Enter Cleopatra and her maids aloft, with Charmian and Iras.
CLEOPATRA.
O Charmian, I will never go from hence.
CHARMIAN.
Be comforted, dear madam.
CLEOPATRA.
No, I will not.
All strange and terrible events are welcome,
But comforts we despise. Our size of sorrow,
Proportioned to our cause, must be as great
As that which makes it.
Enter, below Diomedes.
How now! Is he dead?
DIOMEDES.
His death’s upon him, but not dead.
Look out o’ th’ other side your monument;
His guard have brought him thither.
Enter, below Antony borne by the Guard.
CLEOPATRA.
O sun,
Burn the great sphere thou mov’st in! Darkling stand
The varying shore o’ th’ world. O Antony,
Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian! Help, Iras, help!
Help, friends below! Let’s draw him hither.
ANTONY.
Peace!
Not Caesar’s valour hath o’erthrown Antony,
But Antony’s hath triumphed on itself.
CLEOPATRA.
So it should be, that none but Antony
Should conquer Antony, but woe ’tis so!
ANTONY.
I am dying, Egypt, dying. Only
I here importune death awhile until
Of many thousand kisses the poor last
I lay upon thy lips.
CLEOPATRA.
I dare not, dear
Dear my lord, pardon. I dare not,
Lest I be taken. Not th’ imperious show
Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall
Be brooched with me; if knife, drugs, serpents, have
Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe.
Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes
And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour
Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony—
Help me, my women—we must draw thee up.
Assist, good friends.
ANTONY.
O, quick, or I am gone.
CLEOPATRA.
Here’s sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord!
Our strength is all gone into heaviness;
That makes the weight. Had I great Juno’s power,
The strong-winged Mercury should fetch thee up
And set thee by Jove’s side. Yet come a little;
Wishers were ever fools. O come, come come,
[_They heave Antony aloft to Cleopatra._]
And welcome, welcome! Die where thou hast lived;
Quicken with kissing. Had my lips that power,
Thus would I wear them out.
ALL.
A heavy sight!
ANTONY.
I am dying, Egypt, dying.
Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.
CLEOPATRA.
No, let me speak, and let me rail so high
That the false huswife Fortune break her wheel,
Provoked by my offence.
ANTONY.
One word, sweet queen:
Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O!
CLEOPATRA.
They do not go together.
ANTONY.
Gentle, hear me.
None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.
CLEOPATRA.
My resolution and my hands I’ll trust;
None about Caesar.
ANTONY.
The miserable change now at my end
Lament nor sorrow at, but please your thoughts
In feeding them with those my former fortunes
Wherein I lived the greatest prince o’ th’ world,
The noblest; and do now not basely die,
Not cowardly put off my helmet to
My countryman; a Roman by a Roman
Valiantly vanquished. Now my spirit is going;
I can no more.
CLEOPATRA.
Noblest of men, woo’t die?
Hast thou no care of me? Shall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy absence is
No better than a sty? O, see, my women,
[_ Antony dies._]
The crown o’ th’ earth doth melt.—My lord!
O, withered is the garland of the war,
The soldier’s pole is fallen; young boys and girls
Are level now with men. The odds is gone,
And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting moon.
[_Faints._]
CHARMIAN.
O, quietness, lady!
IRAS.
She is dead too, our sovereign.
CHARMIAN.
Lady!
IRAS.
Madam!
CHARMIAN.
O madam, madam, madam!
IRAS.
Royal Egypt, Empress!
CHARMIAN.
Peace, peace, Iras!
CLEOPATRA.
No more but e’en a woman, and commanded
By such poor passion as the maid that milks
And does the meanest chares. It were for me
To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods,
To tell them that this world did equal theirs
Till they had stolen our jewel. All’s but naught;
Patience is sottish, and impatience does
Become a dog that’s mad. Then is it sin
To rush into the secret house of death
Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women?
What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian?
My noble girls! Ah, women, women! Look,
Our lamp is spent, it’s out! Good sirs, take heart.
We’ll bury him; and then, what’s brave, what’s noble,
Let’s do it after the high Roman fashion
And make death proud to take us. Come, away.
This case of that huge spirit now is cold.
Ah, women, women! Come, we have no friend
But resolution and the briefest end.
[_Exeunt, bearing off Antony’s body._]
ACT V
SCENE I. Caesar’s Camp before Alexandria.
Enter Caesar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Maecenas, Gallus, Proculeius with
his council of war.
CAESAR.
Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield.
Being so frustrate, tell him, he mocks
The pauses that he makes.
DOLABELLA.
Caesar, I shall.
[_Exit._]
Enter Dercetus with the sword of Antony.
CAESAR.
Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar’st
Appear thus to us?
DERCETUS.
I am called Dercetus.
Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy
Best to be served. Whilst he stood up and spoke,
He was my master, and I wore my life
To spend upon his haters. If thou please
To take me to thee, as I was to him
I’ll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not,
I yield thee up my life.
CAESAR.
What is’t thou say’st?
DERCETUS.
I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.
CAESAR.
The breaking of so great a thing should make
A greater crack. The round world
Should have shook lions into civil streets,
And citizens to their dens. The death of Antony
Is not a single doom; in the name lay
A moiety of the world.
DERCETUS.
He is dead, Caesar,
Not by a public minister of justice,
Nor by a hired knife, but that self hand
Which writ his honour in the acts it did
Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,
Splitted the heart. This is his sword.
I robbed his wound of it. Behold it stained
With his most noble blood.
CAESAR.
Look you sad, friends?
The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings
To wash the eyes of kings.
AGRIPPA.
And strange it is
That nature must compel us to lament
Our most persisted deeds.
MAECENAS.
His taints and honours
Waged equal with him.
AGRIPPA.
A rarer spirit never
Did steer humanity, but you gods will give us
Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touched.
MAECENAS.
When such a spacious mirror’s set before him,
He needs must see himself.
CAESAR.
O Antony,
I have followed thee to this, but we do lance
Diseases in our bodies. I must perforce
Have shown to thee such a declining day
Or look on thine. We could not stall together
In the whole world. But yet let me lament
With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,
That thou, my brother, my competitor
In top of all design, my mate in empire,
Friend and companion in the front of war,
The arm of mine own body, and the heart
Where mine his thoughts did kindle, that our stars,
Unreconciliable, should divide
Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends—
Enter an Egyptian.
But I will tell you at some meeter season.
The business of this man looks out of him;
We’ll hear him what he says. Whence are you?
EGYPTIAN.
A poor Egyptian yet. The queen, my mistress,
Confined in all she has, her monument,
Of thy intents desires instruction,
That she preparedly may frame herself
To the way she’s forced to.
CAESAR.
Bid her have good heart.
She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,
How honourable and how kindly we
Determine for her. For Caesar cannot lean
To be ungentle.
EGYPTIAN.
So the gods preserve thee!
[_Exit._]
CAESAR.
Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say
We purpose her no shame. Give her what comforts
The quality of her passion shall require,
Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke
She do defeat us, for her life in Rome
Would be eternal in our triumph. Go,
And with your speediest bring us what she says
And how you find of her.
PROCULEIUS.
Caesar, I shall.
[_Exit Proculeius._]
CAESAR.
Gallus, go you along.
[_Exit Gallus._]
Where’s Dolabella, to second Proculeius?
ALL.
Dolabella!
CAESAR.
Let him alone, for I remember now
How he’s employed. He shall in time be ready.
Go with me to my tent, where you shall see
How hardly I was drawn into this war,
How calm and gentle I proceeded still
In all my writings. Go with me and see
What I can show in this.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE II. Alexandria. A Room in the Monument.
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian and Iras.
CLEOPATRA.
My desolation does begin to make
A better life. ’Tis paltry to be Caesar;
Not being Fortune, he’s but Fortune’s knave,
A minister of her will. And it is great
To do that thing that ends all other deeds,
Which shackles accidents and bolts up change,
Which sleeps and never palates more the dung,
The beggar’s nurse and Caesar’s.
Enter Proculeius.
PROCULEIUS.
Caesar sends greetings to the queen of Egypt,
And bids thee study on what fair demands
Thou mean’st to have him grant thee.
CLEOPATRA.
What’s thy name?
PROCULEIUS.
My name is Proculeius.
CLEOPATRA.
Antony
Did tell me of you, bade me trust you, but
I do not greatly care to be deceived
That have no use for trusting. If your master
Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him
That majesty, to keep decorum, must
No less beg than a kingdom. If he please
To give me conquered Egypt for my son,
He gives me so much of mine own as I
Will kneel to him with thanks.
PROCULEIUS.
Be of good cheer.
You are fallen into a princely hand; fear nothing.
Make your full reference freely to my lord,
Who is so full of grace that it flows over
On all that need. Let me report to him
Your sweet dependency, and you shall find
A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness
Where he for grace is kneeled to.
CLEOPATRA.
Pray you tell him
I am his fortune’s vassal and I send him
The greatness he has got. I hourly learn
A doctrine of obedience, and would gladly
Look him i’ th’ face.
PROCULEIUS.
This I’ll report, dear lady.
Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied
Of him that caused it.
Enter Gallus and Roman Soldiers.
You see how easily she may be surprised.
Guard her till Caesar come.
IRAS.
Royal queen!
CHARMIAN.
O Cleopatra, thou art taken, queen!
CLEOPATRA.
Quick, quick, good hands.
[_Drawing a dagger._]
PROCULEIUS.
Hold, worthy lady, hold!
[_Seizes and disarms her._]
Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this
Relieved, but not betrayed.
CLEOPATRA.
What, of death too,
That rids our dogs of languish?
PROCULEIUS.
Cleopatra,
Do not abuse my master’s bounty by
Th’ undoing of yourself. Let the world see
His nobleness well acted, which your death
Will never let come forth.
CLEOPATRA.
Where art thou, Death?
Come hither, come! Come, come, and take a queen
Worth many babes and beggars!
PROCULEIUS.
O, temperance, lady!
CLEOPATRA.
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 Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I
Will not wait pinioned at your master’s court,
Nor once be chastised with the sober eye
Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up
And show me to the shouting varletry
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
Be gentle grave unto 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!
PROCULEIUS.
You do extend
These thoughts of horror further than you shall
Find cause in Caesar.
Enter Dolabella.
DOLABELLA.
Proculeius,
What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows,
And he hath sent for thee. For the queen,
I’ll take her to my guard.
PROCULEIUS.
So, Dolabella,
It shall content me best. Be gentle to her.
[_To Cleopatra._] To Caesar I will speak what you shall please,
If you’ll employ me to him.
CLEOPATRA.
Say I would die.
[_Exeunt Proculeius and Soldiers._]
DOLABELLA.
Most noble empress, you have heard of me?
CLEOPATRA.
I cannot tell.
DOLABELLA.
Assuredly you know me.
CLEOPATRA.
No matter, sir, what I have heard or known.
You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams;
Is’t not your trick?
DOLABELLA.
I understand not, madam.
CLEOPATRA.
I dreamt there was an Emperor Antony.
O, such another sleep, that I might see
But such another man!
DOLABELLA.
If it might please you—
CLEOPATRA.
His face was as the heavens, and therein stuck
A sun and moon, which kept their course, and lighted
The little O, the earth.
DOLABELLA.
Most sovereign creature—
CLEOPATRA.
His legs bestrid the ocean; his reared arm
Crested the world; his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;
But when he meant to quail 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 showed his back above
The element they lived in. In his livery
Walked crowns and crownets; realms and islands were
As plates dropped from his pocket.
DOLABELLA.
Cleopatra—
CLEOPATRA.
Think you there was or might be such a man
As this I dreamt of?
DOLABELLA.
Gentle madam, no.
CLEOPATRA.
You lie up to the hearing of the gods!
But if there be nor ever were one such,
It’s past the size of dreaming. Nature wants stuff
To vie strange forms with fancy; yet t’ imagine
An Antony were nature’s piece ’gainst fancy,
Condemning shadows quite.
DOLABELLA.
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 pursued success, but I do feel,
By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites
My very heart at root.
CLEOPATRA.
I thank you, sir.
Know you what Caesar means to do with me?
DOLABELLA.
I am loath to tell you what I would you knew.
CLEOPATRA.
Nay, pray you, sir.
DOLABELLA.
Though he be honourable—
CLEOPATRA.
He’ll lead me, then, in triumph.
DOLABELLA.
Madam, he will. I know it.
Flourish. Enter Caesar, Proculeius, Gallus, Maecenas and others of his
train.
ALL.
Make way there! Caesar!
CAESAR.
Which is the Queen of Egypt?
DOLABELLA.
It is the Emperor, madam.
[_Cleopatra kneels._]
CAESAR.
Arise, you shall not kneel.
I pray you, rise. Rise, Egypt.
CLEOPATRA.
Sir, the gods
Will have it thus. My master and my lord
I must obey.
CAESAR.
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.
CLEOPATRA.
Sole sir o’ th’ 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 shamed our sex.
CAESAR.
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.
CLEOPATRA.
And may, through all the world. ’Tis yours, and we,
Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall
Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord.
CAESAR.
You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra.
CLEOPATRA.
This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels
I am possessed of. ’Tis exactly valued,
Not petty things admitted. Where’s Seleucus?
Enter Seleucus.
SELEUCUS.
Here, madam.
CLEOPATRA.
This is my treasurer. Let him speak, my lord,
Upon his peril, that I have reserved
To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus.
SELEUCUS.
Madam, I had rather seal my lips
Than to my peril speak that which is not.
CLEOPATRA.
What have I kept back?
SELEUCUS.
Enough to purchase what you have made known.
CAESAR.
Nay, blush not, Cleopatra. I approve
Your wisdom in the deed.
CLEOPATRA.
See, Caesar! O, behold,
How pomp is followed! Mine will now be yours
And should we shift estates, yours would be mine.
The ingratitude of this Seleucus does
Even make me wild. O slave, of no more trust
Than love that’s hired! What, goest thou back? Thou shalt
Go back, I warrant thee! But I’ll catch thine eyes
Though they had wings. Slave, soulless villain, dog!
O rarely base!
CAESAR.
Good queen, let us entreat you.
CLEOPATRA.
O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this,
That thou vouchsafing here to visit me,
Doing the honour of thy lordliness
To one so meek, that mine own servant should
Parcel the sum of my disgraces by
Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar,
That I some lady trifles have reserved,
Immoment toys, things of such dignity
As we greet modern friends withal; and say
Some nobler token I have kept apart
For Livia and Octavia, to induce
Their mediation, must I be unfolded
With one that I have bred? The gods! It smites me
Beneath the fall I have.
[_To Seleucus_.] Prithee go hence,
Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits
Through th’ ashes of my chance. Wert thou a man,
Thou wouldst have mercy on me.
CAESAR.
Forbear, Seleucus.
[_Exit Seleucus._]
CLEOPATRA.
Be it known that we, the greatest, are misthought
For things that others do; and when we fall,
We answer others’ merits in our name,
Are therefore to be pitied.
CAESAR.
Cleopatra,
Not what you have reserved nor what acknowledged
Put we i’ th’ roll of conquest. Still be’t yours;
Bestow it at your pleasure, and believe
Caesar’s no merchant to make prize with you
Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheered;
Make not your thoughts your prisons. No, dear queen;
For we intend so to dispose you as
Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed and sleep.
Our care and pity is so much upon you
That we remain your friend; and so, adieu.
CLEOPATRA.
My master and my lord!
CAESAR.
Not so. Adieu.
[_Flourish. Exeunt Caesar and his train._]
CLEOPATRA.
He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not
Be noble to myself. But hark thee, Charmian!
[_Whispers to Charmian._]
IRAS.
Finish, good lady. The bright day is done,
And we are for the dark.
CLEOPATRA.
Hie thee again.
I have spoke already, and it is provided.
Go put it to the haste.
CHARMIAN.
Madam, I will.
Enter Dolabella.
DOLABELLA.
Where’s the Queen?
CHARMIAN.
Behold, sir.
[_Exit._]
CLEOPATRA.
Dolabella!
DOLABELLA.
Madam, as thereto sworn by your command,
Which my love makes religion to obey,
I tell you this: Caesar through Syria
Intends his journey, and within three days
You with your children will he send before.
Make your best use of this. I have performed
Your pleasure and my promise.
CLEOPATRA.
Dolabella,
I shall remain your debtor.
DOLABELLA.
I your servant.
Adieu, good queen. I must attend on Caesar.
CLEOPATRA.
Farewell, and thanks.
[_Exit Dolabella._]
Now, Iras, what think’st thou?
Thou an Egyptian puppet shall be shown
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.
IRAS.
The gods forbid!
CLEOPATRA.
Nay, ’tis most certain, Iras. Saucy lictors
Will catch at us like strumpets, and scald rhymers
Ballad us out o’ tune. The quick comedians
Extemporally will stage us and present
Our Alexandrian revels; Antony
Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see
Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness
I’ th’ posture of a whore.
IRAS.
O the good gods!
CLEOPATRA.
Nay, that’s certain.
IRAS.
I’ll never see’t, for I am sure mine nails
Are stronger than mine eyes.
CLEOPATRA.
Why, that’s the way
To fool their preparation and to conquer
Their most absurd intents.
Enter Charmian.
Now, Charmian!
Show me, my women, like a queen. Go fetch
My best attires. I am again for Cydnus
To meet Mark Antony. Sirrah, Iras, go.
Now, noble Charmian, we’ll dispatch indeed,
And when thou hast done this chare, I’ll give thee leave
To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all.
[_Exit Iras. A noise within._]
Wherefore’s this noise?
Enter a Guardsman.
GUARDSMAN.
Here is a rural fellow
That will not be denied your highness’ presence.
He brings you figs.
CLEOPATRA.
Let him come in.
[_Exit Guardsman._]
What poor an instrument
May do a noble deed! He brings me liberty.
My resolution’s placed, and I have nothing
Of woman in me. Now from head to foot
I am marble-constant. Now the fleeting moon
No planet is of mine.
Enter Guardsman and Clown with a basket.
GUARDSMAN.
This is the man.
CLEOPATRA.
Avoid, and leave him.
[_Exit Guardsman._]
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.
CLEOPATRA.
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’ th’ worm;
but he that will believe all that they say shall never be saved by half
that they do. But this is most falliable, the worm’s an odd worm.
CLEOPATRA.
Get thee hence. Farewell.
CLOWN.
I wish you all joy of the worm.
[_Sets down the basket._]
CLEOPATRA.
Farewell.
CLOWN.
You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind.
CLEOPATRA.
Ay, ay, farewell.
CLOWN.
Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the keeping of wise
people; for indeed there is no goodness in the worm.
CLEOPATRA.
Take thou no care; it shall be heeded.
CLOWN.
Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is not worth the
feeding.
CLEOPATRA.
Will it eat me?
CLOWN.
You must not think I am so simple 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 not. But truly, these same whoreson devils do the gods great
harm in their women, for in every ten that they make, the devils mar
five.
CLEOPATRA.
Well, get thee gone. Farewell.
CLOWN.
Yes, forsooth. I wish you joy o’ th’ worm.
[_Exit._]
Enter Iras with a robe, crown, &c.
CLEOPATRA.
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 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 desired. Dost thou lie still?
If thus thou vanishest, thou tell’st the world
It is not worth leave-taking.
CHARMIAN.
Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain, that I may say
The gods themselves do weep!
CLEOPATRA.
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 an 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 dispatch. O couldst thou speak,
That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass
Unpolicied!
CHARMIAN.
O eastern star!
CLEOPATRA.
Peace, peace!
Dost thou not see my baby at my breast
That sucks the nurse asleep?
CHARMIAN.
O, break! O, break!
CLEOPATRA.
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—
[_Dies._]
CHARMIAN.
In this vile world? So, fare thee well.
Now boast thee, Death, in thy possession lies
A lass unparalleled. Downy windows, close,
And golden Phœbus never be beheld
Of eyes again so royal! Your crown’s awry;
I’ll mend it and then play.
Enter the Guard rustling in.
FIRST GUARD.
Where’s the queen?
CHARMIAN.
Speak softly. Wake her not.
FIRST GUARD.
Caesar hath sent—
CHARMIAN.
Too slow a messenger.
[_Applies an asp._]
O, come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee.
FIRST GUARD.
Approach, ho! All’s not well. Caesar’s beguiled.
SECOND GUARD.
There’s Dolabella sent from Caesar. Call him.
FIRST GUARD.
What work is here, Charmian? Is this well done?
CHARMIAN.
It is well done, and fitting for a princess
Descended of so many royal kings.
Ah, soldier!
[_Charmian dies._]
Enter Dolabella.
DOLABELLA.
How goes it here?
SECOND GUARD.
All dead.
DOLABELLA.
Caesar, thy thoughts
Touch their effects in this. Thyself art coming
To see performed the dreaded act which thou
So sought’st to hinder.
Enter Caesar and all his train, marching.
ALL.
A way there, a way for Caesar!
DOLABELLA.
O sir, you are too sure an augurer:
That you did fear is done.
CAESAR.
Bravest at the last,
She levelled at our purposes and, being royal,
Took her own way. The manner of their deaths?
I do not see them bleed.
DOLABELLA.
Who was last with them?
FIRST GUARD.
A simple countryman that brought her figs.
This was his basket.
CAESAR.
Poisoned then.
FIRST GUARD.
O Caesar,
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 dropped.
CAESAR.
O noble weakness!
If they had swallowed poison ’twould appear
By external swelling; but she looks like sleep,
As she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil of grace.
DOLABELLA.
Here on her breast
There is a vent of blood, and something blown.
The like is on her arm.
FIRST GUARD.
This is an aspic’s trail, and these fig leaves
Have slime upon them, such as th’ aspic leaves
Upon the caves of Nile.
CAESAR.
Most probable
That so she died, for her physician tells me
She hath pursued 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.
[_Exeunt omnes._]