The Best of the World's Classics (All 10 Volumes). Henry Cabot Lodge. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Henry Cabot Lodge
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by Sir Thomas North.

      [104] The following description of Cleopatra's barge, taken from Shakespeare's "Antony and Cleopatra," when compared with the foregoing paragraph, will illustrate to the reader the closeness with which Shakespeare followed North:

      "The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,

       Burn'd on the water. The poop was beaten gold;

       Purple the sails, and so perfumed that

       The winds were love-sick with them. The oars were silver,

       Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made

       The water which they beat to follow faster,

       As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,

       It beggar'd all description: she did lie

       In her pavilion—cloth-of-gold of tissue—

       O'er-picturing that Venus where we see

       The fancy outwork nature. On each side her

       Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,

       With diverse colour'd fans, whose wind did seem

       To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,

       And what they undid did.

      "Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides,

       So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes,

       And made their bends adornings. At the helm

       A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle

       Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands,

       That yarely frame the office. From the barge

       A strange invisible perfume hits the sense

       Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast

       Her people out upon her; and Antony

       Enthron'd i' the market-place, did sit alone,

       Whistling to the air, which, but for vacancy,

       Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too

       And made a gap in nature."

      IV

      THE DEATH OF ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA[105]

       Table of Contents

      Now he had a man of his called Eros, whom he loved and trusted much, and whom he had long before caused to swear unto him, that he should kill him when he did command him: and then he willed him to keep his promise. His man drawing his sword, lift it up as though he had meant to have stricken his master: but turning his head at one side he thrust his sword into himself, and fell down dead at his master's foot. Then said Antony, O noble Eros, I thank thee for this, and it is valiantly done of thee, to shew me what I should do to my self, which thou couldst not do for me. Therewithal he took his sword, and thrust it into his belly, and so fell down upon a little bed. The wound he had killed him not presently, for the blood stinted a little when he was laid: and when he came somewhat to himself again, he prayed them that were about him to despatch him. But they all fled out of the chamber, and left him crying out and tormenting himself: until at last there came a secretary unto him called Diomedes, who was commanded to bring him unto the tomb or monument where Cleopatra was.

      When he heard that she was alive, he very earnestly prayed his men to carry his body thither, and so he was carried in his men's arms into the entry of the monument. Notwithstanding, Cleopatra would not open the gates, but came to the high windows, and cast out certain chains and ropes, in the which Antony was trussed: and Cleopatra her own self, with two women only, which she had suffered to come with her into these monuments, triced Antony up. They that were present to behold it, said they never saw so pitiful a sight. For, they plucked up poor Antony all bloody as he was, and drawing on with pangs of death, who holding up his hands to Cleopatra raised up himself as well as he could. It was a hard thing for these women to do, to lift him up: but Cleopatra stooping down with her head, putting to all her strength to her uttermost power, did lift him up with much ado, and never let go her hold, with the help of the women beneath that bade her be of good courage, and were as sorry to see her labour so, as she her self.

      So when she had gotten him in after that sort, and laid him on a bed: she rent her garments upon him, clapping her breast, and scratching her face and stomach. Then she dried up his blood that had berayed his face, and called him her lord, her husband, and emperor, forgetting her own misery and calamity, for the pity and compassion she took of him. Antony made her cease her lamenting, and called for wine, either because he was athirst, or else for that he thought thereby to hasten his death. When he had drunk, he earnestly prayed her, and persuaded her, that she would seek to save her life, if she could possible, without reproach and dishonour: and that chiefly she should trust Proculeius above any man else about Cæsar. And as for himself, that she should not lament nor sorrow for the miserable change of his fortune at the end of his days: but rather that she should think him the more fortunate, for the former triumphs and honours 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 Roman by another Roman.

      After this, he sent Proculeius, and commanded him to do what he could possible to get Cleopatra alive, fearing lest 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 marvellously beautify and set out his triumph. But Cleopatra would never put her self into Proculeius' hands, although they spake together. For Proculeius came to the gates that were very thick and strong, and surely barred, but yet there were some crannies through the which her voice might be heard, and so they without understood, that Cleopatra demanded the kingdom of Egypt for her sons: and that Proculeius answered her, That she should be of good cheer, and not be affrayed to refer all unto Cæsar. After he had viewed the place very well, he came and reported her answer unto Cæsar.