Iras. Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are for the dark.

Cleo.

Hie thee again:

I have spoke already, and it is provided;

Go, put it to the hafte.

Dol. Madam, as thereto fworn by your command,
Which my love makes religion to obey,

I tell you this: Cæfar through Syria
Intends his journey; and, within three days,
You with your children will he send before:
Make your beft ufe of this: I have perform'd
Your pleasure, and my promife.

Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Cæfar.

Cleo. Farewell, and thanks. [Exit DOLA.] Now, Iras, what think'st thou ?

Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown
In Rome, as well as I: mechanick flaves
With greafy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall
Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths,
Rank of grofs diet, fhall we be enclouded,
And forc'd to drink their vapour.

Iras.

The gods forbid !

Cleo. Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: Saucy lictors

Will catch at us, like ftrumpets; and scald rhymers
Ballad us out o' tune: the quick comedians
Extemporally will stage us, and prefent

Our Alexandrian revels; Antony

Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see
Some fqueaking Cleopatra boy my greatness

I' the posture of a whore.

Iras.

O the good gods!

Cleo. Nay, that is certain.

Iras. I'll never see it; for, I am sure, my nails Are ftronger than mine eyes.

Cleo.

Why, that's the way

To fool their preparation, and to conquer

Their most abfurd intents.-Now, Charmian ?—

Enter CHARMIAN.

Show me, my women, like a queen ;—Go fetch
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 haft done this chare, I'll give thee leave
To play till dooms-day.-Bring our crown and all.
Wherefore's this noise?

Guard.

[Exit IRAS. A noise within.

Enter one of the Guard.

Here is a rural fellow,

That will not be deny'd your highness' presence;

He brings you figs.

Cleo. Let him come in. How poor an inftrument

May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty.
My refolution's plac'd, and I have nothing

[Exit Guard.

Of

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.

[Exit Guard.

Cleo. Avoid, and leave him.

Haft 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 defire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal; thofe, that do die of it, do feldom 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 fomething 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 faved by half that they do: But this is moft fallible, the worm's an odd worm.

Cleo. Get thee hence; farewell.

Clown. I wish you all joy of the worm.

Cleo. Farewell.

[Clown fets 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 wife people; for, indeed, there is no goodness in the worm.

Cleo. Take thou no care; it shall be heeded.

Clown.

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 fimple, 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 drefs her not. But, truly, thefe fame whorefon 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.

Clown. Yes, forfooth; I wish you joy of the worm.

Re-enter IRAS, with a robe, crown, &c.

[Exit.

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 fee him roufe himself

To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
The luck of Cæfar, which the gods give men
To excufe their after wrath: Hufband, I come :
Now to that name my courage prove my title!
I am fire, and air; my other elements

I give to bafer life.-So,-have you done?
Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips.
Farewell, kind Charmian ;—Iras, long farewell.

[Kifles them. IRAS falls and dies.

Have I the afpick in my lips? Dolt fall?
If thou and nature can fo gently part,

The ftroke of death is as a lover's pinch,
Which hurts, and is defir'd.

Doft thou lie ftill?