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Cleo. O Cæsar! what a wounding shame is 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 Cæsar, That I some lady trifles have reserv'd, Immoment toys, things of such dignity As we greet modern friends' withal; and say, Some nobler token I have kept apart For Livia, and Octavia, to induce Their mediation, must I be unfolded With one that I have breds? The gods! it smites me Beneath the fall I have. Pr’ythee, go hence;
[To SELEUCUS. Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits Through th' ashes of my chance.- Wert thou a man, Thou would'st have mercy on me. Cæs.
[Exit SELEUCUS. Cleo. Be it known, that we, the greatest, are mis
7 — MODERN friends-] i. e. coinmon friends ; a use of the word of which we have had various previous examples. See Vol. vi. p. 443, &c.
& With one that I have bred ?] We should now say, “ By one,” &c.: another instance of licence in the old use of prepositions.
we have had me that I haxold us
Our care and pity is so much upon you,
Cleo. My master, and my lord !
Not so. Adieu. [Flourish. Exeunt CÆSAR, and his Train. Cleo. He words me, girls, he words me, that I should
not Be noble to myself: but hark thee, Charmian.
Hie thee again :
Madam, I will.
Behold, sir. sErit CHARMIAN Cleo.
I your servant.
what think'st thou?
Uplift us to the view: in their thick breaths,
The gods forbid !
0, the good gods! Cleo. Nay, that is certain.
Iras. I'll never see it; for, I am sure, my nails
Why, that's the way
leave To play till dooms-day.-Bring our crown and all. Wherefore's this noise ?
[Exit Iras. A noise within.
Enter one of the Guard. Guard.
Here is a rural fellow,
SIRRAH, Iras, go.] In Vol. iv. p. 236, we have seen “sirrah” used otherwise than derogatorily : here we find it also applied to a woman, but of course as a mere expletive. Steevens produced an instance from Arthur Hall's translation of Homer (from the French) where Hector addresses the “ maids” of Andromache as Sirs.
That will not be denied your highness' presence:
Re-enter Guard, with a Clown bringing in a Basket.
This is the man.
[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, 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.
Cleò. Get thee hence: farewell.
[Clown sets down the Basket. Clown. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind.
Cleo. Ay, ay; farewell.
in the keeping of wise people; for, indeed, 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.
Cleo. Well, get thee gone: farewell.
Re-enter IRAS, with a Robe, Crown, fc. Cleo. Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me. Now, no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip.Yare, yare, good Iras; quick.—Methinks, I hear 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 I give to baser life. So,-have you done? Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. Farewell, kind Charmian : Iras, long farewell.
[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 tellst the world It is not worth leave-taking.