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 placed, 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.
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. 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, leaving the basket
Enter ⌈Iras⌉ with a robe, crown, and other jewels
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.
Charmian and Iras help her to dress
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.
She kisses them
Farewell, kind Charmian. Iras, long farewell.
Iras falls and dies
Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall?
If thou and nature can so gently part,
The stroke of death is as a lover’s pinch,
Which hurts and is desired. Dost thou lie still?
If thus thou vanishest, thou tell’st the world
It is not worth leave-taking.
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
Which is my heaven to have.
She takes an aspic from the basket and puts it to her breast
Come, thou mortal wretch,
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
Of life at once untie. Poor venomous fool,
Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak,
That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass
Unpolicied!
CHARMIAN O eastern star!
CLEOPATRA
Peace, peace.
Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
That sucks the nurse asleep?
CHARMIAN
O, break! O, break!
CLEOPATRA
As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle.
O Antony!
She puts another aspic to her arm
Nay, I will take thee too.
What should I stay—
She dies
CHARMIAN
In this vile world? So, fare thee well.
Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies
A lass unparalleled. Downy windows, close,
And golden Phoebus never be beheld
Of eyes again so royal. Your crown’s awry.
I’ll mend it, and then play—
Enter the Guard, rustling in
FIRST GUARD Where’s the Queen?
CHARMIAN Speak softly. Wake her not.
FIRST GUARD
Caesar hath sent—
CHARMIAN
Too slow a messenger.
She applies an aspic
O come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee.
FIRST GUARD
Approach, ho! All’s not well. Caesar’s beguiled.
SECOND GUARD
There’s Dolabella sent from Caesar. Call him.
⌈Exit a Guardsman⌉
FIRST GUARD
What work is here, Charmian? Is this well done?
CHARMIAN
It is well done, and fitting for a princess
Descended of so many royal kings.
Ah, soldier!
She dies
Enter Dolabella
DOLABELLA
How goes it here?
SECOND GUARD All dead.
DOLABELLA
Caesar, thy thoughts
Touch their effects in this. Thyself art coming
To see performed the dreaded act which thou
So sought’st to hinder.
ALL
A way there, a way for Caesar!
Enter Caesar and all his train, marching
DOLABELLA (to Caesar)
O sir, you are too sure an augurer.
That you did fear is done.
CAESAR
Bravest at the last,
She levelled at our purposes, and, being royal,
Took her own way. The manner of their deaths?
I do not see them bleed.
DOLABELLA (to a Guardsman) Who was last with them?
FIRST GUARD
A simple countryman that brought her figs.
This was his basket.
CAESAR
Poisoned, then.
FIRST GUARD
O Caesar,
This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake.
I found her trimming up the diadem
On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood,
And on the sudden dropped.
CAESAR
O, noble weakness!
If they had swallowed poison, ’twould appear