call great Cæsar, ass
Unpolicied^{6 note}
!

Char.
O eastern star!

Cleo.
Peace, peace!
Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
That sucks the nurse asleep^{7 note}

Char.
O, break! O, break!

Cleo.
As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,—
O Antony!—Nay, I will take thee too:— [Applying another Asp to her Arm.
What should I stay— [Falls on a Bed, and dies.

Char.
In this wild world^{8 note}?—So, fare thee well.—
Now boast thee, death! in thy possession lies
A lass unparallel'd.—Downy windows, close^{9 note}

Enter the Guard, rushing in.

1 Guard.
Where is the queen?

Char.
Speak softly, wake her not.

1 Guard.
Cæsar hath sent—

Char.
Too slow a messenger. [Applies the Asp.
O, come; apace, despatch: I partly feel thee.

1 Guard.
Approach, ho! All's not well: Cæsar's beguil'd.

2 Guard.
There's Dolabella sent from Cæsar;—call him.

1 Guard.
What work is here?—Charmian, is this well done?

Char.
It is well done, and fitting for a princess
Descended of so many royal kings^{3 note}.
Ah, soldier! [Dies. Enter Dolabella.

Dol.
How goes it here?

2 Guard.
All dead.

Dol.
Cæsar, thy thoughts
Touch their effects in this: Thyself art coming
To see perform'd the dreaded act, which thou
So sought'st to hinder.

Within.
A way there, a way for Cæsar! Enter Cæsar, and Attendants.

Dol.
O, sir, you are too sure an augurer;
That you did fear, is done.

Cæs.
Bravest at the last:
She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal,
Took her own way.—The manner of their deaths?
I do not see them bleed.

Dol.
Who was last with them?

1 Guard.
A simple countryman, that brought her figs;
This was his basket.

Cæs.
Poison'd then.

1 Guard.
O Cæsar,
This Charmian lived but now; she stood, and spake:
I found her trimming up the diadem
On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood,
And on the sudden dropp'd.

Cæs.
O noble weakness!—
If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear
By external swelling: but she looks like sleep,
As she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil of grace.

Dol.
Here, on her breast,
There is a vent of blood, and something blown^{4 note}

1 Guard.
This is an aspick's trail: and these fig-leaves
Have slime upon them, such as the aspick leaves
Upon the caves of Nile.

Cæs.
Most probable,
That so she died; for her physician tells me,
She hath pursu'd conclusions infinite^{5 note}