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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.


Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain, that I may say, The gods themselves do weep.


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, thou 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. Q! could'st thou speak,
That I might hear thee call great Cæsar ass

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Cleo. As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle. O Antony! - Nay, I will take thee too.

What should I stay

[Applying another Asp to her Arm.

[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. Char.

Where is the queen?

Speak softly; wake her not.

1 Guard. Cæsar hath sent


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.



Dol. How goes it here?

2 Guard.



Enter DOLabella.

All dead.

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! a way for Cæsar!

Enter CESAR, and all his Train.

Dol. 0, Sir! you are too sure an augurer:

That you did fear, is done.


Bravest at the last:

She levell❜d at our purposes, and, being royal,

The manner of their deaths?

Took her own way.
I do not see them bleed.


Who was last with them?

1 Guard. A simple countryman that brought her figs : This was his basket.


1 Guard.

Poison'd, then.

O Cæsar!

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, 't would appear

By external swelling; but she looks like sleep,
As she would catch another Antony

In her strong toil of grace.


Here, on her breast,

There is a vent of blood, and something blown :

The like is on her arm.

1 Guard. This is an aspick's trail; and these fig-leaves

Have slime upon them,

such as the aspick leaves

Most probable,

Upon the caves of Nile.

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




CYMBELINE, King of Britain.
CLOTEN, Son to the Queen by a
former Husband.
band to Imogen.
BELARIUS, a banished Lord, dis-
guised under the name of Morgan.
Sons to Cymbeline,
GUIDERIUS, disguised under the


A French Gentleman, Friend to

CAIUS LUCIUS, General of the Roman Forces. A Roman Captain. Two British Captains. PISANIO, Servant to Posthumus. CORNELIUS, a Physician. Two Gentlemen. names ofPolydore and Two Jailors. ARVIRAGUS, Cadwal, supposed Sons to Belarius. PHILARIO, Friend to Post-) bumus,


IACHIMO, Friend to Phila- lians. rio,

QUEEN, Wife to Cymbeline.
IMOGEN, Daughter to Cymbeline
by a former Queen.
HELEN, Woman to Imogen.

Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, Apparitions, a Soothsayer, a Dutch Gentleman, a Spanish Gentleman, Musicians, Officers, Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.

SCENE, sometimes in Britain, sometimes in Italy.


Britain. The Garden behind CYMBELINE'S Palace.

Enter Two Gentlemen.

1 Gent. You do not meet a man, but frowns: our bloods

No more obey the heavens, than our courtiers

Still seem as does the king.

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