Cleo.
My desolation does begin to make
A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Cæsar;
Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave,
A minister of her will: and it is great
To do that thing that ends all other deeds;
Which shackles accidents ^note and bolts up change ^note;
Which sleeps, and never palates ^note more the dug ^{note note},
The ^note beggar's nurse ^note and Cæsar's. Enter, to the gates of the monument, Proculeius, Gallus, and Soldiers. ^note

Pro.
Cæsar sends greeting to the Queen of Egypt,

And bids thee study on what fair demands
Thou mean'st to have him grant thee.

Cleo. ^note
What's thy name?

Pro.
My ^note name is Proculeius.

Cleo. ^note
Antony
Did tell me of you, bade me trust you, but
I do not greatly care to be deceived,
That have no use for trusting. If your master
Would have a queen ^note 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 Egypt for my son,
He gives me so much of mine own as ^note I
Will kneel ^note to him with thanks ^note.

Pro.
Be of good cheer;
You're ^note fall'n 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 dependency ^note, and you shall find
A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness,
Where he for grace is kneel'd to. ^note

Cleo. ^note
Pray you, tell him
I am his fortune's vassal and I send him ^note
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 pitied
Of him that caused it. ^note

Gal.
You see how easily she may be surprised ^note. [Here Proculeius and two of the Guard ascend the monument by a ladder placed against a window, and, having descended, come behind Cleopatra. Some of the Guard unbar and open the gates. ^{note note}
Guard her till Cæsar come ^{note note}. [Exit. ^note

Iras.
Royal ^note queen!

Char.
O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen!

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

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

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

Pro.
Cleopatra, ^note
Do not abuse my master's bounty by ^note
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, ^note and take a queen ^note
Worth many babes and beggars!

Pro.
O, temperance, lady!

Cleo.
Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir;
If idle talk ^note will once be necessary ^note, ^{note note}
I'll not sleep ^note 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 chastised with the sober eye
Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up
And show me to the shouting varletry ^note
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt ^note
Be gentle grave unto ^note me! rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me stark naked ^note, and let the water-flies
Blow me into ^note abhorring! rather make
My country's high pyramides ^note my gibbet,
And hang me up in chains!

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

Dol.
Proculeius,
What thou hast done thy master Cæsar knows,
And he hath sent ^note for thee: for the queen ^note,

I'll take her to my guard.

Pro.
So, Dolabella,
It shall content me best: be gentle to her. [To Cleo. ^note]
To Cæsar I will speak what you shall please,
If you'll employ me to him.

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

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

Cleo.
I cannot tell.

Dol.
Assuredly you know me ^note.

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 ^note there was an emperor Antony:
O, such another sleep, that I might see
But such another man!

Dol.
If it might please ye,— ^note

Cleo.
His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck
A sun and moon, which kept their course and lighted
The little O, the ^note earth.

Dol.
Most sovereign creature,— ^note

Cleo.
His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm
Crested ^note the world: his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres, and that ^note to friends ^{note 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 ^note

That grew the more by reaping: his delights
Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back ^note above
The element they lived in: in his livery
Walk'd crowns and crownets ^note; realms and islands were ^note
As plates dropp'd from his pocket.

Dol.
Cleopatra,— ^note

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

Dol.
Gentle madam, no.

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

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 pursued success, but I do feel,
By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites ^note
My very heart at root.

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

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

Cleo.
Nay, pray you, sir,— ^note

Dol.
Though he be honourable,— ^note

Cleo.
He'll lead me then ^note in triumph? ^note

^note

Dol.
Madam, he will; ^note I know't. [Flourish and shout within:
‘Make way there: Cæsar!’ Enter Cæsar, Gallus, Proculeius, Mæcenas, Seleucus, and others of his Train. ^note

Cæs.
Which is the Queen of Egypt?

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

Cæs. ^note
Arise ^note, 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 ^note obey. ^note

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 ^note mine own cause so well
To make it clear; but do confess I have
Been laden with like frailties which before
Have often shamed 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 ^note course, you shall bereave yourself ^note
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. ^note

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

Cleo.
This is the brief of ^note money, plate and jewels,
I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued ^note,
Not petty things admitted ^note. Where's Seleucus?

Sel.
Here, madam.

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

Sel.
Madam, ^note
I had rather seal ^note my lips than to my peril
Speak that which is not. ^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, ^note
How pomp is follow'd ^note! 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 hired! What, goest thou back? ^note thou shalt
Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes, ^note
Though they had wings: slave, soulless villain ^note, dog!
O rarely base!

Cæs.
Good queen, let us entreat you. ^note

Cleo.
O ^note Cæsar, what a wounding shame is this,
That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me,
Doing the honour of thy lordliness
To one so meek ^note, that mine own servant should
Parcel the sum of my disgraces by
Addition of his envy! Say, good Cæsar,
That I some lady trifles ^note have reserved,
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 ^note one that I have bred? ^note The gods! ^note it smites me
Beneath the fall I have. [To Seleucus ^note] Prithee, go hence;
Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits ^note
Through the ashes of my chance ^note: wert thou a man,
Thou wouldst have mercy on me.

Cæs.
Forbear, Seleucus. [Exit Seleucus. ^note

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

Cæs.
Cleopatra,

Not what you have reserved, nor what acknowledged,
Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be 't ^note yours,
Bestow it at your pleasure, and believe
Cæsar's no merchant, to make prize ^note with you
Of things that merchants sold ^note. Therefore be cheer'd;
Make not your thoughts your prisons ^note: no, dear queen;
For we intend so to dispose you as
Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed, and sleep:
Our care and pity is so much upon you
That we remain your friend; and so, adieu.

Cleo.
My master, and my lord!

Cæs.
Not so. Adieu. [Flourish. ^note Exeunt Cæsar ^note and his train. ^note

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

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

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

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

Dol.
Where is ^note the queen?

Char. ^note
Behold, sir. [Exit. ^note

Cleo.
Dolabella! ^note

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. ^note

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

Cleo.
Farewell, and thanks. [Exit Dolabella. ^note
Now, Iras, what think'st thou? ^note
Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt ^note be shown
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 forced to drink their vapour.

Iras.
The gods forbid!

Cleo.
Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: saucy lictors
Will catch at us like strumpets, and scald ^note rhymers
Ballad ^note us out o' tune ^note: the quick comedians
Extemporally will stage us and present
Our Alexandrian ^note revels; Antony
Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see
Some squeaking Cleopatra boy ^note my greatness
I' the posture of a whore.

Iras.
O the good gods!

Cleo.
Nay, that's ^note certain.

Iras.
I'll never see't; for I am ^note sure my ^note nails
Are stronger than mine eyes.

Cleo.
Why, that's the way
To fool their preparation, and to conquer ^note
Their most absurd ^note intents. Re-enter ^note Charmian.
Now, Charmian! ^note
Show me, my women, like a queen: go fetch
My best attires: I am again for Cydnus ^note,
To meet Mark Antony: sirrah Iras ^note, go.
Now, noble Charmian, we'll dispatch indeed, ^note
And when thou hast ^note done this chare I'll give thee leave
To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all. [Exit Iras. A noise within. ^note
Wherefore's this noise? Enter ^note a Guardsman.

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

Cleo.
Let him come in. [Exit Guardsman. ^note
What ^note poor an instrument ^note
May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty.

My resolution's placed, and I have nothing
Of woman in me: now from head to foot
I am ^note marble-constant ^note; now the fleeting moon
No planet is of mine. Re-enter ^note Guardsman, with Clown bringing in a basket.

Guard.
This is the man.

Cleo.
Avoid, and leave him. [Exit Guardsman. ^note
Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there,
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.

Rememberest ^note 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 ^note that they do: but this is most fallible ^note, the worm's an odd ^note worm.

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.

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 ^note 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. ^note

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 ^note.

Cleo.
Well, get thee ^note gone; farewell.

Clown.
Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy o' ^note the worm. [Exit. Re-enter Iras with a robe, crown, &c. ^{note note}

Cleo.
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have
Immortal longings in me: now no more
The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip:
Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear
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 ^note
To excuse their after wrath ^note. 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 ^note. So; ^note have you done?
Come then and take the last warmth of my lips.

^note
Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras ^note, long farewell. [Kisses ^note them. Iras falls and dies. ^note
Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall?
If thou and nature can so gently part,
The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch,
Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still?
If thus thou vanishest ^note, thou tell'st the world ^note
It is not worth leave-taking ^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 ^note the curled ^note Antony,
He'll make demand of her, and spend that kiss
Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou ^note mortal wretch, [To an asp ^note, which she applies to her breast.
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate ^{note note}
Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool,
Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak,
That I might hear thee call great Cæsar ass
Unpolicied! ^note

Char.
O eastern star!

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

Char.
O, break! O, break!

Cleo.
As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,— ^note
O Antony!—Nay, I will take thee too: [Applying ^note another asp to her arm.
What ^note should I stay— [Dies. ^note

Char.
In ^note this vile ^note world? So, fare thee well.
Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies
A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows, close;
And golden Phœbus never be beheld
Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry ^note;
I'll mend it, and then play. ^note Enter ^note the Guard, rushing in.

First Guard.
Where is ^note the queen?

Char.
Speak softly, wake her not.

First Guard.
Cæsar hath sent— ^note

Char.
Too slow a messenger. [Applies ^note an asp.
O, come apace, dispatch: I partly feel thee.

First Guard.
Approach, ho! All's not well: Cæsar's beguiled. ^note

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

First Guard
What work is here! Charmian, is ^note this well done? ^note

Char.
It is well done, and fitting for a princess
Descended of so many royal kings.
Ah, soldier! ^note [Dies. ^note Re-enter ^note Dolabella.

Dol.
How goes it here?

Sec. 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. ^note
‘A way there, a way ^note for Cæsar!’! Re-enter ^note Cæsar and his train.

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

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

Dol.
Who was last with them?

First Guard.
A simple countryman, that brought her ^note figs:
This was his basket.

Cæs.
Poison'd then.

First Guard.
O Cæsar,
This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake:
I found her trimming up the diadem

On her dead mistress; ^note tremblingly she stood,
And on the sudden dropp'd.

Cæs.
O noble weakness!
If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear
By ^note external ^note 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: ^note
The like is on her arm.

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

Cæs.
Most probable
That so she died; for her physician tells me
She hath pursued conclusions infinite
Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed,
And bear her women from the monument:
She shall be buried by her Antony:
No grave upon the earth shall clip in it
A pair so famous. High events as these
Strike those that make them; and their story is
No less in pity than his glory which
Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall
In solemn show attend this funeral,
And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see
High order in this great solemnity. [Exeunt. ^note

NOTES. ^note