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Sole sir o'the world, | Make not your thoughts your prisons: no, dear
I cannot project mine own cause so well
Cleopatra, know, We will extenuate rather than enforce: If you apply yourself to our intents, (Which towards you are most gentle,) you shall find A benefit in this change; but if you seek To lay on me a cruelty, by taking Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself Of my good purposes, and put your children To that destruction which I'll guard them from, If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave.
Cleo. And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we,
[shall Your 'scutcheons, and your signs of conquest, Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord.
Cas. You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra. Cleo. This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels, I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued; Not petty things admitted.-Where's Seleucus? Sel. Here, madam.
Cleo. This is my treasurer; let him speak, my Upon his peril, that I have reserv'd
To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus.
I had rather seel my lips, than, to my peril,
Cas. Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve
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 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 Cæsar and his train. Cleo. He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not
Be noble to myself: but hark thee, Charmian.
I have spoke already, and it is provided;
Madam, I will.
Behold, sir. [Exit Char.
Dol. Madam, as thereto sworn by your command,
Cleo. I shall remain
I your servant. Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Cæsar. Cleo. Farewell, and thanks. [Exit Dol.] Now, Iras, what think'st thou! Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shewn In Rome, as well as I: mechanic slaves, With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths, Rank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded, And forced to drink their vapour.
The gods forbid !
Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see
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.
Why, that's the way
Shew me, my women, like a queen ;-Go fetch
To play till dooms-day.-Bring our crown and all.
Guard. Here is a rural fellow, That will not be denied your highness' presence; He brings you figs.
Cleo. Let him come in. How poor an instrument [Exit Guard.
May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty.
I am marble-constant: now the fleeting moon
Re-enter Guard, with a Clown bringing a basket.
This is the man. Cleo. Avoid, and leave him.— [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 desire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal; those, that do die of it, do seldom or never recover.
Cleo. Remember'st 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 o' the worm.
Cleo. Farewell. (Clown sets down the basket.) Clown. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind.
Re-enter TRAS, with a robe, crown, &c. 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 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 Caesar, 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? Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. Farewell, kind Charmian;-Iras, long farewell. (Kisses them. Iras falls and dies.) Have I the aspick in my lips? Dost fall? If thou and nature can so gently part, The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, Which hurts, and is desir'd. Dost thou lie still? If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world It is not worth leave-taking. [say, Char. Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may 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, 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, Be angry, and despatch. O, could'st thou speak! That I might hear thee call great Cæsar, ass Unpolicied! Char.
O eastern star!
Cleo. Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, That sucks the nurse asleep? Char. O, break! O, break! Cleo. As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,O Antony!-Nay, I will take thee too :— (Applying another asp to her arm.) What should I say- (Falls on a bed and dies.) Char. In this wild world?-So, fare thee well.— Now boast thee, death! in thy possession lies A lass unparallel'd.-Downy windows, close; And golden Phoebus 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.
1 Guard. Cæsar hath sentChar.
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.
[call him. 2 Guard. There's Dolabella sent from Cæsar ;1 Guard. What work is here?-Charmian, is this
Char. It is well done, and fitting for a princess, Descended of so many royal kings. Ah, soldier!
Enter DOLABElla. Dol. How goes it here? 2 Guard.
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, 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 levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal, Took her own way. The manner of their deaths? I do not see them bleed. Dol.
1 Guard. A simple This was his basket. Cæs.
Who was last with them? countryman, that brought her [figs;
1 Guard. 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.
O noble weakness!If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear By external swelling: but she looks like sleep, As she would catch another Antony In her strong toil of grace.
You speak him far.
1 Gent. I do extend him, sir, within himself; Crush him together, rather than unfold His measure duly.
2 Gent. What's his name, and birth?
1 Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: His father
(Then old and fond of issue,) took such sorrow,
I honour him
Even out of your report. But, 'pray you, tell me, Is she sole child to the king?
1 Gent. His only child. He had two sons, (if this be worth your hearing, Mark it,) the eldest of them at three years old, I'the swathing clothes the other, from their nursery Were stolen; and to this hour, no guess in knowWhich way they went. [ledge 2 Gent. How long is this ago? 1 Gent. Some twenty years. [vey'd! 2 Gent. That a king's children should be so conSo slackly guarded! and the search so slow, That could not trace them!
Howso'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.
I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant
I something fear my father's wrath, but nothing,
Post. My queen! my mistress!
O, lady, weep no more; lest I give cause
To walk this way: I never do him wrong,
Imo. Nay, stay a little :
Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
Such party were too petty. Look here, love;
Post. How! how! another?
You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
A lustre to it.
[my throne No; I rather added
O thou vile one!
A neat-herd's daughter! and my Leonatus
Not after our command. Away with her,
Queen. 'Beseech your patience :-Peace,
[comfort Cym. Nay, let her languish A drop of blood a-day; and, being aged, Die of this folly!
Enter PISANIO. Fy!-you must give way: Here is your servant.-How now, sir? What news? Pis. My lord, your son, drew on my master. Queen.
No harm, I trust, is done?
There might have been,
2 Lord. No, faith; not so much as his patience. (Aside.) Lord. Hurt him? his body's a passable carif he be not hurt: it is a thoroughfare for cass, steel, if it be not hurt.
2 Lord. His steel was in debt; it went o'the backside the town. (A side.) Clo. The villain would not stand me. 2 Lord. No; but he fled forward still, toward your face. (Aside.) 1 Lord. Stand you! You have 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. (A side.) Clo. And that she should love this fellow, and
she is damned.
2 Lord. If it be a sin to make a true election, (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.
Clo. You'll go with us?
1 Lord. I'll attend your lordship.
Clo. Nay, come, let's go together.
2 Lord. Well, my lord.
SCENE IV. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace.
Imo. I would thou grew'st unto the shores o'the haven,
And question'dst every sail: If he should write,
As offer'd mercy is. What was the last
Pis. With his next vantage.
Imo. I did not take my leave of him, but had
I am in heaven for him; or ere I could
Madam, I shall. [Exeunt. SCENE V.-Rome. An Apartment in Philario's
Enter PHILARIO, IACHIMO, a Frenchman, a Dutchman, and a Spaniard.
Iach. Believe it, sir: I have seen him in Britain: he was then of a crescent note; expected to prove so worthy, as since he hath been allowed the name of: but I could then have looked on him without the help of admiration; though the catalogue of his endowments had been tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by items.
Phi. You speak of him, when he was less furnished, than now he is, with that which makes him both without and within.
French. I have seen him in France: we had very many there, could behold the sun with as firm eyes as he.
Iach. This matter of marrying his king's daughter, (wherein he must be weighed rather by her value, than his own,) words him, I doubt not, a great deal from the matter.
French. And then his banishment:
Iach. Ay, and the approbation of those, that weep this lamentable divorce, under her colours, are wonderfully to extend him; be it but to fortify her judgment, which else an easy battery might lay flat, for taking a beggar without more quality. But how comes it, he is to sojourn with you? How creeps acquaintance!
Phi. His father and I were soldiers together; to whom I have been often bound for no less than my life:
Here comes the Briton: Let him be so entertained amongst you, as suits, with gentlemen of your knowing, to a stranger of his quality.-I beseech you all, be better known to this gentleman; whom I commend to you, as a noble friend of mine: How worthy he is, I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story him in his own hearing.
French. Sir, we have known together in Orleans. Post. Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies, which I will be ever to pay, and yet pay still.
French. Sir, you o'er-rate my poor kindness: I was glad I did atone my countryman and you; it had been pity, you should have been put together with so mortal a purpose, as then each bore, upon importance of so slight and trivial a nature.