adations which must attend her captivity, and let
it be observed, that those which she anticipates are precisely such as a
vain, luxurious, and haughty woman would especially dread, and which
only true virtue and magnanimity could despise. Cleopatra could have
endured the loss of freedom; but to be led in triumph through the
streets of Rome is insufferable. She could stoop to Caesar with
dissembling courtesy, and meet duplicity with superior art; but "to be
chastised" by the scornful or upbraiding glance of the injured
Octavia--"rather a ditch in Egypt!"

If knife, drugs, serpents, have
Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe.
Your wife, Octavia, with her modest eyes,
And still conclusion,[75] shall acquire no honor
Demurring upon me.

Now Iras, what think'st thou?
Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shall be shown
In Rome as well as I. Mechanic slaves,
With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall
Uplift us to the view. In their thick breaths,
Rank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded,
And forc'd to drink their vapor.

IRAS.

The gods forbid!

CLEOPATRA.

Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras. Saucy lictors
Will catch at us like strumpets; and scald rhymers
Ballad us out o' tune. The quick comedians
Extemporally will stage us, and present
Our Alexandrian revels. Antony
Shall be brought drunken forth; and I shall see
Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness.

She then calls for her diadem, her robes of state, and attires herself
as if "again for Cydnus, to meet Mark Antony." Coquette to the last, she
must make Death proud to take her, and die, "phoenix like," as she had
lived, with all the pomp of preparation--luxurious in her despair.

The death of Lucretia, of Portia, of Arria, and others who died "after
the high Roman fashion," is sublime according to the Pagan ideas of
virtue, and yet none of them so powerfully affect the imagination as the
catastrophe of Cleopatra. The idea of this frail, timid, wayward woman,
dying with heroism from the mere force of passion and will, takes us by
surprise. The Attic elegance of her mind, her poetical imagination, the
pride of beauty and royalty predominating to the last, and the sumptuous
and picturesque accompaniments with which she surrounds herself in
death, carry to its extreme height that effect of contrast