It's past the size of dreaming; nature wants stuff To vie strange forms with fancy; yet to imagine An Antony were nature's piece 'gainst fancy, Condemning shadows quite. Dol. Hear me, good madam. 100 Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it As answering to the weight: would I might never O'ertake pursu'd success, but I do feel, By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites My very heart at root. Cleo. Cleo. Nay, pray you, sir,- Though he be honourable,- Make way there!-Cæsar! 110 Enter CESAR, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, MECÆ- Caes. Which is the Queen of Egypt? The ingratitude of this Seleucus does Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes Though they had wings: slave, soulless villain, dog! O rarely base! 160 To one so meek, that mine own servant should Parcel the sum of my disgraces by Addition of his envy. Say, good Cæsar, That I some lady trifles have reserv'd, Immoment toys, things of such dignity As we greet modern friends withal; and say, CLEOPATRA kneels. 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 Caes. Arise, you shall not kneel: I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt. Cleo. Sir, the gods Will have it thus; my master and my lord I must obey. Cæs. 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. 120 Cleo. Sole sir o' the 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 sham'd our sex. We will extenuate rather than enforce : A benefit in this change; but if you seek Cleo. 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. Cæs. You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra. Cleo. This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels, I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued; Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus? Sel. Here, madam. 140 smites me 170 misthought For things that others do; and, when we fall, Not what you have reserv'd, nor what acknowledg'd, Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be 't yours, Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe, 181 Cæsar's no merchant, to make prize with you Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd; Make not your thoughts your prisons: no, dear queen; For we intend so to dispose you as 190 Be noble to myself: but hark thee, Charmian. Whispers CHARMIAN. Iras. Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are for the dark. Cleo. I have spoke already, and Go, put it to the haste. Char. Hie thee again : it is provided; Madam. I will. I your servant. Dol. Will catch at us, like strumpets, and scald rimers Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see O the good gods! 220 Cleo. Why, that's the way To fool their preparation, and to conquer Their most absurd intents. Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there, 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. Cleo. 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. Re-enter IRAS with a robe, crown, etc. Cleo. Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have 292 Immortal longings in me; now no more Char. Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say, 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 | To see perform'd the dreaded act which thou To the asp, which she applies to her breast. 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. Char. In this wide world? So, fare thee well. Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry ; Enter the Guard, rushing in. First Guard. Where is the queen? 320 A way there!-A way for Cæsar! Bravest at the last, Who was last with them? First Guard. A simple countryman that brought her figs : This was his basket. Cæs. First Guard. 841 Poison'd then. O Cæsar! This Charmian liv'd but now; she stood and I found her trimming up the diadem Cæs. In her strong toil of grace. Here, on her breast, Speak softly; wake her not. There is a vent of blood, and something blown; First Guard. Cæsar hath sentThe like is on her arm. Char. Too slow a messenger. Applies an asp. Second Guard. There's Dolabella sent from First Guard. What work is here! Charmian, Char. It is well done, and fitting for a princess Dies. 330 Cæsar, thy thoughts Touch their effects in this; thyself art coming 352 First Guard. This is an aspic's trail; and these Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves Cæs. Most probable 360 That so she died; for her physician tells me Exeunt. Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, a Soothsayer, a Dutch Gentleman, a Spanish Gentleman, Musicians, Officers, Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants. Apparitions. SCENE.-Sometimes in Britain, sometimes in Italy. ACT I. And therefore banish'd, is a creature such SCENE I.-Britain. The Garden of CYMBELINE'S For one his like, there would be something fail Palace. Enter two Gentlemen. ing In him that should compare. I do not think First Gent. You do not meet a man but frowns; Endows a man but he. No more obey the heavens than our courtiers He purpos'd to his wife's sole son, a widow wedded, She's Second Gent. Second Gent. What's his name and birth! First Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: his father Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrow 41 Breeds him and makes him of his bedchamber, Post. If after this command thou fraught the court O disloyal thing, 131 I am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare Subdues all pangs, all fears. Cym. Past grace? obedience? Imo. Past hope, and in despair; that way, past grace. Cym. That might'st have had the sole son of my queen! Imo. O bless'd, that I might not! I chose an eagle And did avoid a puttock. 140 Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; would'st have made my throne A seat for baseness. |