The ftrong-wing'd Mercury fhould fetch thee up, [They draw Antony up to Cleopatra. And welcome, welcome. Die, where thou haft liv'd; Quicken with kiffing; had my lips that power, Thus would I wear them out. All. O heavy fight! Ant. I am dying, Egypt, dying. Give me fome wine, and let me fpeak a little. Ant. One word, fweet Queen.. Of Cæfar feek your honour, with your fafety 2 you Cleo. They do not go together. Ant. Gentle, hear me; None about Cæfar truft, but Proculeius. Cleo. My refolution, and my hands, I'll truft; None about Cæfar. Ant. The miferable change, now at my end, Lament, nor forrow at: but please your thoughts In feeding them with thofe my former fortunes, Wherein I liv'd the greatest prince o' th' world, The nobleft once; and do not now bafely die, Nor cowardly put off my helmet to I can no more My countryman: A Roman, by a Roman The The foldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girls Char. Oh, quietnefs, Lady! Iras. She's dead too, our fovereign, Char. Lady! Iras. Madam! Char. Oh Madam, Madam, Madam Char. ? Peace, peace, Ifis! [She faints. Cleo 8 Peace, peace, IRAS.] Cleopatra is fallen into a fwoon; her maids endeavour to recover her by invoking her by her several titles. At length, Charmian fays to the other, Peace, peace, Iras; on which Cleopatra comes to herself, and replies to these last words, No, you are mistaken I am a mere woman like yourself. Thus ftands this fenfelefs dialogue. But Shakespear never wrote it fo: We must obferve then, that the two women call her by her feveral titles, to fee which beft pleafed her; and this was highly in character: the Ancients thought, that not only Men, but Gods too, had fome names which, above others, they much delighted in, and would fooneft answer to; as we may fee by the hymns of Orpheus, Homer, and Callimachus. The Poet, conforming to this notion, makes the maids fay, Sovereign Lady, Madam, Royal Egypt, Emprefs. And now we come to the place in question: Charmian, when the faw none of thefe titles had their effect, invokes her by a still more flattering one; Peace, peace, Isis! for fo it fhould be read and pointed: i. e. peace, we can never move her by these titles: Let us give her her favourite name of the Goddess Isis. And now Cleopatra's answer becomes pertinent and fine; No more but a mere woman; and commanded i.e. I now fee the folly of affuming to myfelf thofe flattering titles of divinity. My misfortunes, and my impotence in bearing them, convince me I am a mere woman and fubject to all the paffions of the meanest of my species. Here the Poet has followed Hiftory exactly, and what is more, his author Plutarch in Antonio; who fays, that Cleopatra affumed the habit and attributes of that Goddess, and gave judgments or rather oracles to her people Cleo. "No more but a meer woman; and commanded "By fuch poor paffion as the maid that milks, "And does the meaneft chares!-It were for me "To throw my fcepter at th' injurious Gods; "To tell them, that this world did equal theirs, " "Till they had ftol'n our jewel. All's but naught: "Patience is fottish, and impatience does "Become a dog that's mad: Then is it fin, "To rufh into the fecret house of death, 66 "Ere death dare come to us? how do you, women ? "What, what, good cheer! why, how now, Charmian? My noble girls?— -ah, women, women! look, "Our lamp is spent, it's out-good Sirs, take heart, "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. This cafe of that huge fpirit now is cold. Come away, Ah, women, women! come, we have no friend [Exeunt, bearing off Antony's body. people under the quality of the NEW ISIS Κλεοπάτρα μὲν γὰ καὶ τότε καὶ τὸν ἄλλον χρόνον εις πλήθθ ἐξιῖσα, στολὴν ἑτέραν ἱερον ΙΣΙΔΟΣ ἐλάμβανε, καὶ ΝΕΑ ΙΣΙΣ ἐχρημάτιζε. ACT A CT V. SCENE I. CESAR'S Camp. Enter Cæfar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Mecænas, CESAR. O to him, Dolabella, bid him yield ; G Being fo fruftrate, tell him, He mocks the pauses that he makes. [Exit Dolabella, Enter Dercetas, with the fword of Antony. Caf. Wherefore is that? and what art thou, that dar'ft Appear thus to us? Der. I am call'd Dercetas ; Mark Antony I ferv'd, who beft was worthy Beft to be ferv'd; whilft he ftood up, and spoke, To spend upon his haters. If thou please To take me to thee, as I was to him I'll be to Cæfar: If thou pleaseft not, I yield thee up my life. Caf. What is't thou fay'st? Der. I fay, oh, Cæfar, Antony is dead. Caf. The breaking of fo great a thing should make A greater crack. The round world fhould have fhook Lions into civil ftreets, and citizens Into their dens-The death of Antony Der. He is dead, Cæfar, Not Not by a publick minifter of juftice, Nor by a hired knife; but that self-hand, Hath with the courage, which the heart did lend it, I robb'd his wound of it: behold it ftain'd Caf. Look you fad, friends: The Gods rebuke me, but it is a tiding Agr. And ftrange it is, That nature must compel us to lament · Mec. His taints and honours Weigh'd equal in him. Agr. A rarer fpirit never Did fteer humanity; but you Gods will give us Mec. When fuch a fpacious mirror's fet before him, He needs muft fee himself. Caf. O Antony! I've follow'd thee to this-but we do lance Our equalness to this, Hear me, good friends, Enter |