The Tragedy of Cleopatra

Certain Small Works heretofore divulged by Samuel Daniel one of the grooms of the Queen’s majesty’s privy chamber, and now again by him corrected and augmented.

Aetas prima canat veneres postrema tumultus 

At London. Printed by I.W. for Simon Waterson, 1607.

To the Reader

Behold once more with serious labour here

Have I refurnisht out this little frame,

Repair’d some parts effective here and there,

And passages new added to the same, 

Some rooms inlarg’d, made some less than they were

Like to the curious builder who this year

Plus down, and alters what he did the last

As if the thing in doing were more dear

Then being done, and nothing likes that’s past .

  For that we ever make the latter day

The scholler  of the former, and we find

Something is still amiss that must delay

Our business and leave work for us behind

As if there were no sabbath of the mind

And howsoever be it well or ill

What I have done, it is mine own I may

Do whatsoever therewithal, I will.

  I may pull down, raise, and reedify

It is the building of my life the sea

Of Nature, all th’ inheritance that I

Shal leave to those which must come after me

And all the care I have is but to see

These lodgings of m’ affections nearly drest 

Wherein so many noble friends there be

Whose memories with mine must therein rest

And glad I am that I have liv’d to see

This edifice renew’d, who do but long

To live t’ amend. For man is a tree

That hath his fruit late ripe, and it is long

Before he come t’ his taste, there doth belong

So much t’ experience, and so infinite

The faces of things are, as hardly we

Discern which looks the likest unto right.

 Besides these curious times stuff’d with the store

Of compositions in this kind, do drive  

Me to examine my defects the more,

And oft would make me not myself believe

Did I not know the world wherein I live,

Which neither is so wise, as that would seem

Nor certain judgement of those things doth give

That in dislikes, nor that it doth esteem.

  I know no work from man yet ever came

But had his mark, and by some error show’d

That it was his, and yet what in the same

Was rare, an worthy, evermore allow’d

Safe convoy for the rest: the good that’s sow’d

Though rarely pays our cost, and who so looks

T’ have all things in perfection, and in frame

In men’s inventions, never must-read books.

  And howsoever here detraction may

Disvalue this my labour, yet I know

There will be found therein, that which will pay

The reck’ning for the errors which I owe

And likewise will sufficiently allow

T’an undistasted judgment fit delight

And let presumptuous self-opinion say

The worst it can, I know I shall have right

  I know I shall be read, among the rest

So long as men speak English, and so long

As verse and virtue shall be in request

Or grace to honest industry belong:

And England since I use thy present tongue

Thy form of speech thou must be my defence

If to new ears, it seems not well exprest

For though I hold not accent I hold sense

  And since the measures of our tongue we see

Confirm’d by no edict of power doth rest

But only underneath the regency

Of use and fashion, which may be the best

Is not for my poor forces to contest

But as the Peacock, seeing himself to weak

Confest the Eagle fairer far to be

And yet not in his feathers but his beak.

Authority of powerful censure may

Prejudicate the form wherein we mould

This matter of our spirit, but if it pay

The care with substance, we have what we would

For that is all which must our credit hold.

The rest (however gay, or seeming rich

It be in fashion, wise men will not weigh)

The stamp will not allow it, but the touch.

 And would to God that nothing faulty were

But only that poor accent in my verse

Or that I could all other reck’nings clear

Wherewith my heart stands charg’d, or might revers

The errors of my judgment passed here

Or els’ where, in my books, and unrehearse

What I have vainly said, or have addrest

Unto neglect mistaken in the rest.

 Which I do hope to live yet to retract

And crave that England never will take note

That it was mine. I’ll disavow mine act,

And wish it may for ever be forgot,

I trust the world will not of me exact

Against my will, that hath all els’, I wrote

I will ask nothing therein for my pain

But only to have in mine own again.

The Tragedy of Cleopatra

Ætas prima canat veneres postrema tumultus.

To the Most Noble Lady the Lady Mary Countess of Pembrooke

Behold the work which once thou didst impose

Great sister of the Muses glorious star

Of female worth, who didst at first disclose

Unto our times, what noble powers there are

In women’s harts, and sent example far

To call up others to like studious thoughts

And me at first from out my low repose

Didst raise to sing of state and tragic notes

  Whilst I contented with a humble song

Made musique to myself that pleas’d me best

And only told of Delia and her wrong

And prais’d her eyes, and plain’d mine own unrest

A text from whence Muse had not digresst

Had I not seen thy well grac’d Anthony

Adorn’d by thy sweet stile in our faire tongue

T’ expect his Cleopatra’s company.

And that those  notions which at first in me

The, then delicious Wilton did impress

That arbour of the Muses grac’d by thee

And which did likewise grace thy worthiness

Were grown to apprehend how th’ images

Of action and of greatness figured were

Made me attempt t’attire her misery

In th’ habit I conceiv’d became her care

Which if to her it be not fitted right

Yet in the suit of nature sure it is

And is the language that affliction might

Perhaps deliver when it spake distress

And as it was I did the same address

To thy clear understanding and therein

Thy noble name, as in her proper right

Continued ever since that time hath been

And so must likewise still, now it is cast

Into this shape that I have given thereto

Which now must stand, being like to be the last

That I shall ever herein have to doo.

And glad I am I have renew’d to you

The vows I owe your worth, although thereby

There can no glory unto you accrue

Who consecrate your proper memory.

Those holy Hymns the melody of heaven

Which Israel’s singer to his God did frame

Unto thy voice eternal fame hath given

And shews thee deer to him from whence they came

In them shall rest thy ever-reverent name

So long as Syon ’s God remaineth honoured

And till confusion hath all zeal bereaven

And murthered faith and temples ruined

By them great Lady you shall then be known

When Wilton may lie level with the ground

And this is that which you may call your own

Which sacrilegious Time cannot confound:

Here you survive yourself, here are you found

Of late succeeding ages fresh in fame,

This monument cannot be overthrown,

Where in eternal brass remains your name.

O that the Ocean did not bound our stile

Within these strict and narrow limits, so,

But that the musique of our well tun’d Ile

Might hence be heard to Mintium  arm and Po,

That they might know, how far Thames doth out go

Declined Tiber, and might not contemn.

Our Northern tunes, but now another while

Receive from vs, more then we had from them

   Or why may not some after coming hand

Unlock these limits, open our confines,

And break a sunder this imprisoning band

T’ enlarge our spirits, and let out our designs

Planting our roses on the Apennines,

And to Iberus , Loyce  and Arve  to teach

That we part glory with their, and our land

Being match for worth, comes not behind in speech

 Let them produce the best of all they may

Since Roome left bearing, who bare more than men

And we shall parallel them every way

In all the glorious actions of the pen.

Our Phœbus is the same that theirs hath been,

How ever ignorance, phantastic grown

Rates them above the value that they pay,

And likes strange notes, and disesteems our own

 They cannot shew a Sidney let they shew

All their choice pieces, and bring all in one

And altogether shall not make that shew

Of wonder and delight, as he hath done:

He hath th’ Olympian prize (of all that run

Or ever shall with mortal powers) possest

In that faire course of glory and yet now

Sydney is not our all, although our best.

That influence had Eliza’s blessed peace

Peculiar to her glory as it spread

That sacred flame of many, and th’ increase

Did grace the season, and her honoured.

And if the same come now extinguished

By the distemp’rature of time, and cease

Suffice we were not yet behind the rest,

But had our part of glory with the best.

The Tragedy of Cleopatra.

To the Lady Marie Countess of Pembrooke.

AEtas prima canat veneres postrema tumultus.

London Printed by I.W. for Simon Waterson. 1607.

The Argument.

After the death of Antonius, Cleopatra (living still in the Monument she had caused to be built) could not by any meanes be drawn forth, although Octavius Caesar very earnestly laboured it, and sent Proculeius, to use all diligence to bring her unto him: for that he thought it would be a great ornament to his Triumphs, to get her alive to Rome. But never would she put herself into the hands of Proculeius, although on a time he found the meanes, (by a window that was at the top of the Monument,) to come down unto her. where he persuaded her (all he might) to yield herself to Caesars mercy. Which she (to be rid of him) cunningly seemed to grant unto. After that, Octavius in person went to visit her, to whom she excused her offence, laying all the fault upon the greatness, and fear she had of Antonius, and withal seemed very tractable, and willing to be disposed of by him.

    Whereupon, Octavius, thinking himself sure) resolved presently to send her away to Rome whereof Dolabella, a favourite of Caesar’s (and one that was grown into some good liking of her) having certified her, she makes her humble petition to Caesar that he would suffer her to sacrifice to the ghost of Antonius, which being granted her, she was brought unto his sepulchre, where, after her rites performed she returned to the monument , and there dined with great magnificence. And in dinner time, came there one in the habit of a countryman, with a basket of figs unto her, who (unsuspected) was suffered to carry them in: and in that basket (among the figs) were conveyed the aspics wherewith she did herself to death. Dinner being ended, she dispatched Letters to Caesar, containing great lamentations with an earnest supplication, that she might be intombed with Antonius. Whereupon Caesar knowing what she intended, sent presently with all speed, Messengers to have prevented her death, which notwithstanding, before they came, was dispatched, Caesario her son, which she had by Julius Caesar (conveyed before unto India, out of the danger of the wars) was about the same time of her death murthered at Rhodes: trained thither by the falsehood of his tutor, corrupted by Caesar. And so hereby came the race of the Ptolomies to be wholly extinct, and the flourishing rich kingdom of Egypt utterly overthrown and subdued.    

The names of the Actors.

Cleopatra.        

Oct. Caesar.      

Caesario         

Dolabella.        

Proculeius.       

Arius.         

Philostratus.

Seleucus.

Rodon.

Dircetus,

Diomedes

Charmion,

Eras.

[1]

[1.1]

Cleopatra. Caesario. Rodon.

Come Rodon, here , convey from out this coast,

This precious gem, the chiefest I have left,

The jewel of my soul I value most,

My dear Casario: save him, save my theft ,

5Guide him to India, lead him far from hence,

Conceal him where secure he may remain,

Till better fortune call him back from thence,

And Egypt’s peace be reconcil’d again.

For this is he that may our hopes bring back,

10The rising sun of our declining state,

These be the hands that may restore our wrack,

And raise the shattered ruins made of late.

He may give limits to the boundless pride

Of fierce Octavius, and abate his might,

15Great Julius’ offspring , he may come to guide

The empire of the world, as his by right. 

RODON 

No doubt he may, dear sovereign, when the rage

Of this confused storm is overpast,     

That furiously now beats upon this age,

20And, may be, is too violent at last.

And Caesar’s fortune which now seems to grow

Into th’ ascendent of felicity

And makes the round and full of glory now,

May come to wane, likes others wretchedness:

25No tyrant can prescribe to injury:

Kings’ rights may oft be sick, but never die.

CLEOPATRA 

Rodon, myself those turns of chance have seen

And known both sides of fortune, worst and best

And therefore he, whose birth, whose sex hath been

30Worthier than mine, why should not he reblest

Turn back to rule the sceptre of this land?

Which ah, how well it would become this hand!

Oh how he seems the model of his sire!

Now doe I gaze my Caesar in his face!

35Such was his gate, so did his looks aspire,

Such was his threatening brow, such was his grace.

His shoulder, and his forehead even as high, 

And had he not, ay me, been borne so late, 

He might have rul’d the world’s wide  monarchy,

40And now have been the champion of our state .

But “oh dear son, the time yields no delays,  

“Son of my youth, fly hence, oh fly, be gone!

Reserve thy self, ordain’d for better days,

For much thou hast to ground thy hopes upon,

45Leave me (thy woeful mother) to endure,

The fury of this tempest here alone,

Who cares not for herself, so thou be sure,

Thou may’st revenge, when others can but moan.

Rodon will see thee safe, Rodon will guide 

50Thee in the way,   thou shalt not need to fear.

Rodon (my faithful servant) will provide

What shall be best for thee, take thou no care.

And oh good Rodon, look well to his youth,

The ways are long, and dangers everywhere.

55I urge it not that I doe doubt thy truth, 

But mothers cast the worst, and always fear.  

The absent danger greater still appears,

Less fears he, who is near the thing he fears. 

RODON. 

Madame, nor can, nor have I other gage,

60To lay for this assurance of my troth,

But th’earnest of that faith, which all my age

Your grace hath tri’d and which again by oath

Unto the care of this sweet prince I vow,

Whose safety I will tender with more heed

65Then mine own life. For consider how

The life of Egypt stands on his good speed

And doubt not madame Caesar left us hath

The postern gate of Nylus free, to fly,

And India lies beyond the bounds of wrath,

70And owes no homage to his empery .

And there we shall find welcome, there remain

Safe, till good fortune bring us back again.

CLEOPATRA

But ah,  I know not what presaging thought

My spirit suggests of ominous event,

75And yet perhaps my love doth make me dote 

On idle shadows which my fears present.

But yet the memory of mine own fate,

Makes me fear his. And yet why should I fear?

His fortune may in time regain his state,  

80And he with greater glory govern here.  

But yet I fear  the genius of our race

By some more powerful  spirit comes overthrown,

Our blood must be extinct, in my disgrace,

And Egypt have  no more kings of their own.

85Then let him stay, and let us fall together,

If it be  fore-decreed that we must fall.

Yet who knows what may come? Let him go thither,

What merchant in one vessel venters all?

Let us divide our stars. Goe, goe my son,

90Let not the fate of Egypt find you  here.

Try if so be thy destiny can shun

The common wrack of us, by being there.

But who is he found ever yet defence

Against the heavens, or hide him anywhere?

95Then what need I to send thee so far hence

To seek thy death that may’st as well die here?

And here die with thy mother, die in rest,

Not travailing to what will come to thee.

Why should we leave our blood unto the East,

100When Egypt may a Tomb sufficient be?

O my divided soul, what shall I doe?

Whereon shall now my resolution rest?

What were I best resolve to yield unto

When both are bad, how shall I know the best?

105Stay; I may hap so work with Caesar now,

That he may yield him to restore thy right.

Goe; Caesar never will consent that thou

So near in blood, shalt bee so great in might.

Then take him Rodon, goe my son, farewell.

110But stay: there’s something I would gladly say:  

Yet nothing now, but oh God speed you  well,

Lest saying more, that more might make thee stay. 

Yet let me speak, perhaps it is the last 

That ever I shall speak to thee my son.

115Doe mothers use to part in such post-haste?

What, must I end when I have scarce begun?

Ah no (dear heart) ‘t is no such slender twine

Where-with the knot is tied twixt me and thee :

That blood within thy veins came out of mine,

120Parting from thee, I part from part of me

And therefore, I must speak. Yet what? O son.

Though I have made an end, I have done” .

CESARIO   

Dear sovereign mother, suffer not your care

To tumult thus with th’ honour of your state,

125These miseries of ours no strangers are,

Nor is it new to be unfortunate.

And this good, let your many sorrows past

Work on your heart t’ enharden it at last.

Look but on all the neighbour states beside

130Of Europe, Afrique, Asia, and but note

What kings, what states hath not the Romane pride

Ransackt, confounded, or else servile brought?

And since we are so borne that by our fate

Against the storms we cannot now bear sail,

135And that the boisterous current of their state

Will bear down all our fortunes, and prevail.

Let us yet temper with the time and think

The winds may change, and all these states opprest,

Colleagu’d in one, may turn again to sink

140Their greatness, who now holds them all distresst.

And I may lead their troupes, and at the walls

Of greedy Rome, revenge the wronged blood

Of th’ innocent, which now for vengeance calls,

And doe th’ enthralled provinces this good.

145And therefore, my dear mother doe not leave

To hope the best! I doubt not my return.

I shall doe well, let nor your grief bereave

Your eyes of seeing those comforts when they turn.

CLEOPATRA 

Well, worthy son, and worthily the son

150Of such a father . And in this thou showest

From whence thou camest, I say no more, be gone,

Grow in thy virtue, as in years thou growst.

Exeunt.

Cleopatra sola.

Poor comforts can they give, whom our distress

Makes miserable, and like comfortless.

155Alas, such forced cheering from our own

Upon our griefs doe more affliction lay

To think that by our means they are undone

On whom we sought our glory to convey.

Well then, here is a sad day’s work begun:

160For first, between these arms, my Antony

Expir’d this day, and whilst I did uphold

His struggling limbs in his last ecstasy,

The yet unclosed wound, which his own sword

Had made before, burst out, imbru’d my womb,

165And here with these faire colours of my Lord,

Which now I wear, I come from out a tomb,

To send away this dearest part of me

Unto distress, and now whilst time I have,

I got t’ inter my spouse. So shall I see

170My son dispatcht for death, my love t’ his grave.

Exit.

[1.2] 

Octavius. Dircetus. Gallus. Proculeius.

[OCTAVIUS]

What news brings now Dircetus from our foe?

Will Antony yet struggle being undone?

DIRCETUS

No, Caesar he will never vex thee more,

His work is ended, Antony hath done.

5Here is the sword that hath cut off the knot

Of his entangled fortunes, and hath freed

His grieved life from his dishonour’d blot.

OCTAVIUS

Who is the man that did effect this deed?

DIRCETUS

His own hand and this sword hath done the deed.

OCTAVIUS

10Relate Dirceus of the manner how.   

DIRCETUS

My Lord when Antony had made this last

And desperate trial of his fortunes, and

With all the forces which he had amasst

From out each coast and corner of the land

15Had brought them to their work, perceiving how

His ships instead of blows shook hands with yours

And that his powers by land were vanquisht now,

Back to the city he with grief retires,

Confounded with his fortunes, crying out

20That Cleopatra had betray’d his trust.

She, all amaz’d, and fearing least he might

In this conceit to farther rages burst,

Hastes to the tomb which she erected had

(A stately vault to Isis temple join’d)

25And thence caus’d word be sent how she was dead,

And had dispatcht herself, through grief of mind.

Which, when Antonius heard, he straight burst forth

Into this passion: “what? and hast thou then

Prevented me, brave queen, by thy great worth?

30Hath Cleopatra taught the work of men?

Hath she outgone me in the greatest part

Of resolution, to die worthily?

And must I follow? Doth she disappoint

Me, of th’ example to teach her to die?

35Come Eros, doe this service for thy Lord,

The best and greatest pleasure thou canst doe:

Employ this weapon here, come, make this sword

That won me honour, now to save it to.

It is a deed of glory, Eros, this!

40For these dry deaths are womanish and base.

It is for an unsinewed  feebleness

T’ expire in feathers and t’ attend disgrace.

Ther’s nothing easier Eros then to die,

For when men cannot stand, thus they may fly”.

45Eros, his late enfranchis’d servant, takes

The sword, as if he would have done the deed,

And on it falls himself, and thereby makes

Antonius more confus’d to see him bleed

Who should have first evented out his breath.

50“Oh Eros, said he, and hath fortune quite

Forsaken me? Must I b’ outgone in all?

What? Can I not by losing get a right?

Shall I not have the upper hand to fall

In death? Must both a woman, and a slave

55The start before me of this glory have?”

With that he takes his sword, and down he falls

Upon the dismal point which makes a gate

Spacious enough for death, but that the walls

Of nature, skorn’d to let it in thereat,

60And he survives his death. Which when his love,

His royal Cleopatra, understood,

She sends with speed his body to remove

The body of her love imbru’d with blood.

Which brought unto her tomb, (lest that the praise

65Which came with him, might violate her vow)

She draws him up in rolls of taffeta

T’ a window at the top, which did allow

A little light unto her monument.

There, Charmion and poor Eras, two weak maids,

70Foretir’d with watching, and their mistress care,

Tugg’d at the pulley having no other aids,

And up they hoist the swounding body there

Of pale Antonius showring out his blood

On th’ under-lookers which there gazing stood.

75And when they had now wrought him up halfway

(Their feeble powers unable more to doe)

The frame stood still, the body at a stay,

When Cleopatra all her strength thereto

Puts, with what vigour, love, and care could use,

80So that it moves again, and then again

It comes to stay. When she afresh renews

Her hold, and with r’inforced power doth strain

And all the weight of her weak body lays,

Whose surcharg’d heart more than her body weighs.

85At length she wrought him up, and takes him in,

Lays his yet breathing body on her bed,

Applies all means his senses to rewin,

Stops up his wound again that freshly bled.

Calls him her lord, her spouse, her emperor.

90Forgets her own distress, to comfort his,

And interpoints each comfort with a kiss.

He, after some small rest and cherishing

Raises himself, and frames a forced cheer,

Wills Cleopatra leave her languishing,

95And like herself these accidents to bear,

Considering they had had so full a part

Of glory in this world, and that the turn

Of change was come, and Fortune would depart.

‘T was now in vain for her to stand and mourn,

100But rather ought she seek her race to free,

By all the means (her honour sav’d) she can,

“And none about Octavius trust”, said he,

“But Proculeius she’s an honest man.

And for myself, suffice I have not fail’d

105In any act of worth, and now in this.

A Roman hath but here a Roman quail’d,

And only but by fortune’s variousness,

And yet herein I may this glory take

That he who me undoes, my sword did make”.

110This said, he calls for wine, which he requires

Perhaps not for his thirst, but t’ end his breath,

Which having taken, forthwith he expires.

And thus, have I declar’d Antonius death.

OCTAVIUS

I grieve to hear this much. And I protest

115By all the gods, I am no cause of this,

He sought his ruin, wrought his own unrest,

And here these letters are my witnesses,

How oft I labour’d to recall him home,

And woo’d his friendship, su’d to him for love,

120And how he still contemn’d me, scorned Rome,

Yourselves my fellow citizens can prove.

But Gallus, you and Proculeius haste

With speed unto the city to prevent

Lest Cleopatra desperate now at last,

125Bereave us of the only ornament

Which is herself, that can our triumphs grace.

Or fire the treasure which she hath amasst 

Within that vault, of all the precious stuff

That Egypt yields, and disappoint at last

130Our travels of the benefit thereof.

Supple her heart with hopes of kind relief,

Give words of oil, unto her wounds of grief.

[1] CHORUS. 

Behold what Furies still

Torment their tortur’d breast.

Who by their doing ill,

Have wrought the world’s unrest.

5Which when being most distrest,

Yet more to vex their sprite,

The hideous face of sin

(In forms they must detest)

Stands ever in their sight.

10Their conscience still within

Th’ eternal larum  is

That ever-barking dog that calls upon their miss.

No means at all to hide

Man from himself can find,

15No way to start aside

Out from the hell of mind.

But in himself confin’d,

He still sees sin before

And winged-footed pain, 

20That swiftly comes behind,

The which is ever more,

The sure and certain gain

Impiety doth get,

And wanton loose respect, that doth itself forget.

25And Cleopatra now,

Well sees the dangerous way

She took and car’d not bow,

Which led her to decay.

And likewise makes us pay

30For her disord’red lust,

The int’rest of our blood

Or live a servile pray,

Under a band unjust,

As others shall think good.

35This hath her riot won.

And thus she hath her state, herself and us undone.

Now every mouth can tell,

What close was muttered:

How that she did not well,

40To take the course she did.

For now is nothing hid, 

Of what fear did restrain.

No secret closely done,

But now is uttered:

45The text is made most plain

That flattery glos’d upon,

The bed of sin reveal’d,

And all the luxury that shame would have conceal’d.

The scene is broken down,

50And all uncov’red lies,

The purple actors known

Scarce men, whom men despise.

The complots of the wise,

Prove imperfections smoke

55And all what wonder gave

To pleasure-gazing eyes,

Lies scattered, dasht, all broke.

Thus, much beguiled have

Poor inconsiderate wights ,

60These momentary pleasures, fugitive delights.

[2]

[2.1] 

Cleopatra, Charmion, Eras.

Yet doe I live, and yet doth breath extend

My life beyond my life, nor can my grave

Shut up my griefs, to make my end my end?

Will yet confusion have more then I have?

5Is th’ honour, wonder, glory, pomp and all

Of Cleopatra dead, and she not dead?  

Have I outliv’d myself, and seen the fall

Of all upon me, and not ruined?

Can yet these eyes endure the ghastly look

10Of desolations dark and ugly face,

Wont but on fortunes fairest side to look,

Where nought was but applause, but smiles, and grace?

Whiles on his shoulders all my rest relied

On whom the burthen of my ambition lay,

15My Atlas, and supporter of my pride

That did the world of all my glory sway,

Who now thrown down, disrac’d, confounded lies

Crusht with the weight of shame and infamy,

Following th’ unlucky party of mine  eyes,

20The trains of lust and imbecility,

Now who would think that I were she who late

With all the ornaments on earth enrich’d,

Environ’d with delights, compast with state,

Glittering in pomp that harts and eyes bewitch’d;

25Should thus distrest, cast down from of that height

Levell’d with low disgrac’d calamity,

Under the weight of such affliction sigh,

Reduc’d unto th’ extreamest misery?

  Am I the woman whose inventive pride,

30Adorn’d like Isis, scorned mortality?

Is ’t I would have my frailty so belide

That flattery could persuade I was not I?

Well now I see they but delude that praise us,

Greatness is mockt, prosperity betrays us. 

35And we are but ourselves, although this cloud

Of interposed smokes make us seem more:

The spreading parts of pomp whereof w’are proud,

Are not our parts, but parts of other store .

Witness these gallant fortune-following trains,

40These summer-swallows of felicity

Gone with the heat, of all see what remains,

This monument, two maids, and wretched I.

And I t’ adorn their triumphs, am reserv’d

A captive kept to honour others spoils,

45Whom Caesar labours, so to have preserv’d,

And seeks to entertain my life with wiles.

But Caesar, it is more than thou canst do,

Promise, flatter, threaten extremity,

Employ thy wits and all thy force thereto,

50I have both hands, and will, and I can die.

CHARMION 

Come Eras, shall we go and interrupt

With some persuading words, this stream of moan?

ERAS

No Charmion, stay, the current that is stopt

Will but swell up the more, let her alone.

55Time hath not brought this hot disease of grief,

T’ a crisis fit to take a medicine yet

’T is out of season to apply relief

To sorrows late begun, and in the fit

Calamity is stubborn in the prime

60Of new afflictions, we must give it time.

CLEOPATRA

Shall Rome behold  my sceptre-bearing hands,

Behind me bound, and glory in my tears?

Shall I pass by  whereas Octauia stands

To view my misery, that purchast hers?

65No, I disdain that head which wore a crown,

Should stoop to take up that which others give:

I must not be, unless I be mine own.

’T is sweet to die when we are forc’d to live.

Nor had I stayed behind myself this space,

70Nor paid such interest for this borrow’d breath,

But that hereby I seek to purchase grace

For my distressed seed after my death.

Is ’t that which doth my dearest blood control,

That’s it alas detains me from my tomb,

75Whilst Nature brings to contradict my soul,

The argument of mine unhappy womb. 

  But what know I if th’ heavens have decreed,

And that the sins of Egypt have deserv’d,

The Ptolemies should fail, and none succeed,

80And that my weakness was thereto reserv’d.

That I should bring confusion to my state,

And fill the measure of iniquity:

And my luxuriousness  should end the date 

Of loose and ill-dispensed liberty. 

85If it be so, then what needs these delays?

Since I was made the meanes of misery:

Why should I not  but make my death  my praise,

That had my life but for my infamy? 

And leave engrav’d in letters of my blood ,

90A fit memorial for the times to come,

To be example to such princes good

That please themselves, and care not what become. 

CHARMION 

Dear madam, do not thus afflict your heart

No doubt you may work out a means to live

95And hold your state, and have as great a part

In Caesar’s grace, as Antony could give.

He that in this sort doth solicit you,

And treats by all the gentle means he can,

Why should you doubt that he should prove untrue,

100Or think him so disnatured a man

To wrong your royal trust or dignity?

CLEOPATRA

Charmion, because that now I am not I,

My fortune, with my beauty and my youth.

Hath left me unto misery and thrall,

105And Caesar cares not now by ways of truth,

But cunning, to get honour by my fall.

CHARMION

You know not Caesar’s dealing till you try.

CLEOPATRA

To try, were to be lost and then descry.

CHARMION

You to Antonius did commit yourself,

110And why might not Antonius so have done?

CLEOPATRA

I won Antonius, Caesar hath me won.

ERAS

But madame, you might have articuled 

With Caesar, when Thyrius he of late

Did offer you so kindly as he did.

115Upon conditions to have held your state.

CLEOPATRA

’T is true, I know I might have held my state,

If I would then have Antony betray’d,

ERAS

And why not now, since Antony is dead,

And that Octavius hath the end he sought,

120May not you have what then was offered?

On fairer terms, if things were fitly wrought

And that you would not teach him to deny

By doubting him, or asking fearfully.

CLEOPATRA

Fearfully? Eras peace! I scorn to fear,

125Who now am got out of the reach of wrath,

Above the power of pride. What should I fear?

The might of men, that am at one with death?

Speak ye no more to me I charge you here.

What? will you two, who still have took my part

130In all my fortunes, now conspire with fear

To make me mutiny against my heart?

  No  Antony, because the world takes note 

That ’t was my weakness that hath ruin’d thee ,

And my ambitious practises are thought

135The motive and the cause of all to be:

My constancy shall undeceive their minds ,

And I will  bring the witness of my blood,

To testify my fortitude , that binds

My equal love , to fall with him I stood.

140Though God thou know’st, this stain is wrongly laid 

Upon my soul, whom ill success makes ill:

And my  condemn’d misfortune hath no aid

Against proud luck that argues what it will.

Defects I grant I had, but this was worst,

145That being the first to fall I di’d not first.

Though I perhaps could lighten mine own side

With some excuse of my constrained case

Drawn down with power but that were to divide

My shame: to stand alone in my disgrace.

150To clear me so, would shew m’affections naught,

And make th’ excuse more heinous than the fault.

Since if I should our errors disunite,

I should confound afflictions only rest,

That from stern death even steals a sad delight

155To die with friends or with the like distresst. 

And I confess me bound to sacrifice 

To Death, and thee, the life that doth reprove me,

Our like distress I feel doth sympathize,

And now  affliction makes me truly love thee. 

160When heretofore my vain lascivious court 

Fertile in every fresh and new-choice pleasure,

Afforded me so bountiful disport,

That I to think on love had never leisure.

My vagabond desires no limits found,

165For lust is endless, pleasure hath no bound.

When thou bred in  the strictness of the city,

The riotous pomp of monarchs never learnedst 

Inu’rd to wars, in women’s wiles unwitty,

Whilst others feigned, thou fell’st to love in earnest

170Not knowing women love them best that hover,  

And make least reckoning of a doting lover.

And yet thou cam’st  but in by beauties wane,

When new appearing wrinkles of declining

Wrought with the hand of years, seem’d to detain

175My graces light, as now but dimly shining. 

Even in the confines of mine age, when I

Failing of what I was, and was but thus,

When such as we, doe deem in jealousy

That men love for themselves, and not for us.

180Then, and but thus, thou didst love most sincerely,

(O Antony that best deservdst it better!)

This autumn of my beauty bought so dearly,

For which in more than death I stand thy debtor,

Which I will pay thee with so true a mind, 

185Casting up all these deep accompts of mine,

As  both our souls and all the world shall find

All reckonings cleer’d betwixt my love and thine.

  But to the end I may prevent proud Caesar, 

Who doth so eagerly my life importune,

190I must prevail me of this little leisure,

Seeming to suit my mind unto my fortune.

Thereby with more convenience to  provide

For  what my death and honour best shall fit:

A yielding  base content must wary hide

195My last design till I accomplish it,

That hereby yet the world shall see that I,

Although unwise to live had wit to die.

[2.2]

Octavius, Proculeius, Gallus. 

Kingdoms I see we win, we conquer climates,

Yet cannot vanquish hearts, nor force obedience,

Affections kept in close-concealed limits,

Stand far without the reach of sword or violence.

5Who forc’d doe pay us duty, pay not love:

Free is the heart, the temple of thy  mind,

The sanctuary sacred from above,

Where nature keys  that loose and bind,

No mortal hand force open can that door,

10So close shut up, and lockt to all mankind,

I see men’s bodies only ours, no more,

The rest, another’s right, that rules the mind.

Behold, my forces vanquisht have this land,

Subdu’d that strong competitor of mine,

15All Egypt yields to my all-conquering hand,

And all their treasure and themselves resign.

Only this queen, that hath lost all this all,

To whom is nothing left except a mind,

Cannot into a thought of yielding fall, 

20To be dispos’d as chance hath her assign’d.

But Proculeius tell me what y’ have done,

Will yet this woman’s stubborn heart be won?  

PROCULEIUS

My Lord, we have all gentle meanes impli’d,

According to th’ instructions which you gave,

25And hope in time she will be pacifi’d,

And these are all the likelihoods we have:

First when we came into her arched vault,

With Gallus set to entertain the time

Below with her, conferring at a grate,

30Whilst I found meanes up to the top to climb,

He there persuaded her to leave that place

And come to Caesar and to sue for grace.

She said she crav’d not life, but leave to die,

Yet for her children pray’d they might inherit,

35That Caesar would vouchsafe in clemency,

To pity them, though she deserv’d no merit. 

I now  descending in the closest wise

And silent manner as I could contrive

Her woman me descri’d, and out she cries:

40“Ah  Cleopatra, thou art forc’d  alive”.

With that the Queen raught  from her side her knife,

And even in act to stab her mart’red breast,

I stept with speed, and held, and sav’d her life,

And forth her trembling hand the blade did wrest.

45“Ah Cleopatra, why should you” said I,

“Both injury yourself, and Caesar so?

Bar him the honour of his victory,

Whoever deals most mildly with his foe?

Live and rely on him, whose mercy will

50To your submission always ready be”.

 With that (as all amaz’d) she held her still,

Twixt majesty confus’d and misery.

Her proud griev’d eyes, held sorrow and disdain,

State and distress warring within her soul,

55 Dying ambition dispossest her reign,

So base affliction seemed to control,

Like to  a burning lamp, whose liquor spent

With intermitted flames, when dead you deem it,

Sends forth a dying flash, as discontent,

60That so the matter fails that should redeem it.

So she (in spight ) to see her low-brought state,

(When all her hopes were now consum’d to nought)

Scorns yet to make an abject league with Fate,

Or once descend into a servile thought.

65Th’ imperious tongue unused to beseech, 

Authority confounds with prayers, so

As words of rule  conjoin’d with humble speech,

Shew’d she would live, yet scorn’d to pray her foe.

   “Ah, what hath Caesar here to doe”, said she,

70“In confines of the dead in darkness lying ?

Will he not grant our sepulchres be free,

But violate the privilege of dying?

What, must he stretch forth his ambitious hand

Into the right of Death, and force us here?

75Hath misery no covert where to stand

Free from the storm of pride, is ’t safe nowhere?

Cannot my land, my gold, my crown suffice,

And all what I held dear, to him made common,

But that he thus must seek  to tyrannize

80On th’ woeful body of a wretched woman? 

Tell him, my frailty, and the gods have given

Sufficient glory, could he be content ,

And let him now with his desires make even,

And leave me here in horror to lament.

85Now he hath taken all away from me,

What must he take me from myself by force?

Ah, let him yet (in mercy) leave me free

The kingdom of this poor distressed corpse.

No other crown I seek, no other good,

90Yet wish that Caesar would vouchsafe this grace,

To favour th’ woeful  offspring of my blood,

A mixed  issue yet of Romane race.

If blood and name be links of love in princes,

Not spurs of hate, my poor Caesario may

95Find favour notwithstanding mine offences,

And Caesar’s blood, may Caesar’s raging stay.

But if that with the torrent of my fall,

All must be rapt with furious violence,

And no respect, nor no regard at all,

100Can ought with nature or with blood dispense:

Then be it so, if needs it must be so”.

There stays and shrinks in horror of her state:

When I began to mitigate her woe,

And your great mercies unto her relate,

105Wishing her not despair, but rather come

And sue for grace, and shake off all vain fears,

No doubt she should obtain as gentle doom

As she desir’d, both for herself and hers.

Wherewith at last she seem’d well pacifi’d,

110And gave great shows to be content to live,

And said she was resolv’d your doom t’ abide,

And to accept what favour you would give.

And therewithal crav’d only that she might

Perform some obsequies unto the corpse

115Of her dead love, according to her rite,

And in the meane time might be free from force.  

I, granting from thy part this her request,

Left her for then, seeming in better rest.

OCATVIUS

But doe you think she will remain so still?

PROCULEIUS

120I think, and doe assure myself she will.

OCATVIUS

Ah, private thoughts aim wide from princes hearts

Whose state allows them not t’ act their own parts. 

PROCLEUIS

Why, ’t is her safety for to yield to thee.

OCATVIUS

But tis more honour for her to die free.

PROCLEUIS

125She may by yielding work  her children’s good.

OCATVIUS

Princes respect their honour more than blood.

PROCLEUIS

Can princes power dispense with nature then?

OCATVIUS

To be a prince, is more than be a man.

PROCLEUIS

There’s none but have in time persuaded been.

OCATVIUS

130And so might she too, were she not a queen.

PROCLEUIS

Divers respects will force her be reclam’d.

OCATVIUS

Princes, like lions, never will be tam’d.

A private man may yield, and care not how,

But greater hearts will break before they bow.

135And sure I fear  she will not  condescend

To live to grace our spoils with her disgrace,

But yet let still a wary troupe  attend,

To guard her person, and to watch the place.

And well observe with whom she doth confer,

140And shortly will myself goe visit her .

[2] CHORUS. 

Stern, and imperious Nemesis 

Daughter of Justice, most severe,

That art the world’s great arbitress,

And queen of causes reigning here.

5Whose swift-sure hand is ever near

Eternal justice, righting wrong,

Who never yet-deferrest long

The prouds decay, the weaks redress.

But through thy power everywhere,

10Dost raze the great and raise the less.

The less made great, dost ruin too,

To show the earth what heaven can do.

Thou from dark-clos’d eternity,

From thy black cloudy hidden seat,

15The world’s disorders dost descry,

Which when they swell so proudly great,

Reversing th’ order nature set,

Thou giv’st thy all-confounding doom,

Which none can know before it come.

20Th’ inevitable destiny,

Which neither wit nor strength can let,

Fast chain’d unto necessity,

In mortal things doth order so,

Th’ alternate course of weal or wo .

25O low the powers of heaven do play

With travail’d mortality,

And doth their weakness still betray

In their best prosperity,

When being listed up so high,

30They look beyond themselves so far,

That to themselves they take no care,

Whilst swift confusion down doth lay,

Their late proud mounting vanity,

Bringing their glory to decay.

35And with the ruin of their fall,

Extinguish people, state and all.

But is it justice that all we

Th’ innocent poor multitude,

For great men’s faults should punisht be,

40And to destruction thus pursued?

O why should th’ heavens us include,

O why should th’ heavens us include,

Within the compass of their fall,

Who of themselves procured all?

45Or do the gods in close decree,

Occasion take how to extrude

Man from the earth with cruelty?

Ah no, the Gods are ever just,

Our faults excuse their rigor must.

50This is the period Fate set down,

To Egypt’s fat prosperity,

Which now unto her greatest grown,

Must perish thus, by course must die.

And some must be the causers why

55This revolution must be wrought,

As borne to bring their state to nought.

To change the people and the crown,

And purge the world’s iniquity

Which vice so far hath over-grown.

60As we, so they that treat us thus,

Must one day perish like to us.

[3]

[3.1]

Philostratus, Arius, 2 Philosophers. 

How deeply Arius am I bound to thee,

That sav’dst from death this wretched life of mine:

Obtaining Caesar’s gentle grace for me, 

When I of all helps else despair’d but thine?

5Although I see in such a woeful state,

Life is not that which should be much desir’d:

Sith all out glories come to end their date,

Our countries honour and our own expir’d.

Now that the hand of wrath hath overgone us,

10And that we live in  th’ arms of our dead mother,

With blood under our feet, ruin upon us,

And in a land most wretched of all other,

When yet we reckon life our dearest good.

And so we live, we care not how we live,

15So deep we feel impressed in our blood,

That touch which nature with our breath did give.

And yet what blasts of words hath learning found,

To blow against the fear of death and dying?

What comforts unsick eloquence can sound,

20And yet all fails us in the point of trying;

For whilst we reason with the breath of safety,

Without the compass of destruction living,

What precepts show we then, what courage lofty

In taxing others’ fears, in counsel giving?

25When all this air of sweet-contrived words,

Proves but weak armour to defend the heart.

For when this life, pale fear and terror boords ,

Where are our precepts then, where is our art?

O who is he that from himself can turn,

30That bears about the body of a man?

Who doth not toil and labour to adjourn

The day of death, by any meanes he can?

All this I speak to th’ end myself t’ excuse,

For my base begging of a servile breath,

35Wherein I my profession did abuse ,

So shamefully to seek t’ avoid my death.

ARIUS

Philostratus, that same desire to live ,

Possesseth all alike, and grieve not then

No privilege Philosophy doth give ,

40Though we speak more than men, we are but men.

And yet (in truth) these miseries to see,

Wherein we stand in most extreme distress:

Might to ourselves sufficient motives be

To loath this life, and weigh our death the less.

45For never age could better testify ,

What feeble footing pride and greatness hath.

How soon improvident prosperity,

Comes caught, and ruin’d in the day of wrath .

See how dismayed Confusion keeps those streets,

50That nought but mirth and musique late resounded,

How nothing with our eye but horror meets,

Our state, our wealth, our glory all confounded.

Yet what weak sight did not discern from far,

This black arising tempest all-confounding?

55Who did not see we should be what we are,

When pride and riot grew to such abounding?

When dissolute impiety possest,

Th’ unrespective  minds of prince and people ,

When insolent Security found rest

60In wanton thoughts, with lust and ease made feeble?

Then when unwary peace with fat-fed pleasure,

New-fresh invented ryots still detected,

Purchas’d with all the Ptolemies rich treasure,

Our laws, our gods, our mysteries neglected.

65Who saw not how this confluence of vice,

This inundation of disorders, would 

S[o]engulf this state in th’ end, that no device

Our utter overwhelming could withhold? 

O thou, and I, have heard, and read, and known,

70Of mighty lands, are woefully incomb’red ,

And fram’d by them examples for our own,

Which now amongst examples must be numb’red.

For this decree a law from high is given,

An ancient canon , of eternal date,

75In consistory of the stars of heaven,

Ent’red the book of unavoided fate,

That no state can in th’ height of happiness,

In th’ exaltation ef their glory stand,

But thither once arriv’d, declining less,

80Doe wrack themselves , or fall by others hand.

Thus doth the ever-changing course of things

Run a perpetual circle, ever turning,

And that same day that highest glory brings,

Brings us unto the point of back-returning.

85For senseless sensuality doth ever

Accompany our loose felicity,

A fatal witch, whose charms do leave us never,

Till we leave all confus’d with misery .

When yet ourselves must be the cause we fall,

90Although the same be first decreed on hie,

Our errors still must bear the blame of all,

This must it be, earth aske not heaven why.

Yet mighty men with wary jealous hand,

Strive to cut off all obstacles of fear,

95All whatsoever seems but to withstand

Their least conceit of quiet, held so dear,

And so intrench themselves with blood, with crimes,

With all injustice as their fears dispose,

Yet for all this we see, how oftentimes

100The means they work to keep, are means to lose.

And sure, I cannot see, how this can lie 

With great Augustus safety and renown ,

T’ extinguish thus the race of Antony

And Cleopatra, to confirm his own. 

PHILOSTRATUS

105Why must their issue be extinguished?

ARIUS

It must: Antillus is already dead.

PHILOSTRATUS

And what Caesario sprung of Caesars blood? 

ARIUS

Plurality of Caesars are not good.

PHILOSTRATUS

Alas what hurt procures his feeble arm?

ARIUS

110Not for it doth, but that it may doe harm.

PHILOSTRATUS

Then when it offers hurt, repress the same

ARIUS

Men seek  to quench a spark before it flame.

PHILOSTRATUS

’t is inhumane, an innocent to kill.

ARIUS

Such innocents, seldom remain so still.

115They think his death will farther tumults cease,

Competitors are subjects miseries,

And to the end to purchase public peace,

Great men are made the pleople’s sacrifice.

But see where Caesar comes himself to try

120And work the mind of our distressed queen,

To apprehend some empty  hope whereby

She may be drawn to have her fortunes seen.

Though I think, Rome shall never see that face 

That quell’d her champions, blush in base disgrace.

                      Exeunt.

[3.2]

Caesar, Cleopatra, Seleucus, Dolabella.

[CAESAR]

What Cleopatra, dost thou doubt so much

Of Caesar’s mercy, that thou hid’st thy face?

Or think you, your offences can be such,

As they surmount the measure of our grace?

CLEOPATRA

5O Caesar, not for that I fly thy fight

My soul this sad retire of sorrow chose,

But that my grieved soul  abhorring light,

Like best in darkness my disgrace t’ enclose.

And here to these close limits of despair

10This solitary horror where I bide,

I thought not ever Roman should repair ,

More after him, who here oppressed died.

Yet now, here at thy conquering feet I lie,

A  captive soul, that never thought to bow,

15Whose happy foot of rule and majesty

Stood late on that  same ground thou standest now.

CAESAR

Rise madame, rise, your self was cause of all. 

And yet would all were but your own alone,

That others ruin had not with thy fall

20Brought Rome her sorrows, to my triumphs moan

For you dissolv’d that league and love of blood,

Which makes my winning joy, a gain unpleasing,

Who cannot now look out into our good,

But through the horror of our own blood-shedding .

25And all we must attribute unto you.

CLEOPATRA

To me? What, Caesar , should a woman doe,

Opprest with greatness? What was it for me

T’ contradict my Lord, being bent thereto?

I was by love, by fear, by weakness, made

30An instrument to every enterprise .

For when the Lord of all the Orient bade,

Who but obey’d? Who then his help denies?  

And how could I withdraw my succouring hand,

From him that had my heart, and  what was mine?

35The interest of my faith in straightest band,

My love to his most firmly did combine.

CAESAR

Love? No, alas!   it was th’ innated hatred

That you and yours have ever borne our people.

That made you seek all means to have us scattered,

40To disunite our strength, and make us feeble.

And therefore, did that breast nurse our dissention,

With hope t’ exalt yourself, t’ augment your state.

To prey upon the wrack of our contention,

And (with the rest our foes) to joy thereat.

CLEOPATRA

45How easy Caesar is it to accuse,  

Whom fortune hath made faulty by their fall,

They who are vanquished may not refuse 

The titles of reproach th’ are charg’d withal.

The conquering cause hath right, wherein thou art,

50The overthrown must be the worser part .

Which part is mine, because I lost my part,

No lesser than the portion of a crown.

Enough for me. Ah what need I use art

To gain by others, but to keep mine own?

55But weaker powers may here see what it is ,

To neighbour great competitors too near,

If we take either part we perish thus,

If neutral stand, both parties we must fear.

Alas what shall the forc’d partakers doo,

60When they must aid, and yet must perish too?  

But Caesar since thy right or cause is such,

Weigh not so heavy on calamity,

Depress not the afflicted over-much;

Thy chiefest glory is thy lenity ,

65Th’ inheritance of mercy from him take,

Of whom thou hast thy fortune and thy name.

Great Caesar  me a queen at first did make,

And let not Caesar now confound the same.

Read here these lines which still I keep with me,

70The witness of his love and favours ever,

And God forbid this should be said of thee,

That Caesar wrong’d the favoured of Caesar.

For look what I have been to Antony,

Think thou the same I might have been to thee.

75And here I doe present thee with the note,

Of all my treasure, all the jewels rare,

Which Egypt hath in many ages got,

And look what Cleopatra hath is there.

SELEUCUS

Nay there’s not all set down within that roll,

80I know some things she hath reserv’d a part.

CLEOPATRA

What? Vile ungrateful wretch, dar’st thou control

Thy queen and sovereign? Caitive  as thou art.

CAESAR

Hold, hold, a poor revenge can work so feeble hands.

CLEOPATRA

Ah Caesar, what a great indignity

85Is this, that here my vassal subject stands,

T’ accuse me to my lord of treachery?

If I reserv’d some certain women’s toys,

Alas it was not for myself (God knows)

Poor miserable soul, that little joys

90In trifling ornaments, in outward shows.

But what I kept, I kept to make my way

Unto thy Livia , and Octavia’s  grace.

That thereby in compassion moved, they

Might mediate thy favour in my case.

CAESAR

95Well Cleopatra, fear not, thou shalt find

What favour thou desir’st, or can expect,

For Caesar never yet was found but kind

To such as yield, and can themselves subject.

And therefore comfort now your drooping mind

100Relieve your heart thus overcharged with care,

How well I will intreat ye you shall find ,

So soon as some affairs dispatched are.

Till when farewell.

CLEOPATRA         Thanks thrice-renown’d Caesar,

Poor Cleopatra rests thine own forever.

DOLABELLA

105No marvel Caesar though our greatest spirits,

Have to the power of such a charming beauty,

Been brought to yield the honour of their merits,

Forgetting all respect of other duty.

Then whilst the glory of her youth remain’d

110The wond’ring object to each wanton eye,

Before her full of sweet (with sorrow wain’d)

Came to the period of this misery.

If still, even in the midst of grief  and horror,

Such beauty shines, throw clouds of age and sorrow,

115If even those sweet decays seem to plead for her,

Which from affliction, moving graces borrow;

If in calamity she could thus move,

What could she do adorn’d with youth and love?

What could she do then, when as spreading wide

120The pomp of beauty, in her glory dight ?

When arm’d with wonder, she could use beside

Th’ engines of her love, hope and delight?

Daughter of marvel, Beauty, how dost thou

Unto disgracing sorrows give such grace?

125What power shows’t thou in a distressed brow

To make affliction faire, and tears to grace?

What can undressed locks, despoiled hair,  

A weeping eye, a wailing face be faire?

I see then artless feature may content,

130And that true beauty needs no ornament.

CAESAR

What in a passion Dolabella? What? Take heed,

Let others’ fresh examples charm this heat,

You see what mischiefs these vain humours breed,

When once they come our judgements to defeat .

135Indeed, I saw she labour’d to impart

Her sweetest graces in her saddest cheer,

Presuming on that face that knew the art

To moue, with what aspect soever ’t were.

But all in vain, she takes her aim amiss,

140The ground, and mark, her level much deceives,

Time now hath alt’red all, for neither is

She as she was, nor we as she conceives.

And therefore now ’t is fit she were more sage,

Folly in youth is sin, madness in age .

145And for my part, I seek but t’ entertain

In her some feeding hope to draw her forth,

The greatest trophy that my toile shall gain ,

Is to bring home a prizal  of such worth.

And now since she doth seem so well content,

150To be dispos’d by us, without more stay

She with her children shall to Rome be sent,

Whilst I by Syria thither take my way.

                    Exeunt.

[3] CHORUS. 

Opinion, how dost thou molest

Th’ affected mind of restless man?

Who following thee, never can,

Nor ever shall attain to rest.

5For getting what thou saist is best,

Yet lo, that best he finds far wide

Of what thou promisedst before:

For in the same he lookt for more,

Which proves but small when once ’t is tried.

10Then something else thou find’st beside,

To draw him still from thought to thought:

When in the end all proves but nought.

Farther from rest he finds him then,

Than at the first when he began.

15O malcontent seducing guest,

Contriver of our greatest woes, 

Which born of wind, and fed with shows,

Dost nurse thyself in thine unrest.

Judging ungotten things the best,

20Or what thou in conceit design’st

And all things in the world dost deem,

Not as they are, but as they seem,

Which shows thou ill defin’st   

And liv’st to come, in present pin’st.

25For what thou hast, thou still dost lack:

O minds tormentor, bodies wrack,

Vain promiser of that sweet rest,

Which never any yet possest.

If we unto ambition tend,

30Then dost thou draw our weakness on,

With vain imagination

Of that which never hath an end.

Or if that lust we apprehend,

How doth that pleasant plague infest?

35O what strange forms of luxury,

Thou straight dost cast t’ entice us by?

And tell’st us that is ever best,

Which we have never yet possest.

And that more pleasure rests beside, 

40In something that we have not tried.

And when the same likewise is had,

Then all is one, and all is bad.

This Antony can say is true,

And Cleopatra knows ’t is so,

45By th’ experience of their woe,

She can say, she never knew

But that just found pleasures new,

And was never satisfied,

He can say by proof of toil,

50Ambition is a vulture vile,

That feeds upon the heart of pride

And finds no rest when all is tried.

For worlds cannot confine the one,

Th’ other, lists and bounds hath none,

55And both subvert the mind, the state,

Procure destruction, envy, hate.

And now when all this is prov’d vain,

Yet Opinion leaves not here,

But sticks to Cleopatra near.

60Persuading now, how she shall gain

Honour by death, and fame attain.

And what a shame it were to live,

Her kingdom lost, her lover dead:

And so with this persuasion led,

65Despair doth such a courage give,

That nought else can her mind relieve.

Nor yet divert her from that thought:

To this conclusion all is brought.

This is that rest this vain world lends,

70To end in death that all thing ends.

[4]

[4.1]

Seleucus, Rodon.

Friend Rodon? Never in a better hour

Could I have met a friend then now I doe, 

Having affliction in the greatest power

Upon my soul, and none to tell it to.

5For ’t is some ease our sorrows to reveal,

If they to whom we shall impart our woes

Seem but to feel a part of what we feel,

And meet us with a sigh but at a close.

RODON

And never (friend Seleucus) found’st thou one,

10That better could bear such a part with thee:

Who by his own, knows others cares to moan,

And can in like accord of grief agree.

And therefore, tell th’ oppression of thy heart,

Tell to an ear prepar’d and tun’d to care

15And I will likewise unto thee impart

As sad a tale as what thou shalt declare.

So shall we both our mournful plaints combine,

I will lament thy state, thou pity mine .

SELEUCUS

Well then, thou know’st how I have liv’d in grace

20With Cleopatra, and esteem’d in court

As one of counsel, and of worthy  place,

And ever held my credit in that sort.

Till now, in this late shifting of our state ,

When thinking to have us’d a mean to climb

25And fled the wretched, flown unto the great

(Following the fortune of the present time)

I come to be disgrac’d and ruin’d clean

For having all the secrets of the queen 

Reveal’d to Caesar, to have favour won.

30My treachery hath purchas’d due disgrace ,

My falshood’s loath’d, and not without great reason,

For Princes though they get, yet in this case,

They hate the traitor, though they love treason.

For how could he imagine I could be

35Entire to him, being false unto mine own?

And false to such a worthy queen as she

As had me rais’d, by whom my state was grown.

He saw t’ was not for zeal to him I bare

But for base fear, and mine estate to settle ,

40Weakness is false, and faith in cowards rare,

Fear finds out shifts, timidity is subtle.

And therefore scorn’d of him, scorn’d of mine own,

Hateful to all that look into my state,

Despis’d Seleucus now is only grown

45The mark of infamy, that’s pointed at.

RODON

’t is much thou saist, and too too much to feel,

And I doe pity , and lament thy fall,

But yet all this which thou dost here reveal,

Compar’d with mine, will make thine seem but small.

50Although my fault be in the self-same kind,

Yet in degree far greater, far more hateful.

Mine sprung of mischief, thine from feeble mind,

Mine staind with blood, thou only but ungrateful.

For Cleopatra did commit to me 

55The best and dearest treasure of her blood,

Her son Caesario, with a hope to free

Him, from the danger wherein Egypt stood 

And  chard’d my faith, that I should safely guide,

And close, to India should convey him hence

60Which faith, I most unkindly falsifi’d,

And with my faith and conscience did dispense.

For scarce were we arriv’d unto the shore ,

But  Caesar having knowledge of our way,

Had set an agent, thither sent before,

65To labour me Caesario to betray,

Who with rewards and promises so large,

Assail’d me then, that I grew soon content,

And back again  did reconvey my charge,

Pretending that Octavius for him sent,

70To make him king of Egypt presently.

And in their hands have left him now to die .

SELEUCUS

But how hath Caesar now rewarded thee?

RODON

As he hath thee. And I expect the same

As Theodorus had, to fall to me.

75And with as great extremity of shame,

For Theodorus when he had betrayed

The young Antillus, son of Antony,

And at his death from off his neck convey’d

A jewel, which being askt, he did deny

80Caesar occasion took to hang him straight,

Such instruments with princes live not long.

Though they must use those actors of deceit ,

Yet still their  sight seems to upbraid their wrong,

And therefore they  must needs this danger run,

85And in the net of their  own guile be caught,

They may not live to brag what they have done,

For what is done is not the princes fault.

But here comes Cleopatra, woeful queen,

And our shame will not that we should be seen.

                       Exeunt.

[4.2]

Cleopatra, Charmion, Eras, Diomedes.

What  hath my face yet power to win a lover?

Can this torn remnant serve to grace me so,

That it can Caesar’s secret plots discover

What he intends with me and mine to do?

5Why then poor Beauty thou hast done thy last

And best good service thou could’st ever doe me,

For now the time of death reveal’d thou hast,

Which in my life didst serve but to undoe me.

Here Dolabella far forsooth in love,

10Writes how that Caesar means forthwith to send

Both me and mine, the aire  of Rome to prove.

There his triumphant chariot to attend,

I thank the man, both for his love and letter,

The one comes fit to warn me thus before,

15But for the other, I must die his debtor,

For Cleopatra now can love no more .

Come Diomedes, thou who hast been one,

In all my fortunes, and art still all one,

Whom the amazing ruin of my fall ,

20Never deterr’d to leave calamity

As did those other smooth state-pleasers all,

Who followed but my fortune, and not me.

’t is thou must doe a service for thy queen,

Wherein thy loyalty must work her best .

25Thy honest care and duty shall be seen

Performing this, more than in all the rest.

Thou must seek out with all thy industry ,

Two aspics, and convey them close to me.

I have a worke to doe with them in hand,

30I have a work to doe with them in hand,

Enquire not what, for thou shalt soon see what,

If th’ heavens doe not my designs withstand,

But doe thy charge and let me shift with that.

DIOMEDES 

I who am sworn of the society

35Of death, and have indur’d the worst of ill,

Prepar’d for all events, must not deny

What you command me, come there what there will.

And I shall use the aptest skill I may

To cloak my work and long I will not stay.

                       Exit.

CLEOPATRA 

40But having leave, I must goe take my leave

And last farewell of my dead Antony:

Whose dearly honour’d tomb must here receive

This sacrifice, the last before I die.

Cleopatra at the tomb of Antonius.

O sacred ever-memorable stone,

45That hast without my tears, within my flame,

Receive th’ oblation of the woeful’st moan

That ever yet from sad affliction came.

And you dear relics of my lord and love

Most precious parcels of the worthiest liver ,

50Oh let no impious hand dare to remove

You out from hence, but rest you here forever.

Let Egypt now give peace unto you dead,

Who living, gave you trouble and turmoil,

Sleep quiet in this everlasting bed,

55In foreign land preferr’d before your soil.

And oh, if that the spirits of men remain

After their bodies, and doe never die,

Then hear thy ghost thy captive spouse complain,

And be attentive  to her misery.

60But if that laboursome mortality

Found this sweet error, only to confine

The curious search of idle vanity,

That would the depth of darkness undermine,

Or else , to give a rest unto the thought

65Of wretched man, with th’ after-coming joy

Of those conceived fields whereon we dote,

To pacify the present worlds annoy.

Then why doe I complain me to the air? 

But ’t is not so, my Antony doth hear,

70His ever-living ghost attends my prayer,

And I doe know his hovering spirit is near.

And I will speak, and pray, and mourn to thee,

O pure immortal soul, that deign’st to hear ,

I feel thou answer’st my credulity

75With touch of comfort, finding none elsewhere.

Thou know’st these hands entomb’d thee here of late,

Free and unforc’d, which now must servile be,

Reserv’d for bands to grace proud Caesar’s state,

Who seeks in me to triumph over thee.

80O if in life we could not sever’d be,

Shall death divide our bodies now asunder?

Must thine in Egypt, mine in Italy,

Be made  the monuments of fortune’s wonder?

If any powers be there whereas thou art

85Since our own country gods betray our cause,

O work they may their gracious help impart,

To save thy woeful wife from such disgrace.

Doe not permit she should in triumph show

The blush of her reproach, join’d with thy shame,

90But rather let that hateful tyrant know,

That thou and I had power t’ avoid the same.

But what doe I spend breath and idle wind,

In vain invoking a conceived aide?

Why doe I not myself occasion find

95To break the bounds wherein myself am staid?

Words are for them that can complain and live,

Whose melting hearts compos’d of baser frame,

Can to their sorrows time and leisure give,

But Cleopatra may not doe the same.

100No Antony, thy love requireth more.

A lingering death, with thee deserves no merit,

I must myself force open wide a door

To let out life, and so unhouse my spirit.

These hands must break the prison of my soul

105To come to thee, there to enjoy like state,

As doth the long-pent solitary foul,

That hath escapt her cage, and found her mate.

This sacrifice to sacrifice my life,

Is that true incense that my love beseems ,

110These rites may serve a life-desiring wife,

Who doing them, t’ have done sufficient deems .

My heart-blood should the purple flowers have been,

My heart blood should the purple flowers have been,

Which here upon thy tomb to thee are off’red,

115No smoke but dying breath should here been seen,

And this it had been too, had I been suff’red.

But what have I save only these bare hands?  

And these weak fingers are not iron-pointed,

They cannot pierce the flesh that them withstands ,

120And I of all means else am disappointed.

But yet I must a way and means seek, how

O Death, art thou so hard to come by now,

To come unto thee, and to union us ,

O Death art thou so hard to come by now,

125That we must pray, intreat, and seek thee thus ?

But I will find wherever thou doest lie ,

For who can stay a mind resolv’d to die? 

And now I come  to work th’effect indeed,

I never will send more complaints to thee ,

130I’ll bring my soul myself, and that with speed,

Myself will bring my soul to Antony.

Come go my maids, my fortunes sole attenders,

That minister to misery and sorrow,

Your mistress you unto your freedom renders,

135And will discharge your charge  yet ere tomorrow.

ERAS 

Good madam, if that worthy heart you bear

Doe hold it fit, it were a sin in us

To contradict your will but yet we fear

The world will censure that your doing thus

140Did issue rather out of your despair

Then resolution, and thereby you loose

Much of your glory, which would be more fair

In suff’ring than escaping thus your foes.

For when Pandora brought the box from heaven

145Of all the good and ill that men befall,

And them immixt unto the world had given,

Hope in the bottom lay, quite under all.

To shew that we must still unto the last

Attend our fortune, for no doubt there may

150Even at the bottom of afflictions past

Be found some happier turn if we but stay.

CLEOPATRA

Eras, that hope is honour’s enemy,

A traitor unto worth lies on the ground,

In the base bottom of servility

155The beggars’ wealth, a treasure never found,

The dream of them that wake, a ghost of th’ air

That leads men out of knowledge to their graves,

A spirit of grosser substance than despair,

And let them Eras hope, that can be slaves.

160And  now I am but only to attend

My man’s return, that brings me my dispatch,

God grant his cunning sort to happy end ,

And that his skill may well beguile my watch.

So shall I shun disgrace, leave to be sorry,

165Fly to my love, scape my foe, free my soul;

So shall I act the last act of my glory,

Die like a queen, and rest without control.

Exeunt.

[4.3] 

Caesario, with a Guard conveying him to Execution.

Now gentle guard, let me in curtesy

Best me a little here, and ease my bands,

You shall not need to hold me, for your eye

May now as well secure you, as your hands.

GUARD

5Doe take your ease Caesario, but not long,

We have a charge, which we must needs perform .

CAESARIO 

Lo  here brought back by subtle train to death,

Betrayed by tutor’s faith, or traitors rather.

My fault my blood, and mine offence my birth,

10For being son of such a mighty father.

I now am made th’ oblation for his fears ,    

Who doubts the poor revenge these hands may doe him?

Respecting neither blood, nor youth, nor years,

Or how small safety can my death be to him?

15And is this all the good of being born great?

Then wretched greatness, golden misery ,

Pompous distress, glittering calamity.

Is it for this th’ ambitious fathers swear,

To purchase blood and death for them and theirs?

20Is this th’ inheritance their glories get ,

To leave th’ estate of ruin to their heirs?

Then how much better had it been for me,

From low descent, deriv’d from humble birth,

T’ have eaten the sweet-sour bread of poverty,

25And drunk of Nilus’ stream in Nilus’ earth,

Under the cov’ring of some quiet cottage,

Free from the wrath of heaven, secure in mind,

Untoucht, when proud attempts  of princes dotage,

Embroil the world, and ruinate mankind.

30So had I not impeach’d their high condition,

Who must have all things clear and all made plain

Between them and the mark of their ambition,

That nothing let the prospect  of their reign,

Where nothing stands that stands not in submission,

35Whose greatness must all in itself contain.

Kings will be alone, competitors must down,

Near death he stands, that stands too near a crown.

Such is my case, for Caesar will have all,

My blood must seal th’ assurance of his state,

40Yet ah! weak state that blood assure him shall,

Whose wrongful shedding, Gods and men do hate.

Injustice cannot ’scape and flourish still,

Though men doe not revenge it, th’ heavens will.

And he that thus doth seek with bloody hand,

45T’ extinguish th’ offspring of another’s race,

May find the heavens his vows so to withstand,

That others may deprive his in like case.

When he shall see his proud contentious bed

Yeilding him none of his that may inherit,

50Subvert his blood, place others in their stead,

To pay this his injustice, her due merit ,

If it be true (as who can that deny

Which sacred priests of Memphis doe fore-say)

Some of the offspring yet of Antony,

55Shall all the rule of this whole empire sway.

And then Augustus, what is it thou gainest

By poor Antillus’ blood, or this of mine?

Nothing but this thy victory thou stainest,

And pull’st the wrath of heaven on thee and thine.

60In vain doth man contend against the stars,

For what he seeks to make, his wisdom mars.

Yet in the meantime we whom Fates reserve

The bloody sacrifices of ambition,

We feel the smart whatever they deserve,

65And we endure the heavy  times condition.

The justice of the heavens revenging thus,

Doth only satisfy itself not us.

But yet Caesario thou must die content,

God will revenge, and men bewail the innocent.

70Well now along I rested have enough,

Perform the charge, my friends, you have to doe .

                     Exeunt.

[4] CHORUS.

Mysterious Egypt, wonder breeder,

strict religions strange observer,

State-orderer zeal, the best rule-keeper,

Fost’ring still in temp’rate fervour,

5O how cam’st thou to lose so wholly

all religion, law and order?

And thus become the most unholy

of all lands that Nylus border?

How could confus’d Disorder enter

10where stern Law sat so severely?

How durst weak lust and riot venter

th’ eye of Justice looking nearly?

Could not those means that made thee great,

Be still the means to keep thy state?

15Ah no, the course of things requireth

change and alteration ever,

That stai’d  continuance man desireth,

th’ unconstant world yieldeth never.

We in our counsels must be blinded,

20and not see what dooth import us,

And often-times the thing least mind,

is the thing that most must hurt us.

Yet they that have the stern in guiding,

’t is their fault that should prevent it,

25For oft they seeing their country sliding,

for their private are contented .

We imitate the greater powers,

The princes’ manners fashion ours.

Th’ example of their light regarding,

30vulgar looseness much incenses,

Vice uncontrolled, grows wide enlarging,

Kings’ small faults, be great offences.

And this hath set the window open

unto licence, lust and riot.

35This way confusion first found broken,

whereby ent’red our disquiet,

Those laws that olde Sesostris  founded,

and the Ptolemies observed,

Hereby first came to be confounded,

40which our state so long preserved.

The wanton luxury of court,

Did form the people of like sort.

For all (respecting private pleasure)

universally consenting

45To abuse their time, their treasure,

in their own delights contenting

And future dangers nought respecting,

whereby (Oh how easy matter

Made this so general neglecting,

50Confus’d weakness to discatter ?)

Caesar found th’ effect true tried,

in his easy entrance making,

Who at the sight of arms, descried

all our people, all forsaking.

55For riot (worse than war) so sore

Had wasted all our strength before.

And thus is Egypt servile rend’red,

to the insolent destroyer,

And all their sumptuous treasure tend’red,

60all her wealth that did betray her,

Which poison (Oh if heavens be rightful)

may so far infect their senses,

That Egypt’s pleasures so delightful,

may breed them the like offences,

65And Romans learn our way of weakness,

be instructed in our vices.

That our spoils may spoil your greatness,

overcome with our devises.

Fill full your hands, and carry home

70Enough from us to ruin Rome.

[5]

[5.1] 

Dolabella, Titius.

[DOLABELLA]

Come tell me Titius ev’ry circumstance

How Cleopatra did receive my news,

Tell every look, each gesture, countenance,

That she did in my letters reading use.

TITIUS

5I shall my Lord so far as I could note,

Or my conceit observe in any wise.

It was the time when as she having got

Leave to her dearest dead to sacrifice,

And now was issuing out the Monument,

10With odours, incense, garlands in her hand,

When I approcht, as one from Caesar sent,

And did her close thy message t’ understand.

She turns her back, and with her takes me in,

Reads in thy lines thy strange unlookt for tale,

15And reads, and smiles, and stares , and doth begin

Again to read, then blusht, and then was pale.

And having ended with a sigh, refolds

Thy letter up and with a fixed eye,

(Which steadfast her imagination holds)

20She mus’d a while, standing confusedly,

At length. “Ah friend,” saith she, “tell thy good lord

How dear I hold his pitying of my case,

That out of his sweet nature can afford

A miserable woman so much grace.

25Tell him how much my heavy soul doth grieve

Merciless Caesar should so deal with me,

Pray him that he would all the counsel give,

Pray him that he the best advice would give ,

That might divert him from such cruelty.

30As for my love, say Antony hath all,

Say that my heart is gone into the grave

With him, in whom it rests and ever shall,

I have it not myself, nor can it  have.

Yet tell him, he shall more command of me

35Then any, whosoever living, can.

He that so friendly shows himself to be

A  Roman, and a gentleman.

Although his nation (fatal unto me)

Have had mine age a spoil, my youth a pray,

40Yet his affection must accepted be,

That favours one from whom all run away .

Ah, he was worthy then to have been lov’d,

Of Cleopatra whiles her glory lasted;

Before she had declining fortune prov’d,

45Or seen her honour wrackt, her flower all blasted.

Now there is nothing left her but disgrace,

Nothing but her affliction that can move.

Tell Dolabella, one that’s in her case,

(Poor soul) needs rather pity now then love.

50But shortly shall thy lord hear more of me”.

And ending so her speech, no longer stayed,

But hasted to the tomb of Antony.

But hasted to the tomb of Antony.

And this was all she did, and all she said.

DOLABELLA

55Ah sweet distressed Lady. What hard heart

Could choose but pity thee, and love thee too?

Thy worthiness, the state wherein thou art

Requireth both, and both I vow to do .

And  what my power and prayer may prevail,

60I’ll join them both, to hinder thy disgrace,

And even this present day I will not fail

To doe my best with Caesar in this case.

TITIUS

And Sir, even now herself hath letters sent,

I met her messenger as I came hither,

65With a dispatch as he to Caesar went,

But knows not what meanes  her sending thither.

Yet this he told, how Cleopatra late

Was come from sacrifice. How richly clad

Was serv’d to dinner in most sumptuous state,

70With all the bravest ornaments she had.

How having din’d, she writes, and sends away

Him straight to Caesar, and commanded than

All should depart the tomb, and none to stay

But her two maids, and one poor countryman.

DOLABELLA

75When  then I know, she sends t’ have audience now,

And means t’ experience what her state can doe,

To see if majesty will make him bow

To what affliction could not move him to.

And now if that she could but bring a view 

80Of that rare  beauty she in youth possest,

(The argument wherewith she overthrew

The wit of Julius Caesar, and the rest)

Then happily Augustus might relent,

Whilst powerful love, far stronger than ambition,

85Might work in him a mind to be content

To grant her asking in the best condition.

But being as she is, yet doth she merit

To be respected, for what she hath been:

The wonder of her kind powerful  spirit,

90A glorious lady, and a mighty queen.

And now, but by a little weakness falling

To doe that which perhaps sh’ was forc’d to doe,

Alas! An error past, is past recalling,

Take away weakness and take women too.

95But now I goe to be thy advocate,

Sweet Cleopatra, now I’ll use my heart .

Thy presence will me greatly animate,

Thy face will teach my tongue, thy love my heart.

[5.2] 

Cleopatra, Eras, Charmion, Diomedes, the Guard, and Caesars messengers.

Now Eras, come! What news hast thou lookt out?

Is Diomedes coming yet or not?

ERAS

Madame, I have from off the turret top

View’d every way, he is not coming yet,

CLEOPATRA

5Didst thou see no man tending hitherward?

ERAS

None truly madame, but one countryman

Carrying a basket as I could discern.

CLEOPATRA

Alas, then Eras I doe fear th’ event

Of my design. For sure he would not stay

10Thus long I know, did not some force prevent

His forward faith, and hold him by the way.

CHARMION

Madame, there may be many hindrances

To countercheck and interrupt his speed,

He hath a wary work to doe in this

15He must take time.

CLEOPATRA

Charmion ’t is true indeed.

And yet in all this time, me thinks he might

Effected have his work, had all gone right.

ERAS

Alas! We ever think the stay is more,

20When our desire is run t’ our wish before.

CLEOPATRA

Eras I know my will to have it done

Rides post, and fear in doing to b’ undone

Puts spurs thereto whilst that for which we long

Creeps but a foot. Yet sure he stays too long.

25Good Eras goe and look out once again,

Yet stay a while, I know it is in vain.

O gods, I crave no other fortune I

Of heaven and you, but only luck to die:

And shall I not have that. Well, I will yet

30Write my dispatch to Caesar, and when that

Is done, I will dispatch myself, what way

So ever, I must use no more delay.

Enter the Guard with Diomedes.

GUARD 

And whither now sir, stay, what have you there?

DIOMEDES

Good sirs, I have a simple present here,

35Which I would fain deliver to our queen.

GUARD

What is ’t? Let’s see! 

DIOMEDES          And please you sirs it is

Only a few choice figs which I have grown

In mine own garden, and are soonest ripe

Of any here about, and every year

40I use to bring a few unto our queen.

And pray my masters take a taste of them

For I assure you they are very good.

GUARD

No, no, my friend, goe on, and bear them in.

CLEOPATRA 

Now Eras, look if he be coming yet.

45See, here he comes, this is that countryman

Which Eras thou discrid’st, O happy man!

Can such poor robes beguile a prince’s power?

Why then I see, it is our outsides most

Doe mock the world. But tell me are they here?

50Speake Diomedes!

DIOMEDES     Madame they are there.

CLEOPATRA

O good-ill luck, most fortunate distress,

Deare Diomedes, thou hast blest me now.

And here, goe take these letters, and dismask 

Thy self again, return to thine own shape

55Good Diomedes, and give Caesar these.

Goe, leave me here alone, I need no more.

I have but these to keep a death in store.

I will not use their help till needs I must,

(And that is now) goe Diomedes goe.

DIOMEDES

60Good madame, I know well this furniture

Of death is far more requisite than that

Of life, where such as you cannot endure

To be beneath your selves, debas’d in state.

I goe t’effect your will as well in this

65As I have done in that only pray

Our tutelary gods to give success

Unto the same and be it what it may.

CLEOPATRA 

Come rarest beast, that all our Egypt breeds ,

How dearly welcome art thou now to  me?

70The fairest creature that fair Nylus feeds

Methinks I see, in now beholding thee.

Better than Death, Death’s office thou dischargest ,

That with one gentle touch canst  free our breath,

And in a pleasing sleep our soul enlargest,

75Making ourselves not privy to our death.

O welcome now of wonders wonder chief,  

That open canst with such an easy key

The door of life, come gentle cunning thief,

That from ourselves so steal’st ourselves away.

80And now I sacrifice these arms to Death ,

That Lust late dedicated to delights

Off’ring up for my last, this last of breath,

The complement of my love’s dear’st rites.

What  now false flesh? What? And wilt thou conspire 

85With Caesar too, as thou wert none of ours,

To work my shame, and hinder my desire?

And bend thy rebel parts against my powers?

Wouldst thou retain in closure of thy veins

That enemy, base life, to let my good?  

90No know, there is a greater power constrains

Than can be countercheckt with fearful blood.

For to a mind that’s great nothing seems great,

And seeing death to be the last of woes,

And life lasting disgrace which I shall get,

95What doe I lose that have but life to lose?

ERAS 

See, not a yielding shrink, or touch of fear

Consents now to bewray least sense of pain,

But still in one same sweet unaltered cheer,

Her honour doth her dying spirits retain.

CLEOPATRA

100Well now this work of mine is done, here ends 

This act of life, that part of Fates assign’d

What glory or disgrace this world could lend 

Both have I had, and both I leave behind .

And Egypt now the theater where I 

105Have acted this, witness I die unforc’d,

Witness my soul parts free to Antony,

And now proud tyrant Caesar doe thy worst.

ERAS

Come Charmion, come, we must not only be

Spectators in this scene, but actors too.    

110Now comes our part, you know we did agree

The fellowship of death to undergoe.

And though our meaner fortunes cannot claim

A glory by this act, they shall have fame.

CHARMION

Eras I am prepar’d, and here is that

115Will do the deed.

ERAS

And here is of the same.

CHARMION

But Eras, I’ll begin, it is my place.

ERAS

Nay Charmion, here I drink a death to thee!

I must be first.

CHARMION

120Indeed, thou hast prevented me.

Yet will I have this honour to be last

Which shall adorn this head, which must be seen

To wear that crown in death, her life held fast,

That all the world may see, she di’d a queen .

125O see this face, the wonder of her life,

Retains in death a grace, that graces death.

Colour so lively, cheer so lovely rife,

As none would think this beauty could want breath.

And in this cheer th’impression or a smile

130Doth seem to shew she scorns both death and Caesar,

And glories that she could them so beguile,  

And here tells death how well her death doth please her .

CAESAR’S MESSENGER

See, we are come too late, this is dispatcht,

Caesar is disappointed of this grace.

135Why how now Charmion, what is this well done?

CHARMION

Yea very well, and she that from the race

Of so great kings descends doth best become .

[5] CHORUS

Then thus we have beheld

Th’ accomplishment of woes,

The full of ruin, and

The worst of worst of ills.

5And seen all hope expell’d,

That ever-sweet repose

Shall repossess the land

That desolations fills,

And where Ambition spills

10With uncontrolled hand,

All th’ issue of all those

That so long rule have hell’d:

To make us no more us,

But clean confound us thus.

15And canst, oh Nylus! Thou,

Father of floods endure

That yellow Tiber  should

With sandy streams rule thee?

Wilt thou be pleas’d to bow

20To him those feet so pure,

Whose unknown head we hold

A power divine to be?

Thou that didst ever see

Thy free banks uncontroll’d

25Live under thine own care:

Ah wilt thou bear it now?

And now wilt yield thy streams

A pray to other realms?

Draw back thy waters flow

30To thy concealed head:

Rocks strangle up thy waves,

Stop cataracts thy fall.

And turn thy courses so,

That sandy deserts dead,

35The world of dust that craves

To swallow thee up all,

May drink so much as shall

Revive from vasty graves

A living green, which spread

40Far flourishing, may grow

On that wide face of Death

Where nothing now draws breath.

Fatten some people there,

Even as thou us hast done,

45With plenty wanton store,

And feeble luxury,

And them as us prepare

Fit for the day of moan

Respected not before.

50Leave levell’d Egypt dry,

A barren pray to lie,

Wasted forever more.

Of plenty yielding none

To recompense the care

55Of victors’ greedy lust,

And bring forth nought but dust.

And so, Oh! Leave to be,

Sith thou art what thou art,

Let not our race possess

60Th’ inheritance of shame,

The see of sin, that we

Have left them for their part,

The yoke of whose distress

Must still upbraid our blame,

65Telling from whom it came.

Our weight of wantonness

Lies heavy on their heart

Who never-more shall see

The glory of that worth

70They left who brought us forth.

Oh thou all seeing light!

High president of heaven,

You magistrates the stars

Of that eternal court

75Of Providence and Right

Are these the bounds y’ have given

Th’ untranspassable bars

That limit pride so short?

Is greatness of this sort

80That greatness greatness mars,

And wracks itself, self-driven

On rocks of her own might?

Doth Order order so

Disorders overthrow?

Finis.