[Exit. Cleo. Dolabella! Dol. Madam, as thereto sworn by your command, Which my love makes religion to obey, I tell you this: Cæsar 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. Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see O, the good gods! Cleo. Nay, that is certain. Iras. I'll never see it; for, I am sure, my nails Are stronger than mine eyes. Cleo. Why, that's the way To fool their preparation, and to conquer Their most absurd intents. 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. Cleo. Get thee hence; farewell. Cleo. Farewell. [Sets down the basket. Clown. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind. Cleo. Aỳ, ay; farewell. Clown. Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but 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. Clown. Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy of the [Exit. worm. Re-enter IRAS, with a robe, crown, &c. To praise my noble act; I hear him mock I give to baser life.-So,-have you done? 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, thou mortal wretch, [To an asp, which she applies to her breast. With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool, 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. Of eyes again so royal!--Your crown's awry; Enter the Guard, rushing in. Speak softly, wake her not. O, come apace, despatch: I I Guard. Approach, ho! beguil❜d. Too slow a messenger. [Applies an as. partly feel thee. All's not well: Cæsar's 2 Guard. There's Dolabella sent from Cæsar; cali him. I 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. Ah, soldier! Dol. How goes it here? 2 Guard. Dol. [Dies. Re-enter DOLabella. All dead. Cæsar, 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! a way for Cæsar! Most probable That so she died; for her physician tells me, Our army shall, [Exeunt I Gent. I do extend him, Sir, within himself; Crush him together, rather than unfold His measure duly. 2 Gent. What's his name, and birth? I Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: his father Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour, Against the Romans, with Cassibelan; But had his titles by Tenantius, whom He serv'd with glory and admir'd success,So gain'd the sur-addition, Leonatus: Ana had, besides this gentleman in question, Two other sons, who, in the wars o' the time, father (Then old and fond of issue) took such sorrow, |