Imatges de pÓgina

My refolution's plac'd, and I have nothing
Of woman in me: Now from head to foot
I am marble-conftant: now the fleeting moon
No planet is of mine.(7)

Re-enter Guard, with the Clown bringing a Basket.

Guard. This is the man.

Cleo. Avoid, and leave him.

[Exit Guard.

Haft thou the pretty worm of Nilus there,(8)
That kills and pains not?

Clown. Truly I have him : but I would not be the party fhould defire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal; those, that do die of it, do seldom or never


Cleo. Remember'ft thou any that have dy'd on't?

Clown. Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, but fomething given to lie; as a woman fhould not do, but in the way of honefty: How the dy'd of the biting of it, what pain fhe felt! truly, fhe makes a very good report o'the worm; but he, that will believe all that they fay, fhall never be faved by half that they do. But this is moft fallible, the worm's an odd worm. Cleo. Get thee hence; farewel.

Clown. I wish you all joy of the worm.

Cleo. Farewel.

Clown. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind.(9)

Cleo. Ay, ay; farewel.

Clown. Look you, the worm is not to be trufted, but in the keeping of wife 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 fo fimple, 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

(7) Alluding to the Ægyptian devotion paid to the moon under the name of Ifis. WARB.

(8) Worm-is the Teutonick word for Serpent: we have the Blindworm and Slow-worm ftill in our language, and the Norwegians call an enormous monfter, feen fometimes in the northern ocean, the Sea-worm. JOH (9) The ferpent will act according to his nature. JOHNS

not. But, truly, these fame whore-fon devils do the Gods great harm in their women; for in every tem that they make, the devils mar five.

Cleo. Well, get thee gone; farewel.

Clown. Yes, forfooth; I wish you joy o' the worm.
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 moift this lip :-
Yare, yare, good Iras; quick-Methinks, I hear
Antony call; I fee him roufe himfelf

To praise my noble act. I hear him mock
The luck of Cæfar, which the Gods give men
To excufe 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 bafer life.. So-have you done?
Come then, and take the laft warmth of my lips.
Farewel, kind Charmian ;-Iras, long farewel.

[Applying the Afp.


Have I the afpick in my lips? Doft fall?
If thou and nature can fo gently part,.
The ftroke of death is as a lover's pinch,
Which hurts, and is defir'd. Doft thou lie ftill?
If thus thou vanisheft, thou tell'st the world

It is not worth leave-taking.

[IRAS dies.

Char. Diffolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say,

The Gods themselves do weep!

Cleo. This proves me base :

If the first meet the curled Antony,

He'll make demand of her ;(2) and spend that kifs,

Which is my heaven to have.---Come, thou mortal wretch

With thy fharp teeth this knot intrinficate [To the Serpent.
Of life at once untie : poor venomous fool,

Be angry, and dispatch. Oh, couldst thou speak,
That I might hear thee call great Cæsar, ass

Char. Oh eastern star !

Cleo. Peace, peace!

Doft thou not fee my baby at my breast,

That fucks the nurfe afleep?

Char. O break! O-break.!

(2). He will enquire of her concerning me, and kiss her for giving hum intelligence. JOHNS.

Cleo. As fweet as balm, as foft as air, as gentle, O Antony !-Nay, I will take thee too :[Applying another Afp to her Arm.

What should I ftay-
Char. In this wild world?-So, fare thee well.
Now, boaft thee, death! in thy poffeffion lies
A lafs unparallel'd-Downy windows, clofe;
And golden Phoebus never be beheld

Of eyes again fo royal! Your crown's awry;
I'll mend it, and then play,-

Enter the Guard, rushing in.
I Guard. Where is the queen ?
Char. Speak foftly, wake her not.
- 1 Guard. Cæfar hath fent-
Char. Too flow a meffenger.-


[CHARMIAN applies the Afp. Oh, come. Apace, difpatch :-I partly feel thee. I Guard. Approach, ho! All's not well: Cæfar's beguil'd. 2 Guard. There's Dolabella fent from Cæfar;-call him. I Guard. What work is here?-Charmian, is this well done?

Char. It is well done, and fitting for a princess Defcended of fo many royal kings.

Ah, foldier!



Dol. How goes it there?

2 Guard. All dead.

Dol. Cæfar, thy thoughts

Touch their effects in this: Thyfelf art coming
To fee perform'd the dreaded act, which thou
So fought'ft to hinder.

Enter CESAR and Attendants.

All. A way there, make way for Cæfar!
Dol. O, fir, you are too fure an augurer !

That, you did fear, is done..

Caf. Braveft at the last :

She levell❜d at our purposes, and, being royal,
Took her own way.-The manner of their deaths
I do not fee them bleed.

Dol. Who was laft with them?

I Guard. A fimple countryman, that brought her figs; This was the basket.

Caf. Poison'd then!

1 Guard. Oh Cæfar,

This Charmian liv'd but now; the flood, and fpake :
I found her trimming up the diadem

On her dead miftrefs; tremblingly she stood,
And on the sudden dropt.

Caf. Oh noble weakness !

If they had fwallow'd poifon, 'twould appear

By external fwelling

but the looks like sleep;

As the would catch another Antony

In her ftrong toil of grace.

Dol. Here on her breast

There is a vent of blood, and fomething blown :
The like is on her arm.

I Guard. This is an aspick's trail; and these fig-leaves Have flime upon them, fuch as the afpick leaves Upon the caves of Nile.

Caf. Moft probable,

That fo the dy'd; for her phyfician tells me,
She has purfu'd conclufions infinite

Of eafy ways to die.-Take up her bed;

And bear her women from the monument :-
She fhall be buried by her Antony:

No grave upon the earth fhall clip in it
A pair fo famous. High events as thefe

Strike thofe that make them: and their story is
No lefs in pity, than his glory, which

Brought them to be lamented. Our army fhall,
In folemn fhew, attend this funeral ;

And then to Rome.-Come, Dolabella, see
High order in this great folemnity.

[Exeunt omnes.


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