Now to that name my courage prove my title! I give to baser life.-So, have you done? Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell. Have I the aspick 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 desir'd. Dost thou lie still? 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. 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! Unpolicied! Charmian. O Eastern Star ! 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 !—Nay, I will take thee too ;— [Applying another Asp to her arm. What should I stay— [Falls on a bed and dies. Charmian. In this wild 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 ; [Applies the Asp. O come; apace, despatch; I partly feel thee. 1st. Guard. Approach, ho! All's not well; Cæsar's beguiled. 2nd. Guard. There's Dolabella sent from Cæsar ;—call him. 1st. 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. Touch their effects in this: Thyself art coming Within. A way there, way for Cæsar! Enter CESAR, and attendants. Dolabella. O sir, you are too sure an augurer; That you did fear, is done. Cæsar. Bravest at the last; She levell❜d at our purposes, and, being royal, Dolabella. Who was last with them? Ist. Guard. A simple countryman, that brought her 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 dropp'd. Cæsar. O noble weakness !— If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear In her strong toil of grace. Dolabella. Here, on her breast, There is a vent of blood, and something blown : The like is on her arm. Ist. Guard. This is an aspick's trail: and these fig leaves Have slime upon them, such as the aspick leaves Upon the caves of Nile. Cæsar. 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; No grave upon the earth shall clip in it CLAUDIUS, King of Denmark. HAMLET, Son to the former, and nephew to the present King. OPHELIA, Daughter to Polonius. Ophelia. WHAT a noble mind is here o'erthrown ! sword: The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, The observ'd of all observers! quite, quite down! And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, That suck'd the honey of his musick vows, Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh ; That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth, Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me! To have seen what I have seen, see what I see ! ACT IV. SCENE V. Laertes. How now! what noise is that? |