That rids our dogs of languish?
Pro.

Do not abuse my master's bounty, by
The undoing of yourself: let the world see
His nobleness well acted, which your death
Will never let come forth.

Cleo.
Where art thou, death?
Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen
Worth many babes and beggars!
O, temperance, lady!

Pro.

Cleo. Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir;
If idle talk will once be necessary,

I'll not sleep neither: This mortal house I'll ruin,
Do Cæsar what he can. Know, sir, that I
Will not wait pinion'd' at your master's court;
Nor once be chastis'd with the sober eye
Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up,
And show me to the shouting varletry2

Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
Be gentle grave to me! rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies
Blow me into abhorring! rather make
My country's high pyramides my gibbet,
And hang me up in chains!

Pro.

You do extend

These thoughts of horror further than you shall
Find cause in Cæsar.

Dol.

Enter Dolabella.

Proculeius,

What thou hast done thy master Cæsar knows,
And he hath sent for thee: as for the queen,
I'll take her to my guard.

So, Dolabella,

Pro.
If shall content me best: be gentle to her.-
To Cæsar I will speak what you shall please,
[To Cleopatra.
Say, I would die.
[Exeunt Proculeius, and Soldiers.
Dol. Most noble empress, you have heard of me?
Cleo. I cannot tell.

If you'll employ me to him.
Cleo.

Dol.

Dol.

Most sovereign creature,-
Cleo. His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm
Crested the world: his voice was propertied
As all the turned spheres, and that to friends;
But when he meant to quail3 and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty,
There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas,
That grew the more by reaping: His delights
Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back above
The element they liv'd in: In his livery
Walk'd crowns, and crownets; realms and islands

were

Gentle madam, no.

Cleo. You lie, up to the hearing of the gods.
But, if there be, or ever were one such,

It's past the size of dreaming: Nature wants stuff
To vie strange forms with fancy; yet, to imagine
An Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy,
Condemning shadows quite.

Dol.
Hear me, good madam :
Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it
As answering to the weight: 'Would I might never
O'ertake pursu'd success, but I do feel,

By the rebound of yours, a grief that shoots
My very heart at root.

Cleo.

I thank you, sir.

Know you, what Cæsar means to do with me?
Dol. I am loath to tell you what I would you

knew.

Cleo. Nay, pray you, sir,

Dol.
Though he be honourable,-
Cleo. He'll lead me then in triumph?
Dol.

I know it.

Madam, he will;

Within. Make way there,-Cæsar.

Enter Cæsar, Gallus, Proculeius, Mæcenas, Seleucus, and Attendants.

Dol. 'Tis the emperor, madam.
Cæs.

You shall not kneel:

I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt.

Cleo.
• Sir, the gods
Will have it thus; my master and my lord
I must obey.

Cas. Take to you no hard thoughts:
The record of what injuries you did us,
Though written in our flesh, we shall remember
As things but done by chance.
Cleo.
Sole sir o'the world,
I cannot project' mine own cause so well
To make it clear; but do confess, I have
Been laden with like frailties, which before
Have often sham'd our sex.

Assuredly, you know me.
Cleo. No matter, sir, what I have heard, or known.
You laugh when boys, or women, tell their dreams;
s't not your trick?
Cleopatra, know,
Dol.
We will extenuate rather than enforce:
Cleo. I dream'd, there was an emperor Antony ;-If you apply yourself to our intents

I understand not, madam.

O, such another sleep, that I might see
But such another man!

Dol.
Cleo. His face was as the heavens; and therein
stuck

Cæs.

(Which towards you are most gentle,) you shall
find

If it might please you,-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.

A sun, and moon; which kept their course, and lighted

The little Ö, the earth.

(1) Bound, confined. (2) Rabble. (3) Crush,

(4) Silver money,

(5) Shape or form,

Cleo. Let him come in. How poor an instru-|
ment
[Exit Guard.
May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty.
My resolution's plac'd, and I have nothing
Of woman in me: Now from head to fool
I am marble-constant: now the fleeting' moon
No planet is of mine.

Re-enter Guard, with a Clown bringing a basket.
Guard.
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 of 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 Iras, 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 Cæsar, 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 aspic 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.

This proves me base
If she first meet the curl'd Antony,
He'll make demand of her; and spend that kiss,
Which is my heaven to have. Come, mortal wreten,
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
[To the asp, which she applies to her breast.
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.
Cleo.

O castern star!

Peace, peace!
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 stay- [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.

Speak softly, wake her not. Too slow a messenger. [Applies the asp.

1 Guard. Cæsar hath sent-
Char.

O, come; apace, despatch:
1 Guard. Approach, ho!

sar's beguil'd.

I partly feel thee.
All's not well: Cæ-

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!

Enter Dolabella.
Dol. How goes it here?
2 Guard.

[Dies.

All dead.
Dol.
Cæsar, thy thoughts
Touch their effects in this: Thyself art coming
To see perform'd the dreaded act, which thou
So sought's to hinder.
[Within.]

A way there, way for Cæsar!
Enter Cæsar, 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
figs;
This was his basket.
Cas.

1 Guard.

Who was last with them? countryman, that brought her

Poison'd then.

O Cæsar,

This Charmian liv'd but now; she stood, and spake:

I found her trimming up the diadem.

In solem show, attend this funeral;
And then to Rome.-Come, Dolabella, see
High order in this great solemnity.

On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood,
And on the sudden dropp'd.

Cas.

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.'

Dol.

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

1 Guard. This is an aspic's trail: and these
leaves

Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves
Upon the caves of Nile.

Cas.

Most probable,
That so she died; for her physician tells me,
She hath pursu'd conclusions infinite
Of easy ways to die.-Take up her bed;
And bear her women from the monument:-
She shall be buried by her Antony:
No grave upon the earth shall clip" in it
A pair so famous. High events as these
Strike those that make them: and their story is
No less in pity, than his glory, which
Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall,

[Exeunt.

This play keeps curiosity always busy, and the passions always interested. The continual hurry of the action, the variety of incidents, and the quick fig-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 te Listory, ere produced without any art of connection er care of disposition.

JOHNSON.