If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world It is not worth leave-taking. 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 her1; and spend that kiss, Which is my heaven to have. Come, 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, Char. Cleo. O eastern star! Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, That sucks the nurse asleep? Peace, peace! O, break! O, break! Char. Now boast thee, death! in thy possession lies ♦ He'll make demand of her;] He will enquire of her concerning me, and kiss her for giving him intelligence. +"Come, thou mortal wretch," &c.-MALONE. Unpolicied!] i. e. an ass without more policy than to leave the means of death within my reach, and thereby deprive his triumph of its noblest decoration. 6 Downy windows, close ;] Charmian, in saying this must be conceived to close Cleopatra's eyes; one of the first ceremonies performed toward a dead body. Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry; Enter the Guard, rushing in. 1 Guard. Where is the queen ? Char. 1 Guard. Cæsar hath sent Char. Speak softly, wake her not. - Too slow a messenger. [Applies the Asp. O, come; apace, despatch: I partly feel thee. 1 Guard. Approach, ho! All's not well: Cæsar's beguil❜d. 2 Guard. There's Dolabella sent from Cæsar ; — call him. 1 Guard. What work is here? - Charmian, is this well done? Char. It is well done, and fitting for a princess Descended of so many royal kings. Ah, soldier! Dol. How goes it here? 2 Guard. Dol. [Dies. Enter DOLABELLA. All dead. Cæsar, thy thoughts Touch their effects in this: Thyself art coming 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. 7 and then play.] i. e. play her part in this tragick scene by destroying herself: or she may mean, that having performed her last office for her mistress, she will accept the permission given her before, to "play till doomsday." Cæs. Bravest at the last: She levell❜d at our purposes, and, being royal, Took her own way. The manner of their deaths? This Charmian lived but now; she stood, and spake: I found her trimming up the diadem On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood, And on the sudden dropp'd. Cæs. O noble weakness! If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear In her strong toil of grace. Dol. Here, on her breast, There is a vent of blood, and something blown: 8 1 Guard. This is an aspick's trail: and these figleaves Have slime upon them, such as the aspick leaves Upon the caves of Nile. Cæs. Most probable, That so she died; for her physician tells me, Of easy ways to die. Take And bear her women from the monument: She shall be buried by her Antony: No grave upon the earth shall clip' in it - something blown:] The flesh is somewhat puffed or swoln. 9 She hath pursu'd conclusions infinite-] To pursue conclusions, is to try experiments. 1 shall clip] i. e. infold. A pair so famous. High events as these Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall, And then to Rome. - Come, Dolabella, see their story is [Exeunt.3 No less in pity, than his glory, &c.] i. e. the narrative of such events demands not less compassion for the sufferers, than glory on the part of him who brought on their sufferings. 3 This play keeps curiosity always busy, and the passions always interested. The continual hurry of the action, the variety of incidents, and the quick succession of one personage to another, call the mind forward without intermission from the first Act to the last. But the power of delighting is derived principally from the frequent changes of the scene; for, except the feminine arts, some of which are too low, which distinguish Cleopatra, no character is very strongly discriminated. Upton, who did not easily miss what he desired to find, has discovered that the language of Antony is, with great skill and learning, made pompous and superb, according to his real practice. But I think his diction not distinguishable from that of others: the most tumid speech in the play is that which Cæsar makes to Octavia. The events, of which the principal are described according to history, are produced without any art of connection or care of disposition. JOHNSON. |