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And forc'd to drink their vapour. |
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' th' posture of a whore. |
IRAS. O the good gods! |
CLEOPATRA. Nay, that's certain. |
IRAS. I'll never see't, for I am sure mine nails |
Are stronger than mine eyes. |
CLEOPATRA. Why, that's the way |
To fool their preparation and to conquer |
Their most absurd intents. |
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. |
Exit IRAS. A noise within |
Wherefore's this noise? |
Enter a GUARDSMAN |
GUARDSMAN. 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 plac'd, 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 and CLOWN, with a basket |
GUARDSMAN. 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. Remember'st 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' th' worm. But he that will believe all that |
they say shall never be saved by half that they do. But this is |
most falliable, the worm's an odd worm. |
CLEOPATRA. Get thee hence; farewell. |
CLOWN. I wish you all joy of the worm. |
[Sets down the 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 the 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' th' 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 thus thou and nature can so gently part, |
The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, |
Which hurts and is desir'd. Dost thou lie still? |
If 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 |
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