Now to that name my courage prove my title !
I am fire, and air; my other elements
I give to baser life.-S0,-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 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 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, could'st thou speak !
That I might hear thee call great Cæsar, 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;

[Applying another Asp to her arm. What should I stay

[Falls on a bed and dies. Charmian. In this wild world ?-So, fare thee well.Now boast thee, death! in thy possession lies A lass unparallel'd.—Downy windows, close : And golden Phoebus never be beheld Of

eyes again so royal ! Your crown's awry; I'll mend it, and then play.

Enter the Guard, rushing in. ist. Guard. Where is the queen ? Charmian.

Speak softly, wake her not. Ist. Guard. Cæsar hath sent. Charmian.

Too slow a messenger.

[Applies the Asp. O come ; apace, despatch; I partly feel thee. ist. Guard. Approach, ho! All's not well; Cæsar's

beguiled. 2nd. Guard. There's Dolabella sent from Cæsar ;-call

him. Ist. Guard. What work is here ?-Charmian, is this well

done ? Charmian. It is well done, and fitting for a princess Descended of so many royal kings. Ah, soldier !

[Dies.

Enter DOLABELLA. Dolabella. How goes it here? 2nd. Guard.

All dead. Dolabella.

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, way for Cæsar !

Enter CÆSAR, and attendants.
Dolabella. O sir, you are too sure an augurer;
That you did fear, is done.
Cæsar.

Bravest at the last;
She levell’d at our purposes, and, being royal,
Took her own way.—The manner of their deaths ?
I do not see them bleed.
Dolabella.

Who was last with them? ist. Guard. A simple countryman, that brought her

figs; This was his basket. Cæsar.

Poison'd then.
Ist. Guard.

O Cæsar,
This Charmian lived but now; she stood, and spake;
I found her trimming up the diadem
On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood,
And on the sudden dropp'd.
Cæsar.

O noble weakness !
If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear
By external swelling, but she looks like sleep,
As she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil of grace.
Dolabella.

Here, on her breast,
There is a vent of blood, and something blown :
The like is on her arm.
ist. Guard. This is an aspick's trail : and these fig

leaves
Have slime upon them, such as the aspick leaves
Upon the caves of Nile.
Cæsar.

Most probable
That so she died; for her physician tells me,
She hath pursu'd conclusions infinite

Of easy ways to die.—Take up her bed;
And bear her women from the monument :
She shall be buried by her Antony :
No grave upon the earth shall clip in it
A pair so famous. High events as these
Strike those that make them : and their story is
No less in pity, than his glory, which
Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall,
In solemn show, attend this funeral ;
And then to Rome.—Come, Dolabella, see
High order in this great solemnity.

CLAUDIUS, King of Denmark.
HAMLET, Son to the former, and nephew to the present King.
LAERTES, Son to Polonius, Lord Chamberlain.
GERTRUDE, Queen of Denmark, and mother to Hamlet.
OPHELIA, Daughter to Polonius.

Ophelia.
WHAT a noble mind is here oʻerthrown !
The courtier's, scholar's, soldier's eye, tongue,

sword :

The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, The observd of all observers ! quite, quite down ! And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, That suck'd the honey of his musick vows, Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh; That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth, Blasted with ecstasy : O, woe is me! To have seen what I have seen, see what I see !

ACT IV. SCENE V.

Laertes. How now! what noise is that ?