Agr.
A rarer spirit never
Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us
Some faults to make us men. Cæsar is touch'd.
Mec. When such a spacious mirror's set before
him,

He needs must see himself.
Cæs.

O Antony!

I have follow'd thee to this:-But we do lance
Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce
Have shown to thee such a declining day,
Or look on thine; we could not stall together
In the whole world: But yet let me lament,
With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,
That thou, my brother, my competitor
In top of all design, my mate in empire,
Friend and companion in the front of war,
The arm of mine own body, and the heart
Where mine his thoughts did kindle,--that our stars,
Unreconciliable, should divide

Our equalness to this.-Hear me, good friends,-
But I will tell you at some meeter season;
Enter a Messenger.

The business of this man looks out of him,
We'll hear him what he says.--Whence are you?
Mess. A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my
mistress,

Confin'd in all she has, her monument,

Of thy intents desires instruction;
That she preparedly may frame herself
To the way she's forced to.

Cæs.
Bid her have good heart;
She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,
How honourable and how kindly we
Determine for her: for Cæsar cannot live
To be ungentle.

Mess. So the gods preserve thee! [Exit. Cas. Come hither, Proculeius: Go, and say We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts The quality of her passion shall require; Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke She do defeat us: for her life in Rome Would be eternal in our triumph: Go, And, with your speediest, bring us what she says, And how you find of her.

SCENE II.-Alexandria. A Room in the Mcnument.

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS.
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, and bolts up change;
Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung,
The beggar's nurse and Cæsar's.

Enter, to the gates of the Monument, PROCULEIUS,
GALLUS, and Soldiers.

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. [Within.]

Pro. My name is Proculeius.

Cleo. [Within.]

What's thy name?

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 Egypt 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

A

On all that need: Let me report to him
Your sweet dependency: and you shall find
conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness,
Where he for grace is kneel'd to.
Cleo. [Within.]

Pray you, tell him
I am his fortune's vassal, and I 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 pitied
Of him that caus'd it.

Gal. You see how easily she may be surpris'd; [PROCULEIUS and two of the Guard ascend the

Monument by a ladder, and come behind CLEOPATRA. Some of the Guard open the gates Guard her till Cæsar come

[TO PROCULEIUS, and the Guard. Exit GALLUS. Iras. Royal queen!

Char. O Cleopatra! thou are taken, queen!— Cleo. Quick, quick, good hands.

Pro.

[Drawing a dagger. Hold, worthy lady, hold: [Seizes and disarms her.

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!

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: 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 show me to the shouting varletry

Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
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,
And hang me up in chains!

A sun and moon, which kept their course, and lighted 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 propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; 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: His delights Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back above The element they liv'd in: In his livery Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands

were

As plates dropp'd from his pocket.

Cleo. You lie, 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; yet, to imagine An Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy, 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 shoots 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.

I know it.

Madam, he will;

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: 'tis exactly valued;
Not petty things admitted.-Where's Seleucus?
Sel. Here, madam.

Cleo. This is my treasurer; let him speak, my lord,

Cas. 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, soulless villain,
dog!
O rarely base!
Cas.

Good queen, let us entreat you. Cleo. O Cæsar, what a wounding shame is this; That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me,

Doing the honour of thy lordliness

To one so meek, that mine own servant should
Parcel the sum of my disgraces by
Addition of his envy! Say, good CČæsar,
That I some lady trifles have 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

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: 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. [Exeunt CESAR, 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.

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: 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.

[Exit Guard.

Cleo. Avoid, and leave him.
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. Remember'st thou any that have died on't? I Clown. Very many, men and women too. 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: But this is most fallible, the worm's an odd worm. Cleo. Get thee hence; farewell.

Clown. I wish you all joy of the worm. Cleo. Farewell. [Clown sets down the basket. Clown. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind.

-

Re-enter IRAS, with a robe, crown, &c.
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
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.-So,-have you done?
Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips.
Farewell, kind Charmian;-Iras, long farewell.
[Kisses them. IRAs falls and dies.
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 desir'd. Dost thou lie still?

If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world

It is not worth leave-taking.

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; and spend that kiss Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou mortal wretch,

[To the asp, which she applies to her breast. With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate