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.

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 fore'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: the quick comedians
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
I'the posture of a whore.

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.-Now, Charinian?

Enter Charmian.

Show me, my women, like a queen ;-Go fetch My best attires-I am again for Cydnus,

To meet Mark Antony:-Sirrah, Iras, go-
Now, noble Charmian, we'll despatch indeed:
And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thes
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. How poor an 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: now the fleeting moon
No planet is of mine.

Re-enter Guard, with a Clown bringing a Basket.
Guard.
This is the man.

Cleo. Avoid, and leave him.
[Exit Guard
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 bit ing 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 hot. est 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.

[Claron sets down the basket. Clown. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do bis kind.

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. [Exit.

Re-enter Iras with a Robe, Crown, &r. 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 elegients

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, mortal wretch, [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, couldst thou speak! That I might hear thee call great Cæsar, ass Unpolicied!

Char. O eastern star! Cleo.

Peace, peace!

Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,

That sucks the nurse asleep?

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?-So, fare thee well.-
Now boast thee, death! in thy possession lies
A lass unparallel'd.-Downy windows, close;
And golden Phoebus never be beheld

Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry;
I'll mend it, and then play.

Enter the Guard, rushing in.

1 Guard. Where is the queen? Char.

Speak softly, wake her not.

1 Guard. Cæsar hath sentChar.

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.

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, 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. Cas.

1 Guard.

Poison'd then.

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:
The like is on her arm.

1 Guard. This is an aspic's trail: and these fig. leaves

Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves
Upon the caves of Nile.

Cæs.

Most probable,

That so she died; for her physician tells me,
She hath pursu'd 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

No less in pity, than his glory, which

Char. It is well done, and fitting for a princess Descended of so many royal kings.

In solemn show, attend this funeral;
And then to Rome.-Come, Dolabella, see
High order in this great solemnity.

[Exeunt,

To the great lord.

Poet. A thing slipp'd idly from me. Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes From whence 'tis nourished: The fire i'the flint

But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on,
Leaving no tract behind.

Pain. How shall I understand you?
Poct.

I'll unbolt to yolka

You see how all conditions, how all minds,

"Tis conceiv'd to scope.

Pain. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, With one man beckon'd from the rest below, Bowing his head against the steepy mount To climb his happiness, would be well express'd In our condition.

Poct. Nay, sir, but hear me on: All those which were his fellows but of late, (Some better than his value,) on the moment Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with 'tendance, Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, Make sacred even his stirrop, and through him Drink the free air.

Pain.

Ay, marry, what of these?

Poet. When Forttme, in her shift and change of mood,

Spurns down her late belov'd, ali his dependants,
Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top,
Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down,
Not one accompanying his declining foot
Pain. 'Tis common:

A thousand moral paintings I can show,

That shall demonstrate these quick blows of fortune
More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well,
To show lord Timon, that mean eyes have seen
The foot above the head.

Trumpets sound. Enter Timon attended; the Servant of Ventidius talking with him.

Tim.
Imprison'd is he, say you?
Ven. Serv. Ay, my good lord; five talents is his debt;
His means most short, his creditors most strait:
Your honourable letter he desires

To those have shut him up; which failing to him,
Periods his comfort.

I am not of that feather, to shake off*
My friend when he must need me. I do know him
A gentleman, that well deserves a help,
Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt, and free him.
Ven. Serv. Your lordship ever binds him.
Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ransome;
And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me:-
'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
But to support him after.-Fare you well.

Old Ath. Thou hast a servant nam'd Lucilius.
Tim. I have so: What of him?

Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.

Tim. Attends he here, or no?-Lucilius!
Enter Lucilius.

Luc. Here, at your lordship's service.

Old Ath. This fellow here, lord Timon, this thy creature,

By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift;
And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd,
Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim.
Well; what further ?
Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kiu else,
On whom I may confer what I have got:
The maid is fair, o'the youngest for a bride,
And I have bred her at my dearest cost,
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love: I pr'ythee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;
Myself have spoke in vain.

Tim.

How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband? Old Ath. Three talents, on the present; in future, all.

Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me long; To build his fortune, I will strain a little, For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise, And make him weigh with her.

Old Ath. Most noble lord, Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: Never may That state or fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not ow'd to you! [Exe. Luc. and Old Ath. Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lord

ship!

Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me anon Go not away.-What have you there, my friend? Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept.

Tim.

Painting is welcome.
The painting is almost the natural man ;
For since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
He is but out-side: These pencil'd figures are
Even such as they give out. I like your work;
And you shall find, I like it: wait attendance
Till you hear further from me.

Pain.
The gods preserve you!
Tim. Well fare you, gentlemen: Give me your hand;
We must needs dine together.-Sir, your jewel
Hath suffer'd under praise.

Jew.

-What, my lord? dispraise?

Tim. A mere satiety of commendations.