The dramatic works of William Shakspere, from the text of Johnson, Stevens [sic] & Reed, with glossarial notes, his life, etc. by N. Rowe

Ces. Cleopatra, know,

We will extenuate rather than enforce:
If you apply yourself to our intents,
(Which towards you are most gentle,) you

shall find

A benefit in this change; but if you seek
To lay on me a cruelty, by taking
Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself
Of my good purposes, and put your children
To that destruction which I'll guard them
from,

If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave.
Cleo. And may, through all the world: 'tis
yours: and we

Your 'scutcheons, and your signs of conquest,
shall
[lord.
Hang in what place yon please. Here, my good
Ces. You shall advise me in all for Cleopa-

tra.

Cleo. This is the brief of money, plate, and
jewels,

I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued;
Not petty things admitted.-Where's Seleucus?
Sel. Here, madam.

Cleo. This is my treasurer; let him speak,
my lord,

Upon his peril, that I have reserv'd

To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus.
Sel. Madam,

I had rather seel* my lips, that, to my peril,
Speak that which is not.

Cleo. What have I kept back?

Sel. Enough to purchase what you have made known.

Ces. Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve Your wisdom in the deed.

Cleo. See, Cesar! O, behold,

yours;

How pomp is follow'd! mine will now be [mine. And, should we shift estates, yours would be The ingratitude of this Seleucus does [trust Even make me wild:-O slave, of no more Than love that's hir'd-What, goest thou [eyes, Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine Though they had wings: Slave, soulless villian, dog!

back? thou shalt

O rarelyt base!

Ces. Good queen, let us entreat you.

We answer others' merits in our name,
Are therefore to be pitied.

Ces. Cleopatra,

[ledg'd,

Not what you have reserv'd, nor what acknow
Put we i'the roll of conquest: still be it yours,
Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe,
Cesar'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 [sleep:
Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed, and
Our care and pity is so much upon you,
That we remain your friend; And so adieu.
Cleo. My master, and my lord!
Ces. Not so: Adieu.

[Exeunt CESAR, and his Train. Cleo. He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not

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

Cleo. Hie thee again:

I have spoke already, and it is provided;
Go, put it to the haste.

Char. Madam, I will.

Re-enter DOLABELLA.

Dol. Where is the queen?
Char. Behold, Sir.
Cleo. Dolabella?

[Exit CHARMIAN.

Dol. Madam, as thereto sworn by your com.

mand,

Which my love makes religion to obey,
I tell you this: Cesar through Syria
Intends his journey; and, within three days,
You with your children will he send before:
Make your best use of this: I have perform'd
Your pleasure, and my promise.

Cleo. Dolabella,
I shall remain your debtor.
Adien, good queen; I must attend on Cesar.
Dol. I your servant.
Cleo. Farewell, and thanks. [Exit DoL.]
Now, Iras, what think'st thou?
Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shall be shown
In Rome, as well as I: mechanic slaves,

Cleo. O Cesar, what a wounding shame is With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall

this;

That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me,
Doing the honour of thy lordliness

To one so meek, that mine own servant should
Parcel the sum of my disgraces by

Addition of his envy! Say, good Cesar,

Cleo. Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: Saucy lictorst [rhymers Will catch at us, like strumpets; and scald Ballad us out o'tune: the quick comedians

As we greet moderns friends withal; and say, Extemporally will stage us, and present

Their mediation; must I be unfolded
With one that I have bred? The gods!

smites me

For things that others do; and, when we fall, Show me, my women, like a queen;—Go fetch

Sew up. + Uncommonly. Add to. Common.
Cesar's wife and ¶ Sister.

Fire.

*Merits or demerits.
Lively.

+ Beadles.

Female characters were played by boys.

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 leave

To play till doomsday.-Bring our crown and
Wherefore's this noise?
[all.
[Exit IRAS. A Noise withra.
Enter one of the GUARD.

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

ment

Cleo. Let him come in. How poor an instru[Exit 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 wormt 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. Remembers't 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'the worm: But he that will believe all that they say, shall never be saved 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.§

Cleo. Ay, ay; farewell.

Clown. Look you, the worm is not to be trusted, but in the keeping of wise people; for, 'ndeed, there is no goodness in the worm.

Cleo. Take thou no care; it shall be heeded. Clown. Very good: give it nothing, I pray you, for it is not worth the feeding.

Cleo. 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.

worm.

Cleo. Well, get thee gone; farewell.
Clown. Yes, forsooth; I wish you joy of the
[Exit.
Re-enter IRAS, with a Robe, Crown, &c.
Cleo. Give me my robe, put on my crown; I

have

748

To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
The luck of Cesar, 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.
[well.
Farewell, kind Charmian ;-Iras, long fare-
[Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies.
If thou and nature can so gently part,
Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall?
Which hurts, and is desir'd. Dost thou lie stil!?
The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch,
If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world
It is not worth leave-taking.

Char. Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I
may 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 That I might hear thee call great Cesar, ass speak! Unpolicied!*

Char. O eastern star!

Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
Cleo. Peace, peace!
That sucks the nurse asleep?

Char. O, break! O, break!

Cleo. As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as O Antony !-Nay, I will take thee too :gentle,What should I stay[Applying another Asp to her Arm.

[Falls on a Bed, and dies. Char. In this wild world?-So, fare thee

well.

Now boast thee, death! in thy possession lies
And golden Phoebus never be beheld
A lass unparallel'd.-Downy windows, close;
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?
Char. Speak softly, wake her not.
1 Guard. Cesar hath sent-
Char. Too slow a messenger.

[Applies the Asp O, come; apace, despatch: I partly feel thee 1 Guard. Approach, ho! All's not well: Ce

sar's beguil'd.

2 Guard. There's Dolabella sent from Cesar;-call him.

1 Guard. What work is here?-Charmian, is this well done?

Char. It is well done, and fitting for a prinDescended of so many royal kings. [cess Ah, soldier! [Dies.

Enter DOLABELLA Dol. How goes it here? 2 Guard. All dead.

Dol. Cesar, thy thoughts
Touch their effects in this: Thyself art coming
To see perform'd the dreaded act, which thou
So sought'st to hinder.

Within. A way there, way for Cegar!
Unpolitic, to leave me to nitreal.

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

A Guard. This is an aspic's trail: and these
Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves
fig-leaves
Upon the caves of Nile.
Ces. Most probable,

That so she died; for her physician tells me,
She had 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 clipt in it
A pair so famous. High events as these
Strike those that make them: and their story is
No less in pity, than his glory, which
Brought them to be lamented. Our army
In solemn show, attend the funeral;
shall,
And then to Rome.-Come, Dolabella, see
High order in this great solemnity. [Exeunt.
+ Enfold.

Tried experiments.

House.

Enter POET, PAINTER, JEWELLER, MERCHANT, and others, at several Doors.

Poet. Good day, Sir.

Pain. I am glad you are well.

Pain. You are rapt, Sir, in some work, some dedication

To the great lord.

[flint

Poet. A thing slipp'd idly from me.
Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes
From whence 'tis nourished: The fire 'the
Shows not, till it be struck; our gentle flame
Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies

Poet. I have not seen you long; How goes Each bound it chafes. What have you there?

the world?

Pain. A picture, Sir.-And when comes your

book forth?

Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment," Let's see your piece.

Pain. 'Tis a good piece.

[Sir

Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excel-
lent.
Pain. Indifferent.

Poet. Admirable: How this grace
Speaks his own standing! what a mental power
This eye shoots forth! how big imagination
Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the ges-
One might interpret.

[ture
Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life.
Here is a touch; Is't good?

Poet. I'll say of it,

It tutors nature: artificial strifet
Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

Enter certain SENATORS, and pass over.
Pain. How this lord's follow'd!
Poet. The senators of Athens:-Happy men!
Pain. Look, more!

Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood

of visitors.

I have, in this rough work, shap'd out a mau,

As soon as my book has been presented to Timin,

+ I. e. The contest of art with nature.

Whom this beneath world doth embrace and
hug

With amplest entertainment: My free drift
Halts not particularly, but moves itself
In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold;
But flies an eagle flight, bold, and forth on,
Leaving no tract behind.

Pain. How shall I understand you?
Poet. I'll unbolt to you.

You see how all conditions, how all minds,
(As well of glib and slippery creatures, as
Of grave and austere quality,) tender down
Their services to lord Timon: his large fortune,
Upon his good and gracious nature hanging,
Subdues and properties to his love and tend-

ance

All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-fac'd
flatterert

To Apemantus, that few things loves better
Than to abhor himself: even he drops down
The knee before him, and returns in peace
Most rich in Timon's nod.

Pain. I saw them speak together.

Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill,

Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd: The base
o'the mount

Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures,
That labour on the bosom of this sphere
To propogate their states: amongst them all,
Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd,
One do I personate of lord Timon's frame,
Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to
her;
[vants
Whose present grace to present slaves and ser-
Translates his rivals.

Puin. 'Tis conceiv'd to scope. [thinks,
This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, me-
With one man beckon'd from the rest below,
Bowing his head against the steepy mount
To climb his happiness, would be well ex-
In our condition.
[press'd

Poet. Nay, Sir, but hear me on:
All those which were his fellows but of late,
(Some better than his value,) on the moment
Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tend-

ance,

Rain sacrificial whisperings|| in his ear,

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Ven. Serv. Your lordship ever binds him. Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his [me:And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after.-Fare you well. Ven. Serv. All happiness to your honour! [Erit.

Enter an old ATHENIAN.

Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak.
Tim. Freely, good father.

Old Ath. Thou hast a servant nam'd Lu-
cilius.

Tim. I have so: What of him?

Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.

Tim. Attends he here, or no?-Lucilius!

Enter LUCILIUS.

Luc. Here, at your lordship's service.
Old Ath. This fellow here, lord Timon, this
thy creature,

By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first have been inclin'd to thrift;
And my estate deserves an heir more rais'd,
Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim. Well; what further?

Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin
else,

On whom I may confer what I have got:
The maid is fair, o'the youngest for a bride,
And I have bred her at my dearest cost,
In qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her love: I pr'ythee, noble lord,
Join with me to forbid him her resort;

Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him Myself have spoke in vain.

Drink the free air.

Pain. Ay, marry, what of these?
Poet. When Fortune, in her shift and change
[ants,

of mood,

Spurns down her late belov'd, all his depend-
Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top,
Even on their knees and hands, let him slip
down,

Not one accompanying his declining foot.
Pain. "Tis common:

A thousand moral paintings I can show
That shall demonstrate these quick blows of
fortune

More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well,
To show lord Timon, that mean eyes

The foot above the heal.

have [seen

Tim. The man is honest.

Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon:
It must not bear my daughter.
His honesty rewards him in itself,

Tim. Does she love him?
Our own precedent passions do instruct us
Old Ath. She is young, and apt:
What levity's in youth.

Tim. [To LUCILIUS.] Love you the maid?
Luc. Ay, my good lord, and she accepts
of it.

Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be
missing,

I call the gods to witness, I will choose
Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
And dispossess her all.

Tim. How shall she be endow'd,
If she be mated with an equal husband?
Old Ath. Three talents, on the present; in
future, all.

Tim. This gentleman of mine hath serv'd me

long;

To build his fortune, I will strain a little,
For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daugh

ter:

What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,
And make him weigh with her.

« Previous Continue »

Books

The dramatic works of William Shakspere, from the text of Johnson, Stevens ...