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Enter one of the Guard.
Re-enter Guard, with a Clown bringing a basket.
[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 defire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal; those, that do die of it, do feldom or never recover.
Cleo. Remember'it 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 9 – now the fleeting moon Alluding to the Egyptian devotion paid to the moon under the name of Isis.
I Worm is the Teutonick word for serpent; we have the blind-worm and now-w
-worm still in our language, and the Norwegians call an enormous monster, seen sometimes in the northern ocean, the sea-worm. In the Northern counties, the word worm is still given to the serpent species in general.
do, but in the way of honefty: how she died of the biting of it, what pain the felt,-Truly, the 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; farewel.
[Clown sets down the basket. Clown. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind 3.
Cleo. Ay, ay; farewel.
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 woinan: 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; farewel.
To 2 Shakspeare's clowns are always jokers, and deal in Ny satire. It is plain this must be read the contrary way, and all and balf change places.
But probably Shakspeare designed that confusion which the critick would disentangle.
3 The serpent will act according to his nature, 4 1. C. make hafte, be nimble, be ready.
To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
[kises them. Iras falls and dies:
Char. Diffolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may fay, The gods themselves do weep!
Cleo. This proves me base : If the 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 app, which she applies to her breaft. With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate Of life at once untie : poor venomous fool, Be angry, and dispatch. O, could'st thou speak! That I might hear thee call great Cæsar, ass Unpolicy'de!
Char. O eastern star !
Cleo. Peace, peace!
Char. O, break! O, break!
O An$ Are my lips poison'd by the aspick, that my kiss has destroyed thee?
6 Iras must be supposed to have applied an afp to her arm while her mistress was settling her dress, or I know not why she should fall so foon.
7 He will enquire of her concerning me, and kiss her for giving him intelligence,
8 i. e. an ass witbout more policy than to leave the means of death within my reach, and thereby deprive his triumph of its noblest decoration,
O Antony!-Nay, I will take thee too:
[applying another asp to her arm. What should I stay
[ falls on a bed, and dies. Cbar. In this wild world?So, fare thee well.Now boast thee, death! in thy poffeffion lies A lass unparallel'd.-Downy windows, clofe ; And golden Phobus 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 sent Char. Too flow a messenger.
[applies the app. O, come; apace, dispatch : I partly feel thee. 1. Guard. Approach, ho! All's not well: Cæsar's bee
guil'd. 2. Guard. There's Dolabella sent from Cæsar;-call him. 1. Guard. What work is here!-Charmian, is this well
it here? 2. Guard. All dead.
Dol. Cæsar, thy thoughts
Enter CÆSAR, and Attendants,
did fear, is done.
1. Guard. A fimple countryman, that brought her figs; This was his basket.
Cæf. Poison'd then.
1. Guard. O Cæsar,
Cæs. O noble weakness ! -
Dol, Here, on her breast,
1. Guard. This is an aspick’s trail: and these fig-leaves Have flime upon them, such as the aspick leaves Upon the caves of Nile.
Cæs. Most probable,
[Exeunt. 9 Shebaib pursued conclufions infinite-] i. e. numberless experiments