Cleo.
My desolation does begin to make
A better life: 'Tis paltry to be Cæsar;
Not being fortune, he's but ^{7 note}fortune's knave,
A minister of her will; And it is great^{8 note}

To do that thing that ends all other deeds;
Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change;
Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung,
The beggar's nurse and Cæsar's.— Enter, below, Proculeius, Gallus, &c.

Pro.
Cæsar sends greeting to the queen of Ægypt;
And bids thee study on what fair demands

Thou mean'st to have him grant thee.

Cleo.
What's thy name?

Pro.
My name is Proculeius.

Cleo.
Antony
Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but
I do not greatly care to be deceiv'd,
That have no use for trusting. If your master
Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him,
That majesty, to keep decorum, must
No less beg than a kingdom: if he please
To give me conquer'd Ægypt for my son,
He gives me so much of mine own, as I
Will kneel to him with thanks.

Pro.
Be of good cheer;
You are fallen into a princely hand, fear nothing:
Make your full reference freely to my lord,
Who is so full of grace, that it flows over
On all that need: Let me report to him
Your sweet dependancy; and you shall find
A conqueror, ^{9 note}that will pray in aid for kindness,
Where he for grace is kneel'd to.

Cleo.
Pray you, tell him
I am his fortune's vassal, and I ^{1 note}
send him
The greatness he has got. I hourly learn
A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly
Look him i' the face.

Pro.
This I'll report, dear lady.
Have comfort; for, I know, your plight is pity'd
Of him that caus'd it.

[Aside.]
^{2 note}

Iras.
Royal queen!

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

Cleo.
Quick, quick, good hands. [Drawing a dagger. Proculeius rushes in, and disarms the queen.

Pro.
Hold, worthy lady, hold:
Do not yourself such wrong, ^{3 note}

Reliev'd, but not betray'd.

Cleo.
What, of death too, that rids our dogs of ^{4 note}

Pro.
Cleopatra,
Do not abuse our master's bounty 9Q0971, 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
^{5 note}Worth many babes and beggars!

Pro.
O, temperance, lady!

Cleo.
Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir;
^{6 note}

I'll not sleep neither: This mortal house I'll ruin,
Do Cæsar what he can. Know, sir, that I
Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court;
Nor once be chastis'd with the sober eye
Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up,
And shew me to the shouting varletry
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Ægypt
Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies
Blow me into abhorring! rather make
My country's high pyramides my gibbet^{7 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: as for 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. [Exit Proculeius.

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
^{8 note}

The little O, the earth.

Dol.
Most sovereign creature,—

Cleo.
His legs bestrid the ocean; his rear'd arm
Crested the world: his voice was property'd
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends^{9 note}
;
But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder. 9Q0972 ^{1 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 lye, up to the hearing of the gods,
But, if there be, or ever were one such,
It's past the size of dreaming: Nature wants stuff
To vie strange forms with fancy; ^{3 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 yours, a grief that shoots^{4 note}
My very heart at root.

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

Dol.
I am loth 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 it.

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

Cæs.
Which is the queen of Ægypt?

Dol.
It is the emperor, madam. [Cleo. kneels.

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

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,
^{5 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.

Cleo.
This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels,
I am possess'd of: ^{6 note}

Not petty things admitted.—Where's Seleucus?

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^{7 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^{8 note}!

Cæs.
Good queen, let us intreat you.

Cleo.
O Cæsar, what a wounding shame is this^{9 note};

That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me,
Doing the honour of thy lordliness
To one so meek, that mine own servant should
^{1 note}Parcel the sum of my disgraces by
Addition of his envy! Say, good Cæsar,
That I some lady trifles had reserv'd,
Immoment toys, things of such dignity
As we greet modern friends withal; and say,
Some nobler token I have kept apart
For Livia, and Octavia, to induce
Their mediation; must I be unfolded
With one that I have bred? The gods! It smites me
Beneath the fall I have. Pr'ythee, go hence; [To Seleucus.
Or I shall shew the cinders of my spirits
^{2 note}

Thou would'st have mercy on me.

Cæs.
Forbear, Seleucus. [Exit Seleucus.

Cleo.
^{9 note}

For things that others do; and, when we fall,
We answer others' merits in our names,
Are therefore to be pitied.

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;
^{1 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. [Exit.

Cleo.
Farewel, and thanks. Now, Iras, what think'st thou?
Thou, an Ægyptian puppet, shalt be shewn
In Rome, as well as I: mechanic 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 ^{2 note}

Some squeaking Cleopatra ^{4 note}

Iras.
O, the good gods!

Cleo.
Nay, that's 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
^{5 note}

Enter one of the Guard.

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

Cleo.
Let him come in. What a poor instrument [Exit Guard.
May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty.
My resolution's plac'd, and I have nothing
Of woman in me: Now from head to foot
I am marble-constant: ^{6 note}

Guard.
This is the man.

Cleo.
Avoid, and leave him. [Exit Guard.
Hast thou ^{7 note}

That kills and pains not?

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 dy'd 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 lye; as a woman should not do, but in the way of honesty: how she dy'd of the biting of it, what pain she felt,—Truly, she makes a very good report o' the worm: ^{8 note}

Cleo.

Get thee hence; farewel.

Clown.

I wish you all joy of the worm.

Cleo.

Farewel.

Clown.

You must think this, look you, that the worm ^{9 note}