ACT V.

SCENE I-Cæsar's camp before Alexandria. Enter Cæsar, Agrippa, Dolabella, Macenas, Gallus, Proculeius, and others.

Caes. Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield; Being so frustrate, tell him, he mocks us by The pauses that he makes.2

Dol.

Cæsar, I shall.

[Exit Dolabella.

Enter Dercetas, with the sword of Antony.

Cas. Wherefore is that? and what art thou, that dar'st

Appear thus to us?

Der.

I am call'd Dercetas; Mark Antony I serv'd, who best was worthy Best to be serv'd: whilst he stood up, and spoke, He was my master; and I wore my life, To spend upon his haters: If thou please To take me to thee, as I was to him I'll be to Cæsar; if thou pleasest not, I yield thee up my life. Cœs.

What is't thou say'st? Der. I say, O Cæsar, Antony is dead.

Caes. The breaking of so great a thing should make A greater crack: The round world should have shock

Lions into civil streets,

And citizens to their dens :-The death of Antony Is not a single doom; in the name lay

A moiety of the world.

Der.

He is dead, Cæsar;

Not by a public minister of justice,

Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand,
Which writ his honour in the acts it cid,

Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,

(1) Frustrated.

(2) He trifles with us.

Splitted the heart.-This is his sword,

I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd
With his most noble blood.

Cœs.

Look you sad, friends?

The gods rebuke me, but it is a tidings
To wash the eyes of kings.

Agr.

And strange it is,

That nature must compel us to lament
Our most persisted deeds.

Mac.

His taints and honours

Waged equal with him.
Agr.
A rarer spirit never
Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us
Some faults to make us men. Cæsar is touch'd.
Mac. When such a spacious mirror's set before
him,

He needs must see himself.

O Antony!

Cæs. I have follow'd thee to this ;-But we do lance Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce Have shown to thee such a declining day, Or look on thine; we could not stali together In the whole world: But yet let me lament, With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts, That thou, my brother, my competitor In top of all design, my mate in empire, Friend and companion in the front of war, The arm of mine own body, and the heart Where mine his thoughts did kindle, that our stars,

Unreconciliable, should divide

Our equalness to this.-Hear me, good friends,But I will tell you at some meeter season;

Enter a Messenger.

The business of this man looks out of him,
We'll hear him what he says.-Whence are you?
Mess. A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my
mistress,

(1) Its.

Confin'd in all she has, her monument,
Of thy intents desires instruction;
That she preparedly may frame herself
To the way she's forced to.

Cœs.

Bid her have good heart; She soon shall know of us, by some of ours, How honourable and how kindly we Determine for her: for Cæsar cannot live To be ungentle.

Mess.

So the gods preserve thee! [Exit. Cas. Come hither, Proculeius; Go, and say, We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts The quality of her passion shall require;

Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke
She do defeat us: for her life in Rome

Would be eternal in our triumph: Go,

And, with your speediest, bring us what she says, And how you find of her.

Pro.

Cæsar, I shall. [Exit Pro. Cas. Gallus, go you along.-Where's Dolabella, To second Proculeius?

4gr. Joc.

Dolabella!

[Exit Gallus.

Cas. Let him alone, for I remember now How he's employed; he shall in time be ready. Go with me to my tent; where you shall see How hardly I was drawn into this war; How calm and gentle I proceeded still In all my writings: Go with me, and see What I can show in this.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Alexandria. A room in the monument. Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, and Iras.

Cleo. My desolation does begin to make A better life: 'Tis paltry to be Cæsar; Not being fortune, he's but fortune's knave,' A minister of her will; And it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds; Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change;

(1) Servant.

Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung, The beggar's nurse and Cæsar's.

Enter, to the gates of the monument, Proculeius, Gallus, and Soldiers.

Pro. Cæsar sends greeting to the queen of Egypt; And bids thee study on what fair demands

Thou mean'st to have him grant thee.

Cleo. [Within.]

Pro. My name is Proculeius.

Cleo. [Within.]

What's thy name

Antony

Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but

I do not greatly care to be deceiv'd,

That have no use for trusting. If your master
Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him,
That majesty, to keep decorum, must

No less beg than a kingdom: if he please
To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son,
He gives me so much of mine own, as I
Will kneel to him with thanks.

Pro.
Be of good cheer;
You are fallen into a princely hand, fear nothing:
Make your full reference freely to my lord,
Who is so full of grace, that it flows over
On all that need: Let me report to him
Your sweet dependancy; and you shall find
A conqueror, that will pray in aid for kindness,
Where he for grace is kneel'd to.

Cleo. [Within.]

Pray you, tell him I am his fortune's vassal, and I send him The greatness he has got. I hourly learn A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly

Look him i'the face.

Pro.

This I'll report, dear lady. Have comfort; for, I know, your plight is pitied Of him that caus'd it.

Gal. You see how easily she may be surpris'd; [Here Proculeius, and two of the guard, ascend

the monument by a ladder placed against

a window, and having descended, come behind Cleopatra. Some of the guard unbar and open the gates.

Guard her till Cæsar come.

[To Proculeius and the guard. [Exit Gal. Iras. Royal queen!

Char. O Cleopatra ! thou art taken, queen!— Cleo. Quick, quick, good hands.

Pro.

Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this
Reliev'd, but not betray'd.

Cleo.

[Drawing a dagger.

Hold, worthy lady, hold:

[Seizes and disarms her.

What, of death too,

Cleopatra,

That rids our dogs of languish?

Pro.

Do not abuse my master's bounty, by
The undoing of yourself: let the world see

His nobleness well acted, which

Will never let come forth.

your death

Cleo. Where art thou, death? Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen Worth many babes and beggars!

Pro.

O, temperance, lady Cleo. Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir; If idle talk will once be necessary,

I'll not sleep neither: This mortal house I'll ruin,
Do Cæsar what he can. Know, sir, that I
Will not wait pinion'd' at your master's court;
Nor once be chástis'd with the sober eye
Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up,
And show me to the shouting varletry2
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
Be gentle grave to me! rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies
Blow me into abhorring! rather make
My country's high pyramides my gibbet,
And hang me up in chains!

(1) Bound, confined. (2) Rabble.

!