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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.

[Setting down his Basket.

Clown. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind.

Cleo. 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.

Cleo. Take thou no care; it shall be heeded.

Clown. Very good: give it nothing, I pray you, for it is not worth the feeding.

Cleo. Well,

get thee

gone; farewell.

Clown. Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy of the worm.

Enter IRAS, with Robe, &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:

[Goes to a Bed, or Sofa, which she ascends; her Women compose her on it: IRAS sets the Basket, which she has been holding upon her own Arm, by her.

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.
[Kissing them.

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.

IRAS falls.

Dost thou lie still?

If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world

It is not worth leave-taking.

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; applying it to her Breast.

With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate

Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool,

[Stirring it. Be angry, and despatch. O, couldst thou speak! That I might hear thee call great Cæsar, ass, Unpolicy'd!

Char. O eastern star!

Cleo. 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

Enter some of the Guard.

1 Guard. Where is the queen ?
Char. Speak softly, wake her not.


1 Guard. Cæsar hath sentChar. Too slow a messenger.

[Applying 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.

Ah, soldier!


Dol. How goes it here?

2 Guard. 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'st to hinder.

Enter CESAR and Train.

Dol. O, sir, you are too sure an augurer; That you did fear, is done.

Oct. Brav'st at the last:


She level'd at our purposes, and, being royal,
Took her own way.-The manner of their deaths?
I do not see them bleed.

Dol. Who was last with them?

1 Guard. A simple countryman, that brought her figs;

This was his basket.

Oct. Poisoned, then.

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 aspick's trail;

[Pointing to the Floor.

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And these fig-leaves have slimé upon them, such
As the aspick leaves upon the caves of Nile.
Oct. Most probable,

That so she dy'd: 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 bury'd 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.



71 1. AA A 30

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