 | The Tragedie of Cleopatra |  |
Actus I.
Scæna I.
Cleopatra.Cæsario. Rodon.
Come
Rodon, here, conuey from out this coast
This pretious iem, the chiefest I haue left,
The iewell of my soule I value most,
My deare Cæsario: Saue him, saue my theft,
Guide him to India, lead him farre from hence,
Conceale him where secure he may remaine,
Till better fortune call him backe from thence,
And Egypts peace be reconcil'd againe,
For this is he that may our hopes bring backe,
The rising Sunne of our declining state:
These be the hands that may restore our wracke,
And raise the shattered ruines made of late:
He may giue limits to the boundlesse pride
Of fierce Octauius, and abate his might,
Great Iulius ofspring, he may come to guide
The Empire of the world, as his by right.
This pretious iem, the chiefest I haue left,
The iewell of my soule I value most,
My deare Cæsario: Saue him, saue my theft,
Guide him to India, lead him farre from hence,
Conceale him where secure he may remaine,
Till better fortune call him backe from thence,
And Egypts peace be reconcil'd againe,
For this is he that may our hopes bring backe,
The rising Sunne of our declining state:
These be the hands that may restore our wracke,
And raise the shattered ruines made of late:
He may giue limits to the boundlesse pride
Of fierce Octauius, and abate his might,
Great Iulius ofspring, he may come to guide
The Empire of the world, as his by right.
Ro.
No doubt he may, deare Soueraigne when the rage
Of this confused storme is ouerpast,
That furiously now beates vpon this age,
And, may be, is too violent at last.
Into th'Ascendent of felicitie,
And makes the round and full of glory now,
May come to waine likes others wretchednes:
No tyrant can prescribe to iniurie:
Kings Rights may oft be sicke, but neuer die.
Ch.
Rodon, my selfe, those turnes of Chance haue seen
And known both sides of fortune, worst & best
And therefore he, whose birth, whose sexe hath beene
Worthier then mine, why should not he reblest
Turne backe to rule the scepter of this land?
Which ah, how well it would become this hand?
And known both sides of fortune, worst & best
And therefore he, whose birth, whose sexe hath beene
Worthier then mine, why should not he reblest
Turne backe to rule the scepter of this land?
Which ah, how well it would become this hand?
O how he seemes the modell of his syre,
Now doe I gaze my Cæsar in his face:
Such was his gate, so did his lookes aspire,
Such was his threatning brow, such was his grace;
Hie shouldred, and his forehead euen as hie,
And had he not, ay me, bin borne so late,
He might haue rul'd the worlds wide Monarchy.
And now haue bin the Champion of our State.
But O deare sonne, the time yeilds no delaies,
Sonne of my youth, flie hence, O flie, be gone,
Reserue thy selfe, ordain'd for better daies,
For much thou hast to ground thy hopes vpon.
Leaue me thy wofull mother to indure
The fury of this tempest here alone,
Who cares not for her selfe, so thou be sure:
Thou maiest reuenge when others can but mone.
Rodon will see thee safe, Rodon will guid
Thee in the way, thou shalt not need to feare,
Rodon my faithfull seruant will prouide
What shall be best for thee, take thou no care.
And O good Rodon, tender well his youth,
The wayes are long, and dangerous euery where;
I vrge it not, that I doe doubt thy truth,
But mothers cast the worst, and alwaies feare.
“The absent danger greater still appeares,
“Lesse feares he, who is neere the thing he feares.
Now doe I gaze my Cæsar in his face:
Such was his gate, so did his lookes aspire,
Such was his threatning brow, such was his grace;
Hie shouldred, and his forehead euen as hie,
And had he not, ay me, bin borne so late,
He might haue rul'd the worlds wide Monarchy.
And now haue bin the Champion of our State.
But O deare sonne, the time yeilds no delaies,
Sonne of my youth, flie hence, O flie, be gone,
Reserue thy selfe, ordain'd for better daies,
For much thou hast to ground thy hopes vpon.
Leaue me thy wofull mother to indure
The fury of this tempest here alone,
Who cares not for her selfe, so thou be sure:
Thou maiest reuenge when others can but mone.
Rodon will see thee safe, Rodon will guid
Thee in the way, thou shalt not need to feare,
Rodon my faithfull seruant will prouide
What shall be best for thee, take thou no care.
And O good Rodon, tender well his youth,
The wayes are long, and dangerous euery where;
I vrge it not, that I doe doubt thy truth,
“The absent danger greater still appeares,
“Lesse feares he, who is neere the thing he feares.
Rod.
Madame, nor can, nor haue I other gage;
To lay for this assurance of my troth,
But th'earnest of that faith, which all my age
Your grace hath tri'd: and which againe by oath
Vnto the care of this sweet Prince I vow,
Whose safetie I will tender with more heede
Then mine owne life. For consider how
The life of Egypt stands on his good speed:
And doubt not Madame Cæsar left vs hath
The posterne gate of Nylus free, to flie,
And India lies beyond the bounds of wrath,
And owes no homage to his Empery.
And there we shall find welcome, there remaine
Safe, till good fortune brings vs backe againe.
Cle.
But ah, I know not what presaging thought
My spirit suggests of ominous euent:
And yet perhaps my loue doth make me dote
On idle shadowes, which my feares present.
But yet the memorie of mine owne fate,
Makes me feare his and yet why should I feare?
His fortune may in time regaine his state,
And he with greater glory gouerne here.
But yet I feare the Genius of our race,
By some more powerfull spirit comes ouerthrowne,
Our blood must be extinct, in my disgrace,
And Egypt haue no more kings of their owne.
My spirit suggests of ominous euent:
And yet perhaps my loue doth make me dote
On idle shadowes, which my feares present.
But yet the memorie of mine owne fate,
Makes me feare his and yet why should I feare?
His fortune may in time regaine his state,
And he with greater glory gouerne here.
But yet I feare the Genius of our race,
By some more powerfull spirit comes ouerthrowne,
Our blood must be extinct, in my disgrace,
And Egypt haue no more kings of their owne.
Then let him stay, and let vs fall together,
If it before-decreed that we must fall:
Yet who knowes what may come, let him go thither
What Marchant in one vessell venters all?
Let vs diuide our starres, goe, goe my sonne:
Let not the fate of Egypt find you here.
Trie if so be thy Destinie can shun
The common wracke of vs, by beeing there.
But who is he found euer yet defence
Against the heauens, or hide him any where?
Then what need I to send thee so farre hence
To seeke thy death, that maiest as well die here?
And here die with thy mother, die in rest,
Not trauelling to what will come to thee:
Why should we leaue our blood vnto the East,
When Egypt may a tombe sufficient be?
If it before-decreed that we must fall:
Yet who knowes what may come, let him go thither
What Marchant in one vessell venters all?
Let vs diuide our starres, goe, goe my sonne:
Let not the fate of Egypt find you here.
The common wracke of vs, by beeing there.
But who is he found euer yet defence
Against the heauens, or hide him any where?
Then what need I to send thee so farre hence
To seeke thy death, that maiest as well die here?
And here die with thy mother, die in rest,
Not trauelling to what will come to thee:
Why should we leaue our blood vnto the East,
When Egypt may a tombe sufficient be?
O my diuided soule what shall I doe,
Whereon shall now my resolution rest?
What were I best resolue to yield vnto?
When both are bad, how shall I know the best?
Stay; I may hap to worke with Cæsar now,
That he may yield him to restore thy right.
Goe; Cæsar neuer will consent that thou
So neere in blood shalt be so great in might.
Then take him Rodon, goe my sonne, farewell.
But stay: there's something I would gladly say,
Yet nothing now. But O God speed you well,
Lest saying more, that more might make thee stay.
Yet let me speake, perhaps it is the last
That euer I shall speake to thee, my sonne,
Doe mothers vse to part in such post haste?
What must I end when I haue scarce begun?
Ah no (deare heart) tis no such slender twine
Wherewith the knot is tyde twixt me and thee:
That blood within thy vaines came out of mine,
Parting from thee, I part from part of me.
And therefore I must speake. Yet what? O sonne,
Though I haue made an end, I haue done.
Whereon shall now my resolution rest?
What were I best resolue to yield vnto?
When both are bad, how shall I know the best?
Stay; I may hap to worke with Cæsar now,
That he may yield him to restore thy right.
Goe; Cæsar neuer will consent that thou
So neere in blood shalt be so great in might.
Then take him Rodon, goe my sonne, farewell.
But stay: there's something I would gladly say,
Yet nothing now. But O God speed you well,
Lest saying more, that more might make thee stay.
Yet let me speake, perhaps it is the last
That euer I shall speake to thee, my sonne,
Doe mothers vse to part in such post haste?
What must I end when I haue scarce begun?
Ah no (deare heart) tis no such slender twine
Wherewith the knot is tyde twixt me and thee:
That blood within thy vaines came out of mine,
Parting from thee, I part from part of me.
And therefore I must speake. Yet what? O sonne,
Though I haue made an end, I haue done.
Cæs.
Deare soueraigne mother, suffer not your care
To tumult thus with th'honor of your state:
The miseries of ours no strangers are,
Nor is it new to be vnfortunate.
And this good, let your many sorrowes past
Worke on your heart t'inharden it at last.
Looke but on all the neighbour States beside,
Of Europe, Afrique, Asia, and but note
What Kings? what States? hath not the Romane pride
Ransackt, confounded, or else seruile brought?
Aod since we are so borne that by our fate,
Against the stormes we cannot now beare saile,
And that the boistrous current of their state
Will beare downe all our fortunes, and preuaile:
Let vs yet temper with the time: and thinke
The windes may change, and al these States opprest,
Colleagu'd in one, may turne againe to sincke
Their Greatnesse, who now holds them all distrest:
And I may lead their troupes, and at the walls
Of greedie Rome, reuenge the wronged blood
Of th'innocent, which now for vengeance calls,
And doe th'inthralled Prouinces this good.
And therefore my deare mother doe not leaue
To hope the best, I doubt not my returne.
I shall doe well, let nor your griefe bereaue
Your eies of seeing those comforts when they turne.
To tumult thus with th'honor of your state:
The miseries of ours no strangers are,
And this good, let your many sorrowes past
Worke on your heart t'inharden it at last.
Looke but on all the neighbour States beside,
Of Europe, Afrique, Asia, and but note
What Kings? what States? hath not the Romane pride
Ransackt, confounded, or else seruile brought?
Aod since we are so borne that by our fate,
Against the stormes we cannot now beare saile,
And that the boistrous current of their state
Will beare downe all our fortunes, and preuaile:
Let vs yet temper with the time: and thinke
The windes may change, and al these States opprest,
Colleagu'd in one, may turne againe to sincke
Their Greatnesse, who now holds them all distrest:
And I may lead their troupes, and at the walls
Of greedie Rome, reuenge the wronged blood
Of th'innocent, which now for vengeance calls,
And doe th'inthralled Prouinces this good.
And therefore my deare mother doe not leaue
To hope the best, I doubt not my returne.
I shall doe well, let nor your griefe bereaue
Your eies of seeing those comforts when they turne.
Cleop,
Well, worthy sonne, and worthily the sonne
Of such a father. And in this thou shew'st
From whence thou camst; I say no more: be gone,
Grow in thy vertue, as in years thou grow'st
Exeunt.
Cleopatra
sola.
Poore comforts can they giue, whom our distresse
Makes miserable, and like comfortlesse.
Alas, such forced cheering from our owne,
Vpon our griefes doe more affliction lay,
To thinke, that by our meanes they are vndone,
On whom we sought our glory to conuay.
Well then, here is a sad daies worke begun:
For first, betweene these armes, my Antony
Expir'd this day: and whilst I did vphold
His struggling limmes in his last extasie,
The yet vnclosed wound, which his owne sword
Had made before, burst out, imbru'd my wombe,
And here with these faire collours of my Lord
Which now I weare: I come from out a tombe,
To send away this deerest part of me
Vnto distresse, and now whilst time I haue,
I got t'interre my spouse. So shall I see
My sonne dispatcht for death, my loue t'his graue.
Makes miserable, and like comfortlesse.
Alas, such forced cheering from our owne,
Vpon our griefes doe more affliction lay,
To thinke, that by our meanes they are vndone,
On whom we sought our glory to conuay.
For first, betweene these armes, my Antony
Expir'd this day: and whilst I did vphold
His struggling limmes in his last extasie,
The yet vnclosed wound, which his owne sword
Had made before, burst out, imbru'd my wombe,
And here with these faire collours of my Lord
Which now I weare: I come from out a tombe,
To send away this deerest part of me
Vnto distresse, and now whilst time I haue,
I got t'interre my spouse. So shall I see
My sonne dispatcht for death, my loue t'his graue.
Exit.
SCEMA. II.
Octauius.Dircetus. Gallus. Proculeius.
What newes brings now Dircetus from our foe,
Will Antony yet struggle beeing vndone?
Will Antony yet struggle beeing vndone?
Dir.
Noe, Cæsar he will neuer vexe thee more.
His worke is ended, Anthony hath done.
Here is the sword that hath cut off the knot
Of his intangled fortunes, and hath freed
His grieued life from his dishonor'd blot.
Oct.
Who is the man that did effect this deed?
Dir.
His owne hand and this sword hath done the deed.
Oct.
Relate Dirceus of the manner how.
Dir.
My Lord when Anthony had made this last
And desperate triall of his fortunes, and
With all the forces which he had amast
From out each coast and corner of the land.
Had brought them to their worke, perceiuing how
His ships in stead of blowes shooke hands with yours
And that his powers by land were vanquisht now,
Backe to the city he with griefe retires,
Confounded with his fortunes, crying out,
That Cleopatra had betraid his trust.
Shee all amaz'd, and fearing least he mought
In this conceipt to farther rages burst,
Hastes to the tombe which shee erected had
(A stately vault to Isis temple ioyn'd)
And thence caus'd word be sent how she was dead,
And had dispatcht her selfe, through griefe of mind.
And desperate triall of his fortunes, and
With all the forces which he had amast
From out each coast and corner of the land.
His ships in stead of blowes shooke hands with yours
And that his powers by land were vanquisht now,
Backe to the city he with griefe retires,
Confounded with his fortunes, crying out,
That Cleopatra had betraid his trust.
Shee all amaz'd, and fearing least he mought
In this conceipt to farther rages burst,
Hastes to the tombe which shee erected had
(A stately vault to Isis temple ioyn'd)
And thence caus'd word be sent how she was dead,
And had dispatcht her selfe, through griefe of mind.
Which when Antonius heard, he straight burst forth
Into this passion: what? and hast thou then
Preuented me, braue Queene, by thy great worth
Hath Cleopatra taught the worke of men?
Hath shee outgone me in the greatest part
Of resolution, to die worthily?
And must I follow? doth shee disappoint
Me, of th'example to teach her to die?
Come Eros, doe this seruice for thy Lord,
The best and greatest pleasure thou canst doe:
Imploy this weapon here; come, make this sword
That wone me honor, now to saue it to.
It is a deed of glory, Eros, this:
For these drie deaths are womanish and base.
It is for an vnsinewed feeblenesse
T'expire in feathers, and t'attend disgrace.
Ther's nothing easier Eros then to die,
For when men cannot stand, thus they may flie.
Into this passion: what? and hast thou then
Preuented me, braue Queene, by thy great worth
Hath Cleopatra taught the worke of men?
Hath shee outgone me in the greatest part
Of resolution, to die worthily?
And must I follow? doth shee disappoint
Me, of th'example to teach her to die?
Come Eros, doe this seruice for thy Lord,
The best and greatest pleasure thou canst doe:
Imploy this weapon here; come, make this sword
That wone me honor, now to saue it to.
It is a deed of glory, Eros, this:
For these drie deaths are womanish and base.
It is for an vnsinewed feeblenesse
T'expire in feathers, and t'attend disgrace.
Ther's nothing easier Eros then to die,
For when men cannot stand, thus they may flie.
Eros, his late infranchis'd seruant, takes
The sword, as if he would haue done thee deede,
And on it falls himselfe: and thereby makes
Antonius more confus'd to see him bleed,
Who should haue first euented out his breath.
O Eros, said he, and hath fortune quite
Forsaken me? must I b'out gone in all?
What? can I not by losing get a right?
Shall I not haue the vpper hand to fall
In death? must both a woman, and a slaue
The start before me of this glory haue?
With that he takes his sword, and downe he falls
Vpon the dismall point, which makes a gate
Spacious enough for death, but that the walls
Of nature, skorn'd to let it in thereat.
And he suruiues his death. Which when his loue,
His royall Cleopatra vnderstood,
Shee sends with speed his body to remoue,
The body of her loue imbru'd with blood.
Which brought vnto her tombe, (lest that the prease
Which came with him, might violate her vow)
Shee drawes, him vp in rowles of taffatie
T'a window at the top, which did allow
A little light vnto her monument.
The sword, as if he would haue done thee deede,
And on it falls himselfe: and thereby makes
Antonius more confus'd to see him bleed,
Who should haue first euented out his breath.
Forsaken me? must I b'out gone in all?
What? can I not by losing get a right?
Shall I not haue the vpper hand to fall
In death? must both a woman, and a slaue
The start before me of this glory haue?
With that he takes his sword, and downe he falls
Vpon the dismall point, which makes a gate
Spacious enough for death, but that the walls
Of nature, skorn'd to let it in thereat.
And he suruiues his death. Which when his loue,
His royall Cleopatra vnderstood,
Shee sends with speed his body to remoue,
The body of her loue imbru'd with blood.
Which brought vnto her tombe, (lest that the prease
Which came with him, might violate her vow)
Shee drawes, him vp in rowles of taffatie
T'a window at the top, which did allow
A little light vnto her monument.
There Charmion, and poore Eras, two weake maids
Foretir'd with watching, and their mistresse care,
Tngd at the pulley hauing no other ayds,
And vp they hoise the swounding body there
Of pale Antonius showring out his blood
On th'vnder-lookers, which there gazing stood.
Foretir'd with watching, and their mistresse care,
Tngd at the pulley hauing no other ayds,
And vp they hoise the swounding body there
Of pale Antonius showring out his blood
On th'vnder-lookers, which there gazing stood.
And when they had now wrought him vp half way
(Their feeble powers vnable more to doe)
The frame stood still, the body at a stay,
When Cleopatra all her strength thereto
Puts, with what vigor loue, and care could vse,
So that it mooues againe, and then againe
It comes to stay. When shee afresh renewes
Her hold, and with reinforced power doth straine,
And all the weight of her weake bodie laies,
Whose surcharg'd heart more then her body wayes.
At length shee wrought him vp, and takes him in,
Laies his yet breathing body on her bed,
Applies all meanes his sences to rewinne
Stops vp his wound againe that freshly bled.
Calls him her Lord, her spouse, her Emperor.
Forgets her owne distresse, to comfort his,
And interpoints each comfort with a kisse.
(Their feeble powers vnable more to doe)
The frame stood still, the body at a stay,
When Cleopatra all her strength thereto
Puts, with what vigor loue, and care could vse,
So that it mooues againe, and then againe
It comes to stay. When shee afresh renewes
Her hold, and with reinforced power doth straine,
And all the weight of her weake bodie laies,
Whose surcharg'd heart more then her body wayes.
Laies his yet breathing body on her bed,
Applies all meanes his sences to rewinne
Stops vp his wound againe that freshly bled.
Calls him her Lord, her spouse, her Emperor.
Forgets her owne distresse, to comfort his,
And interpoints each comfort with a kisse.
He after some small rest and cherishing
Raises himselfe, and frames a forced cheere,
Wils Cleopatra leaue her languishing,
And like herselfe these accidents to beare,
Considering they had had so full a part
Of glory in this world: and that the turne
Of Change was come, and Fortune would depart.
T'was now in vaine for her to stand and mourne:
But rather ought shee seeke her race to free,
By all the meanes (her honor sau'd) shee can,
And none about Octauius trust, said he,
But Proculeius she's an honest man.
Raises himselfe, and frames a forced cheere,
Wils Cleopatra leaue her languishing,
And like herselfe these accidents to beare,
Considering they had had so full a part
Of glory in this world: and that the turne
Of Change was come, and Fortune would depart.
T'was now in vaine for her to stand and mourne:
But rather ought shee seeke her race to free,
By all the meanes (her honor sau'd) shee can,
And none about Octauius trust, said he,
But Proculeius she's an honest man.
And for my selfe, suffize I haue not fail'd
In any acte of worth: and now in this,
A Roman hath but here a Roman quayld,
And onely but by fortunes variousnes.
And yet herein I may this glory take,
That he who me vndoes, my sword did make.
In any acte of worth: and now in this,
A Roman hath but here a Roman quayld,
And onely but by fortunes variousnes.
And yet herein I may this glory take,
That he who me vndoes, my sword did make.
This said, he calls for wine, which he requires
Perhaps not for his thirst, but t'end his breath:
Which hauing taken, forthwith he expires:
And thus haue I declar'd Antonius death.
Perhaps not for his thirst, but t'end his breath:
Which hauing taken, forthwith he expires:
And thus haue I declar'd Antonius death.
Octa.
I grieue to heare this much. And I protest
By all the gods, I am no cause of this,
He sought his ruine, wrought his owne vnrest;
And here these letters are my witnesses,
How oft I labour'd to recall him home,
And woo'd his friendship, su'd to him for loue:
Your selues my fellow cittizens can proue.
But Gallus you, and Proculeius haste
With speed vnto the cittie to preuent
Lest Cleopatra desperat now at last,
Bereaue vs of the onely ornament,
Which is herselfe, that can our triumphs grace.
Or fire the treasure which she hath amast
Within that vault, of all the precious stuffe
That Egypt yields and disappoint at last
Our trauels of the benefit thereof.
Supple her heart with hopes of kinde reliefe.
Giue words of oyle, vnto her wounds of griefe.
CHORVS.
Behold
what furies still
Torment their tortur'd brest,
Who by their doing ill,
Haue wrought the worlds vnrest.
Which when being most distrest,
Yet more to vexe their sprite,
The hideous face of sinne,
(In formes they must detest)
Stands euer in their sight.
Their conscience still within
Th'eternall larum is
That euer barking dog that calls vpon their misse.
Torment their tortur'd brest,
Who by their doing ill,
Haue wrought the worlds vnrest.
Which when being most distrest,
Yet more to vexe their sprite,
The hideous face of sinne,
(In formes they must detest)
Stands euer in their sight.
Their conscience still within
Th'eternall larum is
That euer barking dog that calls vpon their misse.
No meanes at all to hide
Man from himselfe can find:
No way to start aside
Out from the hell of minde.
But in himselfe confin'd,
He still sees sinne before:
And winged-footed paine,
That swiftly comes behind,
The which is euermore,
The sure and certaine gaine
Impietie doth get,
And wanton lose respect, that doth it selfe forget.
Man from himselfe can find:
No way to start aside
But in himselfe confin'd,
He still sees sinne before:
And winged-footed paine,
That swiftly comes behind,
The which is euermore,
The sure and certaine gaine
Impietie doth get,
And wanton lose respect, that doth it selfe forget.
And Cleopatra now,
Well sees the dangerous way
She tooke, and car'd not how,
Which led her to decay:
And likewise makes vs pay
For her disordered lust,
The int'rest of our blood:
Or liue a seruile pray,
Vnder a hand vniust,
As others shall thinke good.
This hath her riot wonne,
And thus shee hath her state, her selfe, and vs vndone.
Well sees the dangerous way
She tooke, and car'd not how,
Which led her to decay:
And likewise makes vs pay
For her disordered lust,
The int'rest of our blood:
Or liue a seruile pray,
Vnder a hand vniust,
As others shall thinke good.
This hath her riot wonne,
And thus shee hath her state, her selfe, and vs vndone.
Now euery mouth can tell,
What close was muttered:
How that shee did not well,
To take the course shee did,
For now is nothing hid,
Of what feare did restraine,
No secret closely done,
But now is vttered.
The text is made most plaine
That flatterie glos'd vpon,
The bed of sinne reueal'd,
And all the luxurie that shame would haue conceal'd.
What close was muttered:
How that shee did not well,
To take the course shee did,
For now is nothing hid,
Of what feare did restraine,
No secret closely done,
But now is vttered.
The text is made most plaine
That flatterie glos'd vpon,
The bed of sinne reueal'd,
And all the luxurie that shame would haue conceal'd.
The scene is broken downe,
And all vncouered lies,
The purple Actors knowne
Scarce men, whom men despise.
The complots of the wise
Proue imperfections smoake;
And all what wonder gaue
To pleasure gazing eies,
Lies scattered, dasht, all broke.
Thus much beguiled haue
Poore vnconsiderate wights,
These momentary pleasures, fugitiue delights.
And all vncouered lies,
The purple Actors knowne
Scarce men, whom men despise.
The complots of the wise
Proue imperfections smoake;
And all what wonder gaue
To pleasure gazing eies,
Lies scattered, dasht, all broke.
Thus much beguiled haue
Poore vnconsiderate wights,
These momentary pleasures, fugitiue delights.
| The Tragedie of Cleopatra | |