The poeticall essayes of Sam. Danyel

THE TRAGEDIE OF CLEOPATRA.

ACTVS PRIMVS.

CLEOPATRA.

YET do I liue, and yet doth breath extend My life beyond my life, nor can my graue Shut vp my griefes, to make my end my end? Will yet confusion haue more then I haue? Is th' honor, wonder, glory, pompe and all Of Cleopatra dead, and she not dead? Haue I out-liu'd my selfe, and seene the fall Of all vpon me, and not ruined? Can yet these eyes endure the gastly looke Of desolations darke and ougly face, Wont but on fortunes fairest side to looke, Where nought was but applause, but smiles, and grace? Whiles on his shoulders all my rest relide On whom the burthen of m'ambition lay, My Atlas, and supporter of my pride That did the world of all my glory sway, Who now thrown down, disgrac'd, confoūded lies Crusht with the weight of shame and infamie, Following th' vnlucky party of my eies, The traines of lust and imbecilitie,

Whereby my dissolution is become The graue of AEgypt and the wracke of all; My vnforeseeing weakenesse must intoome My Countries fame and glory with my fall.

Now who would think that I were she who late With all the ornaments on earth inrich'd, Enuiron'd with delights, compast with state, Glittering in pomp that harts and eies bewitch'd; Should chus distrest, cast down from of that heigth Leuell'd with low disgrac'd calamitie, Vnder the waight of such affliction sigh, Reduc'd vnto th'extreamest miserie?

Am I the woman whose inuentiue pride, Adorn'd like Isis, skornd mortalitie? Is't I would haue my frailty so belide That flattery could perswade I was notd? Well now I see they but delude that praise vs, Greatnesse is mockt, prosperitie betraies vs. And we are but our selues, although this clowd Of interposed smokes make vs seeme more: These spreading parts of pompe wherof w'are prou'd, Are not our parts, but parts of others store: Witnesse these gallant fortune-following traines, These Summer Swallowes of felicitie Gone with the heate, of all see what remaines, This monument, two maides, and wretched I.

And I t'adorne their triumphs am reseru'd. A captiue, kept to honor others spoiles, Whom Caesar labors so to haue preseru'd, And seekes to entertaine my life with wiles. But Caesar, it is more then thou canst do, Promise, flatter, threaten extremitie, Imploy thy wits and all thy force thereto, I haue both hands, and will, and I can die. Though thou of both my country and my crown, Of powre, of means & al doost quite bereaue me; Though thou hast wholy Egypt made thine own, Yet hast thou left me that which will deceiue thee. That courage with my bloud and birth innated, Admir'd of all the earth as thou art now, Can neuer be so abiectly abated To be thy Slaue that rull'd as good as thou. Thinke Caesar I that liu'd and raign'd a Queene, Doe skorne to buy my life at such a rate, That I should vnder neath my selfe be seene, Basely induring to suruiue my state: That Rome should see my scepter-bearing hands Behind me bound, and glory in my teares, That I should passe whereas Octauia stands, To view my misery that purchas'd hers. No, I disdaine that head which wore a crowne Should stoope to take vp that which others giue;

I must not be, vnlesse I be mine owne. Tis sweet to die when we are forc'd to liue, Nor had I staide behind my selfe this space, Nor paid such intrest for this borrow'd breath, But that hereby I seeke to purchase grace For my distressed seed after my death. It's that which doth my deerest bloud controule, That's it alas detaines me from my tombe, VVhiles nature brings to contradict my soule The argument of mine vnhappy wombe.

You luckles issue of an wofull mother, The wretched pledges of a wanton bed, You Kings design'd, must subiects liue to other; Or else, I feare, scarse liue, when I am dead. It is for you I temporize with Caesar, And staie this while to mediate your saftie: For you I faine content and sooth his pleasure, Calamity herein hath made me craftie. But this is but to trie what may be done, For come what will, this stands, I must die free, And die my selfe vncaptiu'd, and vnwon. Bloud, Children, Nature, all must pardon me. My soule yeelds honor vp the victory, And I must be a Queene, forget a mother, Though mother would I be, were I not I; And Queene would not be now, could I be other.

But what know I if th' heauens haue de cred, And that the sinnes of AEgypt haue deseru'd The Ptolomies should faile and none succeed, And that my weakenes was thereto reseru'd That I should bring confusion to my state, And fill the measure of iniquitie, Luxuriousnesse in me should raise the rate Of loose and ill-dispensed libertie. If it be so, then what neede these delaies? Since I was made the meanes of miserie: Why shuld I striue but to make death my praise, That had my life but for my infamie? And let me write in letters of my bloud A fit memoriall for the times to come, To be example to such Princes good As please themselues and care not what becom.

And Antony, because the world takes note That my defects haue only ruin'd thee: And my ambitious practises are thought The motiue and the cause of all to be: Though God thou know'st, how iust this staine is laid Vpon my soule, whom ill successe makes ill: Yet since condemn'd misfortune hath no ayd Against proud luck that argues what it will, I haue no meanes to vndeceiue their mindes, But to bring in the witnesse of my bloud,

To testifie the faith and loue that bindes My equall shame, to fall with whom I stood. Defects I grant I had, but this was worst, That being the first to fall I dy'd not first.

Though I perhaps could lighten mine own side With some excuse of my constrained case Drawn down with powre: but that were to deuide My shame: to stand alone in my disgrace. To cleere me so, would shew m'affections naught, And make th'excuse more hainous then the fault. Since if I should our errours disunite, I should confound afflictions onely rest, That from stearn death euen steales a sad delight To die with friends or with the like distrest; And since we tooke of either such firme hold In th'ouerwhelming seas of fortune cast, What powre should be of powre to reunfold The armes of our affections lockt so fast, For grapling in the ocean of our pride, We sunke each others greatnesse both together; And both made shipwracke of our fame beside, Both wrought a like destruction vnto either: And therefore I am bound to sacrifice To death and thee, the life that doth reproue me: Our like distresse I feele doth simpathize, And euen affliction makes me truly loue thee.

Which Antony, I must confesse my fault I neuer did sincerely vntill now: Now I protest I do, now am I taught In death to loue, in life that knew not how. For whilst my glory in her greatnesse stood, And that I saw my state and knew my beautie; Saw how the world admir'd me, how they woo'd, I then thought all men must loue me of dutie; And I loue none: for my lasciuious Court, Fertile in euer fresh and new-choise pleasure, Affoorded me of so bountifull disport That I to stay on loue had neuer leasure: My vagabond desires no limits found, For lust is endlesse, pleasure hath no bound.

Thou comming from the strictnes of thy City, And neuer this loose pomp of monarchs learnest, Inu'rd to wars, in womens wiles vnwitty, Whilst others faynd, thou fell'st to loue in earnest; Not knowing how we like them best that houer, And make least reckning of a doting louer.

And yet thou cam'st but in my beauties waine, When new appearing wrinkles of declining Wrought with the hand of yeers, seem'd to detain My graces light, as now but dimly shining Euen in the confines of mine age, when I Failing of what I was, and was but thus;

When such as we do deeme in iealousie That men loue for themselues and not for vs, Then and but thus, thou didst loue most sincerely O Antony, that best deseru'st it better, This Autumne of my beauty bought so dearely, For which in more then death, I stand thy debter, Which I will pay thee with so true a mind, (Casting vp all these deepe accoumpts of mine) That both our soules, and all the world shall find All recknings cleer'd, betwixt my loue and thine.

But to the end I may preuent proud Caesar, Who doth so eagerly my life importune, I must preuaile me of this little leasure, Seeming to sute my mind vnto my fortune; Thereby with more conuenience to prouide For what my death and honor best shall fit: An yeelding base content must wary hide My last dissigne till I accomplish it, That hereby yet the world shall see that I, Although vnwise to liue had wit to die.

Exit.

CHORVS,

Behold what furies still Torment their tortur'd brest, Who by their doing ill, Haue wrought the worlds vnrest. Which when being most distrest, Yet more to vex their sp'rite, The hidious face of sinne, (In formes they must detest) Stands euer in their sight. Their conscience still within Th'eternall larum is That euer-barking dog that calles vpon their misse.

No meanes at all to hide Man from himselfe can finde: No way to start aside Out from the hell of minde. But in himselfe confin'd, He still sees sinne before: And winged-footed paine, That swiftly comes behind, The which is euer-more,

The sure and certaine gaine Impietie doth get, And wanton loose respect, that dooth it selfe forget.

And Cleopatra now, Well sees the dangerous way She tooke, and car'd not how, Which led her to decay. And likewise makes vs pay For her disordred lust, The int'rest of our blood: Or liue a seruile pray, Vnder a hand vniust, As others shall thinke good. This hath her riot wunne, And thus she hath her state, herselfe and vs vndunne.

Now euery mouth can tell, What close was muttered: How that she did not well, To take the course she did. For now is nothing hid, Of what feare did restraine. No secrete closelie done, But now is vttered. The text is made most plaine

That flattry glos'd vpon, The bed of sinne reueal'd And all the luxurie that shame would haue conceal'd.

The scene is broken downe, And all vncou'red lyes, The purple actors knowne Scarce man, whom men despise. The complots of the wise, Proue imperfections smoake: And all what wonder gaue To pleasure-gazing eyes, Lyes scattred, dasht, all broke. Thus much beguiled haue Poore vnconsiderate wights, These moment arie pleasures, fugitiue delights.

ACTVS SECVNDVS:

CAESAR. PROCVLEIVS.

KIngdoms I see we winne, we conquere Climates, Yet cannot vanquish hearts, nor force obedience, Affections kept in close-concealed limits, Stand farre without the reach of sworde or violence.

Who forc'd do pay vs dutie, pay not loue: Free is the heart, the temple of the minde, The Sanctuarie sacred from aboue, Where nature keeps the keies that loose & bind. No mortall hand force open can that doore, So close shut vp, and lockt to all mankind: I see mens bodies onely ours, no more, The rest, anothers right, that rules the minde.

Behold, my forces vanquisht haue this Land, Subdu'd that strong Competitor of mine: All Egypt yeelds to my all-conqu'ring hand, And all their treasure and themselues resigne. Onely this Queene, that hath lost all this all, To whom is nothing left except a minde: Cannot into a thought of yeelding fall, To be dispos'd as chance hath her assign'd. But Proculei, what hope doth she now giue, Will shee be brought to condiscend to liue?

Proc.

My Lord, what time being sent frō you to try To win her forth aliue (if that I might) From out the Monument, where wofully She liues inclos'd in most aficted plight: No way I found, no means how to surprize her, But through a grate at th'entry of the place Standing to treat, llabour'd to aduise her, To come to Caesar, and to sue for grace.

She said, she crau'd not life, but leaue to die, Yet for her children, pray'd they might inherite, That Caesar would vouchsafe (in clemencie) To pittie them, though she deseru'd no merite. So leauing her for then; and since of late, With Gallus sent to trie another time, The whilst he entertaines her at the grate, I found the meanes vp to the Tombe to clime. Where in descending in the closest wise, And silent manner as I could contriue: Her woman me descri'd, and out she cries, Poore Cleopatra, thou art tane aliue. With that the Queen raught from her side her knife, And euen in act to stab her martred brest, I stept with speede, and held, and sau'd her life, And forth her trembling hād the blade did wrest. Ah Cleopatra, why shouldst thou, (said I) Both iniurie thy selfe and Caesar so? Barre him the honour of his victorie, Who euer deales most mildly with his foe? Liue and relie on him, whose mercie will To thy submission alwayes readie be.

With that (as all amaz'd) she held her still, Twixt maiestie confuz'd and miserie. Her proud grieu'd eyes, held sorow and disdaine, State and distresse warring within her soule: Dying ambition dispossest her raigne,

So base affliction seemed to controule. Like as a burning Lampe, whose liquour spent With intermitted flames, when dead you deem it, Sendes forth a dying flash, as discontent, That so the matter failes that should redeeme it: So shee (in spight) to see her low-brought state, (When all her hopes were now consum'd to nought) Scornes yet to make an abiect league with Fate, Or once descend into a seruile thought. Th'imperious tongue vnused to beseech, Authoritie confounds with prayers, so Words of cōmand conioin'd with humble speech, Shew'd she would liue, yet scorn'd to pray her foe.

Ah, what hath Caesar here to doe, said she, In confines of the dead in darknes lying? Will he not grant our sepulchres be free, But violate the priuiledge of dying? VVhat, must he stretch forth his ambitious hand Into the right of Death, and force vs here? Hath miserie no couert where to stand Free from the storme of pride, ist safe no where? Cannot my land, my gold, my crowne suffise, And all what I held deere, to him made common, But that he must in this fortty tyrannize, Th'afflicted bodie of an wofull woman? Tell him, my frailtie, and the Gods haue giuen Sufficient glorie, if he could content him:

And let him now with his desires make euen, And leaue me to this horror, to lamenting. Now he hath taken all away from mee, VVhat must he take me from my selfe by force? Ah, let him yet (in mercie) leaue me free The kingdome of this poore distressed corse. No other crowne I seeke, no other good. Yet wish that Caesar would vouchsafe this grace, To fauour the poore ofspring of my blood. Confused issue, yet of Roman race. If blood and name be links of loue in Princes, Not spurres of hate; my poore Caesario may Finde fauour notwithstanding mine offences, And Caesars blood, may Caesars raging stay. But if that with the torrent of my fall, All must be rapt with furious violence, And no respect, nor no regard at all, Can ought with nature or with blood dispence: Then be it so, if needes it must be so. There stayes and shrinkes in horror of her state: VVhen I began to mitigate her woe, And thy great mercies vnto her relate; VVishing her not despaire, but rather come And sue for grace, and shake off all vaine feares: No doubt she should obtaine as gentle doome As she desir'd, both for, her selfe and hers. And so with much a-do, (well pacifide

Seeming to be,) she shew'd content to liue, Saying she was resolu'd thy doome t'abide, And to accept what fauour thou would'st giue, And here-with all, crau'd also, that she might Performe her last rites to her lost belou'd. To sacrifice to him that wrought her plight: And that shee might not be by force remou'd. I granting from thy part this her request, Left her for then, seeming in better rest.

Caes.

But dost thou thinke she will remaine so still?

Pro.

I thinke and do assure my selfe she will.

Caes.

Ah, priuat men sound not the harts of princes, Whose actions oft beare contrarie pretences.

Pro.

Why, tis her safetie for to yeeld to thee.

Caes.

But tis more honour for her to die free.

Pro.

She may thereby procure her childrens good.

Caes.

Princes respect their honor more then blood.

Pro.

Can princes powre dispence with nature thā?

Caes.

To be a prince, is more then be a man.

Pro.

There's none but haue in time perswaded beene.

Caes.

And so might she too, were she not a Queene.

Pro.

Diuers respects will force her be reclaim'd.

Caes.

Princes (like Lyons) neuer will be tarn'd. A priuate man may yeeld, and care not how, But greater hearts will breake before they bow. And sure I thinkesh' will neuer condiscend, To liue to grace our spoiles with her disgrace:

But yet let still a wary watch attend, To guard her person, and to watch the place. And looke that none with her come to confer: Shortly my selfe will go to visite her.

CHORVS.

OPINION, how doost thou molest Th'affected minde of restles man? Who following thee neuer can, Nor euer shall attaine to rest, For getting what thou saist is best, Yet loe, that best he findes farre wide Of what thou promisedst before: For in the same he lookt for more, Which proues but smal whē once tis tride Then something else thou find st beside, To draw him stil frō thought to thought: When in the end all proues but nought. Farther from rest hee findes him than, Then at the first when he began.

O malecontent seducing guest, Contriuer of our greatest woes: Which born of wind, & fed with showes, Doost nurse thy selfe in thine vnrest. Iudging vngotten thinges the best,

Or what thou in conceit design'st. And all things in the world doost deeme, Not as they are, but as they seeme: Which shewes, their state thou ill defin'st: And liu'st to come, in present pin'st. For what thou hast, thou still doost lacke: O mindes tormentor, bodies wracke, Vaine promiser of that sweet rest, Which neuer anie yet possest.

If we vnto ambition tende, Then doost thou drawe our weakenes on, With vaine imagination Of that which neuer hath an ende. Or if that lust we apprehend, How doth that pleasant plague infest? O what strange formes of luxurie, Thou straight doost cast t'intice vs by? And tell'st vs that is euer best, Which we haue neuer yet possest. And that more pleasure rests beside, In something that we haue not tride. And when the same likewise is had, Then all is one, and all is bad.

This Antony can say is true, As Cleopatra knowes tis so,

By th'experience of their woe. Shee can say, she neuer knew But that lust found pleasures new, And was neuer satisfide: He can say by proofe of toile, Ambition is a Vulture vile, That feeds vpō the hart of pride: And finds no rest when all is tride. For worlds cannot confine the one, Th'other, lists and bounds hath none. And both subuert the minde, the state, Procure destruction, enuie, hate.

And now when all this is prou'd vaine, Yet Opinion leaues not heere, But sticks to Cleopatra neere, Perswading now, how she shall gaine Honour by death, and fame attaine. And what a shame it were to liue, Her kingdome lost, her Louer dead: And so with this perswasion led, Dispaire doth such a courage giue, That nought else can her mind relieue, Nor yet diuert her from that thought: To this conclusion all is brought. This is that rest this vaine world lends, To end in death that all things ends.

ACTVS TERTIVS.

PHILOSTRATVS. ARIVS.

HOW deepely Arius am I bound to thee, That sau'dst from death this wretched life of mine: Obtaining Caesars gentle grace for mee, When I of all helps else dispaird but thine? Although I see in such a wofull state, Life is not that which should be much desir'd: Sith all our glories come to end their date, Our Countries honour and our own expir'd. Now that the hand of wrath hath ouer-gone vs, Liuing (as 'twere) in th'armes of our dead mother, With bloud vnder our feet, ruine vpon vs, And in a Land most wretched of all other, When yet we reck on life our deerest good. And so we liue, we care not how we liue: So deepe we feele impressed in our blood, That touch which Nature with our breath did giue. And yet what blasts of words hath learning found, To blow against the feare of death and dying? What comforts vnsicke eloquence can sound, And yet all failes vs in the point of trying. For whilst we reason with the breath of safety, Without the compasse of destruction liuing: What precepts shew we then, what courage lofty

In taxing others feares in counsell giuing? When all this ayre of sweet-contriued words Proues but weake armour to defend the hart. For when this life, pale feare and terror boords, Where are our precepts then, where is our arte? O who is he that from himselfe can turne, That beares about the body of a man? Who doth not toile and labour to adiorne The day of death, by any meanes he can? All this I speake to th' end my selfe t'excuse, For my base begging of a seruile breath, Wherein I grant my selfe much to abuse, So shamefully to seek t'auoide my death.

Arius.

Philostratus, that selfe same care to liue, Possesseth all alike, and grieue not then Nature doth vs no more then others giue: Though we speak more then mē, we are but mē. And yet (in truth) these miseries to see, Wherein we stand in most extreame distresse: Might to our selues sufficient motiues be To loath this life, and weigh our death the lesse: For neuer any age hath better taught, What feeble footing pride and greatnesse hath. How' improuident prosperitie is caught, And cleane confounded in the day of wrath.' See how dismaid Confusion keepes those streetes, That nought but mirth and musique late resounded,

How nothing with our eie but horror meeres, Our state, our wealth, our pride and all confounded. Yet what weake sight did not discerne from far This black-arisingtempest, all confounding? Who did not see we should be what we are, When pride and ryot grew to such abounding. VVhen dissolute impietie possest Th'vnrespectiue mindes of prince, and people: VVhen infolent Security found rest In wanton thoughts, with lust & ease made feeble. Then when vnwary peace with fat-fed pleasure, New-fresh inuented ryots still detected, Purchac'd with all the Ptolomies ritch treasure, Our lawes, our gods, our mysteries neglected. VVho saw not how this confluence of vice, This inundation of disorders, must At length of force pay backe the bloody price Of sad destruction, (a reward for lust.) O thou and I haue heard, and read, and knowne Of like proude states, as wofully incombred, And fram'd by them, examples for our own: VVhich now among examples must be numbred. For this decree a law from high is giuen, An auncient Cannon, of eternall date, In Consistorie of the starres of heauen, Entred the booke of vnauoided Fate; That no state can in height of happinesse,

In th' exaltation of their glory stand: But thither once ariu'd, declining lesse, Ruine themselues, or fall by others hand. Thus doth the euer-changing course of things Runne a perpetuall circle, euer turning: And that same day that hiest glory brings, Brings vs vnto the point of back-returning. For sencelesse sensualitie, doth euer Accompany selicitie and greatnesse. A fatal witch, whose charmes do leaue vs neuer, Till we leaue all in sorrow for our sweetnesse; When yet our selues must be the cause we fall, Although the same befirst decreed on hie: Our errors still must beare the blame of all, This must it be, earth aske notheauen why.

Yet mighty men with wary iealous hand, Striue to cut off all obstacles of feare: All whatsoeuer seemes but to withstand Their least conceit of quiet, held so deere; And so intrench themselues with blood, with crimes, With all iniustice as their feares dispose: Yet for all this we see, how oftentimes The meanes they worke to keepe, are meanes to lose. And sure I cannot see, howe this can stand With great Augustus safety and his honor, To cut off all succession from our land, For her offence that puld the wars vpon her.

Phi.

Why must her issue pay the price of that?

Ari.

The price is life that they are rated at.

Phi.

Casario to, issued of Caesars blood?

Ari.

Pluralitie of Caesars are not good.

Phi.

Alas what hurt procures his feeble arme?

Ari.

Not for it doth, but that it may do harme.

Phi.

Then when it offers hurt, represse the same.

Ari.

Tis best to quench a sparke before it flame.

Phi.

Tis inhumane, an innocent to kill.

Ari.

Such innocents, sildome remaine so still. And sure his death may best procure our peace, Competitors the subiect deerely buies: And so that our affliction may surcease, Let great men be the peoples sacrifice. But see where Caesar comes himselfe, to try And worke the mind of our distressed Queene, To apprehend some falsed hope: whereby She might be drawn to haue her fortune seene. But yet I thinke, Rome will not see that face (That queld her champiōs,) blush in base disgrace.

SCENA SECVNDA.

CAESAR. CLEOPATRA, SELEVCVS, DOLABELLA.

Caes.

WHat Cleopatra, doost thou doubt so much Of Caesars mercy, that thou hid'st thy face?

Or dost thou thinke, thy' offences can be such, That they surmount the measure of our grace?

Cleo.

O Caesar, not for that I flie thy sight My soule this sad retyre of sorrow chose: But that my'oppressed thoghts abhorring light Like best in darknes, my disgrace t'inclose. And here to these close limits of despaire, This solitarie horror where I bide: Caesar, I thought no Roman should repaire, More after him, who here oppressed dyde. Yet now, here at thy conquering feete I lie, Poore captiue soul, that neuer thought to bow: Whose happie foote of rule and Maiestie Stood late on̄y same ground thou standest now.

Caes.

Rise Queene, none but thy selfis cause of all. And yet, would all were but thine owne alone: That others ruine had not with thy fall Brought Rome her sorowes, to my triumphs mone. For breaking off the league of loue and blood, Thou mak'st my winning ioy a gain vnpleasing: Sith th'eye of griefe must looke into our good, Thorow the horror of our own blood shedding. And all, we must attribute vnto thee.

Cleo.

To me? Caesar, what should a woman doe Opprest with greatnes? what was it for me To contradict my Lord, being bent thereto? I was by loue, by feare, by weakenes, made

An instrument to such disseignes as these. For when the Lord of all the Orient bade, Who but obey'd? who was not glad to please? And how could I withdraw my succouring hand From him that had my heart, and what was mine? The intrest of my faith in streightest band, My loue to his most firmly did combine.

Caes.

Loue? alas no, it was th'innated hatred That thou and thine hast euer born our people: That made thee seeke all means to haue vs scattred, To disunite our strenght and make vs feeble. And therefore did that brest nurse our dissentiō, With hope t'exalt thy selfe, t'augment thy state: To pray vppon the wracke of our contention, And (with the rest our foes,) to ioy thereat.

Cleo.

O Caesar, see how easie tis t'accuse Whom Fortune hath made faultie by their fall, The wretched conquered may not refuse The titles of reproch he's charg'd withall. The conquering cause hath right, wherein thou art, The vanquisht, still is iud'g the worser part. Which part is mine, because Ilost my part. No lesser then the portion of a Crowne. Enough for me, alas what needed arte To gaine by others, but to keepe mine owne? But here let weaker powers note what it is, To neighbour great Competitors too neere,

If we take part, we oft do perish thus, If neutrall bide, both parties we must feare. Alas, what shall the forst partakers doe, When folowing none, yet must they perish to? But Caesar, sith thy right and cause is such, Be not a heauie weight vpon calamitie: Depresse not the afflicted ouer-much, The chiefest glorie is the Victors lenitie. Th'in heritance of mercie from him take, Of whom thou hast thy fortune and thy name: Great Caesar me a Queene at first did make, And let not Caesar now confound the same, Read here these lines which still I keep with me, The witnes of his loue and fauours euer: And God forbid this should be said of thee, That Caesar wrong'd the fauoured of Caesar. For looke what I haue beene to Antonie, Think thou the same I might haue been to thee. And here I do present thee with the note Of all the treasure, all the iewels rare That Egypt hath in many ages got; And looke what Cleopatra hath, is there.

Seleus.

Nay there's not all set downe within that roule, I know some things she hath reseru'd apart.

Cleo.

What vile vngrateful wretch, dar'st thou cōtroule Thy Queen & soueraigne, caitife as thou art. (hands.

Caes.

Hold, holde; a poore reuenge can worke so feeble

Cleo.

Ah Caesar, what a great indignitie Is this, that here my vassall subiect stands T'accuse me to my Lord of trecherie? If I reseru'd some certaine womens toyes, Alas it was not for my selfe (God knowes,) Poore miserable soule, that little ioyes In trifling ornaments, in outward showes. But what I kept, I kept to make my way Vnto thy Liuia and Octauias grace, That thereby in compassion mooued, they Might mediate thy fauour in my case.

Caes.

Well Cleopatra, feare not, thou shalt finde What fauour thou desir'st, or canst expect: For Caesar neuer yet was found but kinde To such as yeeld, and can themselues subiect. And therefore giue thou comfort to thy minde; Relieue thy soule thus ouer charg'd with care, How well I will intreate thee thou shalt find, So soone as some affaires dispatched are. Til whē farewel. Cl. Thanks thrise-renowned Caesar, Poore Cleopatra rests thine owne for euer.

Dol.

No maruel Caesar though our greatest spirits, Haue to the powre of such a charming beautie Been brought to yeeld the honor of their merits? Forgetting all respect of other dutie. Then whilst the glory of her youth remain'd The wondring obiect to each wanton eye:

Before her full of sweet (with sorrow wain'd,) Came to the period of this miserie. If still, euen in the midst of death and horror Such beautie shines, thorow clouds of age & sorow, If euen those sweet decaies seeme to plead for her, Which from affliction mouing graces borrow: If in calamitie she could thus moue, What could she do adorn'd with youth and loue? What could she do then, when as spreading wide The pompe of beautie, in her glorie dight? When arm'd with wonder, she could vse beside, Th'ingines of her loue, Hope and Delight? Beautie daughter of Maruaile, ô see how Thou canst disgracing sorrowes sweetly grace. What power thou shew'st in a distressed brow, That mak'st affliction faire, giu'st tears their grace. What can vntressed locks, can torne rent haire, A weeping eye, a wailing face be faire? I see then, artlesse feature can content, And that true beautie needes no ornament.

Caes.

What in a passion Dolabella? what take heed: Let others fresh examples be thy warning; What mischiefes these, so idle humors breed, Whilst error keepes vs from a true discrening. In deed I saw she labour'd to impart Her sweetest graces in her saddest cheere: Presuming on the face that know the arre

To moue with what aspect so eu'r it were. But all in vaine, she takes her ayme amisse, The ground and marke, her leuel much deceiues; Time now hath altred all, for neither is She as she was, nor we as she conceiues. And therfore now, twere best she left such badnes, Folly in youth is sinne, in age, tis madnes.

And for my part, I seeke but t' entertaine In her some feeding hope to draw her forth; The greatest Trophey that my trauailes gaine, Is to bring home a prizall of such worth. And now, sith that she seemes so well content To be dispos'd by vs, without more stay She with her children shall to Rome be sent, Whilst I by Syria thither take my way

CHORVS,

O Fearefull frowning Nemesrs, Daughter of Iustice, most seuere, That art the worlds great arbitresse, And Queene of causes raigning heere. Whose swift-sure hand is euer neere Eternall iustice, righting wrong: Who neuer yet deserest long The proudes decay, the weakes redresse. But through thy power euery where,

Dost raze the great, and raise the lesse. The lesse made great dost ruine to, To shew the earth what heauen can do.

Thou from darke-clos'd eternitie, From thy black clowdy hidden seate, The worlds disorders dost descry: Which when they swel so proudly great, Reuersing th' order nature set, Thou giu'st thy all consounding doome, Which none can know before it come. Th' ineuitable destinie, Which neither wit nor strength can let, Fast chain'd vnto necessitie, In mortall things doth order so, Th' alternate course of weale or wo.

O how the powres of heauen do play With trauailed mortalitis: And doth their weakness still betray, In their best prosperitie? When being lifted up so hie, They looke beyond themselues so farre, That to themselues they take no care; Whilst swift confusion downe doth lay, Their late proude mounting vanitie: Bringing their glorie to decay,

And with the ruine of their fall, Extinguish people, state and all.

But is it iustice that all we The innocent poore multitude, For great mens faults should punisht be, And to destruction thus pursude? O why should th' heauens vs include, Within the compasse of their fall, Who of themselues procured all? Or do the Gods (in close) decree, Occasion take how to extrude Man from the earth with crueltie? Ah no, the Gods are euer iust, Our faults excuse their rigor must.

This is the period Fate set downe To Egypts fat prosperitie: Which now vnto her greatest growne, Must perish thus, by course must die. And some must be the causers why This reuolution must be wrought: As borne to bring their state to nought. To change the people and the crowne, And purge the worlds iniquitie: Which vice so farre bath ouer-growne. As we, so they that treate vs thus, Must one day perish like to vs.

ACTVS QVARTVS.

SELEVCVS. RODON.

Sel.

NEuer friend Rodon in a better howre, Could I haue met thee thē eu'n now I do Hauing affliction in the greatest powre Vpon my soule, and none to tell it to. For tis some ease our sorrowes to reueale, If they to whom we shall impart our woes Seeme but to feele a part of what we feele: And meete vs with a sigh but at a cloze.

Rod.

And neuer (friend Seleucus) found'st thou one That better could beare such a part with thee: Who by his own, knows others cares to mone, And can, in like accord of griefe, agree. And therefore tell th' oppression of thy hart, Tell to an eare prepar'd and tun'd to care: And I will likewise vnto thee impart As sad a tale as what thou shalt declare. So shall we both our mournefull plaints combine, Ile waile thy state, and thou shalt pitty mine.

Sel.

Well then, thou know'st how I haue liu'din grace With Cleopatra, and esteem'din Court As one of Counsell, and of chiefest place, And euer held my credite in that sort: Till now in this confusion of our state,

When thinking to haue vs'd a meane to climbe, And fled the wretched, flowne vnto the great, (Following the fortune of the present time,) Am come to be cast down and ruin'd cleene; And in the course of mine own plot vndonne. For hauing all the secrets of the Queene Reueald to Caesar, to haue fauor wonne: My trechery is quited with disgrace, My falshood loath'd, and not without great reason Though good for him, yet Princes in this case Do hate the Traitor, though they loue the treason For how could hee imagine I would be Faithfull to him, being false vnto mine owne? And false to such a bountious Queene as shee, That had me rais'd and made mine honor knowne He saw twas not for zeale to him I bare, But for base feare, or mine owne state to settle. Weakenesse is false, and faith in Cowards rare, Feare findes out shifts, timiditie is subtle, And therefore scorn'd of him, scorn'd of mine own, Hatefull to all that looke into my state: Despis'd Seleucus now is onely grown The marke of infamy, that's pointed at.

Rod.

Tis much thou faist, and ôo too much to feele, And I do grieue and do lament thy fall: But yet all this which thou doost heere reueale, Compar'd with mine, wil make thine seem but smal

Although my fault be in the selfe-same kind, Yet in degree far greater, far more hatefull; Mine sprong of mischiefe, thine from feeble mind, I staind with bloud, thou onely but vngratefull, For vnto me did Cleopatra giue The best and deerest treasure of her blood, Louely Caesario, whom she would should liue Free from the dangers wherein Egypt stood. And vnto me with him this charge she gaue, Here Rodon, take, conuay from out this Coast, This precious Gem, the chiefest that I haue, The iewell of my soule I value most. Guide him to INDIA, lead him far from hence, Safeguard him where secure he may remaine, Till better fortune call him backe from thence, And Egypts peace be reconcil'd againe. For this is he that may our hopes bring backe; (The rising Sunne of our declining state:) These be the hands that may restore our wrack, And raise the broken ruines made of late. He may giue limits to the boundles pride Of fierce Octauius, and abate his might: Great Julius of-spring, he may come to-guide The Empire of the world, as his by right. O how he seemes the modell of his Syre? O how I gaze my Caesar in his face? Such was his gate, so did his lookes a spire;

Such was his threatning brow, such was his grace. High shouldred, and his forehead euen as hie. And ô, (if he had not beene borne so late,) He might haue rul'd the worlds great Monarchy, And now haue beene the Champion of our state.

Then vnto him, ô my deere Sonne (she saies,) Soone of my youth, flie hence, ô flie, be gone, Reserue thy selfe, ordain'd for better daies, For much thou hast to ground thy hopes vpon. Leaue me (thy wofull Mother) to endure The sury of this tempest heere alone: Who cares not for her selfe, so thou be sure, Thou mayst reuenge, when others can but mone: Rodon will see thee safe, Rodon will guide Thee and thy waies, thou shalt not need to feare. Rodon (my faithfull seruant) will prouide What shall be best for thee, take thou no care. And ô good Rodon, looke well to his youth, The waies are long, and dangers eu'ry where. I vrge it not that I do doubt thy truth, Mothers will cast the worst, and alwaies feare.

The absent danger greater still appeares, Lesse fears he, who is neere the thing he feares. And ô, I know not what presaging thought My sp'rit suggests of luckles bad euent: But yet it may be tis but loue doth dote, Or idle shadowes with my feares present.

But yet the memory of mine own fate Makes me feare his. And yet why should I feare His fortune may recouer better state, And he may come in pompe to gouerne heere. But yet I doubt the Genius of our race By some malignant spirit comes ouer-throwne Our bloud must be extinct, in my disgrace, Egypt must haue no more Kings of their owne. Then let him stay, and let vs fall together, Sith it is fore-decreed that we must fall. Yet who knowes what may come? let him go thither, What Merchaunt in one Vessell venters all? Let vs deuide our stars. Go, go my sonne, Let not the fate of Egypt find thee heere: Try if so be thy destinie can shunne The common wracke of vs, by being there. But who is he found euer yet defence Against the heauens, or hid him any where? Then what need I to send thee so far hence To seeke thy death that maystas well die here? And here die with thy mother, die in rest, Not trauailing to what will come to thee. Why should we leaue our bloud vnto the East, When Egypt may a Tombe sufficient be?

O my deuided soule, what shall I do? Where on shall now my resolution rest? What were I best resolue to yeeld vnto

When both are bad, how shall I know the best? Stay; I may hap so worke with Caesar now, That he may yeeld him to restore thy right. Go; Caesar neuer will consent that thou So neere in bloud, shalt be so great in might. Then take him Rodon, go my sonne fare-well. But stay; ther's something else that I would say: Yet nothing now, but ô God speed thee well, Least saying more, that more may make thee stay. Yet let me speake: It may be tis the last That euer I shall speake to thee my Sonne. Doe Mothers vse to part in such post-haste? What, must I end when I haue scarce begun? Ah no (deere hart,) tis no such slender twine Where-with the knot is tide twixt thee and me, That bloud within thy vaines came out of mine, Parting from thee, I part from part of me: And therefore I must speake. Yet what? O sonne.

Here more she would, when more she could not say, Sorrow rebounding backe whence it begun, Fild vp the passage, and quite stopt the way: When sweet Caesario with a princely spirite, (Though comfortles himself) did comfort giue, With mildest words, perswading her to beare it. And as for him, she should not need to grieue. And I (with protestations of my part,) Swore by that faith, (which sworn I did deceiue)

That I would vse all care, all wit and arte To see him safe; And so we tooke our leaue. Scarce had we trauail'd to our iourneies end, When Caesar hauing knowledge of our way, His Agents after vs with speed doth send To labour me, Caesario to betray. Who with rewards and promises so large, Assail'd me then, that I grew soone content; And backe to Rhodes did reconuay my charge, Pretending that Octauius for him sent, To make him King of Egypt presently.

And thither come, seeing himselfe betray'd, And in the hands of death through trechery, Wailing his state, thus to himselfe he said.

Lo here brought back by subtile train to death Betraide by Tutors faith, or traytors rather: My fault my bloud, and mine offence my birth, For being sonne of such a mighty Father.

From India, (whither sent by mothers care, To be reseru'd from Egypts common wracke,) To Rhodes, (so long the armes of tyrants are,) I am by Caesars subtile reach brought backe: Here to be made th' oblation for his feares, Who doubts the poore reuenge these hands may doe him: Respecting neither blood, nor youth, nor yeeres, Or how small safety can my death be to him.

And is this all the good of beeing borne great?

Then wretched greatnesse, proud rich misery, Pompous distresse, glittering calamity. Is it for this th' ambitious Fathers swear, To purchase bloud & death for thē and theirs? Is this the issue that their glories get, To leaue a sure destruction to their heyros? O how much better had it beene for me, From low descent, deriu'd of humble birth, T'haue eat the sweet-sowre bread of pouertie, And drunke of Nilus streams in Nilus earth: Vnder the cou'ring of some quiet Cottage, Free from the wrath of heauen, secure in mind, Vntoucht when sad euents of princes dotage Confounds what euer mighty it doth find. And not t'haue stood in their way, whose condition Is to haue all made cleere, and all thing plaine Betweene them and the marke of their ambition, That nothing let, the ful sight of their raigne. Where nothing stands, that stands not in submission; Where greatnesse must all in it selfe containe. Kings will be alone, Competitors must downe, Neere death he stands, that stands too neere a Crowne.

Such is my case, for Caesar will haue all. My bloud must seale th' assurance of his state: Yet ah weake state that blood assure him shall, Whose wrongfull shedding, Gods & men do hate. Iniustice neuer scapes vnpunisht still,

Though men reuenge not, yet the heauens wil.

And thou Augustus that with bloodie hand, Cutt'st off succession from anothers race, Maist find the heauens thy vowes so to withstand, That others may depriue thine in like case. When thou maist see thy proud contentious bed Yeelding thee none of thine that may inherite: Subuert thy blood, place others in their sted, To pay this thy iniustice her due merite.

If it be true (as who can that denie Which sacred Priests of Memphis doe fore-say) Some of the of-spring yet of Antonis, Shall all the rule of this whole Empire sway; And then Augustus, what is it thou gainest By poore Antillus blood, or this of mine? Nothing but this thy victorie thou slainest, And pull'st the wrath of heauen on thee and thine. In vaine doth man contend against the starr's, For that he seekes to make, his wisdom marr's. Yet in the mean-time we whom Fates reserue, The bloodie sacrifices of ambition, We feele the smart what euer they deserue, And woindure the present times condition. The iustice of the heauens reuenging thus, Doth onely satisfie it selfe, not vs. Yet tis a pleasing comfort that doth ease Affliction in so great extremitie,

To thinke their like destruction shall appease Our ghosts, who did procure our miserie. But dead we are, vncertaine what shall bee, And liuing, we are sure to feele the wrong: Our certaine ruine we our selues do see. They ioy the while, and we know not how long. But yet Caesario, thou must die content, For men will mone, and God reuenge th'innocent. Thus he cōplain'd, & thus thou hear'st my shame.

Sel.

But how hath Caesar now rewarded thee?

Rod.

As he hath thee. And I expect the same As fell to Theodor to fall to mee: For he (one of my coate) hauing betraid The young Antillus, sonne of Anthonie, And at his death from off his necke conuaid A iewell: which being askt, he did denie: Caesar occasion tooke to hang him straight. Such instruments with Princes liue not long. Although they need such actors of deceit, Yet still our sight seemes to vpbraid their wrong; And therefore we must needes this daunger runne, And in the net of our owne guile be caught: We must not liue to brag what we haue done, For what is done, must not appeare their fault. But here comes Cleopatra, wofull Queene, And our shame will not that we should be seene.

Exeunt.

Cleopatra.

WHat hath my face yet powre to win a Louer? Can this torne remnant serue to grace me so, That it can Caesars secrete plots discouer What he intends with me and mine to do? Why then poore Beautie thou hast done thy last, And best good seruice thou could'st do vnto mee. For now the time of death reueal'd thou hast, Which in my life didst serue but to vndoe mee.

Heere Dolabella far forsooth in loue, Writes, how that Caesar meanes forthwith, to send Both me and mine, th'ayre of Rome to proue: There his Triumphant Chariot to attend. I thanke the man, both for his loue and letter; The one comes fit to warne me thus before, But for th'other, I must die his debter, For Cleopatra now can loue no more.

But hauing leaue, I must go take my leaue And last farewell of my dead Anthonie: Whose deerly honour'd tombe must here receiue This sacrifice, the last before I die.

O sacred euer-memorable stone, That hast without my teares, within my flame, Receiue th'oblation of the wofull'st mone That euer yet from sad affliction came, And you deare reliques of my Lord and Loue,

(The sweetest parcels of the faithfull'st liuer,) O let no impious hand dare to remoue You out from hence, but rest you here for euer. Let Egypt now giue peace vnto you dead, That liuing gaue you trouble and turmoile: Sleepe quiet in this euer-lasting bed, In forraine land preferr'd before your soile. And ô, if that the sp'rits of men remaine After their bodies, and do neuer die, Then heare thy ghost thy captiue spouse cōplaine And be attentiue to her miserie. But if that labour some mortalitie Found this sweete error, onely to confine The curious search of idle vanitie, That would the deapth of darknes vndermine: Or rather to giue rest vnto the thought Of wretched man, with th'after-comming ioy Of those conceiued fields whereon we dote, To pacifie the present worlds anoy. If it be so, why speake I then to th'ayre? But tis not so, my Anthonie doth heare: His euer-liuing ghost attends my prayer, And I do know his houering sp'rit is neere. And I will speake, and pray, and mourne to thee, O pure immortall loue that daign'st to heare: I feele thou answer'st my credulitie With touch of comfort, finding none elswhere.

Thou know'st these hands cotomb'd thee here of late, Free and vnsorc'd, which now must seruile be, Reseru'd for bands to grace proud Caesars state, Who seekes in me to triumph ouer thee. O if in life we could not seuerd be, Shall death deuide our bodies now asunder? Must thine in Egypt, mine in Italie, Be kept the Monuments of Fortunes wonder? If any powres be there where as thou art, (Sith our owne Country Gods betray our case,) O worke they may their gracious helpe impart, To saue thy wofull wife from such disgrace. Do not permit she should in triumph shew The blush of her reproch, ioyn'd with thy shame: But (rather) let that hatefull Tyrant know, That thou and I had powre t'auoyde the same. But what doe I spend breath and idle winde, In vaine inuoking a conceiued ayde? Why do I not my selfe occasion find To breake the bounds where in my'selfe am staid? Words are for them that can complaine and liue, Whose melting hearts compos'd of baser frame, Can to their sorrowes, time and leisure giue, But Cleopatra may not do the same. No Anthonie, thy loue requireth more: A lingring death, with thee deserues no merit, I must my selfe force open wide a dore

To let out life, and so vnhouse my spirit, These hands must breake the prison of my soule To come to thee, thereto enioy like state, As doth the long-pent solitaric Foule, That hath escapt her cage, and found her mate. This Sacrifice to sacrifize my life, Is that true incense that dooth best beseeme: These rites may serue a life-desiring wife, Who doing them, t'haue done inough doth deeme. My hart blood should the purple flowers haue been, Which heere vpon thy Tombe to thee are offred, No smoake but dying breath should heere been seen, And this it had beene to, had I beene fufired. But what haue I saue these bare hands to do it? And these weake fingers are not iron-poynted: They cannot pierce the flesh be'ing put vnto it, And I of all meanes else am disappointed. But yet I must away and meanes seeke, how To come vnto thee, what so ere I doo. O Death art thou so hard to come by now, That we must pray, intreate, and seeke thee too? But I will find thee where so ere thou lie, For who can stay a minde resolu'd to die?

And now I go to works th'effect indeed, He neuer send more words or sighes to thee: He bring my soule my selfe, and that with speede, My selfe will bring my soule to Antbonie.

Come go my Maides, my fortunes sole attenders, That minister to miserie and sorrow: Your Mistris you vnto your freedom renders. And will discharge your charge yet ere to morrow.

And now by this, I thinke the man I sent, Is neere return'd that brings me my dispatch. God grant his cunning sort to good euent, And that his skill may well beguile my watch: So shall I shun disgrace, leaue to be sorie, Flie to my loue, scape my foe, free my soule; So shall I act the last of life with glorie, Die like a Queene, and rest without controule.

Exit.

CHORVS.

Mysterious Egypt, wonder breeder, strict religions strange obseruer, State-ordrer zeale, the best rule-keeper, Fostring still in temp'rate feruor: O how cam'st thou to lose so wholy All religion, law and order? And thus become the most vnholy of all Lands, that Nylus border? How could confus'd Disorder enter Where sterne Law sute so sewerely? How durst weake lust and riot venter

th'eye of Iustice looking neerely? Could not those means that made thee great Be still the means to keepe thy state?

Ah no, the course of things requireth change and alteration euer. That same continuance man desireth, th'vnconstant world yeeldeth neuer. We in our counsels must be blinded, And not see what doth import vs: And often-times the thing least minded is the thing that most must hurt vs. Yet they that haue the sterne in guiding, tis their fault that should preuent it. For oft they seeing their Country sliding, take their ease, as though contented. We imitate the greater powres, The Princes manners fashion ours.

Th'example of their light regarding, Vulgar loosenes much incences: Vice vncontrould, growes wide inlarging, Kings small faults, be great offences. And this hath set the window open. vnto licence, lust and riot: This way confusion first found broken, whereby entred our disquiet.

Those lawes that olde Sesostris founded, and the Ptolomies obserued, Hereby first came to be confounded, which our state so long preserued. The wanton luxurie of Court, Did forme the people of like sort.

For all (respecting priuate pleasure,) vniuersally consenting To abuse their time, their treasure, in their owne delights contenting: And future dangers nought respecting, whereby, (ô how easie matter Made this so generall neglecting, confus'd weakenesse to discatter?) Caesar found th'effect true tried, in his easie entrance making: Who at the sight of armes, descryed all our people, all forsaking. For ryot (worse then warre,) so sore Had wasted all our strength before.

And thus is Egypt seruile rendred to the insolent destroyer: And all their sumptuous treasure tendred, All her wealth that did betray her. Which poison (O if heauen be right full,)

may so far infect their sences, That Egypts pleasures so delightfull, may breed them the like offences. And Romans learne our way of weakenes, be instructed in our vices: That our spoiles may spoile your greatnes, ouercome with our deuises. Fill full your hands, and carry home Inough from vs to ruine Rome.

ACTVS QVINTVS.

DOLABELLA. TITIVS.

Dol.

Come tell me Titius eu'ry circumstance How Cleopatra did receiue my newes: Tell eu'ry looke, each gesture, countenance, That she did in my Letters reading, vse.

Tit.

I shal my Lord, so far as I could note, Or my conceite obserue in any wise. It was the time when as she hauing got Leaue to her Deerest dead to sacrifize; And now was issuing out the Monument With Odors, Incense, Garlands in her hand, When I approcht (as one from Caesar sent,) And did her close thy message t'vnderstand. She turnes her backe, and with her, takes me in, Reades in thy lines thy strange vnlooke for tale:

And reades, and smiles, and staies, and doth begin Againe to reade, then blusht, and then was pale. And hauing ended with a sigh, resoldes Thy Letter vp: and with a fixed eye, (Which stedfast her imagination holds) She mus'd a while, standing confusedly: At length. Ah friend, (saith shee), tell thy good Lord, How deere I hold his pittying of my case: That out of his sweet nature can afford A miserable woman so much grace. Tel him how much my heauy soule doth grieue Mercilesse Caesar should so deale with me: Pray him that he would all the counsell giue, That might diuert him from such orueltie. As for my loue, say Antony hath all, Say that my hart is gone into the graue VVith him, in whom it rests and euer shall: I haue it not my selfe, nor cannot haue. Yet tell him, he shall more command of me Then any, whosoeuer hiuing can. Hee that so friendly shewes himselfe to be A right kind Roman, and a Gentleman. Although his Nation (fatall vnto me,) Haue had mine age a spoile, my youth a pray, Yet his affection must accepted be, That fauours one distrest in such decay. Ah, he was worthy then to haue beene lou'd,

Of Cleopatra whiles her glory lasted; Before she had declining fortune prou'd, Or seen her honor wrackt, her flowre blasted. Now there is nothing left her but disgrace, Nothing but her affliction that can moue: Tell Dolabella, one that's in her case, (Poore soule) needs rather pity now thē loue. But shortly shall thy Lord heare more of me. And ending so her speech, no longer stai'd, But hasted to the tombe of Antony. And this was all she did, and all she said.

Dol.

Ah sweet distressed Lady. What hard hart Could chuse but pity thee, and loue thee too? Thy worthines, the state wherein thou art Requireth both, and both I vow to doo. Although ambition lets not Caesar see The wrong he doth thy maiesty and sweetnes, Which makes him now exact so much of thee, To adde vnto his pride, to grace his greatnes, He knowes thou canst no hurt procure vs now, Sith all thy strength is seaz'd into our hands: Nor feares he that, but rather labours how He might shew Rome so great a Queene in bands: That our great Ladies (enuying thee so much That stain'd them al, and held them in such wonder,) Mightioy to see thee, and thy fortune such, Thereby exrolling him that brought thee vnder.

But I will seeke to stay it what I may; I am but one, yet one that Caesar loues, And ô if now I could doe more then pray, Then should'st thou know how far affection moues. But what my powre and praier may preuaile, Ile ioine them both, to hinder thy disgrace: And euen this present day I will not faile To do my best with Caesar in this case.

Tit.

And sir, euen now her selfe hath letters sent, I met her messenger as I came hither, With a dispatch as he to Caesar went, But know not what imports her sending thither. Yet this he told, how Cleopatra late Was come from sacrifice. How richly clad Was seru'd to dinner in most sumptuous state, With all the brauest ornaments she had. How hauing dyn'd, she writes, and sends away Him straight to Caesar, and commanded than All should depart the Tombe, and none to stay But her two maides, & one poore Countryman:

Dol.

Why then I know, she sends t'haue audience now, And means t' experience what her state can do: To see if Maiesty will make him bow To what affliction could not moue him to. And ô, if now she could but bring a view Of that fresh beauty she in youth possest, (The argument where with she ouerthrew

The wit of Julius Caesar, and the rest,) Then happily Augustus might relent, VVhilst powreful Loue, (far stronger then ambition) Might worke in him, a mind to be content To grant her asking, in the best condition. But being as she is, yet doth she merite To be respected, for what she hath beene: The wonder of her kind, of rarest spirit, A glorious lady, and a mighty Queene. And now, but by a little weakenesse falling To do that which perhaps sh'was forst to do: Alas, an error past, is past recalling, Take away weakenes, and take women too. But now I go to be thy aduocate, Sweet Cleopatra, now Ile vse mine arte. Thy presence will me greatly animate, Thy face will teach my tongue, thy loue my hart.

SCENA SECVNDA.

Nvntivs.

AM I ordain'd the carefull Messenger, And sad newes-bringer of the strangest death, VVhich selfe hand did vpon it selfe infer, To free a captiue soule from seruile breath? Must I the lamentable wonder shew, Which all the world must grieue and meruaile at

The rarest forme of death in earth below, That euer pitty, glory, wonder gat.

Chor.

What newes bring'st thou, can Egypt yet yeelde (more Of sorrow then it hath? what can it adde To the already ouerflowing store Of sad affliction, matter yet more sad? Haue we not seene the worst of our calamity? Is there behind yet something of distresse Vnseene, vnknown? Tel if that greater misery There be, that we waile not that which is lesse. Tell vs what so it be, and tell at first, For sorrow euer longs to heare her worst.

Nun.

Well then, the strangest thing relate I will, That euer eye of mortall man hath seene. I (as you know) euen frō my youth, haue still Attended on the person of the Queene: And euer in all fortunes good or ill, With her as one of chiefest trust haue beene. And now in these so great extreamities, That euer could to maiestie befall, I did my best in what I could deuise, And left her not, till now she left vs all.

Chor.

What is she gone. Hath Caesar forst her so?

Nun.

Yea, she is gone, and hath deceiu'd him to.

Chor.

What, fled to INDIA, to go find her sonne?

Nun.

No, not to INDIA, but to find her sonne.

Chor.

why then ther's hope she may her state recouer.

Nun.

Her state? nay rather honor, and her Louer.

Chor.

Her Louer? him she cannot haue againe.

Nun.

Well, him she hath, with him she doth remaine.

Cho.

Why then she's dead. Ist so? why speak'st not thou?

Nun.

You gesse aright, and I will tell you how. When she perceiu'd al hope was cleane berest her, That Caesar meant to send her straight away, And saw no meanes of reconcilement left her, Worke what she could, she could not worke to stay: She cals me to her, and she thus began. O thou, whose trust hath euer been the same And one in all my fortunes, faithfull man, Alone content t'attend disgrace and shame. Thou, whom the fearefull ruine of my fall, Neuer deterr'd to leaue calamitie: As did those others smooth state-pleasers all, Who followed but my fortune, and not me. Tis thou must do a seruice for thy Queene, Wherein thy faith and skill must do their best: Thy honest care and duty shall be seene Performing this, more then in all the rest. For al what thou hast don, may die with thee, Although tis pitty that such faith should die. But this shall euermore remembred be, A rare example to posterity. And looke how long as Cleopatra shall In after ages liue in memory,

So long shall thy cleere fame endure withall, And therefore thou must not my sute denie; Nor contradict my will. For what I will I am resolu'd: and this tis thou must do me: Go find mee out with all thy art and skill Two Aspicqs, and conuay them close vnto me. I haue a worke to do with them in hand, Enquire not what, for thou shalt soone see what, If the heauens do not my disseignes withstand, But do thy charge, and let me shift with that.

Being thus coniur'd by her t'whom I'had vow'd My true perpetuall seruice, forth I went, Deuising how my close attempt to shrowde, So that there might no art my art preuent. And so disguis'd in habite as you see, Hauing found out the thing for which I went, I soone return'd againe, and brought with me The Aspicqs, in a basket closely pent. Which I had fill'd with figges, and leaues vpon. And comming to the guard that kept the dore, What hast thou there? said they, and looke thereon. Seeing the figgs, they deem'd of nothing more, But said, they were the fairest they had seene. Taste some, said I, for they are good and pleasant. No, no, said they, go beare them to thy Queene, Thinking me some poore māy brought a present. Well, in I went, where brighter then the Sunne,

Glittering in all her pompous rich aray, Great Cleopatra sate, as if sh'had wonne Caesar, and all the world beside this day: Euen as she was when on thy cristall streames, O Cydnos she did shew what earth could shew. When Asia all amaz'd in wonder, deemes Venus from heauen was come on earth below. Euen as she went at first to meete her Loue, So goes she now at last againe to find him. But that first, did her greatnes onely proue, This last her loue, that could not liue behind him. Yet as she fate, the doubt of my good speed, Detracts much from the sweetnes of her looke: Cheer-marrer Care, did then such passions breed, That made her eye bewray the care she tooke. But she no sooner sees me in the place, But straight her sorow-clowded brow she cleeres, Lightning a smile from out a stormie face, Which all her tempest-beaten sences cheeres.

Looke how a stray'd perplexed trauailer, When chas'd by theeues, & euē at point of taking, Descrying suddainly some towne not far, Or some vnlookt-for aid to him-ward making; Cheers vp his tired sp'rits, thrusts forth his strēgth To meet that good, that comes in so good houre: Such was her ioy, perceiuing now at length, Her honour was t'escape so proude a powre,

Forth from her seat she hastes to meet the present, And as one ouer-ioy'd, she caught it straight. And with a smiling cheere in action pleasant, Looking among the figs, findes the deceite. And seeing there the vgly venemous beast, Nothing dismaid, she stayes and viewes it well. At length th' extreamest of her passion ceast, When she began with words her ioy to tell.

O rarest beast (saith she) that Affrick breedes, How deerly welcome art thou vnto me? The fairest creature that faire Nylus feedes Me thinks I see, in now beholding thee. What though the euer-erring worlde doth deeme That angred Nature fram'd thee but in spight? Little they know what they so light esteeme, That neuer learn'd the wonder of thy might. Better then Death, Deaths office thou dischargest, That with one gentle touch can free our breath: And in a pleasing sleepe our soule inlargest, Making our selues not priuie to our death. If Nature err'd, ô then how happy error, Thinking to make thee worst, she made thee best: Sith thou best freest vs from our liues worst terror, In sweetly bringing soules to quiet rest. When that inexorable Monster Death That followes Fortune, flies the poore destressed, Tortures our bodies ere he takes our breath,

And loads with paines th' already weak oppressed. How oft haue I begg'd, prayd, intreated him To take my life, and yet could neuer get him? And when he comes, he comes so vgly grim, That who is he (if he could chuse) would let him? Therefore come thou, of wonders wonder chiefe, That open canst with such an easie key The doore of life, come gentle cunning thiefe, That from our selues so steal'st our selues away. Well did our Priests discerne something diuine Shadow'd in thee, and therefore first they did Offrings and worships due to thee assigne, In whom they found such mysteries were hid. Comparing thy swift motion to the Sunne, That mou'st without the instruments that moue: And neuer waxing olde, but alwayes one, Doost sure thy strange diuinitie approue. And therefore to, the rather vnto thee In zeale I make the offring of my blood, Calamitie confirming now in me A sure beliefe that pietie makes good. Which happy men neglect, or hold ambiguous. And onely the afflicted are religious.

And heere I sacrifice these armes to Death, That Lust late dedicated to Delights: Offring vp for my last, this last of breath, The complement of my loues dearest rites.

With that she bares her arme, and offer makes To touch her death, yet at the touch with-drawes, And seeming more to speake, occasion takes, Willing to die, and willing to to pause.

Looke how a mother at her sonnes departing For some far voyage bent to get him fame, Doth intertaine him with anidle parling And stil doth speake, and still speakes but the same; Now bids farewell, and now recalls him backe, Tels what was told, and bids againe fare-well, And yet againe recalls; for still doth lacke Something that loue would faine and cannot tell. Pleas'd he should go, yet cannot let him go. So she, although she knew there was no way But this, yet this she could not handle so But she must shew that life desir'd delay. Faine would she entertaine the time as now, And now would faine that Death would seaze vpō her, Whilst I might see presented in her brow, The doubtful combattry'd twixt Life and Honor. Life bringing Legions of fresh hopes with her, Arm'd with the proofe of time, which yeelds we say Comfort and helpe, to such as do refer All vnto him, and can admit delay. But Honour scorning Life, loe forth leades he Bright immortalitie in shining armour: Thorow the rayes of whose cleere glorie, shee Might see Lifes basenes, how much it might harm her.

Besides she saw whole armies of Reproches, And base Disgraces, Furies fearfull sad, Marching with Life, and Shame that stil incroches Vpon her face, in bloodie colours clad. Which representments seeing, worse then death She deem'd to yeeld to Life, and therefore chose To render all to Honour, hart and breath; And that with speede, least that her in ward foes False flesh and blood, ioyning with life and hope, Should mutinie against her resolution. And to the end she would not giue them scope, She presently proceedes to th' execution. And sharply blaming of her rebell powres, False flesh (saith she,) & what dost thou conspire With Caesar to, as thou wert none of ours, To worke my shame, and hinder my desire? Wilt thou retaine in closure of thy vaines, That enemie Base life, to let my good? No, know there is a greater powre constraines Then can be countercheckt with fearfull blood. For to the mind that's great, nothing seems great: And seeing death to be the last of woes, And life lasting disgrace, which I shall get, What do I lose, that haue but life to lose?

This hauing said, strengthned in her owne hart, And vnion of herselfe, sences in one Charging togither, she performes that part That hath so great a part of glorie wonne.

And so receiues the deadly poysoning touch; That touch that try'd the gold of her loue, pure, And hath confirm'd her honour to be such, As must a wonder to all worlds endure. Now not an yeelding shrinke or touch offeare, Consented to bewray least sence of paine: But still in one same sweete vnaltred cheere, Her honor did her dying thoughts retaine.

Wel, now this work is done (saith she,) here ends This act of life, that part the Fates assign'd: What glory or disgrace heere this world lends, Both haue I had, and both I leaue behind. And now ô Earth, the Theater where I Haue acted this, witnes I die vnforst. Wirnes my soule parts free to Anthonie, And now proude Tyrant Caesar do thy worst.

This said, she staies, and makes a suddaine pause, As twere to feele wheher the poyson wrought: Or rather else the working might be cause That made her stay, and intertain'd her thought. For in that instant I might well perceiue The drowsie humor in her falling brow: And how each powre, each part opprest did leaue Their former office, and did sencelesse grow. Looke how a new pluckt branch against the Sun, Declines his fading leaues in feeble sort; So her disioyned ioyntures as vndonne, Let fall her weake dissolued limmes support.

Yet loe that face the wonder of her life, Retaines in death, a grace that graceth death, Colour so liuely, cheere so louelie rife, That none would think such beauty could want breath. And in that cheere th'impression of a smile Did seeme to shew she scorned Death and Caesar, As glorying that she could them both beguile, And telling death how much her death did please her. Woonder it was to see how soone she went, She went with such a will, and did so haste it, That sure I thinke she did her paine preuent, Fore-going paine, or staying not to taste it. And sencelesse, in her sinking downe she wryes The Diademe which on her head she wore, Which Charmion (poore weake feeble mayd) espies, And hastes to right it as it was before. For Eras now was dead, and Charmion too Euen at the poynt, for both would imitate Their Mistresse glorie, striuing like to doo. But Charmion would in this exceed her mate, For she would haue this honour to be last, That should adorne that head that must be seene To weare a Crowne in death, that life held fast, That all the world might know she dyde a Queene, And as she stood setting it fitly on, Lo in rush Caesars Messengers in haste, Thinking to haue preuented what was done, But yet they came too late, for all was past.

For there they found stretch'd on a bed of gold, Dead Cleopatra, and that proudly dead, In all the rich attyre procure she could, And dying Charmion trimming of her head, And Eras at her feet, dead in like case. Charmion, is this well done? said one of them. Yea, well said she, and her that from the race Of so great Kings descends, doth best become. And with that word, yeelds to her faithful breath, To passe th'affurance of her loue with death.

Chor.

But how knew Caesar of her close intent?

Nun.

By Letters which before to him she sent. For when she had procur'd this meanes to die, She writes, and earnestly intreates, she might Be buried in one Tombe with Antony. Where by then Caesar gess'd all went not right. And forth-with sends, yet ere the message came She was dispatcht, he crost in his intent, Her prouidence had ordred so the same That she was sure none should her plot preuent

CHORVS.

THen thus we haue bepeld Th'accomplishment of woes, The full of ruine and The worst of worst of ills: And seene all hope expeld,

That euer sweet repose Shall re-possesse the Land That Desolation fils, And where Ambition spils With vncontrouled hand, All th'issue of all those That so long rule haue held: To make vs no more vs, But cleane confound vs thus.

And canst ô Nylus thou, Father of floods indure, That yellow Tyber should With sandy streames rule thee? Wilt thou be pleas'd to bow To him those feet so pure, Whose vnknown head we hold A powre diuine to be? Thou that didst euer see Thy free banks vncontrould, Liue vnder thine own care: Ah wilt thou beare it now? And now wilt yeeld thy streams A pray to other Reames?

Draw backe thy waters flo To thy concealed head: Rockes strangle vp thy waues. Stop Cataractes thy fall.

And turne thy courses so, That sandy Desarts dead, (The world of dust that craues To swallow thee vp all,) May drinke so much as shall Reuiue from vastie graues Aliuing green which spred Far florishing, may gro On that wide face of Death, Where nothing now drawes breath.

Fatten some people there, Euen as thou vs hast done, With plenties wanton store, And feeble luxurie: And them as vs prepare Fit for the day of mone Respected not before. Leaue leuell'd Egypt drie, A barren pray to lie, Wasted for euer-more. Of plenties yeelding none To recompence the care Of Victors greedy lust, And bring forth nought but dust.

And so O leaue to be, Sith thou art what thou art: Let not our race possesse

Th'inheritance of shame, The fee of sin, that we Haue left them for their part: The yoke of whose distresse Must still vpbraidour blame, Telling from whom it came. Our weight of want onnesse Lies heauie on their hart, Who neuer-more shall see The glory of that worth They left, who brought vs forth.

O thou all-seeing light, High President of heauen, You magistrates the starres Of that eternall Court Of Prouidence and Right, Are these the bounds y'haue giuen Th'vntran spassable barres, That limit pride so short, Is greatnesse of this sort, That greatnesse greatnesse marres, And wracks it selfe, selfe driuen On Rocks of her own might? Doth Order order so Disorders ouer-thro?

FINIS.