Part 42

Clow. Yes forsooth: I wish you ioy o'th' worm.

Exit

Cleo. 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 Caesar, 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

Char. Dissolue thicke clowd, & Raine, that I may say The Gods themselues do weepe

Cleo. 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 Caesar Asse, vnpolicied

Char. Oh Easterne Starre

Cleo. Peace, peace: Dost thou not see my Baby at my breast, That suckes the Nurse asleepe

Char. O breake! O breake! Cleo. As sweet as Balme, as soft as Ayre, as gentle. O Anthony! Nay I will take thee too. What should I stay-

Dyes.

Char. 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 Phoebus, neuer be beheld Of eyes againe so Royall: your Crownes away, Ile mend it, and then play- Enter the Guard rustling in; and Dolabella.

1.Guard. Where's the Queene? Char. Speake softly, wake her not

1 Caesar hath sent Char. Too slow a Messenger. Oh come apace, dispatch, I partly feele thee

1 Approach hoa, All's not well: Caesar's beguild

2 There's Dolabella sent from Caesar: call him

1 What worke is heere Charmian? Is this well done? Char. It is well done, and fitting for a Princesse Descended of so many Royall Kings. Ah Souldier.

Charmian dyes.

Enter Dolabella.

Dol. How goes it heere? 2.Guard. All dead

Dol. Caesar, 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 Caesar and all his Traine, marching.

All. A way there, a way for Caesar

Dol. Oh sir, you are too sure an Augurer: That you did feare, is done

Caesar. 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

Dol. Who was last with them? 1.Guard. A simple Countryman, that broght hir Figs: This was his Basket

Caesar. Poyson'd then

1.Guard. Oh Caesar: 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

Caesar. 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

Dol. Heere on her brest, There is a vent of Bloud, and something blowne, The like is on her Arme

1.Guard. This is an Aspickes traile, And these Figge-leaues haue slime vpon them, such As th' Aspicke leaues vpon the Caues of Nyle