« VorigeDoorgaan »
It does, my lord.
Ant. My good knave* Eros, now thy captain is
Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us
DESCRIPTION OF CLEOPATRA's supposed DEATH.
Then in the midst a tearing groan did break
Between her heart and lips: she render'd life,
CLEOPATRA'S REFLECTIONS ON THE DEATH OF
It were for me
To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods;
Ere death dare come to us?-How do you, women?
Our lamp is spent, it's out:-Good sirs, take heart :--
This case of that huge spirit now is cold.
My desolation does begin to make A better life: 'Tis paltry to be Cæsar; Not being fortune, he's but fortune's knave*, A minister of her will: And it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds; Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change; Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung, The beggar's nurse and Cæsar's.
CLEOPATRA'S DREAM, AND DESCRIPTION OF ANTONY. Cleo. I dream'd, there was an emperor Antony;O, such another sleep, that I might see
But such another man!
If it might please you,
Cleo. His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck
A sun, and moon; which kept their course, and The little O, the earth.
Most sovereign creature,― Cleo. His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm Crested the world: his voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas, + Crush.
That grew the more by reaping: His delights Were dolphin-like: they show'd his back above The element they liv'd in: In his livery
Walk'd crowns, and crownets; realms and islands As plates* dropp'd from his pocket.
How poor an instrument
May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty.
CLEOPATRA'S SPEECH ON APPLYING THE ASP.
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have
To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
+ Make haste.
Char. Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may The gods themselves do weep!
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, couldst thou speak! That I might hear thee call great Cæsar, ass
O eastern star!
O, break! O, break!
Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
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 wild world?-So, fare thee well.— Now boast thee, death! in thy possession lies A lass unparallel'd.
WHAT Would you have, you curs,
That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you,
* Unpolitic, to leave me to myself.
The other makes you proud. He that trusts you,
Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is,
To make him worthy, whose offence subdues him,
AN IMAGINARY DESCRIPTION OF CORIOLANUS
Methinks. I hear hither your husband's drum;
Vir. His bloody brow! O, Jupiter, no blood! Vol. Away, you fool! it more becomes a man, Than gilt his trophy. The breasts of Hecuba, When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier Than Hector's forehead, when it spit forth blood At Grecian swords contending.