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. 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 spoken already, and it is provided;
Go, put it to the haste.

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.

I shall remain your debtor.

Dol.

Dolabella,

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.

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.

Cleo. Nay, that is certain.

O, the good gods!

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, Charmian?

Re-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, goo.-
Now, noble Charmian, we'll despatch indeed;
And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee
leave

To play till dooms-day.-Bring our crown and all.
Wherefore's this noise?

Guard.

[Exit IRAS. A noise within.

Enter one of the Guard.

Here is a rural fellow,

SIRRAH, Iras, go.] In Vol. iv. p. 236, we have seen "sirrah” used otherwise than derogatorily: here we find it also applied to a woman, but of course as a mere expletive. Steevens produced an instance from Arthur Hall's translation of Homer (from the French) where Hector addresses the "maids" of Andromache as Sirs.

That will not be denied your highness' presence:
He brings you figs.

Cleo. Let him come in. What 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 in a Basket.

Guard.

This is the man.

[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?

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.

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 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. 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.

Re-enter IRAS, with a Robe, Crown, &c.

[Exit.

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 aspick 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.

VOL. VIII.

K

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 Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool, Be angry, and despatch. O! could'st thou speak, That I might hear thee call great Cæsar ass Unpolicied!

Char.

O eastern star!

Cleo.

Peace, peace!

O, break! O, break!

Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
That sucks the nurse asleep?

Char.

Cleo. As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle.O Antony!-Nay, I will take thee too.―

What should I stay

[Applying another Asp to her Arm. [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 play2-

Enter the Guard, rushing in.

1 Guard. Where is the queen? Char.

Speak softly; wake her not.

1 Your crown's AWRY ;] So Pope, correcting away of the folios, by the narrative in North's Plutarch, which Daniel also here followed in his "Cleopatra," 1594.

2

and then play-] Charmian is interrupted by the sudden arrival of the Guard, and does not finish her sentence, as is indicated in the old copies by a line.