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 :
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.

290

[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.

Char. Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain, that I may say
The gods themselves do weep!

Cleo.

This proves me base.

301

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 Cæsar ass
Unpolicied!

Char.

Cleo.

Char.

O eastern star!

Peace, peace!

Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
That sucks the nurse asleep?

O, break! O, break! 310

Cleo. As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,

Ο Antony!-Nay, I will take thee too:

What should I stay

[Applying another asp to her arm.

Char. 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 Phœbus 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?
Char.

First Guard. Cæsar hath sent-
Char.

[Dies.

Speak softly, wake her not.

Too slow a messenger. 321 [Applies an asp.

O, come apace, dispatch: I partly feel thee. First Guard. Approach, ho! All's not well: Cæsar's

beguiled.

Sec. Guard. There's Dolabella sent from Cæsar; call him.

First 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!

[Dies.

Re-enter Dolabella.

Dol. How goes it here?
Sec. Guard.

Dol.

All dead.

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.

33°

[Within. ' A way there, a way for Cæsar!'

Re-enter Cesar and his train.

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

Cas.

Dol.

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.

Who was last with them?

First Guard. A simple countryman, that brought her figs:

Cas.

This was his basket.

First Guard.

Cas.

Poison'd then.

O Cæsar,

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.

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.

341

Dol.

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

Cas.

Upon the caves of Nile.

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

351

Strike those that make them; and their story is 360
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.

CLEOPATRA AND HER SON CÆSARION SACRIFICING TO THE GODS

Sculptured in the great Temple, at Dendera, upper Egypt