Cleo. Welcome, thou kind deceiver! [Putting aside the leaves.
Thou best of thieves; who, with an easy key,
Dost open life, and, unperceived by us,
Even steal us from ourselves; discharging so
Death’s dreadful office, better than himself;
Touching our limbs so gently into slumber,
That death stands by, deceived by his own image,
And thinks himself but sleep.

Serap. The queen, where is she? [Within. The town is yielded, Caesar’s at the gates.

Cleo. He comes too late to invade the rights of death. 
Haste, bare my arm, and rouse the serpent’s fury.
                              [Holds out her arm, and draws it back.
Coward flesh,
Would’st thou conspire with Caesar to betray me,
As thou wert none of mine?  I’ll force thee to it,
And not be sent by him,
But bring myself, my soul, to Antony.
                        [Turns aside, and then shows her arm bloody.
Take hence; the work is done.

Serap. Break ope the door, [Within. And guard the traitor well.

Char. The next is ours.

Iras. Now, Charmion, to be worthy Of our great queen and mistress. [They apply the aspicks.

Cleo. Already, death, I feel thee in my veins: 
I go with such a will to find my lord,
That we shall quickly meet. 
A heavy numbness creeps through every limb,
And now ’tis at my head:  My eye-lids fall,
And my dear love is vanished in a mist. 
Where shall I find him, where?  O turn me to him,
And lay me on his breast!—­Caesar, thy worst;
Now part us, if thou canst. [Dies.
                    [IRAS sinks down at her feet, and dies; CHARMION
                     stands behind her chair, as dressing her head.

Enter SERAPION, two Priests, ALEXAS bound, Egyptians.

Priest. Behold, Serapion, what havock death has made!

Serap. ’Twas what I feared.—­ Charmion, is this well done?

Char. Yes, ’tis well done, and like a queen, the last Of her great race:  I follow her. [Sinks down; dies.

Alex. ’Tis true, She has done well:  Much better thus to die, Than live to make a holiday in Rome.

Serap. See, how the lovers sit in state together,
As they were giving laws to half mankind! 
The impression of a smile, left in her face,
Shows she died pleased with him for whom she lived. 
And went to charm him in another
Caesar’s just entering:  grief has now no leisure. 
Secure that villain, as our pledge of safety,
To grace the imperial triumph.—­Sleep, blest pair,
Secure from human chance, long ages out,
While all the storms of fate fly o’er your tomb;
  And fame to late posterity shall tell,
  No lovers lived so great, or died so well. [Exeunt.