ABSTRACT
The Tragedy of Cleopatra 435 Shall death divide our bodies now asunder? Must thine in Egypt, mine in Italie, Be kept the Monuments of Fortunes wonder? If any powres be there whereas thou art, 1 130 (Sith our country gods betray our case,) o worke they may their gracious helpe impart, To save thy wofull wife from such disgrace. Do not permit she should in triumph shew The blush of her reproach, joyn'd with thy shame: But (rather) let that hatefull tyrant know, That thou and I had powre t'avoyde the same. But what, do I spend breath and ydle winde,l In vaine invoking a conceived ayde? Why do I not my selfe occasion finde 1 140 To breake the bounds wherein my selfe am staide? Words are for them that can complaine and live, Whose melting hearts composd of baser frame, Can to their sorrowes, time and leasure give, But Cleopatra may not do the same. No Antony, thy love requireth more: A lingring death, with thee deserves no merite, I must my selfe force open wide adore To let out life, and so unhouse my spirit. These hands must breake the prison of my soule II 50 To come to thee, there to enjoy like state, As doth the long-pent solitarie 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 serve a life-desiring wife, Who doing them, t'have done enough doth deeme. My hart bloud should the purple flowers have beene, Which he ere upon thy Tombe to thee are olfred, No smoake but dying breath should here bin scene, 1160 And this it had bin too, had I bin sulfred. But what have I save these bare hands to doe it? And these weake fingers are not yron-poynted: They cannot pierce the flesh bc'ing put unto it, And I of all meanes else am disappointed. But yet I must a way and meanes seeke, how To come unto thee, whatsoere I do.1 o Death, art thou so hard to come by now,
