CLEOPATRA
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have
Immortal longings in me. Now no more
The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip.
Yare, yare, good Iras; quick — methinks I hear
Antony call; I see him rouse himself
Cleopatra prepares for her ritualistic suicide to avoid being paraded through Rome as Caesar's captive. She dons her royal robes and crown, envisioning a reunion with Antony in the afterlife while applying a venomous asp to her breast. The scene captures her final transition from a defeated queen to a figure of 'fire and air.'
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CLEOPATRA
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have
Immortal longings in me. Now no more
The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip.
Yare, yare, good Iras; quick — methinks I hear
Antony call; I see him rouse himself
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