Post 11.23.2014.10

Cleopatra:  Noblest of men, woo't die?
Hast thou no care of me?  Shall I abide
In this dull world, which in thy absence is
No better than a sty?  O!  See, my women,
The crown o' the earth doth melt.  My lord!
O!  wither'd is the garland of the war,
The soldier's pole is fall'n; youn boys and girls
Are level now with men; the odds is gone,
And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting moon.

Act IV, Scene 15