X

Antony and Cleopatra by William Shakespeare, 1564-1616

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’ the posture of a whore.

IRAS O the good gods!

CLEOPATRA Nay, that’s certain.

IRAS I’ll never see ‘t; for, I am sure, my nails

Are stronger than mine eyes.

CLEOPATRA Why, that’s the way

To fool their preparation, and to conquer

Their most absurd intents.

Re-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.

Wherefore’s this noise?

Exit IRAS. A noise within

Enter a Guardsman

Guard 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.

Re-enter Guardsman, with Clown bringing in a basket

Guard 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 Rememberest 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.

CLEOPATRA Get thee hence; farewell.

Clown I wish you all joy of the worm.

Setting down his 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 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’ the worm.

Exit

Re-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 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

First Guard Where is 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!

Dies

Re-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 perform’d the dreaded act which thou

So sought’st to hinder.

Within ‘A way there, a way for Caesar!’

Re-enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR and all his train marching

DOLABELLA O sir, you are too sure an augurer;

That you did fear is done.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR 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.

DOLABELLA Who was last with them?

First Guard A simple countryman, that brought her figs:

This was his basket.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR Poison’d, 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 dropp’d.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR 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.

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 the aspic leaves

Upon the caves of Nile.

OCTAVIUS 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

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