It’s Cleopatra alas! alas, it’s she,
It’s she augments the torment of thy paine,
Betraies thy loue, thy life alas! betraies,
Cæsar to please, whose grace she seekes to gaine:
With thought her Crowne to saue, and fortune make
Onely thy foe which common ought haue beene.
If her I alwaies lou’d, and the first flame
Of her heart-killing loue shall burne me last:
Iustly complaine I she disloyall is,
Nor constant is, euen as I constant am,