It hard up: but

It was a hard thing for these women to do, to lift him up: but Cleopatra stowping downe with her head, putting to all her strength to her uttermost power, did lift him up with much a doe, and never let goe her hold, with the helpe of the women beneath that bad her be of good corage, and were as sorie to see her labor so, as she her selfe. So when she had gotten him in after that sorte, and layed him on a bed: she rent her garments upon him, clapping her brest, and scratching her face and stomake. Then she dried up his blood that had berayed his face, and called him her Lord, her husband, and Emperour, forgetting her owne miserie and calamity, for the pitie and compassion she tooke of him. Antonius made her ceasse her lamenting, and called for wine, either bicause he was a thirst, or else for that he thought thereby to hasten his death.l When he had dronke, he earnestly prayed her, and perswaded her, that she would seeke to save her life, if she could possible, without reproache and dishonor: and that chiefly she should trust Proculeius above any man else about Cresar. And as for him selfe, that she should not lament nor sorowe for the miserable chaunge of his fortune at the end of his dayes: but rather that she should thinke him the more fortunate, for the former triumphes and honors he had received, considering that while he lived he was the noblest and greatest Prince of the world, and that now he was overcome, not cowardly, but valiantly, a Romane by an other Romane.2 As Antonius gave the last gaspe, Proculeius came that was sent from Cresar.3 For after Antonius had thrust his sworde in him selfe, as they caried him into the tombes and monuments of Cleopatra, one of his gard called Dercetreus, tooke his sword with the which he had striken him selfe, and hidde it: then he secretly stale away, and brought Octavius Cresar the first newes of his death, and shewed him his sword that was bloodied.4 Cresar hearing these newes, straight withdrewe him selfe into a secret place of his tent, and there burst out with teares, lamenting his hard and miserable fortune, that had bene his frende and brother in law, his equall in the Empire, and companion with him in sundry great exploytes and battells.5 Then he called for all his frendes,6 and shewed them the letters Antonius had written to him, and his aunsweres also sent him againe, during their quarrell and strife: and how fiercely and prowdly the other answered him, to all just and reasonable matters he wrote unto him. After this, he sent Proculeius, and commaunded him to doe what he

could possible to get Cleopatra alive, fearing least otherwise all the treasure would be lost: and furthermore, he thought that if he could take Cleopatra, and bring her alive to Rome, she would marvelously beawtifie and sette out his triumphe.1 But Cleopatra would never put her selfe into Proculeius handes, although they spake together. For Proculeius came to the gates that were very thicke and strong, and surely barred, but yet there were some cranewes through the which her voyce might be heard, and so they without understoode, that Cleopatra demaunded the kingdome of /Egypt for her sonnes: and that Proculeius aunswered her, that she should be of good cheere, and 110t be affrayed to referre all unto Cresar. After he had viewed the place verie well, he came and reported her aunswere unto Cresar. Who immediatly sent Gallus to speake once againe with her, and bad him purposely hold her with talke, whilest Proculeius did set up a ladder against that high windowe, by the which Antonius was trised up, and came downe into the monument with two of his men hard by the gate, where Cleopatra stoode to heare what Gallus sayd unto her.2 One of her women which was shut in her monuments with her, saw Proculeius by chaunce as he came downe, and shreeked out: 0, poore Cleopatra, thou art taken. 3 Then when she sawe Proculeius behind her as she came from the gate, she thought to have stabbed her selfe in with a short dagger she ware of purpose by her side. But Proculeius came sodainly upon her, and taking her by both the hands,4 said unto her: Cleopatra, first thou shalt doe thy selfe great wrong, and secondly unto Cresar: to deprive him of the occasion and oportunitie, openly to shew his bountie and mercie, and to geve his enemies cause to accuse the most curteous and noble Prince that ever was, and to appeache him, as though he were a cruell and mercielesse man, that were not to be trusted. So even as he spake the word, he tooke her dagger from her, and shooke her clothes for feare of any poyson hidden about her. Afterwardes Cresar sent one of his infranchised men called Epaphroditus, I; whom he straightly charged to looke well unto her, and to beware in any case that she made not her selfe away: and for the rest, to use her with all the curtesie possible. And for him selfe, he in the meane time entred the citie of Alexandria, and as he went, talked with the Philosopher AlTius, and helde him by the hande, to the end that his contrie men should reverence him the more, bicause

they saw C<esar so highly esteeme and honor him.1 Then he went into the show place of exercises, and so up to his chaire of state which was prepared for him of a great height: and there according to his commaundement, all the people of Alexandria were assembled, who quaking for feare, fell downe on their knees before him, and craved mercie. C<esar bad them all stande up, and told them openly that he forgave the people, and pardoned the felonies and offences they had committed against him in this warre. First, for the founders sake of the same citie, which was Alexander the great: secondly, for the beawtie of the citie, which he muche esteemed and wondred at: thirdly, for the love he bare unto his verie frend Arrius. Thus did C<esar honor An'ius, who craved pardon for him selfe and many others, and specially for Philostratus, the eloquentest man of all the sophisters and Orators of his time, for present and sodaine speech: howbeit he falsly named him selfe an Academicke Philosopher. a Therefore, C<esar that hated his nature and condicions, would not heare his sute. Thereupon he let his gray beard grow long, and followed Arrius steppe by steppe in a long mourning gowne, still bussing in his eares this Greeke verse:

A wise man if that he be wise in deede, May by a wise man have the better speede.