Cleo. Get thee hence; farewell.

Clown. I wish you all joy of the worm.

Cleo. Farewell.

[Clown sets down the Basket. Clown. You must think this, look you, that the worm I will do his kind.

Cleo. Ay, 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 worm. [Exit. Re-enter IRAs, with a Robe, Crown, &c.

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 Iris; quick.-Methinks, I hear
Antony call; I see him rouse himself
To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
The luck of Cæsar, 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.

[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.

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, mortal wretch,
[To the asp, which she applies to her breast.
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
Of life at once untie: poor venemous fool,
Be angry,
and despatch. O, couldst thou speak!
That I might hear thee call great Cæsar, ass
Unpolicied!

Char. O eastern star !

Cleo. 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 :—

What should I stay—

[Applying another asp to her arm. [Falls on a bed, and dies. Char. In this wild world ?-So, fare thee well.Now boast thee, death! in thy possession lies A lass unparallel'd.-Downy windows, close 7 And golden Phoebus never be beheld

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

Enter the Guard, rushing in.

1 Guard. Where is the queen ?
Char. Speak softly, wake her not.
1 Guard. Cæsar hath sent-
Char. Too slow a messenger.

[Applies the asp.

-O, come; apace, despatch: I partly feel thee.

1 Guard.Approach, ho! All's not well: Cæsar's beguil’d. 2 Guard. There's Dolabella sent from Cæsar ;-call him. 1 Guard. What work is here ?-Charmian, is this well Char. It is well done, and fitting for a princess [done? Descended of so many royal kings.

Ah, soldier!

Enter DOLABELLA.

Dol. How goes it here?

2 Guard. All dead.

Dol. Cæsar, thy thoughts

Touch their effects in this: Thyself art coming

[Dies.

[7] Charmian, in saying this, must be conceived to close Cleopatra's eyes: one of

the first ceremonies performed towards a dead body

RITSON.

To see perform'd the dreaded act, which thou
So sought'st to hinder.

Within. A way there, way for Cæsar !

Enter CESAR, and Attendants.

Dol. O, sir, you are too sure an augurer; That you did fear, is done.

Cas. 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.

Dol. Who was last with them?

1 Guard. A simple countryman, that brought her figs; This was his basket.

Cæs. Poison'd then.

1 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.

Cæs. 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.

Dol. Here, on her breast,

There is a vent of blood, and something blown :
The like is on her arm.

1 Guard. This is an aspick's train; and these fig-leaves Have slime upon them, such as the aspick leaves Upon the caves of Nile.

Cas. 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.

[Exeunt.

TIMON OF ATHENS.] The story of the Misanthrope is told in almost every collection of the time, and particularly in two books, with which Shakespeare was intimately acquainted; the Palace of Pleasure, and the English Plutarch. Indeed from a passage in an old play, called Jack Drum's Entertainment, I conjecture that he had before made his appearance on the stage. FARMER.

The passage in Jack Drum's Entertainment, or Pasquil and Katherine, 1601, is this:

“Come, I'll be as sociable as Timon of Athens."

But the allusion is so slight, that it might as well have been borrowed from Plutarch or the novel.

Mr. Strutt the engraver, to whom our antiquaries are under no inconsiderable obligations, has, in his possession a MS. play on this subject. It appears to have been written, or transcribed, about the year 1600. There is a scene in it resembling Shakespeare's banquet given by Timon to his flatterers. Instead of warm water he sets before them stones painted like artichokes, and afterwards beats them out of the room. He then retires to the woods, attended by his faithful steward, who, (like Kent in King Lear) has disguised himself to continue his services to his master. Timon, in the last act, is followed by his fickle mistress, &c. after he was reported to have discovered a hidden treasure by digging. The piece itself (though it appears to be the work of an academick) is a wretched one. persona dramatis are as follows:

The