Wherefore's this noise?

[Exit IRAS. A noise within,

Enter one of the Guard.

Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe,
Caesar's no merchant, to make prize with you
Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd;
Make not your thoughts your prisons: no, dear

queen;

For we intend so to dispose you, as

Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed, and sleep :
Our care and pity is so much upon you,
That we remain your friend; And so adicu.
Cleo. My master, and my lord!
Cas

Not so: Adieu. [Exeunt CESAR, and his Train. Cleo. He words me, girls, he words me, that should not

Be noble to myself: but hark thee, Charmian. Whispers CHARMIAN. Iras. Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are for the dark.

Dolabella,

I your servant.

Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Cæsar.
Cleo. Farewell, and thanks. [Exit DoL.] Now,
Iras, what think'st thou?

Thon, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown
In Rome, as well as I: mechanick slaves
With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall
Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths,
Rank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded,
And forc'd to drink their vapour.

Iras.
The gods forbid!
Cleo. Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: Saucy lictors
Will catch at us, like strumpets; and scald rhymers
Ballad us out o'tune: the quick comedians
Extemp'rally will stage us, and present
Our Alexandrian revels; Antony

Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see
Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness
I'the posture of a whore.

Iras.

O the good gods! Cleo. Nay, that is certain.

Iras. I'll never see it; for I'm sure, my nails Are stronger than mine eyes.

Cleo.

Why, that's the way To fool their preparation, and to conquer Their most absurd intents.-Now, Charmian ?—

Enter CHARMIAN.

Show me, my women, like a queen ;-Go fetch
My best attires;-I am again for Cydnus,
To meet Mark Antony :-Sirrah, Iras, go.-
Now, noble Charmian, we'll despatch indeed:
And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee

Guard.

Here is a rural fellow, That will not be denied your highness' presence; He brings you figs.

Cleo. Let him come in. How poor an instrument [Erit Guard,

May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty.
My resolution's plac'd, and I have nothing
Of woman in me: Now from head to foot
I am marble-constant: now the fleeting moon
No planet is of mine.

Re-enter Guard, with a Clown bringing a basket.
Guard.
This is the man.

Cleo. Avoid, and leave him. [Exit Guard.
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,

Cleo. 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, bnt something given to lie; as a woshe died of the biting of it, what pain she felt,man should not do, but in the way of honesty: how Truly, she makes a very good report o'the worm: But he that will believe all that they say, shall never be sayed by half that they do: But this is most fallible, the worm's an odd worm,

Cleo. Get thee hence; farewell.

Clown. I wish you all joy of the worm.

Cleo. Farewell.

[Clown sets down the basket, Clown. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind.

Clown. You must not think I am so simp, but I know the devil himself will not eat a woman: I know, her not. But, truly, these same whoreson devils do that a woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress the gods great harm in their women; for in every ten that they make, the devils mar five.

Cleo. Well, get thee gone; farewell. Clown. Yes, forsooth; I wish you joy of the worm. [Exit.

Re-enter IRAS, with a robe, crown, &c. Cleo. Give me my robe, put on my crown, I have Immortal longings in me: Now no more Yare, yare, good Iras; quick.-Methinks, I hear The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip:Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act; I hear him mock The luck of Cæsar, 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

leave

If thou and nature can so gently part,
The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch,
Which hurts, and is desir'd. Dost thou lie still?
If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world

It is not worth leave-taking.

2 Guard.

Touch their effects in this: Thyself art coming

say,

The gods themselves do weep!

Cleo.

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. Come, mortal wretch, [To the asp, which she applies to her breast. With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate Of life at once untie : poor venomous fool, Be angry, and despatch. O, could'st thou speak! That I might hear thee call great Cæsar, ass Unpolicied!

Char.

Cleo.

O eastern star!

Peace, peace! Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, That sucks the nurse asleep? Char. O, break! O, break! Cleo. As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle, O Antony!-Nay, I will take thee too:

[Applying another asp to her arm.
What should I stay- [Falls on a bed, and dies.
Char. In this wide world?-So, fare thee well.
Now boast thee, death! in thy possession lies
A lass unparallel'd.-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, rushing in.

1 Guard. Where is the queen? har.

Speak softly, wake her not.

1 Guard. Cæsar hath sentChar.

Too slow a messenger. Applies the asp.

O, come; apace, despatch: I partly feel thee. 1 Guard. Approach, ho! All's not well: Caesar's

beguil'd.

So sought'st to hinder.

Within.

A way there, a way for Cæsar! Enter CESAR and Attendants. Dol. O, sir, you are too sure an augurer; That you did fear, is done.

Cas.

Bravest at the last:

She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal,
Took her own way. The manner of their deaths?
I do not see them bleed.
Dol.

Who was last with them? 1 Guard. A simple countryman, that brought her figs. This was his basket.

Cæs.

1 Guard.

Poison'd then.

O Cæsar,

This Charmian lived but now; she stood, and spake:
On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood,
I found her trimming up the diadem
And on the sudden dropp'd.

Cæs.

O noble weakness!

If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear
By external swelling: but she looks like sleep,
As she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil of grace.

Dol.
Here, on her breast,
There is a vent of blood, and something blown:
The like is on her arm.

[leaves

1 Guard. This is an aspick's trail: and these figHave slime upon them, such as the aspick leaves Upon the caves of Nile.

Cas.

Most probable, That so she died; for her physician tells me, She hath pursu'd conclusions infinite Of

easy ways to die.-Take up her bed; And bear her women from the monument: She shall be buried by her Antony: No grave upon the earth shall clip in it

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

None but the king?

thing

1 Gent. He, that hath lost her, too: so is the queen, That most desir'd the match: But not a courtier, Although they wear their faces to the bent Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not Glad at the thing they scowl at. 2 Gent. And why so? 1 Gent. He that hath miss'd the princess, is a Too bad for bad report: and he that hath her, (I mean, that married her,-alack, good man!And therefore banish'd,) is a creature such As, to seek through the regions of the earth For one his like, there would be something failing In him that should compare. I do not think, So fair an outward, and such stuff within, Endows a man but he.

2 Gent. You speak him far. 1 Gent. I do extend him, sir, within himself; Crush him together, rather than unfold His measure duly.

2 Gent. What's his name, and birth? 1 Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: His father Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour, Against the Romans, with Cassibelan;. But had his titles by Tenantius, whom He serv'd with glory and admir'd success: So gain'd the sur-addition, Leonatus: And had, besides this gentleman in question, Two other sons, who, in the wars o' the time, Died with their swords in hand; for which, their

father

(Then old and fond of issue,) took such sorrow,
That he quit being; and his gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceas'd
As he was born. The king, he takes the babe

beline's Palace.

Enter Two Gentlemen.

1 Gent. You do not meet a man, but frowns: our bloods

No more obey the heavens, than our courtiers;
Still seem, as does the king's.
2 Gent.

But what's the matter? 1 Gent. His daughter, and the heir of his kingdom, whom

He purpos'd to his wife's sole son, (a widow,
That late he married,) hath referr'd herself

Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber:
Puts him to all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of; which he took,
As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd; and
In his spring became a harvest: Liv'd in court,
(Which rare it is to do,) most prais'd, most lov'd:
A sample to the youngest; to the more mature,
A glass that featured them; and to the graver,
A child that guided dotards: to his mistress,
For whom he now is banish'd-her own price
Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue;
By her election may be truly read,

Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN. Queen. No, be assur'd, you shall not find me, daughter,

After the slander of most step-mothers,
Evil-ey'd unto you: you are my prisoner, but
Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys

That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthúmus,
So soon as I can win the offended king,

I will be known your advocate: marry, yet
The fire of rage is in him; and 'twere good,
You lean'd unto his sentence, with what patience
Your wisdom may inform you.

Post.

I will from hence to-day.

Queen.

Please your highness,

You know the peril :I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying The pangs of barr'd affections; though the king Hath charg'd you should not speak together. [Exit QUEEN. Imo. 0 Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant Can tickle where she wounds!-My dearest husband, I something fear my father's wrath; but nothing, (Always reserv'd my holy duty,) what His rage can do on me: You must be gone; And I shall here abide the hourly shot Of angry eyes; not comforted to live, But that there is this jewel in the world, That I may see again.

Post. My queen! my mistress! O, lady, weep no more; lest I give cause To be suspected of more tenderness Than doth become a man! I will remain The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth. My residence in Rome, at one Philario's; Who to my father was a friend, to me Known but by letter: thither write, my queen, And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send, Though ink be made of gall

Re-enter QUEEN.

Queen.
Be brief, I pray you:
If the king come, I shall incur I know not
How much of his displeasure: Yet I'll move him
[Aside.

To walk this way: I never do him wrong,
But he does buy my injuries, to be friends;
Pays dear for my offences.

Post.

Should we be taking leave

As long a term as yet we have to live,
The loathness to depart would grow: Adieu!
Imo. Nay, stay a little:

Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
Such parting were too petty. Look here, love;
This diamond was my mother's: take it, heart
But keep it till you woo another wife,
When Imogen is dead.

Post. How! how! another?-
You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
And sear up my embracements from a next
With bonds of death!-Remain thou here
[Putting on the ring.
While sense can keep it on! And sweetest, fairest,
As I my poor self did exchange for you,
To your so infinite loss; so, in our trifles
I still win of you: For my sake, wear this;
It is a manacle of love; I'll place it
Upon this fairest prisoner.

Imo.

[Putting a bracelet on her O, the gods!

When shall we see again?

If, after this command, thou fraught the court
With thy unworthiness, thou diest: Away!
Thou art poison to my blood.
Post.
The gods protect you!
And bless the good remainders of the court!
I am gone.
Imo.

Erit.
There cannot be a pinch in death
More sharp than this is.
Cym.

O disloyal thing,
That should'st repair my youth; thou heapest
A year's age on me!
Imo.

I beseech you, sir,
Harm not yourself with your vexation; I
Am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare.
Subdues all pangs, all fears.

Cym.

Past grace? obedience? Imo. Past hope, and in despair; that way, past [queen!

grace. Cym. That might'st have had the sole son of my Imo. O bless'd, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock.

Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; would'st have made my throne

Cym. Thou foolish thing!They were again together: you have done [To the QUEEN Away with her,