For she who feared captiue to be made And that she should to Rome in triumph goe Kept close the gate but from a window high Cast downe a corde wherein he was impackt Then by hir womens help the corps she rais'd And by strong armes into hir window drew So pittifull a sight was neuer seene Little and little Antony was pull'd Now breathing death his beard was all vnkempt His face and brest al bathed in his bloud So hideous yet and dieng as he was His eies half-clos'd vppon the Queene he cast Held vp his hands and holpe himselfe to raise But still with weaknes back his bodie fell The miserable ladie with moist eies With haire which careles on hir forhead hong With brest which blowes had bloudily benumb'd With stooping head and body down-ward bent Enlast hir in the corde and with all force This life-dead man couragiously vprais'd The bloud with paine into hir face did flowe Hir sinewes stiff her selfe did breathles grow The people which beneath in flocks beheld Assisted her with gesture speach desire Cride and incourag'd her and in thier soules Did sweate and labor no whit lesse then she Who neuer tir'd in labor held so long Helpt by her women and hir constant heart That Antony was drawne into the tombe And there I thinke of dead augments the summe The cittie all to teares and sighes is turn'd To plaints and outcries horrible to heare Men women children hoary-headed age Do all pell mell in house and streete lament Scratching their faces tearing of their haire Wringing their hands and martyring their brests Extreame their dole and greater misery In sacked townes can hardlie euer be Not if the fire had scal'de the highest towers That all things were of force and murther full That in the streets the bloud in riuers stream'd The sonne his sire saw in his bosome slaine The sire his sonne the husband and rest of breath In his wiues armes who furious runnes to death Now my brest wounded with their piteouse plaints I left their towne and tooke with me this sworde Which I tooke vp at what time Antony Was from his chamber caried to the tombe And brought it you to make his death more plaine And that thereby my words may credite gaine Cas. Ah Gods what cruell hap poore Antony Alas hast thou this sword so long time borne Against thy foe that in the end it should Of thee his Lord the cursed murth'rer be O Death how I bewaile thee we alas So many warres haue ended brothers frends Companions coozens equalls in estate And must it now to kill thee be my fate Ag. Why trouble you your selfe with bootles griefe For Antony why spend you teares in vaine Why darken you with dole your victory Me seemes your selfe your glory do enuie Enter the towne giue thanks vnto the Gods Cae. I cannot but his tearefull chaunce lament Although not I but his owne pride the cause And vnchast loue of this Aegiptian Agt. But best we sought into the tombe to get Lest she consume in this amazed case So much rich treasure with which happely Despaire in death may make hir feede the fire Suffring the flames hir Iewells to deface You to defraud hir funerall to grace Sende then to hir and let some meane be vs'd With some deuise so hold her still aliue Some faire large promises and let them marke Whither they may by some fine cunning slight Enter the tombes Caesar Let Proculeius goe And feede with hope hir soule disconsolate Assure hir soe that we may wholy get Into our hands hir treasure and her selfe For this of all things most I do desire To keepe her safe vntill our going hence That by hir presence beautified may be The glorious triumph Rome prepares for me Chorus of Romaine Souldiors Shall euer ciuile bate gnaw and deuour our state shall neuer we this blade our bloud hath bloudy made lay downe these armes downe lay as robes we weare alway but as from age to age so passe from rage to rage Our hands shall we not rest to bath in our owne brest and shall thick in each land our wretched trophees stand to tell posteritie what madd Impietie our stonie stomacks led against the place vs bred Then still must heauen view the plagues that vs pursue and euery wher descrie Heaps of vs scattred lie making the stranger plaines fat with our bleeding raines proud that on them their graue so many legions haue And without fleshes still Neptune his fishes fill and dronke with bloud from blue the sea take blushing hue as iuice of Tyrian shell when clarified well to wolle of finest fields a purple glosse it yeeldes But since the rule of Rome to one mans hand is come who gouernes without mate hir now vnited state late iointly rulde by three enuieng mutuallie whose triple yoke much woe on Latines necks did throwe I hope the cause of iarre and of this bloudie warre and deadly discord gone by what we last haue done our banks shall cherish now the branchie pale-hew'd bow of Oliue Pallas praise in stede of barraine baies And that his temple dore which bloudy Mars before held open now at last olde Ianus shall make fast and rust the sword consume and spoild of wauing plume The vseles morion shall on crooke hang by the wall At least if warre returne It shall not here soiourne to kill vs with those armes were forg'd for others harmes but haue their points addrest against the Germaines brest The Parthians fayned flight the Biscaines martiall might Olde Memory doth there painted on forehead weare our Fathers praise thence torne our triumphs baies haue worne therby our matchles Rome whilome of Shepeheards come rais'd to this greatnes stands the Queene of forraine lands Which now euen seemes to face the heau'ns her glories place nought resting vnder skies that dares affront her eies So that she needes but feare the weapons Ioue doth beare who angry at one blowe may her quite ouerthrowe Act. 5 Cleopatra Euphron Children of Cleopatra Charmion Eras. Cleop. O cruell fortune ô accursed lot O plaguy loue ô most detested brand O wretched ioyes ô beauties miserable O deadly state ô deadly roialtie O hatefull life ô Queene most lamentable O Antony by my faulte buriable O hellish worke of heau'n alas the wrath Of all the Gods at once on vs is falne Vnhappie Queene ô would I in this world The wandring light of day had neuer seene Alas of mine the plague and poison I The crowne haue lost my ancestors me left This Realme I haue to strangers subiect made And robd my children of their heritage Yet this is nought alas vnto the price Of you deare husband whome my snares intrap'd Of you whome I haue plagu'd whom I haue made With bloudy hand a guest of mouldie tombe Of you whome I destroied of you deare Lord Whome I of Empire honor life haue spoil'd O hurtfull woman and can I yet liue Yet longer liue in this Ghost-haunted tombe Can I yet breath can yet
Reframes reformes it selfe and stealingly Retakes his force and rebecomes more great For of thy Queene the lookes the grace the words Sweetnes alurements amorous delights Entred againe thy soule and day and night In watch in sleepe her Image follow'd thee Not dreaming but of her repenting still That thou for warre hadst such a goddes left Thou car'st no more for Parth nor Parthian bow Sallies assaults encounters shocks alarmes For ditches rampiers wards entrenched grounds Thy only care is sight of Nilus streames Sight of that face whose gilefull semblant doth Wandring in thee infect thy tainted hart Her absence thee besottes each hower each hower Of staie to thee impatient seemes an age Enough of conquest praise thou deem'st enough If soone enough the bristled fields thou see Of fruitfull Aegipt and the stranger floud Thy Queenes faire eyes another Pharos lights Returned loe dishonoured despisde In wanton loue a woman thee misleades Sunke in foule sinke meane while respecting nought Thy wife Octauia and her tender babes Of whome the long contempt against thee whets The sword of Caesar now thy Lord become Lost thy great Empire all those goodly townes Reuerenc'd thy name as rebells now thee leaue Rise against thee and to the ensignes flocke Of conqu'ring Caesar who enwalles thee round Cag'd in thy hold scarse maister of thy selfe Late maister of so many Nations Yet yet which is of griefe extreamest griefe Which is yet of mischiefe highest mischiefe It 's Cleopatra alas alas it 's she It 's she augments the torment of thy paine Betraies thy loue thy life alas betraies Caesar to please whose grace she seekes to gaine With thought her crowne to saue and fortune make Onely thy foe which common ought haue beene If her I alwaies lou'd and the first flame Of her heart-killing loue shall burne me last Iustly complaine I she disloyall is Nor constant is euen as I constant am To comfort my mishap despising me No more then when the heauens fauour'd me But ah by nature women wau'ring are Each moment changing and rechanging mindes Vnwise who blinde in them thinkes loyaltie Euer to finde in beauties companie Chorus The boyling tempest still makes not Sea waters fome nor still the Northern blast disquiets quiet streames Nor who his chest to fill sayles to the morning beames on waues winde tosseth fast still kepes his ship from home Nor Ioue still downe doth cast inflam'd with bloudie ire on man on tree on hill his darts of thundring fire nor still the heat doth last on face of parched plaine nor wrinkled colde doth still on frozen furrowes raigne But still as long as we in this low world remaine mishapps our daily mates our liues doe intertaine and woes which beare no dates still pearch vpon our heads none go but straight will be some greater in their steads Nature made vs not free When first she made vs liue When we began to be To be began our woe Which growing euermore As dying life doth growe Do more and more vs greeue And tire vs more and more No stay in fading states For more to height they retch Their fellow miseries The more to height do stretch They cling euen to the crowne And threatning furious wise From tirannizing pates Do often pull it downe In vaine on waues vntride To shun them go we should To Scythes and Massagetes Who neere the Pole reside In vaine to boiling sandes Which Phaebus battry beates For with vs still they would Cut seas and compasse landes The darknes no more sure To ioyne with heauy night The light which guildes the days To follow Titan pure No more the shadow light The body to ensue Then wretchednes alwaies Vs wretches to pursue O blest who neuer breath'd Or whome with pittie mou'de Death from his cradle reau'de And swadled in his graue And blessed also he As curse may blessing haue Who low and liuing free No princes charge hath prou'de By stealing sacred fire Prometheus then vnwise prouking Gods to ire the heape of ills did sturre and sicknes pale and colde our ende which onward spurre to plague our hands too bolde to filch the wealth of skies In heauens hate since then of ill with ill enchain'd we race of mortall men ful fraught our brests haue borne and thousand thousand woes our heau'nly soules now thorne which free before from those no! earthly passion pain'd Warre and warrs bitter cheare now long time with vs staie and feare of hated foe still still encreaseth sore our harmes worse dayly grow lesse yesterday they were then now and will be more to morrow then to day Act. 2. Philostratus What horrible furie what cruell rage O Aegipt so extremely thee torments Hast thou the Gods so angred by thy fault Hast thou against them some such crime conceiu'd That their engrained hand lift vp in threats They should desire in thy heart bloud to bathe And that their burning wrath which noght cā quēch Should pittiles on vs still lighten downe We are not hew'n out of the monst'rous masse Of Giantes those which heauens wrack conspir'd Ixions race false prater of his loues Nor yet of him who fained lightnings found Nor cruell Tantalus nor bloudy Atreus Whose cursed banquet for Thyestes plague Made the beholding Sunne for horrour turne His backe and backward from his course returne And hastning his wing-footed horses race Plunge him in sea for shame to hide his face While sulleine night vpon the wondring world For mid-daies light her starrie mantle cast But what we be what euer wickednesse By vs is done Alas with what more plagues More eager torments could the Gods declare To heauen and earth that vs they hatefull holde With souldiors strangers horrible in armes Our land is hidde our people drown'd in teares But terror here and horror nought is seene And present death prising our life each hower Hard at our ports and at our porches waites Our conquering foe harts faile vs hopes are dead Our Queene laments and this great Emperour Somtime would now they did whom worlds did fear Abandoned betraid now mindes no more But from his euils by hast'ned death to passe Come you poore people ti'rde with ceasles plaints With teares and sighes make mournful sacrifice On Isis altars not our selues to saue But soften Caesar and him piteous make To vs his praie that so his lenitie May change our death into captiuitie Strange are the euils the fates on vs haue brought O but alas how far more strange the cause Loue loue alas who euer would haue thought Hath lost this Realme inflamed with his fire Loue playing loue which men say kindles not But in soft hearts hath ashes made our townes And his sweet shafts with whose shot none are kill'd Which vlcer not with deaths our lands haue fill'd Such was the bloudie murdring hellish loue Possest thy hart faire false guest Priams sonne Firing a brand which after made to burne The Troian towers by Graecians ruinate By this loue Priam Hector Troilus Memnon Deiphaebus Glancus thousands mo Whome
fluttering Flocking of seelly flies a brownish cloud To vintag'd wine yet working in the tonne Not parting thence while they sweete liquor taste After as smoke all vanish in the aire And of the swarme not one so much appeare Eras. By this sharpe death what profit can you winne Cl. I neither gaine nor profit seeke therein Er. What praise shall you of after-ages get Cl. Nor praise nor Glory in my cares are set Eras. What other end ought you respect then this Cl. My only end my onele duty is Eras. Your dutie must vpon some good be founded Cl. On vertue it the onely good is grounded Er. What is that Vertue Cl. That which vs beseemes Er. Outrage our selues who that beseeming deemes Cl. Finish I will my sorrowes dieng thus Er. Minish you will your glories doing thus Cl. Good frends I pray you seeke not to reuoke My fix'd intent of folowing Antony I will die I will die must not his life His life and death by mine be followed Meane while deare sisters liue and while you liue Do often honor to our loued Tombes Straw them with flowers and sometimes happely The tender thought of Antony your Lord And me poore soule to teares shall you inuite And our true loues to dolefull voice commend Ch. And thinke you Madame we from you will part Thinke you alone to feele deaths ougly darte Thinke you to leaue vs and that the same sunne Shall see at once you dead and vs aliue Wee le die with you and Clotho pittilesse Shall vs with you in hellish boate imbarque Cl. Ah liue I praie you this disastred woe Which racks my heart alone to me belongs My lot longs not to you seruants to be No shame no harme to you as is to me Liue sisters liue and seing his suspect Hath causlesse me in sea of sorrowes drown'd And that I cannot liue if so I would Nor yet would leaue this life if so I could Without his loue procure me Diomed That gainst poore me he be no more incensd Wrest out of his conceit that harmefull doubt That since his wracke he hath of me conceiu'd Thogh wrong conceiu'd witnes you reuerent Gods Barking Anubis Apis bellowing Tell him my soule burning impatient Forlorne with loue of him for certaine seale Of her true loialtie my corpse hath left T encrease of dead the number numberlesse Go then and if as yet he me bewaile If yet for me his heart one sigh fourth breathe Blest shall I be and far with more content Depart this world where so I me torment Meane season vs let this sad tombe enclose Attending here till death conclude our woes Diom. I will obey your will Cl. So the desert The Gods repay of thy true faithfull heart Diomed. And is 't not pittie Gods ah Gods of heau'n To see from loue such hatefull frutes to spring And is 't not pittie that this firebrand so Laies waste the trophes of Phillippi fieldes Where are those sweet alluremēts those sweet lookes Which gods thē selues right hart sick wuld haue made What doth that beautie rarest guift of heau'n Wonder of earth Alas what do those eies And that sweete voice all Asia vnderstoode And sunburnt Africke wide in deserts spred Is their force dead haue they no further power Can not by them Octauius be suppriz'd Alas if Ioue in middst of all his ire With thunderbolt in hand some land to plague Had cast his eies on my Queene out of hand His Plaguing bolte had falne out of his hand Fire of his wrath into vaine smoke should turne And other fire within his brest should burne Nought liues so faire Nature by such a worke Her selfe should seeme in workmanship hath past She is all heau'nly neuer any man But seeing hir was rauish'd with her sight The Allablaster couering of her face The corall coullor hir two lips engraines Her beamy eies two Sunnes of this our world Of hir faire haire the fine and flaming golde Her braue streight stature and her winning partes Are nothing else but fiers fetters dartes Yet this is nothing th' enchaunting skilles Of her celestiall Sp'rite hir training speach Her grace hir maiesty and forcing voice Whither she it with fingers speach consorte Or hearing sceptred kings embassadors Answere to each in his owne language make Yet now at neede it aides her not at all With all these beauties so her sorrow stinges Darkned with woe her only study is To weepe to sigh to seeke for lonelines Careles of all hir haire disordred hangs Hir charming eies whence murthring looks did flie Now riuers grown whose wellspring anguish is Do trickling wash the marble of hir face Hir faire discouer'd brest with sobbing swolne Selfe cruell she still martirith with blowes Alas It 's our ill hap for if hir teares She would conuert into her louing charmes To make a conquest of the conqueror As well she might would she hir force imploie She should vs saftie from these ills procure Hir crowne to hir and to hir race assure Vnhappy he in whome selfe-succour lies Yet selfe-forsaken wanting succour dies Chorus O sweete fertile land wherein Phaebus did with breth inspire man who men did first begin formed first of Nilus mire whence of Artes the eldest kindes earths most heauenly ornament were as from their fountaine sent to enlight our misty mindes whose grose sprite frō endles time as in darkned prison pente neuer did to knowledge clime Wher the Nile our father good father-like doth neuer misse yearely vs to bring such food as to life required is visiting each yeare this plaine and with fat slime cou'ring it which his seauen mouthes do spit as the season comes againe making therby greatest growe busie reapers ioyfull paine when his flouds do highest flow Wandring Prince of riuers thou honor of the Aethiops lande of a Lord and maister now thou a slaue in awe must stand now of Tiber which is spred lesse in force and lesse in fame reuerence thou must the name whome all other riuers dread for his children swolne in pride who by conquest seeke to treade round this earth on euery side Now thou must begin to send tribute of thy watry store as sea pathes thy steps shall bend yearely presents more and more thy fat skumme our fruitfull corne pill'd from hence with theuish hāds all vncloth'd shal leaue our lands into forraine country borne which puft vp with such a pray shall thereby the praise adorne of that scepter Rome doth sway Nought thee helps thy hornes to hide far from hence in vnknown groūds that thy waters wander wide yerely breaking banks and bounds and that thy Skie-coullor'd brooks through a hundred peoples passe drawing plots for trees and grasse with a thousand turn's and crookes whome all weary of their way thy throats which in widenesse passe powre into their mother Sea Nought so happie haplesse life in this world as freedome findes nought wherin mor sparkes are rise to inflame couragious mindes but if force must vs inforce needes a yoke to
in such annoy Yet can my soule within this body dwell O Sisters you that spin the thredes of death O Styx ô Plegethon you brookes of hell O Impes of Night Euph. Liue for your childrens sake Let not your death of kingdome them depriue Alas what shall they do who will haue care Who will preserue this royall race of yours Who pittie take euen now me seemes I see These little soules to seruile bondage falne And borne in triumph Cl. Ah most miserable Euph. Their tender armes with cursed cord fast bound At their weake backs Cl. Ah Gods what pitty more Euph. Their seely necks to ground with weaknes bend Cl. Neuer on vs good Gods such mischiefe send Euph. And pointed at with fingers as they go Cl. Rather a thousand deaths Euph. Lastly his knife Some cruell catiue in their bloud embrue Cl. Ah my heart breaks By shady banks of hell By fields whereon the lonely Ghosts do treade By my foule and the soule of Antony I you besech Euphron of them haue care Be their good Father let your wisedome lett That they fall not into this Tyrants hands Rather conduct them where their freezed locks Black Aethiops to neighbour Sunne do shew On wauie Ocean at the waters will On barraine cliffes of snowie Caucasus To Tigers swift to Lions and to Beares And rather rather vnto euery coaste To eu'ry land and sea for nought I feare As rage of him whose thirst no bloud can quench Adieu deare children children deare adieu Good Isis you to place of safety guide Farre from our foes where you your liues may leade In free estate deuoid of seruile dread Remember not my children you were borne Of such a Princely race remember not So many braue Kings which haue Egipt rul'de In right descent your ancestors haue beene That this great Antony your father was Hercules bloud and more then he in praise For your high courage such remembrance will Seing your fall with burning rages fill Who knowes if that your hands false Destinie The Scepters promis'd of imperious Rome In stede of them shall crooked shepehookes beare Needles or forkes or guide the carte or plough Ah learne t' endure your birth and high estate Forget my babes and bend to force of fate Farwell my babes farwell my heart is clos'd With pittie and paine my selfe with death enclos'd My breath doth faile Farwell for euermore Your Sire and me you shall see neuer more Farwell sweet care farwell Chil. Madame Adieu Cl. Ah this voice killes me Ah good Gods I swound I can no more I die Eras. Madame alas And will you yeld to woe Ah speake to vs Eu, Come Children Chil. We come Eu. Follow we our chance The Gods shall guide vs Char. O too cruell lot O too hard chaunce Sister what shall we do What shall we do alas if murthring darte Of death arriue while that in slumbring swound Halfe dead she lie with anguish ouergone Er, Her face is frozen Ch. Madame for Gods loue Leaue vs not thus bid vs yet first farwell Alas wepe ouer Antony Let not His bodie be without due rites entomb'd Cl. Ah ah Char. Madame Cl. Ay me Ch. How fainte she is Cl. My Sisters holde me vp How wretched I How cursed am and was there euer one By Fortunes hate into more dolours throwne Ah weeping Niobe although thy heart Beholds it selfe enwrap'd in causefull woe For thy dead children that a sencelesse rocke With griefe become on Sipylus thou stand'st In endles teares yet didst thou neuer feele The weights of griefe that on my heart do lie Thy Children thou mine I poore soule haue lost And lost their Father more then them I waile Lost this faire realme yet me the heauens wrath Into a stone not yet transformed hath Phaetons sisters daughters of the Sunne Which waile your brother falne into the streames Of stately Po the Gods vpon the bankes Your bodies to banke-louing Alders turn'd For me I sigh I ceasles wepe and waile And heauen pittiles laughes at my woe Reuiues renewes it still and in the ende Oh cruelty doth death for comfort lend Die Cleopatra then no longer stay From Antony who thee at Styx attends Go ioyne thy Ghost with his and sob no more Without his loue within these tombes enclos'd Eras. Alas yet let vs wepe lest sodaine death From him our teares and those last duties take Vnto his tombe we owe Ch. Ah let vs wepe While moisture lasts then die before his feete Cl. Who furnish will mine eies with streaming teares My boiling anguish worthily to waile Waile thee Antony Antony my heart Alas how much I weeping liquor want Yet haue mine eies quite drawne their Condits drie By long beweeping my disastred harmes Now reason is that from my side they sucke First vitall moisture then the vitall bloud Then let the bloud from my sad eies outflowe And smoking yet with thine in mixture grow Moist it and heat it newe and neuer stop All watring thee while yet remaines one drop Ch. Antony take our teares this is the last Of all the duties we to thee can yelde Before we die Er. These sacred obseques Take Antony and take them in good parte Cl. O Goddesse thou whom Cyprus doth adore Venus of Phaphos bent to worke vs harme For olde Iulus broode if thou take care Of Caesar why of vs tak'st thou no care Antony did descend as well as he From thine owne Sonne by long enchained line And might haue rul'd by one and selfe same fate True Troian bloud the stately Romain state Antony poore Antony my deare soule Now but a blocke the bootie of a tombe Thy life thy heat is lost thy coullour gone And hideous palenes on thy face hath seaz'd Thy eies two Sunnes the lodging place of loue Which yet for tents to warlike Mars did serue Lock'd vp in lidds as faire daies cherefull light Which darkenese flies do winking hide in night Antony by our true loues I thee beseeche And by our hearts sweete sparks haue set on fire Our holy mariage and the tender ruthe Of our deare babes knot of our amitie My dolefull voice thy eare let entertaine And take me with thee to the hellish plaine Thy wife thy frend heare Antony ô heare My sobbing sighes if here thou be or there Liued thus long the winged race of yeares Ended I haue as Destinie decreed Flourish'd and raign'd and taken iust reuenge Of him who me both hated and despisde Happie alas too happie if of Rome Only the fleete had hither neuer come And now of me an Image great shall goe Vnder the earth to bury there my woe What say I where am I ô Cleopatra Poore Cleopatra griefe thy reason reaues No no most happie in this happles case To die with thee and dieng thee embrace My bodie ioynde with thine my mouth with thine my mouth whose moisture burning sighes haue dried To be in one selfe tomble and one selfe chest And wrapt with thee in one selfe sheete to rest The sharpest torment in my heart I feele Is that I stay from thee my heart this while Die will I straight now now streight will I die And streight with thee a wandring shade will be Vnder the Cypres trees thou haunt'st alone Where brookes of hell do falling seeme to mone But yet I stay and yet thee ouerliue That ere I die due rites I may thee giue A thousand sobbes I from my brest will teare With thousand plaints thy funeralls adorne My haire shall serue for thy oblations My boiling teares for thy effusions Mine eies thy fire for out of them the flame Which burnt thy heart on me enamour'd came Wepe my companions weepe and from your eies Raine downe on him of teares a brinish streame Mine can no more consumed by the coales Which from my brest as from a furnace rise Martir your breasts with multiplied blowes With violent hands teare of your hanging haire Outrage your face alas why should we seeke Since now we die our beauties more to keepe I spent in teares not able more to spende But kisse him now what rests me more to doe Then let me kisse you you faire eies my light Front seat of honor face most firce most faire O neck ô armes ô hands ô breast where death O mischiefe comes to choake vp vitall breath A thousand kisses thousand thousand more Let you my mouth for honors farewell giue That in this office weake my limmes may growe Fainting on you and fourth my soule may flow At Rams bury 26. of Nouember 1590 Printed at London by P. S. for William Ponsonby 1595