which
prevails through her life and character. No arts, no invention could add
to the real circumstances of Cleopatra's closing scene. Shakspeare has
shown profound judgment and feeling in adhering closely to the classical
authorities; and to say that the language and sentiments worthily fill
up the outline, is the most magnificent praise that can be given. The
magical play of fancy and the overpowering fascination of the character
are kept up to the last, and when Cleopatra, on applying the asp,
silences the lamentations of her women:--

Peace! peace!
Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
That sucks the nurse to sleep?--

These few words--the contrast between the tender beauty of the image and
the horror of the situation--produce an effect more intensely mournful
than all the ranting in the world. The generous devotion of her women
adds the moral charm which alone was wanting: and when Octavius hurries
in too late to save his victim, and exclaims, when gazing on her--

She looks like sleep--
As she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil of grace,

the image of her beauty and her irresistible arts, triumphant even in
death, is at once brought before us, and one masterly and comprehensive
stroke consummates this most wonderful, most dazzling delineation.

I am not here the apologist of Cleopatra's historical character, nor of
such women as resemble her: I am considering her merely as a dramatic
portrait of astonishing beauty, spirit, and originality. She has
furnished the subject of two Latin, sixteen French, six English, and at
least four Italian tragedies;[76] yet Shakspeare alone has availed
himself of all the interest of the story, without falsifying the
character. He alone has dared to exhibit the Egyptian queen with all her
greatness and all her littleness--all her frailties of temper--all her
paltry arts and dissolute passions--yet preserved the dramatic propriety
and poetical coloring of the character, and awakened our pity for fallen
grandeur, without once beguiling us into sympathy with guilt and error.
Corneille has represented Cleopatra as a model of chaste propriety,
magnanimity, constancy, and every female virtue; and the effect is
almost ludicrous. In our own language, we have two very fine tragedies
on the story of Cleopatra: in that of Dryden, which is in truth a noble
poem, and which he himself considered his masterpiece, Cleopatra