Page 2553 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

I’ll not sleep neither. This mortal house I’ll ruin,
Do Cæsar what he can. Know, sir, that I
Will not wait pinion’d at your master’s court,
Nor once be chastis’d with the sober eye

Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up, [55]
And show me to the shouting varletry
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
Be gentle grave unto me, rather on Nilus’ mud

Lay me stark-nak’d, and let the water-flies
Blow me into abhorring; rather make [60]
My country’s high pyramides my gibbet,
And hang me up in chains.

PROCULEIUS
You do extend

These thoughts of horror further than you shall
Find cause in Cæsar.

Enter Dolabella.

DOLABELLA
Proculeius,
What thou hast done thy master Cæsar knows, [65]

And he hath sent for thee: for the queen,
I’ll take her to my guard.

PROCULEIUS
So, Dolabella,
It shall content me best: be gentle to her;

(To Cleopatra.) To Cæsar I will speak what you shall please,
If you’ll employ me to him.

CLEOPATRA
Say, I would die. [70]
(Exit Proculeius.)

DOLABELLA
Most noble empress, you have heard of me?