Appendix II . THE DEATH OF CLEOPATRA (p. 27 ).

The death of Cleopatra as described by Plutarch took hold of the imagination of posterity, and was dramatised by Shakespeare and by Dryden.

(i). Plutarch. (in North’s Translation which Shakespeare used).

Her death was very sodain. For those whom Caesar sent unto her ran thither in all haste possible, and found the soldiers standing at the gate, mistrusting nothing, nor understanding of her death. But when they had opened the doors, they found Cleopatra stark dead, laid upon a bed of gold, attired and arrayed in her royal robes, and one of her two women, which was called Iras, dead at her feet: and her other woman called Charmian half dead, and trembling, trimming the diadem which Cleopatra wore upon her head. One of the soldiers seeing her, angrily said to her: Is that well done, Charmian? Very well said she again, and meet for a princess descended of so many royal kings. She said no more, but fell down dead hard by the bed.

(ii). Shakespeare. (Antony and Cleopatra, Act V, Scene 2)

Cleopatra. 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 Caesar, 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.

Have I the aspic 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 desired. Dost thou lie still?

If thus thou vanishest, thou tell’st the world

It is not worth leave-taking.

Charmian. Dissolve thick cloud and rain; that I may say

The gods themselves do weep.

Cleopatra. This proves me base:

If she meet first the curled Antony

He’ll make demand of her, and spend that kiss

Which is my heaven to have. Come thou mortal wretch

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 Caesar ass

Unpolicied.

Charmian. O eastern star!

Cleopatra. Peace, peace!

Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,

That sucks the nurse asleep?

Charmian. O, break! O, break!

Cleopatra. As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle—

O Antony!—Nay, I will take thee too.

What should I stay— (dies).

Charmian. In this vile world? So, fare thee well.

Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies

A lass unparallel’d. Downy windows, close;

And golden Phœbus never be beheld

Of eyes again so royal! Your crown’s awry;

I’ll mend it, and then play.

First Guard. Where is the queen?

Charmian. Speak softly, wake her not.

First Guard. Caesar hath sent—

Charmian. Too slow a messenger.

O! come apace, dispatch; I partly feel thee.

First Guard. Approach, ho! All’s not well; Caesar’s beguil’d.

Second Guard. There’s Dolabella sent from Caesar; call him.

First Guard. What work is this? Charmian, is this well done?

Charmian. It is well done and fitting for a princess

Descended of so many royal kings.

Ah! Soldier.

(iii). Dryden. (All for Love, Act. V Scene I).

Charmian. To what end

These ensigns of your Pomp and Royalty?

Cleopatra. Dull that thou art! why, ’tis to meet my Love;

As when I saw him first, on Cydno’s bank,

All sparkling, like a goddess; so adorned,

I’ll find him, once again: my second spousals

Shall match my first in glory. Haste, haste, both,

And dress the bride of Antony.

Charmian. ’Tis done.

Cleopatra. Now set me by my lord. I claim this place:

For I must conquer Caesar too, like him,

And win my share o’ th’ world. Hail, you dear relics

Of my immortal love!

O let no impious hand remove you hence;

But rest for ever here. Let Egypt give

His death that peace, which it denied his life.

Reach me the casket.

Iras. Underneath the fruit

The aspic lies.

Welcome, thou kind deceiver!

Cleopatra.

Thou best of thieves; who, with an easy key,

Dost open life, and, unperceived by us,

Ev’n steal us from ourselves; discharging so

Death’s dreadful office, better than himself,

Touching our limbs so gently into slumber,

That Death stands by, deceived by his own image,

And thinks himself but sleep.

Serapion (within). The Queen, where is she?

The town is yielded, Caesar’s at the gates.

Cleopatra. He comes too late t’invade the rights of death.

Haste, bare my arm, and rouse the serpent’s fury.

Coward flesh—

Would’st thou conspire with Caesar to betray me,

As thou wert none of mine? I’ll force thee to it

And not be sent by him,

But bring myself my soul to Antony.

Take hence; the work is done.

Serapion (within). Break ope the door

And guard the traitor well.

Charmian. The next is ours.

Iras. Now, Charmian, be too worthy

Of our great queen and mistress.

Cleopatra. Already, death, I feel thee in my veins;

I go with such a will to find my lord,

That we shall quickly meet.

A heavy numbness creeps through every limb,

And now ’tis at my head: my eyelids fail

And my dear love is vanished in a mist.

Where shall I find him, where? O turn me to him,

And lay me on his breast—Caesar, thy worst;

Now part us if thou canst.

Two Priests. Behold, Serapion, what havoc death hath made.

Serapion. ’Twas what I feared. Charmian, is this well done?

Charmian. Yes, ’tis well done, and like a queen, the last

Of her great race: I follow her.