[Actus Quintus. Scene I.]
Enter Cæſar, Agrippa, Dollabella, Menas, with
his Counſell of Warre.
Go to him Dollabella, bid him yeeld.
Being ſo fruſtrate, tell him,
He mockes the pawſes that he makes.
Cæſar, I ſhall.
Enter Decretas with the ſword of Anthony.
Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar'ſt
Appeare thus to vs?
I am call'd Decretas,
Marke Anthony I ſeru'd, who beſt was worthie
Beſt to be ſeru'd: whil'ſt he ſtood vp, and ſpoke
He was my Maſter, and I wore my life
To ſpend vpon his haters. If thou pleaſe
To take me to thee, as I was to him,
Ile be to Cæſar: if yu pleaſeſt not, I yeild thee vp my life.
What is't thou ſay'ſt?
I ſay (Oh Cæſar) Anthony is dead.
The breaking of ſo great a thing, ſhould make
A greater cracke. The round World
Should haue ſhooke Lyons into ciuill ſtreets,
And Cittizens to their dennes. The death of Anthony
Is not a ſingle doome, in the name lay
A moity of the world.
He is dead Cæſar,
Not by a publike miniſter of Iuſtice,
Nor by a hyred Knife, but that ſelfe-hand
Which writ his Honor in the Acts it did,
Hath with the Courage which the heart did lend it,
Splitted the heart. This is his Sword,
I robb'd his wound of it: behold it ſtain'd
With his moſt Noble blood.
Looke you ſad Friends,
The Gods rebuke me, but it is Tydings
To waſh the eyes of Kings.
And ſtrange it is,
That Nature muſt compell vs to lament
Our moſt perſiſted deeds.
His taints and Honours, wag'd equal with him.
A Rarer ſpirit neuer
Did ſteere humanity: but you Gods will giue vs
Some faults to make vs men. Cæſar is touch'd.
When ſuch a ſpacious Mirror's ſet before him,
He needes muſt ſee him ſelfe.
I haue followed thee to this, but we do launch
Diſeaſes in our Bodies. I muſt perforce
Haue ſhewne to thee ſuch a declining day,
Or looke on thine: we could not ſtall together,
In the whole world. But yet let me lament
With teares as Soueraigne as the blood of hearts,
That thou my Brother, my Competitor,
In top of all deſigne; my Mate in Empire,
Friend and Companion in the front of Warre,
The Arme of mine owne Body, and the Heart
Where mine his thoughts did kindle; that our Starres
Vnreconciliable, ſhould diuide our equalneſſe to this.
Heare me good Friends,
But I will tell you at ſome meeter Seaſon,
The buſineſſe of this man lookes out of him,
Wee'l heare him what he ſayes.
Enter an Ægyptian.
Whence are you?
A poore Egyptian yet, the Queen my miſtris
Confin'd in all, ſhe has her Monument
Of thy intents, deſires, inſtruction,
That ſhe preparedly may frame her ſelfe
To'th'way ſhee's forc'd too.
Bid her haue good heart,
She ſoone ſhall know of vs, by ſome of ours,
How honourable, and how kindely Wee
Determine for her. For Cæſar cannot leaue to be vngentle
So the Gods preſerue thee. Exit.
Come hither Proculeius. Go and ſay
We purpoſe her no ſhame: giue her what comforts
The quality of her paſſion ſhall require;
Leaſt in her greatneſſe, by ſome mortall ſtroke
She do defeate vs. For her life in Rome,
Would be eternall in our Triumph: Go,
And with your ſpeedieſt bring vs what ſhe ſayes,
And how you finde of her.
Cæſar I ſhall. Exit Proculeius.
Gallus, go you along: where's Dolabella, to ſe-
Let him alone: for I remember now
How hee's imployd: he ſhall in time be ready.
Go with me to my Tent, where you ſhall ſee
How hardly I was drawne into this Warre,
How calme and gentle I proceeded ſtill
In all my Writings. Go with me, and ſee
What I can ſhew in this. Exeunt.
Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardian.
My deſolation does begin to make
A better life: Tis paltry to be Cæſar:
Not being Fortune, hee's but Fortunes knaue,
A miniſter of her will: and it is great
To do that thing that ends all other deeds,
Which ſhackles accedents, and bolts vp change;
Which ſleepes, and neuer pallates more the dung,
The beggers Nurſe, and Cæſars.
Cæſar ſends greeting to the Queene of Egypt,
And bids thee ſtudy on what faire demands
Thou mean'ſt to haue him grant thee.
What's thy name?
My name is Proculeius.
Did tell me of you, bad me truſt you, but
I do not greatly care to be deceiu'd
That haue no vſe for truſting. If your | Maſter
Would haue a Queece his begger, you muſt tell him,
That Maieſty to keepe decorum, muſt|
No leſſe begge then a Kingdome: If he pleaſe
To giue me conquer'd Egypt for my Sonne,
He giues me ſo much of mine owne, as I
Will kneele to him with thankes.
Be of good cheere:
Y'are falne into a Princely hand, feare nothing,
Make your full reference freely to my Lord,
Who is ſo full of Grace, that it flowes ouer
On all that neede. Let me report to him
Your ſweet dependacie, and you ſhall finde
A Conqueror that will pray in ayde for kindneſſe,
Where he for grace is kneel'd too.
Pray you tell him,
I am his Fortunes Vaſſall, and I ſend him
The Greatneſſe he has got. I hourely learne
A Doctrine of Obedience, and would gladly
Looke him i'th'Face.
This Ile report (deere Lady)
Haue comfort, for I know your plight is pitted
Of him that caus'd it.
You ſee how eaſily ſhe may be ſurpriz'd:
Guard her till Cæſar come.
Oh Cleopatra, thou art taken Queene.
Quicke, quicke, good hands.
Hold worthy Lady, hold:
Doe not your ſelfe ſuch wrong, who are in this
Releeu'd, but not betraid.
What of death too that rids our dogs of languiſh
Cleopatra, do not abuſe my Maſters bounty, by
Th'vndoing of your ſelfe: Let the World ſee
His Nobleneſſe well acted, which your death
Will neuer let come forth.
Where art thou Death?
Come hither come; Come, come, and take a Queene
Worth many Babes and Beggers.
Oh temperance Lady.
Sir, I will eate no meate, Ile not drinke ſir,
If idle talke will once be neceſſary
Ile not ſleepe neither. This mortall houſe Ile ruine,
Do Cæſar what he can. Know ſir, that I
Will not waite pinnion'd at your Maſters Court,
Nor once be chaſtic'd with the ſober eye
Of dull Octauia. Shall they hoyſt me vp,
And ſhew me to the ſhowting Varlotarie
Of cenſuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt.
Be gentle graue vnto me, rather on Nylus mudde
Lay me ſtarke-nak'd, and let the water-Flies
Blow me into abhorring; rather make
My Countries high pyramides my Gibbet,
And hang me vp in Chaines.
You do extend
Theſe thoughts of horror further then you ſhall
Finde cauſe in Cæſar.
What thou haſt done, thy Maſter Cæſar knowes,
And he hath ſent for thee: for the Queene,
Ile take her to my Guard.
It ſhall content me beſt: Be gentle to her,
To Cæſar I will ſpeake, what you ſhall pleaſe,
If you'l imploy me to him. Exit Proculeius
Say, I would dye.
Moſt Noble Empreſſe, you haue heard of me.
I cannot tell.
Aſſuredly you know me.
No matter ſir, what I haue heard or knowne:
You laugh when Boyes or Women tell their Dreames,
Is't not your tricke?
I vnderſtand not, Madam.
I dreampt there was an Emperor Anthony.
Oh ſuch another ſleepe, that I might ſee
But ſuch another man.
If it might pleaſe ye.
His face was as the Heau'ns, and therein ſtucke
A Sunne and Moone, which kept their courſe, & lighted
The little o'th'earth.
Moſt Soueraigne Creature.
His legges beſtrid the Ocean, his rear'd arme
Creſted the world: His voyce was propertied
As all the tuned Spheres, and that to Friends:
But when he meant to quaile, and ſhake the Orbe,
He was as ratling Thunder. For his Bounty,
There was no winter in't. An Anthony it was,
That grew the more by reaping: His delights
Were Dolphin-like, they ſhew'd his backe aboue
The Element they liu'd in: In his Liuery
Walk'd Crownes and Crownets: Realms & Iſlands were
As plates dropt from his pocket.
Thinke you there was, or might be ſuch a man
As this I dreampt of?
Gentle Madam, no.
You Lye vp to the hearing of the Gods:
But if there be, nor euer were one ſuch
It's paſt the ſize of dreaming: Nature wants ſtuffe
To vie ſtrange formes with fancie, yet t'imagine
An Anthony were Natures peece, 'gainſt Fancie,
Condemning ſhadowes quite.
Heare me, good Madam:
Your loſſe is as your ſelfe, great; and you beare it
As anſwering to the waight, would I might neuer
Ore-take purſu'de ſucceſſe: But I do feele
By the rebound of yours, a greefe that ſuites
My very heart at roote.
I thanke you ſir:
Know you what Cæſar meanes to do with me?
I am loath to tell you what, I would you knew.
Nay pray you ſir.
Though he be Honourable.
Hee'l leade me then in Triumph.
Madam he will, I know't. Flouriſh.
Enter Proculeius, Cæſar, Gallus, Mecenas,
and others of his Traine.
Make way there Cæſar.
Which is the Queene of Egypt.
It is the Emperor Madam. Cleo. kneeles.
Ariſe, you ſhall not kneele:
I pray you riſe, riſe Egypt.
Sir, the Gods will haue it thus,
My Maſter and my Lord I muſt obey,
Take to you no hard thoughts,
The Record of what iniuries you did vs,
Though written in our fleſh, we ſhall remember
As things but done by chance.
Sole Sir o'th'World,
I cannot pro ect mine owne cauſe ſo well
To make it cleare, but do confeſſe I haue
Bene laden with like frailties, which before
Haue often ſham'd our Sex.
We will extenuate rather then inforce:
If you apply your ſelfe to our intents,
Which towards you are moſt gentle, you ſhall finde
A benefit in this change: but if you ſeeke
To lay on me a Cruelty, by taking
Anthonies courſe, you ſhall bereaue your ſelfe
Of my good purpoſes, and put your children
To that deſtruction which Ile guard them from,
If thereon you relye. Ile take my leaue.
And may through all the world: tis yours, & we
your Scutcheons, and your ſignes of Conqueſt ſhall
Hang in what place you pleaſe. Here my good Lord.
You ſhall aduiſe me in all for Cleopatra.
This is the breefe: of Money, Plate, & Iewels
I am poſſeſt of, 'tis exactly valewed,
Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus?
This is my Treaſurer, let him ſpeake (my Lord)
Vpon his perill, that I haue reſeru'd
To my ſelfe nothing. Speake the truth Seleucus.
Madam, I had rather ſeele my lippes,
Then to my perill ſpeake that which is not.
What haue I kept backe.
Enough to purchaſe what you haue made known
Nay bluſh not Cleopatra, I approue
Your Wiſedome in the deede.
See Cæſar: Oh behold,
How pompe is followed: Mine will now be yours,
And ſhould we ſhift eſtates, yours would be mine.
The ingratitude of this Seleucus, does
Euen make me wilde. Oh Slaue, of no more truſt
Then loue that's hyr'd? What goeſt thou backe, yu ſhalt
Go backe I warrant thee: but Ile catch thine eyes
Though they had wings. Slaue, Soule-leſſe, Villain, Dog.
O rarely baſe!
Good Queene, let vs intreat you.
O Cæſar, what a wounding ſhame is this,
That thou vouchſafing heere to viſit me,
Doing the Honour of thy Lordlineſſe
To one ſo meeke, that mine owne Seruant ſhould
Parcell the ſumme of my diſgraces, by
Addition of his Enuy. Say (good Cæſar）
That I ſome Lady trifles haue reſeru'd,
Immoment toyes, things of ſuch Dignitie
As we greet moderne Friends withall, and ſay
Some Nobler token I haue kept apart
For Liuia and Octauia, to induce
Their mediation, muſt I be vnfolded
With one that I haue bred: The Gods! it ſmites me
Beneath the fall I haue. Prythee go hence,
Or I ſhall ſhew the Cynders of my ſpirits
Through th'Aſhes of my chance: Wer't thou a man,
Thou would'ſt haue mercy on me.
Be it known, that we the greateſt are miſ-thoght
For things that others do: and when we fall,
We anſwer others merits, in our name
Are therefore to be pittied.
Not what you haue reſeru'd, nor what acknowledg'd
Put we i'th'Roll of Conqueſt: ſtill bee't yours,
Beſtow it at your pleaſure, and beleeue
Cæſars no Merchant, to make prize with you
Of things that Merchants ſold. Therefore be cheer'd,
Make not your thoughts your priſons: No deere Queen,
For we intend ſo to diſpoſe you, as
Your ſelfe ſhall giue vs counſell: Feede, and ſleepe:
Our care and pitty is ſo much vpon you,
That we remaine your Friend, and ſo adieu.
My Maſter, and my Lord.
Not ſo: Adieu. Flouriſh.
Exeunt Cæſar, and his Traine.
He words me Gyrles, he words me,
That I ſhould not be Noble to my ſelfe.
But hearke thee Charmian.
Finiſh good Lady, the bright day is done,
And we are for the darke.
Hye thee againe,
I haue ſpoke already, and it is prouided,
Go put it to the haſte.
Madam, I will.
Where's the Queene?
Madam, as thereto ſworne, by your command
(Which my loue makes Religion to obey)
I tell you this: Cæſar through Syria
Intends his iourney, and within three dayes,
You with your Children will he ſend before,
Make your beſt vſe of this. I haue perform'd
Your pleaſure, and my promiſe.
Dolabella, I ſhall remaine your debter.
I your Seruant:
Adieu good Queene, I muſt attend on Cæſar. Exit
Farewell, and thankes.
Now Iras, what think'ſt thou?
Thou, an Egyptian Puppet ſhall be ſhewne
In Rome aſwell as I: Mechanicke Slaues
With greazie Aprons, Rules, and Hammers ſhall
Vplift vs to the view. In their thicke breathes,
Ranke of groſſe dyet, ſhall we be enclowded,
And forc'd to drinke their vapour.
The Gods forbid.
Nay, 'tis moſt certaine Iras: ſawcie Lictors
Will catch at vs like Strumpets, and ſcald Rimers
Ballads vs out a Tune. The quicke Comedians
Extemporally will ſtage vs, and preſent
Our Alexandrian Reuels: Anthony
Shall be brought drunken forth, and I ſhall ſee
Some ſqueaking Cleopatra Boy my greatneſſe
I'th'poſture of a Whore.
O the good Gods!
Nay that's certaine.
Ile neuer ſee't? for I am ſure mine Nailes
Are ſtronger then mine eyes.
Why that's the way to foole their preparation,
And to conquer their moſt abſurd intents.
Shew me my Women like a Queene: Go fetch
My beſt Attyres. I am againe for Cidrus,
To meete Marke Anthony. Sirra Iras, go
(Now Noble Charmian, wee'l diſpatch indeede,)
And when thou haſt done this chare, Ile giue thee leaue
To play till Doomeſday: bring our Crowne, and all.
A noiſe within.
Wherefore's this noiſe?
Enter a Guardſman.
Heere is a rurall Fellow,
That will not be deny'de your Highneſſe preſence,
He brings you Figges.
Let him come in. Exit Guardſman.
What poore an Inſtrument
May do a Noble deede: he brings me liberty:
My Reſolution's plac'd, and I haue nothing
Of woman in me: Now from head to foote
I am Marble conſtant: now the fleeting Moone
No Planet is of mine.
Enter Guardſman, and Clowne.
This is the man.
Auoid, and leaue him. Exit Guardſman.
Haſt thou the pretty worme of Nylus there,
That killes and paines not?
Truly I haue him: but I would not be the par-
tie that ſhould deſire you to touch him, for his byting is
immortall: thoſe that doe dye of it, doe ſeldome or ne-
Remember'ſt thou any that haue dyed on't?
Very many, men and women too. I heard of
one of them no longer then yeſterday, a very honeſt wo-
man, but ſomething giuen to lye, as a woman ſhould not
do, but in the way of honeſty, how ſhe dyed of the by-
ting of it, what paine ſhe felt: Truely, ſhe makes a verie
good report o'th'worme: but he that wil beleeue all that
they ſay, ſhall neuer be ſaued by halfe that they do: but
this is moſt falliable, the Worme's an odde Worme.
Get thee hence, farewell.
I wiſh you all ioy of the Worme.
You muſt thinke this (looke you,) that the
Worme will do his kinde.
I, I, farewell.
Looke you, the Worme is not to bee truſted,
but in the keeping of wiſe people: for indeede, there is
no goodneſſe in the Worme.
Take thou no care, it ſhall be heeded.
Very good: giue it nothing I pray you, for it
is not worth the feeding.
Will it eate me?
You muſt not think I am ſo ſimple, but I know
the diuell himſelfe will not eate a woman: I know, that
a woman is a diſh for the Gods, if the diuell dreſſe her
not. But truly, theſe ſame whorſon diuels doe the Gods
great harme in their women: for in euery tenne that they
make, the diuels marre fiue.
Well, get thee gone, farewell.
Yes forſooth: I wiſh you ioy o'th'worm. Exit
Giue me my Robe, put on my Crowne, I haue
Immortall longings in me. Now no more
The iuyce of Egypts Grape ſhall moyſt this lip.
Yare, yare, good Iras; quicke: Me thinkes I heare
Anthony call: I ſee him rowſe himſelfe
To praiſe my Noble Act. I heare him mock
The lucke of Cæſar, which the Gods giue men
To excuſe their after wrath. Husband, I come:
Now to that name, my Courage proue my Title.
I am Fire, and Ayre; my other Elements
I giue to baſer life. So, haue you done?
Come then, and take the laſt warmth of my Lippes.
Farewell kinde Charmian, Iras, long farewell.
Haue I the Aſpicke in my lippes? Doſt fall?
If thou, and Nature can ſo gently part,
The ſtroke of death is as a Louers pinch,
Which hurts, and is deſir'd. Doſt thou lye ſtill?
If thus thou vaniſheſt, thou tell'ſt the world,
It is not worth leaue-taking.
Diſſolue thicke clowd, & Raine, that I may ſay
The Gods themſelues do weepe.
This proues me baſe:
If ſhe firſt meete the Curled Anthony,
Hee'l make demand of her, and ſpend that kiſſe
Which is my heauen to haue. Come thou mortal wretch,
With thy ſharpe teeth this knot intrinſicate,
Of life at once vntye: Poore venomous Foole,
Be angry, and diſpatch. Oh could'ſt thou ſpeake,
That I might heare thee call great Cæſar Aſſe, vnpolicied.
Oh Eaſterne Starre.
Doſt thou not ſee my Baby at my breaſt,
That ſuckes the Nurſe aſleepe.
O breake! O breake!
As ſweet as Balme, as ſoft as Ayre, as gentle.
O Anthony! Nay I will take thee too.
What ſhould I ſtay————— Dyes.
In this wilde World? So fare thee well:
Now boaſt thee Death, in thy poſſeſſion lyes
A Laſſe vnparalell'd. Downie Windowes cloze,
And golden Phœbus, neuer be beheld
Of eyes againe ſo Royall: your Crownes away,
Ile mend it, and then play————
Enter the Guard ruſtling in, and Dolabella.
Where's the Queene?
Speake ſoftly, wake her not.
1 Cæſar hath ſent
Too ſlow a Meſſenger.
Oh come apace, diſpatch, I partly feele thee.
1 Approach hoa,
All's not well: Cæſar's beguild.
2 There's Dolabella ſent from Cæſar: call him.
1 What worke is heere Charmian?
Is this well done?
It is well done, and fitting for a Princeſſe
Deſcended of ſo many Royall Kings.
Ah Souldier. Charmian dyes.
How goes it heere?
Cæſar, thy thoughts
Touch their effects in this: Thy ſelfe art comming
To ſee perform'd the dreaded Act which thou
So ſought'ſt to hinder.
Enter Cæſar and all his Traine, marching.
A way there, a way for Cæſar.
Oh ſir, you are too ſure an Augurer:
That you did feare, is done.
Braueſt at the laſt,
She leuell'd at our purpoſes, and being Royall
Tooke her owne way: the manner of their deaths,
I do not ſee them bleede.
Who was laſt with them?
A ſimple Countryman, that broght hir Figs:
This was his Basket.
This Charmian liu'd but now, ſhe ſtood and ſpake:
I found her trimming vp the Diadem;
On her dead Miſtris tremblingly ſhe ſtood,
And on the ſodaine dropt.
Oh Noble weakeneſſe:
If they had ſwallow'd poyſon, 'twould appeare
By externall ſwelling: but ſhe lookes like ſleepe,
As ſhe would catch another Anthony
In her ſtrong toyle of Grace.
Heere on her breſt,
There is a vent of Bloud, and ſomething blowne,
The like is on her Arme.
This is an Aſpickes traile,
And theſe Figge-leaues haue ſlime vpon them, ſuch
As th'Aſpicke leaues vpon the Caues of Nyle.
That ſo ſhe dyed: for her Phyſitian tels mee
She hath purſu'de Concluſions infinite
Of eaſie wayes to dye. Take vp her bed,
And beare her Women from the Monument,
She ſhall be buried by her Anthony.
No Graue vpon the earth ſhall clip in it
A payre ſo famous: high euents as theſe
Strike thoſe that make them: and their Story is
No leſſe in pitty, then his Glory which
Brought them to be lamented. Our Army ſhall
In ſolemne ſhew, attend this Funerall,
And then to Rome. Come Dolabella, ſee
High Order, in this great Solmemnity. Exeunt omnes