I am marble constant; now the fleeting moon
No planet is of mine.
(V. ii. 238.)
And the scene that follows with the banalities and trivialities of the clown who supplies the aspics among the figs, brings into relief the loneliness of a queenly nature and a great sorrow. Yet not merely the loneliness, but the potency as well. Who would have given the frivolous waiting-women of the earlier scenes credit for devotion and heroism? Yet inspired by her example they learn their lesson and are ready to die as nobly as she. Iras has spoken for them all:
Finish, good lady; the bright day is done,
And we are for the dark.
(V. ii. 193.)
Now she brings the robe and crown Cleopatra wore at Cydnus, and then, like Eros, ushers the way. Charmian stays but to close the eyes and arrange the diadem of her dead mistress:
Downy windows, close;
And golden Phoebus never be beheld