Farewel, kind Charmian;-Iras, long farewel.

[Kisses them. Iras falls, and dies.

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?

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 speak! That I might hear thee call great Cæsar, ass Unpolicied!

Char. O eastern star!

Cleo.

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. [Falls on a bed, and dies.

What should I stay

Char. 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;
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. 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: Cæsar's beguil❜d.

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

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

Char. It is well done, and fitting for a princess Descended of so many royal kings.

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 Cæsar.

Enter Cæsar, and Attendants.

Dol. O, sir, you are too sure an augurer; That you did fear, is done.

Cæs.

Brav'st 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

This Charmian liv'd 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.

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.

1 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.

Cæs.

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
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 shall,
In solemn show, attend this funeral;

And then to Rome.-Come, Dolabella, see
High order in this great solemnity.

[Exeunt.