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My desolation does begin to make A better life. ’Tis paltry to be Caesar; Not being Fortune, he’s but Fortune’s knave, A minister of her will: and it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds; Which shackles accidents and bolts up change; Which sleeps, and never palates more the dug, The beggar’s nurse and Caesar’s.
My despair is starting to make A better life for me. It’s worthless to be Caesar; He’s just a pawn of Fortune’s, doing her bidding: It’s something great to do the one thing that ends all others; The thing that controls all the accidents of life and shuts out change; That sleeps and never again longs for comfort, The comfort of the poor and Caesar’s nurse.
Caesar sends greeting to the Queen of Egypt; And bids thee study on what fair demands Thou mean’st to have him grant thee.
Caesar sends his greetings to the Queen of Egypt, And asks you to think carefully about what fair requests You want him to grant.
What’s thy name?
What’s your name?
My name is Proculeius.
My name is Proculeius.
Antony Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but I do not greatly care to be deceived, That have no use for trusting. If your master Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him, That majesty, to keep decorum, must No less beg than a kingdom: if he please To give me conquer’d Egypt for my son, He gives me so much of mine own, as I Will kneel to him with thanks.
Antony Told me about you, told me to trust you; but I don’t care much for trusting, Since I have no need for it. If your master Wants to make a queen into his beggar, you should tell him, That royalty, to maintain its dignity, must Beg just as much as a kingdom: if he wants To give me conquered Egypt for my son, He’s giving me what’s already mine, and I’ll Thank him for it, bowing down in gratitude.
Be of good cheer; You’re fall’n into a princely hand, fear nothing: Make your full reference freely to my lord, Who is so full of grace, that it flows over On all that need: let me report to him Your sweet dependency; and you shall find A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness, Where he for grace is kneel’d to.
Don’t worry; You’ve fallen into the hands of someone noble, fear nothing: Feel free to put your full trust in my lord, Who is so generous, his kindness flows over To everyone in need: let me tell him How sweetly you rely on him, and you’ll find A conqueror who will plead for kindness, Just as others kneel to him for grace.
Pray you, tell him I am his fortune’s vassal, and I send him The greatness he has got. I hourly learn A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly Look him i’ the face.
Please tell him I am his servant, and I send him The greatness he has gained. I learn every day The lesson of obedience, and would happily Look him in the face.
This I’ll report, dear lady. Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied Of him that caused it.
I’ll tell him this, dear lady. Take comfort, for I know he feels pity For the troubles he caused you.
You see how easily she may be surprised:
You see how easily she can be deceived:
Guard her till Caesar come.
Guard her until Caesar arrives.
Royal queen!
Royal queen!
O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen:
Oh Cleopatra! you’ve been captured, queen:
Quick, quick, good hands.
Hurry, hurry, good hands.
Hold, worthy lady, hold:
Hold on, noble lady, hold on:
Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this Relieved, but not betray’d.
Don’t do yourself this harm, you are in this Rescued, not betrayed.
What, of death too, That rids our dogs of languish?
What, even death too, That takes our dogs’ suffering away?
Cleopatra, Do not abuse my master’s bounty by The undoing of yourself: let the world see His nobleness well acted, which your death Will never let come forth.
Cleopatra, Don’t misuse my master’s generosity by Destroying yourself: let the world see His nobility well demonstrated, which your death Will prevent from ever showing.
Where art thou, death? Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen Worthy many babes and beggars!
Where are you, death? Come here, come! come, come, and take a queen Worthy of many children and beggars!
O, temperance, lady!
Oh, moderation, lady!
Sir, I will eat no meat, I’ll not drink, sir; If idle talk will once be necessary, I’ll not sleep neither: this mortal house I’ll ruin, Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I Will not wait pinion’d at your master’s court; Nor once be chastised with the sober eye Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up And show me to the shouting varletry Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus’ mud Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies Blow me into abhorring! rather make My country’s high pyramides my gibbet, And hang me up in chains!
Sir, I won’t eat, I won’t drink, sir; If pointless chatter is necessary, I won’t sleep either: I’ll destroy this mortal body, Let Caesar do what he will. Know, sir, that I Will not wait shackled at your master’s court; Nor ever be scolded by the watchful eyes Of dull Octavia. Should they lift me up And parade me in front of the noisy rabble Of judgmental Rome? I’d rather be buried in a ditch in Egypt And let it be a peaceful grave for me! I’d rather lie naked on the mud of the Nile, And let the flies blow me into disgust! I’d rather make My country’s great pyramids my gallows, And hang me in chains!
You do extend These thoughts of horror further than you shall Find cause in Caesar.
You are taking These thoughts of horror further than you should Given what Caesar will actually do.
Proculeius, What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows, And he hath sent for thee: for the queen, I’ll take her to my guard.
Proculeius, What you’ve done, your master Caesar knows, And he has sent for you: as for the queen, I’ll take her into my custody.
So, Dolabella, It shall content me best: be gentle to her.
So, Dolabella, That will satisfy me the most: be kind to her.
To Caesar I will speak what you shall please, If you’ll employ me to him.
To Caesar, I’ll say whatever you want, If you’ll ask me to speak to him.
Say, I would die.
Tell him, I want to die.
Most noble empress, you have heard of me?
Most noble empress, do you know who I am?
I cannot tell.
I can’t say.
Assuredly you know me.
Surely you must know me.
No matter, sir, what I have heard or known. You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams; Is’t not your trick?
It doesn’t matter, sir, what I’ve heard or known. You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams; Isn’t that your habit?
I understand not, madam.
I don’t understand, madam.
I dream’d there was an Emperor Antony: O, such another sleep, that I might see But such another man!
I dreamt there was an Emperor Antony: Oh, if only I could have such a dream again, And see another man like him!
If it might please ye,--
If it might please you,--
His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck A sun and moon, which kept their course, and lighted The little O, the earth.
His face was like the heavens; and there was A sun and moon in it, which kept their course, And lit up The little O, the earth.
Most sovereign creature,--
Most royal lady,--
His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear’d arm Crested the world: his voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, There was no winter in’t; an autumn ’twas That grew the more by reaping: his delights Were dolphin-like; they show’d his back above The element they lived in: in his livery Walk’d crowns and crownets; realms and islands were As plates dropp’d from his pocket.
His legs stretched across the ocean: his raised arm Topped the world: his voice was like the sound Of all the planets in tune, and that to friends; But when he wanted to shake the world, He was like thunder. As for his generosity, There was no winter in it; it was like autumn, Growing more as it was harvested: his pleasures Were like dolphins; they showed their backs above The water they lived in: in his service, Crowns and kingdoms walked about; Realms and islands were Like coins dropping from his pocket.
Cleopatra!
Cleopatra!
Think you there was, or might be, such a man As this I dream’d of?
Do you think there was, or could be, a man like The one I dreamt about?
Gentle madam, no.
No, gentle lady, I don’t.
You lie, up to the hearing of the gods. But, if there be, or ever were, one such, It’s past the size of dreaming: nature wants stuff To vie strange forms with fancy; yet, to imagine And Antony, were nature’s piece ’gainst fancy, Condemning shadows quite.
You’re lying, even the gods can hear you. But if there ever was such a man, It’s beyond what dreams can imagine: nature doesn’t have the material To compete with strange ideas; yet, to think Antony could be nature’s match against fantasy, Would be to completely deny the shadows of imagination.
Hear me, good madam. Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it As answering to the weight: would I might never O’ertake pursued success, but I do feel, By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites My very heart at root.
Please listen, madam. Your loss is as great as you are, and you carry it As one would expect given its weight: I only wish that I could never Experience the success that chases after you, but I do feel, In the echo of your grief, a pain that strikes Right to my heart.
I thank you, sir, Know you what Caesar means to do with me?
Thank you, sir, Do you know what Caesar plans to do with me?
I am loath to tell you what I would you knew.
I’m reluctant to tell you what I wish you didn’t know.
Nay, pray you, sir,--
Please, sir,--
Though he be honourable,--
Even though he is honorable,--
He’ll lead me, then, in triumph?
So, he’s going to parade me in a triumph?
Madam, he will; I know’t.
Yes, madam, he will; I know it.
Which is the Queen of Egypt?
Which one is the Queen of Egypt?
It is the emperor, madam.
That’s the emperor, madam.
Arise, you shall not kneel: I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt.
Get up, you don’t need to kneel: I beg you, get up; get up, Egypt.
Sir, the gods Will have it thus; my master and my lord I must obey.
Sir, the gods Want it this way; my master and my lord I must obey.
Take to you no hard thoughts: The record of what injuries you did us, Though written in our flesh, we shall remember As things but done by chance.
Don’t think badly of me: The record of the wrongs you did us, Even though they’re written on our bodies, we’ll remember As things that just happened by chance.
Sole sir o’ the world, I cannot project mine own cause so well To make it clear; but do confess I have Been laden with like frailties which before Have often shamed our sex.
Greatest of men, I can’t explain my own case as well To make it clear; but I admit I’ve Been weighed down by the same weaknesses that, in the past, Have often shamed women.
Cleopatra, know, We will extenuate rather than enforce: If you apply yourself to our intents, Which towards you are most gentle, you shall find A benefit in this change; but if you seek To lay on me a cruelty, by taking Antony’s course, you shall bereave yourself Of my good purposes, and put your children To that destruction which I’ll guard them from, If thereon you rely. I’ll take my leave.
Cleopatra, know, We’ll be lenient rather than harsh: If you commit to our plans, Which are very kind toward you, you’ll find A benefit in this change; but if you try To punish me, by following Antony’s path, you’ll deprive yourself Of my good intentions, and lead your children To a destruction I’ll protect them from, If you rely on that. I’ll take my leave.
And may, through all the world: ’tis yours; and we, Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord.
And may that happen, across the world: it’s yours; and we, Your symbols and signs of victory, will Hang wherever you want. Here, my good lord.
You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra.
You’ll give me advice on everything concerning Cleopatra.
This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels, I am possess’d of: ’tis exactly valued; Not petty things admitted. Where’s Seleucus?
This is the list of money, silver, and jewels, I have: it’s exactly valued; No small items included. Where’s Seleucus?
Here, madam.
Here, madam.
This is my treasurer: let him speak, my lord, Upon his peril, that I have reserved To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus.
This is my treasurer: let him speak, my lord, At his own risk, that I have kept Nothing for myself. Speak the truth, Seleucus.
Madam, I had rather seal my lips, than, to my peril, Speak that which is not.
Madam, I’d rather keep quiet than, at my own risk, Say something that isn’t true.
What have I kept back?
What have I kept back?
Enough to purchase what you have made known.
Enough to buy what you’ve already made known.
Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve Your wisdom in the deed.
Don’t blush, Cleopatra; I approve Your wisdom in this act.
See, Caesar! O, behold, How pomp is follow’d! mine will now be yours; And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine. The ingratitude of this Seleucus does Even make me wild: O slave, of no more trust Than love that’s hired! What, goest thou back? thou shalt Go back, I warrant thee; but I’ll catch thine eyes, Though they had wings: slave, soulless villain, dog! O rarely base!
Look, Caesar! Oh, look, How pomp follows! mine will now be yours; And, if we change places, yours would be mine. The ingratitude of this Seleucus makes Me almost mad: Oh, slave, not worth trusting More than hired love! What, you’re leaving? You’ll Go back, I’m sure of it; but I’ll catch your eyes, Even if they had wings: slave, heartless villain, dog! Oh, shamefully low!
Good queen, let us entreat you.
Good queen, please, let us beg you.
O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this, That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me, Doing the honour of thy lordliness To one so meek, that mine own servant should Parcel the sum of my disgraces by Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar, That I some lady trifles have reserved, Immoment toys, things of such dignity As we greet modern friends withal; and say, Some nobler token I have kept apart For Livia and Octavia, to induce Their mediation; must I be unfolded With one that I have bred? The gods! it smites me Beneath the fall I have.
Oh Caesar, what a terrible shame this is, That you, graciously visiting me here, Doing the honor of your high rank To someone so humble, that my own servant should Divide the total of my humiliations by Adding his jealousy to it! Tell me, good Caesar, That I have kept some small, unimportant things, Meaningless trinkets, things of such importance As we give to modern friends; and say, Some more valuable gift I have kept aside For Livia and Octavia, to encourage Their intervention; must I be exposed With someone I have raised? The gods! It strikes me Deep beneath my downfall.
Prithee, go hence; Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits Through the ashes of my chance: wert thou a man, Thou wouldst have mercy on me.
Please, go away; Or I will reveal the ashes of my soul Through the ruins of my fortune: if you were a man, You would show mercy to me.
Forbear, Seleucus.
Stop, Seleucus.
Be it known, that we, the greatest, are misthought For things that others do; and, when we fall, We answer others’ merits in our name, Are therefore to be pitied.
Let it be known, that we, the greatest, are misunderstood For things others do; and, when we fall, We take on others’ virtues in our name, And are therefore to be pitied.
Cleopatra, Not what you have reserved, nor what acknowledged, Put we i’ the roll of conquest: still be’t yours, Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe, Caesar’s no merchant, to make prize with you Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer’d; Make not your thoughts your prisons: no, dear queen; For we intend so to dispose you as Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed, and sleep: Our care and pity is so much upon you, That we remain your friend; and so, adieu.
Cleopatra, Not what you have saved, nor what you’ve admitted, Will we count in the list of victories: still, it’s yours, Give it as you wish; and believe, Caesar is no merchant, to bargain with you Over things that merchants sell. So cheer up; Don’t let your thoughts imprison you: no, dear queen; Because we plan to treat you in a way that You will help guide us. Eat, and sleep: Our concern and sympathy are so great for you, That we remain your friend; and so, goodbye.
My master, and my lord!
My master, and my lord!
Not so. Adieu.
Not so. Goodbye.
He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not Be noble to myself: but, hark thee, Charmian.
He speaks to me, girls, he speaks to me, telling me I should not Be noble to myself: but listen, Charmian.
Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are for the dark.
Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are heading into the darkness.
Hie thee again: I have spoke already, and it is provided; Go put it to the haste.
Hurry back: I have already spoken, and it’s arranged; Go put it into action quickly.
Madam, I will.
Madam, I will.
Where is the queen?
Where is the queen?
Behold, sir.
Here she is, sir.
Dolabella!
Dolabella!
Madam, as thereto sworn by your command, Which my love makes religion to obey, I tell you this: Caesar through Syria Intends his journey; and within three days You with your children will he send before: Make your best use of this: I have perform’d Your pleasure and my promise.
Madam, as I promised, and sworn to do by your command, Which my love makes me feel duty-bound to follow, I’ll tell you this: Caesar is heading through Syria On his way to a journey, and within three days, He will send you and your children ahead: Make the best of this: I’ve done What you wanted and kept my word.
Dolabella, I shall remain your debtor.
Dolabella, I’ll always owe you for this.
I your servant, Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Caesar.
I’m your servant, Goodbye, good queen; I must go see Caesar.
Farewell, and thanks.
Farewell, and thank you.
Now, Iras, what think’st thou? Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown In Rome, as well as I mechanic slaves With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths, Rank of gross diet, shall be enclouded, And forced to drink their vapour.
Now, Iras, what do you think? You, an Egyptian doll, will be put on display In Rome, just like ordinary workers With dirty aprons, rules, and hammers, will Lift us up for everyone to see; their stinking breaths, And their unhealthy food will cloud the air, And they’ll be forced to breathe it in.
The gods forbid!
The gods forbid!
Nay, ’tis most certain, Iras: saucy lictors Will catch at us, like strumpets; and scald rhymers Ballad us out o’ tune: the quick comedians Extemporally will stage us, and present Our Alexandrian revels; Antony Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness I’ the posture of a whore.
No, it’s definitely going to happen, Iras: rude officers Will grab at us, like whores; and annoying poets Will mock us out of tune: the fast-talking actors Will improvise and perform our Egyptian parties; Antony Will be brought out drunk, and I’ll see Some squeaky-voiced boy playing Cleopatra, mocking my grandeur In the pose of a prostitute.
O the good gods!
Oh, the gods help us!
Nay, that’s certain.
No, it’s absolutely certain.
I’ll never see ’t; for, I am sure, my nails Are stronger than mine eyes.
I’ll never see it; because I’m sure my nails Are stronger than my eyesight.
Why, that’s the way To fool their preparation, and to conquer Their most absurd intents.
Well, that’s the way To trick their plans, and to defeat Their most ridiculous intentions.
Now, Charmian! Show me, my women, like a queen: go fetch My best attires: I am again for Cydnus, To meet Mark Antony: sirrah Iras, go. Now, noble Charmian, we’ll dispatch indeed; And, when thou hast done this chare, I’ll give thee leave To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all. Wherefore’s this noise?
Now, Charmian! Show me, my women, like a queen: go fetch My best clothes: I’m going to Cydnus again, To meet Mark Antony: Iras, go. Now, noble Charmian, we’ll get this done; And, when you’ve done this task, I’ll let you play Until the end of time. Bring the crown and everything. What’s all this noise about?
Here is a rural fellow That will not be denied your highness presence: He brings you figs.
Here’s a country man Who won’t be denied your highness’s presence: He’s brought you figs.
Let him come in.
Let him come in.
What poor an instrument May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty. My resolution’s placed, and I have nothing Of woman in me: now from head to foot I am marble-constant; now the fleeting moon No planet is of mine.
What a simple thing Can do such a noble act! He’s giving me freedom. I’ve made up my mind, and I have no more woman in me: Now, from head to toe, I’m as unshakable as marble; now the changing moon Is no longer part of me.
This is the man.
This is the man.
Avoid, and leave him.
Get out, and leave him.
Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there, That kills and pains not?
Do you have the little worm from the Nile, That kills without causing pain?
Truly, I have him: but I would not be the party that should desire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal; those that do die of it do seldom or never recover.
Yes, I have him: but I wouldn’t want to be the one To suggest you touch him, because his bite Is deadly; those who die from it rarely or Never recover.
Rememberest thou any that have died on’t?
Do you remember anyone who’s died from it?
Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, but something given to lie; as a woman should not do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the biting of it, what pain she felt: truly, she makes a very good report o’ the worm; but he that will believe all that they say, shall never be saved by half that they do: but this is most fallible, the worm’s an odd worm.
Lots of people, both men and women. I heard about one Just yesterday: a very honest woman, But prone to lying; as women sometimes do, But only when it’s honest lying: she died from the Worm’s bite, she talked about the pain she went through: Honestly, she gives a great report of the worm; But anyone who believes everything they say Won’t be saved by half of what they do: but this is sure, The worm is a strange one.
Get thee hence; farewell.
Go away; goodbye.
I wish you all joy of the worm.
I wish you all the best with the worm.
Farewell.
Goodbye.
You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind.
You have to understand this, look, the worm will do what it’s supposed to.
Ay, ay; farewell.
Yes, yes; goodbye.
Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the keeping of wise people; for, indeed, there is no goodness in worm.
Look, you can’t trust the worm unless it’s with wise people, because, really, there’s nothing good about a worm.
Take thou no care; it shall be heeded.
Don’t worry; it will be taken care of.
Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is not worth the feeding.
Very well. Don’t give it anything, please, because it’s not worth feeding.
Will it eat me?
Will it eat me?
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.
You must not think I’m so naive that I don’t know even the devil won’t eat a woman. I know that a woman is a meal fit for the gods, unless the devil dresses her up. But honestly, these devilish rascals do a lot of harm to the gods with their women, because out of every ten they make, the devils ruin five.
Well, get thee gone; farewell.
Fine, go away; goodbye.
Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy o’ the worm.
Yes, indeed: I wish you happiness with the worm.
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me: now no more The juice of Egypt’s grape shall moist this lip: Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act; I hear him mock The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men To excuse their after wrath: husband, I come: Now to that name my courage prove my title! I am fire and air; my other elements I give to baser life. So; have you done? Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell.
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Eternal desires within me: no more will Egypt’s wine touch these lips: Hurry, hurry, good Iras; quickly. I think I hear Antony calling; I see him wake up To praise my brave act; I hear him mock Caesar’s luck, which the gods give men To excuse their later anger: husband, I’m coming: Now, in that name, let my courage prove my right! I am fire and air; I’ll give the rest of me To a simpler life. So, are you done? Come then, and feel the last warmth of my lips. Goodbye, kind Charmian; Iras, goodbye.
Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? If thou and nature can so gently part, The stroke of death is as a lover’s pinch, Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still? If thus thou vanishest, thou tell’st the world It is not worth leave-taking.
Do I have the snake’s venom on my lips? Are you falling? If you and nature can part so gently, Then death feels like a lover’s touch, It hurts, but it’s wanted. Are you lying still? If you disappear this way, you’re showing the world That it’s not worth saying goodbye.
Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say, The gods themselves do weep!
Break apart, thick cloud, and rain; so I can say, The gods themselves are crying!
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, thou mortal wretch,
This makes me seem low: If she meets Antony first, He’ll ask for her, and spend that kiss Which is my heaven to receive. Come, you mortal wretch,
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak, That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass Unpolicied!
With your sharp teeth, untie this tangled knot Of life at once: poor venomous fool Be angry, and end it. Oh, if only you could speak, So I could hear you call Caesar a fool Unwise!
O eastern star!
Oh, eastern star!
Peace, peace! Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, That sucks the nurse asleep?
Quiet, quiet! Can’t you see my baby at my breast, Who is lulling the nurse to sleep?
O, break! O, break!
Oh, break! Oh, break!
As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,-- O Antony!--Nay, I will take thee too.
As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,-- Oh Antony!--No, I will join you too.
What should I stay--
Why should I stay--
In this vile world? So, fare thee well. Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies A lass unparallel’d. Downy windows, close; And golden Phoebus never be beheld Of eyes again so royal! Your crown’s awry; I’ll mend it, and then play.
In this terrible world? Well, goodbye. Now boast, death, for in your hands lies A girl without equal. Close the soft windows; And let golden Apollo never again be seen By eyes so royal! Your crown is crooked; I’ll fix it, and then play.
Where is the queen?
Where is the queen?
Speak softly, wake her not.
Speak quietly, don’t wake her.
Caesar hath sent--
Caesar has sent--
Too slow a messenger.
The messenger’s too slow.
O, come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee.
Hurry up, hurry! I can almost feel it.
Approach, ho! All’s not well: Caesar’s beguiled.
Come here, something’s wrong: Caesar’s been deceived.
There’s Dolabella sent from Caesar; call him.
Dolabella’s been sent by Caesar; call for him.
What work is here! Charmian, is this well done?
What’s going on here! Charmian, is this the right thing to do?
It is well done, and fitting for a princess Descended of so many royal kings. Ah, soldier!
It’s the right thing, and fitting for a princess Who comes from so many royal kings. Ah, soldier!
How goes it here?
What’s happening here?
All dead.
They’re all dead.
Caesar, thy thoughts Touch their effects in this: thyself art coming To see perform’d the dreaded act which thou So sought’st to hinder.
Caesar, your thoughts Are reflected in this: you’re about to see The terrible thing you tried so hard to stop.
O sir, you are too sure an augurer; That you did fear is done.
Oh sir, you’re too sure of yourself; What you feared has already happened.
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.
She was at her bravest in the end, She aimed herself at our goals, and, being royal, Did things her way. How did they die? I don’t see any blood.
Who was last with them?
Who was with them last?
A simple countryman, that brought her figs: This was his basket.
A simple farmer who brought her figs: This was his basket.
Poison’d, then.
Poisoned, then.
O Caesar, 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.
Oh Caesar, This Charmian was alive just a moment ago; she stood and spoke: I found her adjusting the crown On her dead mistress; she stood there trembling And suddenly dropped.
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.
Oh, noble fragility! If they had swallowed poison, it would show By swelling on the outside: but she looks like she’s asleep, As if she’s trying to catch another Antony In the strength of her graceful charm.
Here, on her breast, There is a vent of blood and something blown: The like is on her arm.
Here, on her chest, There’s a wound where blood has come out and something else is swollen: The same thing is on her arm.
This is an aspic’s trail: and these fig-leaves Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves Upon the caves of Nile.
This is the mark of an asp’s bite: and these fig-leaves Have a slimy residue, just like the leaves of the asp Found near the caves of the Nile.
Most probable That so she died; for her physician tells me She hath pursued 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.
It’s most likely That this is how she died; her doctor told me She had been trying endless ways To die easily. Take up her bed; And remove her women from the tomb: She’ll be buried next to her Antony: No grave on earth will hold Two such famous people. Great events like these Affect those who make them; and their story is As much about pity as it is about the glory That made them worth mourning. Our army will Attend her funeral in a solemn procession; Then we’ll head to Rome. Come, Dolabella, witness The grand order of this solemn occasion.