O, Antony! I have follow'd thee to this; but we do lance Where mine his thoughts did kindle,-that our stars Our equalness to this.-Hear me, good friends,- To be ungentle. So the gods preserve thee! [Exit. Mess. And, with your speediest, bring us what she says, Cæsar, I shall, Agr. Mec. Dolabella! Cas. Let him alone, for I remember now How he's employed; he shall in time be ready. Go with me to my tent: where you shall see How hardly I was drawn into this war; How calm and gentle I proceeded still [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Alexandria. A Room in the Monu ment. Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS. A minister of her will; and it is great Enter, to the gates of the Monument, PROCULEIUS, 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 What's thy name? 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 No less beg than a kingdom: if he please Pro. 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 surprised. [Here PROCULEIUS, and two of the Guard descend the Monument by a ladder placed against a window, and, having descended, come behind CLEOPATRA. Some of the Guard unbar and open the gates. Guard her till Cæsar come. [TO PROCULEIUS and the Guard. [Exit GALLUS. Iras. Royal queen! Char. O, Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen!— Pro. [Drawing a dagger. Hold, worthy lady, hold: [Seizes her and disarms her. Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this Cleo. What, of death, too, That rids our dogs of languish ? Pro. Cleopatra, Do not abuse my master's bounty, by Cleo. Pro. I'll not sleep neither: this mortal house I'll ruin, O, such another sleep, that I might see A sun and moon; which kept their course, and lighted Most sovereign creature,- Walked crowns and crownets; realms and islands 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. By the rebound of yours, a grief that shoots Cleo. I thank you, sir. We will extenuate rather than enforce: (Which towards you are most gentle), you shall find Cleo, And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus ? 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. I had rather seal my lips, than, to my peril, What have I kept back? Sel. Enough to purchase what you have made known. Ces, Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve See, Cæsar! O, behold, Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes, To one so meek, that mine own servant should Addition of his envy! Say, good Cæsar, As we greet modern friends withal; and say, 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. Cas Forbear, Seleucus. [Exit SELEUCUS. Cleo. Be it known, that we, the greatest, are mis thought For things that others do; and, wheu we fall, We answer others' merits in our name, Are therefore to be pitied. Cas Cleopatra, 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: That we remain your friend; and so adieu. Not so: adieu. [Exeunt CESAR, and his Train, Cleo. He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not 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. Show me, my women, like a queen;-go fetch And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee leave To play till doomsday.-Bring our crown and all. [Exit IRAS. A noise within. Enter one of the Guard. Here is a rural fellow, Guard. May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty. Re-enter Guard with a Clown, bringing a basket. 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 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. Av, 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. [Exit. Re-enter IRAS, with a robe, crown, &c. Cleo. Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Inmortal 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? 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, Char. O, eastern star! Char. Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry; Enter the Guard, rushing in. 1 Guard. Where is the queen ? Char. Speak softly, wake her not. Too slow a messenger. [Applies the asp. 1 Guard. Cæsar hath sentChar. O, come; apace, despatch: I partly feel thee. 1 Guard. Approach, ho! all's not well: Cæsar's beguil'd. Dol. All dead. [Dies. 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, a way for Cæsar! Enter CESAR and Attendants. Dol. O, sir, you are too sure an augurer; That you did fear is done. Cæs. Bravest at the last: She levelled 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. Cæs. 1 Guard. Poison'd, then. O, Cæsar, Cæs. Dol. 1 Guard. This is an aspick's trail: and these fig leaves SCENE I.-Britain. ACT I. 00 1 Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: his father (Then old, and fond of issue), took such sorrow, 2 Gent, tell me, His only child. 1 Gent. He had two sons (If this be worth your hearing, Mark it): the eldest of them at three years old, The Garden behind Cymbe- ' the swathing-clothes the other, from their nursery line's Palace. Enter Two Gentlemen. Were stolen; and to this hour no guess in knowledge Which way they went. 2 Gent. How long is this ago ? 1 Gent. Some twenty years. 2 Gent. That a king's children should be so con vey'd! So slackly guarded! and the search so slow, That could not trace them! 1 Gent. Howsoe'er 'tis strange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at, Yet is it true, sir. 2 Gent. I do well believe you. 1 Gent. We must forbear: here comes the queen and princess. SCENE II.-The same. [Exeunt. After the slander of most step-mothers, Evil-ey'd unto you: you are my prisoner, but That lock up your restraint. For yon, Posthumus, I will be known your advocate: marry, yet Post. I will from hence to-day. Queen. Please your highness, You know the peril : I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying The pangs of barr'd affections; though the king Hath charg'd you should not speak together. [Exit QUERN. Imo. Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant Can tickle where she wounds !-My dearest husband, His rage can do on me: you must be gone; Post. My queen! my mistress! O, lady, weep no more; lest I give cause The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth. Re-enter QUEEN. Queen. Be brief, I pray you: If the king come, I shall incur I know not How much of his displeasure: yet I'll move him No harm, I trust, is done? Pis. [Aside. To walk this way: I never do him wrong, But he does buy my injuries, to be friends; Pavs dear for my offences. Post. [Exit. Were you but riding forth to air yourself, Post. How! how! another?- Ha! There might have been, But that my master rather play'd than fought, And had no help of anger: they were parted By gentlemen at hand. Queen. I am very glad on't. Imo. Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part. To draw upon an exile !-O, brave sir! I would they were in Afric both together; To bring him to the haven: left these notes Queen. This hath been Your faithful servant; I dare lay mine honour, He will remain so. Pis. I humbly thank your highness. About some half-hour hence, SCENE III.-A Public Place. Enter CLOTEN; and two Lords. 1 Lord. Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the violence of action hath made you reek as a sacri fice: where air comes out, air comes in: there's noue abroad so wholesome as that you vent. Clo. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift itHave I hurt him ? 2 Lord. No, faith; not so much as his patience. [Aside. 1 Lord. Hurt him! his body's a passable carcass, if he be not hurt: it is a thoroughfare for steel, if it be not hurt. 2 Lord. His steel was in debt: it went o'the back side the town. [Aside. Clo. The villain would not stand me. 2 Lord. No; but he fled forward still, toward your face. [Aside. 1 Lord. Stand you! You had land enough of your own: but he added to your having; gave you some ground. 2 Lord. As many inches as you have oceans: puppies! [Aside. Clo. I would, they had not come between us. 2 Lord. So would I, till you had measured how long a fool you were upon the ground. [Aside. Clo. And that she should love this fellow, and re fuse me! 2 Lord. If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damned. [Aside. 1 Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together: she's a good sign, but I have seen small reflection of her wit. 2 Lord. She shines not upon fools, lest the reflection should hurt her. [Aside. Clo. Come, I'll to my chamber: 'would there had been some hurt done! 2 Lord. I wish not so; unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt. |