The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep
The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides!
Heart, once be stronger than thy continent,
Crack thy frail case! - Apace, Eros, apace.-
No more a soldier:-Bruised pieces, go;
You have been nobly borne. From me awhile.-
[Exit Eros.

I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now
All length is torture: -Since the torch is out,
Lie down, and stray no further: Now all labour
Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles
Itself with strength: Seal then, and all is done.-
Eros!-I come, my queen-Eros!-Stay for me:
Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand,
And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze:
Dido and her Æneas shall want troops,

And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros!

Re-enter Eros.

Eros. What would my lord? Ant.

Since Cleopatra died,

I have liv'd in such dishonour, that the gods Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back With ships made cities, condemn myself, to lack The courage of a woman; less noble mind

Than she, which, by her death, our Cæsar tells,
I am conqueror of myself. Thou art sworn, Eros,
That, when the exigent should come (which now
Is come, indeed), when I should see behind me
The inevitable prosecution of

Disgrace and horror, that, on my command,
Thou then wouldst kill me do't; the time is come:
Thou strik'st not me, 'tis Cæsar thou defeat'st.

Put colour in thy cheek.

Eros.

The gods withhold me! Shall I do that, which all the Parthian darts, Though enemy, lost aim, and could not?

Ant.

Eros, Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome, and see Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down His corrigible neck, his face subdued

To penetrative shame; whilst the wheel'd seat
Of fortunate Cæsar, drawn before him, branded

His baseness that ensued?

The thing why thou hast drawn it.

Eros.

I learn'd of thee. How! not yet dead? not dead?The guard!-ho!-O, despatch me.

1 Guard.

Enter Dercetas and Guard.

What's the noise? Ant. I have done my work ill, friends; O, make [an end

Of what I have begun.

2 Guard.

The star is fallen.

1 Guard. And time is at his period. All.

Alas, and woe!

Ant. Let him that loves me, strike me dead. 1 Guard.

2 Guard. Nor I.

3 Guard. Nor any one.

Not I.

[Exeunt Guard.

Der. Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. This sword but shown to Cæsar, with this tidings, Shall enter me with him.

Ant. Nay, good, my fellows, do not please sharp fate To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome Which comes to punish us, and we punish it Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up: I have led you oft; carry me now, good friends, And have my thanks for all.

[Exeunt, bearing Antony.

SCENE XIII. The same. A Monument.

Enter above, Cleopatra, Charmian, and Iras. Cleo. O Charmian, I will never go from hence. Char. Be comforted, dear madam. Cleo.

No, I will not:

All strange and terrible events are welcome, But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow, Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great

Enter Diomedes.

Char. Peace, peace, Iras.

Cleo. No more, but e'en a woman; and commanded

By such poor passion as the maid that milks,
And does the meanest chares. It were for me
To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods;
To tell them, that this world did equal theirs,
Till they had stolen our jewel. All's but naught;
Patience is sottish; and impatience does
Become a dog that's mad: Then is it sin,

To rash into the secret house of death,

Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women?
What, what? good cheer! Why, how now, Char-
My noble girls!-Ah, women, women! look, [mian
Our lamp is spent, it's out:--Good sirs, take heart:-
[To the Guard below.

We'll bury him and then, what's brave, what's
noble,
Let's do it after the high Roman fashion,
And make death proud to take us. Come, away;
This case of that huge spirit now is cold.
Ah, women! women! come we have no friend
But resolution, and the briefest end.

[Exeunt; those above bearing off Antony's Body.

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,
Unreconcileable, 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.

Cas.

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.

Cæs. 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.

Pro.

Cæsar, I shall.

[Exit.

Cæs. Gallus, go you along. Where's Dolabella, To second Proculeius? [Esit Gallus,

Agr. Mec.

Dolabella!

Cas. Let him alone, for I remember now How he's employ'd; he shall in time be ready. Go with me to my tent; where you shali see How hardly I was drawn into this war; How calm and gentle I proceeded still In all my writings: Go with me, and see What I can show in this.

[Exeunt. SCENE II.

Alexandria. A Room in the Monument.
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]

What's thy name?

Pro. My name is Proculeius.

Cleo. Within]

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

If it might please you, Cleo. His face was as the heavens and therein stuck A sun and moon; which kept their course, and lighted

That majesty, to deep decorum, must

No less beg than a kingdom: if he please

To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son,

He gives me so

so much of mine own, as 1

Will kneel to him with thanks.

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

reaping they lived in:

In his livery

[were Walk'd crow ns, and crownets; realms and islands As plates dropp'd from his pocket.

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,

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 pursu'd 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 loath to tell you what I would you knew.

Cleo. Nay, pray you, sir,

Cleo. He'll lead me then in triumph ?

Enter Cæsar, Gallus, Proculeius, Mecenas,

Seleucus, and Attendants.

[Drawing a Dagger.

Dol.

Hold, worthy lady, hoid:

Though he be honourable,

[Seizes and disarms her.

Dol.

Madam, he will;

I know it.

What, of death too,

Within. Make way there, Cæsar.

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. 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 to me! rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies
Blow me into ahhorring! rather make

My country's high pyramids my gibbet,

And hang me up in chains!

You shall not kneel:

I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt.
Cleo.

Will have it thus; my master and my lord
I must obey.

Cas. 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

To make it clear; but do confess, I have

Been laden with like frailties, which before

Have often sham'd our sex.

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.

[and we

Cleo. And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; 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,
Upon his peril, that I have reserv'd
To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus.

Sel. Madam,

I had rather seel my lips, than, to my peril, Speak that which is not.

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!
Good queen, let us entreat you.

Cas.

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 Cæsar,
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 me Beneath the fall I have. Pr'ythee, go hence;

[To Seleucus.

Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits
Through the ashes of my chance:-Wert thou a man,
Thou wouldst have mercy on me.

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.

Cas.

Cleopatra,

Not what you have reserv'd, ner 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 Cæsar and his Train. Cleo. He words me, girls, he words me, that I should Be noble to myself; but hark thee, Charmian. [not [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.

Cleo.

Behold, sir. [Exit.

Dolabella?

Dol. Madam, as thereto sworn by your command,

Which my love makes religion to obey,
I tell you this: Cesar through Syria

Intends his journey; and, within three days,

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 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: 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. Cleo. Ay, ay; farewell.