Cleo. You command me,
And I am dumb.
Vent. I like this well he fhows authority.
Ant. That I derive my ruin
Cleo. Oh, Heav'ns! I ruin you !
Ant. You promifed me your filence, and you break it Ere I have fcarce begun.
Ant. When I beheld you first, it was in Egypt,
Ere Cæfar faw your eyes; you gave me love,
And were too young to know it; that I fettled
Your father in his throne, was for your fake ;
I left th' acknowledgment for time to ripen.
Cæfar step'd in, and with a greedy hand
Pluck'd the green fruit, ere the first blush of red,
Yet cleaving to the bough. He was my lord,
And was, befide, too great for me to rival.
But I deferv'd you first, tho' he enjoy'd you.
When, after, I beheld you in Cilicia,
An enemy to Rome, I pardon'd you.
Cleo. I clear'd myfelf-
Ant. Again you break your promife.
I lov'd you ftill, and took your weak excuses,
Took you into my bofom, ftain'd by Cæfar,
And not half mine: I went to Egypt with you,
And hid me from the bus'ness of the world,
Shut out enquiring nations from my fight,
To give whole years to you.
Vent. Yes, to your fhame be't spoken.
Ant. How 1 lov'd
Witnefs ye days and nights, and all ye hours,
That danc'd away with down upon your feet,
As all your bus'nefs were to count my paffion.
One day paft by, and nothing faw but love;
Another came, and ftill 'twas only love;
The funs were weary'd out with looking on,
And I untir'd with loving.
I faw you ev'ry day, and all the day,
And ev'ry day was still but as the first;
So eager was I ftill to fee you more.
Vent. 'Tis all too true.
Ant. Fulvia, my wife, grew jealous, As the indeed had reason, rais'd a war In Italy, to call me back.
Vent. But yet
You went not.
Ant. While within your arms I lay,
The world fell mouldring from my hands each hour, And left me scarce a grafp, I thank your love for't. Vent. Well pufh'd; that laft was home.
Ant. If I have urg'd a falfhood, yes; elfe, not.
Your filence fays I have not. Fulvia dy'd;
(Pardon, you gods, with my unkindness dy'd.)
To fet the world at peace, I took Octavia.
This Cæfar's fifter; in her pride of youth,
And flow'r of beauty did Iwed that lady,
Whom blushing I must praise, altho' I left her.
You call'd; my love obey'd the fatal fummons:
This rais'd the Roman arms; the caufe was yours.
I would have fought by land, where I was ftronger;
You hinder'd it: yet, when I fought at sea,
Forfook me fighting; and, Oh, ftain to honour!
Oh, lafting fhame! I knew not that I fled,
Vent. What hafte she made to hoift her purple fails; And, to appear magnificent in flight,
Drew half our strength away.
Ant. All this you caus'd.
And, would you multiply inore ruins on me?
This honeft man, my beít, my only friend,
Has gather'd up the fhipwreck of my fortunes;
Twelve legions I have left, my laft recruits,
And you have watch'd the news, and bring your eyes
To feize them too. If you have ought to answer,
Now speak, you have free leave.
Alex. She stands confounded:
Defpair is in her eyes.
Vent. Now lay a figh i'th'way, to ftop his paffage:
Prepare a tear, and bid it for his legions;
'Tis like they shall be sold.
Cleo. How fhall I plead my caufe, when you my judge Already have condemn'd me? Shall I bring
bore me for my advocate?
That now is turn'd against me, that destroys me;
For love once past, is, at the best, forgotten,
But oftner fours to hate: 'twill please my lord
To ruin me, and therefore I'll be guilty.
But, could I once have thought it would have pleas'd you,
That you would pry, with narrow searching eyes
Into my faults, fevere to my destruction,
And watching all advantages with care,
That ferve to make me wretched? Speak, my lord,
For I end here. Though I deferve this ufage,
Was it like you to give it ?
Ant. Oh, you wrong me,
To think I fought this parting, or defir'd
T'accufe you more than what will clear myself,
And justify this breach.
Cleo. Thus low I thank you;
And fince my innocence will not offend,
I fhall not blufh to own it.
Vent. After this
I think she'll blush at nothing.
Cleo. You feem griev'd,
(And therein you are kind) that Cæfar first
Enjoy'd my love, though you deserv'd it better.
For, had I first been yours, it would have fav'd
My fecond choice; I never had been his,
And ne'er had been but yours. But Cæfar first,
You fay, poffefs'd my love. Not fo, my lord:
He firft poffefs'd my perfon, you my lov⚫ ;
Cæfar lov'd me; but I lov'd Anthony.
'If I endur'd him after, 'twas because
I judg'd it due to the first name of men ;
And, half constrain'd, I gave, as to a tyrant,
• What he would take by force.'
Vent. Oh fyren! fyren!
Yet grant that all the love fhe boasts were true,
Has the not ruin'd you? I still urge that,
The fatal confequence.
Cleo. The confequence indeed,
For I dare challenge him, my greateft foe,
To fay it was defign'd: 'tis true, I lov'd you,
And kept you far from an uneafy wife,
Yes, but he'll fay, you left Octavia for me:
And can you blame me to receive that love,
Which quitted fuch defert for worthless me?
How often have I wifh'd fome other Cæfar,
Great as the first, and as the second young,
Would court my love, to be refus'd for you
Vent. Words, words! But Actium, Sir, rem ember
Actium.
Cleo. Ev'n there, I dare his malice. True, I counsell'd To fight at fea; but, I betray'd you not.
I fled, but not to the enemy.
Would I had been a man, not to have fear'd,
For none would then have envy'd me your friendship,
Who envy me your love.
Ant. We're both unhappy;
If nothing elfe, yet our ill fortune parts us.
Speak! Would you have me perish by my stay?
Cleo. If as a friend you ask my judgment, go;
If as a lover, ftay. If you must perish-
'Tis a hard word; but stay.
Vent. See now the effects of her fo boasted love!
She strives to drag you down to ruin with her;
But, could the fcape without you, Oh, how foon
Would the let go her hold, and haste to shore,
And never look behind!
Cleo. Then judge my love by this.
Could I have borne
[Giving Anthony a writing.
A life or death, a happinefs or woe
From yours divided, this had giv'n me means.
Ant. By Hercules, the writing of Octavius !
'I know it well: 'tis that profcribing hand,
'Young as it was, that led the way to mine,
'And left me but the fecond place in murder'
See, fee, Ventidius! here he offers Egypt,
And joins all Syria to it, as a prefent,
So, in requital, fhe forfakes my fortunes,
And joins her arms with his.
Cleo. And yet you leave me !
You leave me, Anthony; and yet
Indeed I do: I have refus'd a kingdom,
For I could part with life, with any thing,
But only you. Oh, let me die but with you !
Is that a hard request?
Ant. Next living with you,
"Tis all that Heav'n can give.
• Alex. He melts; we conquer.'
Cleo. No; you fhall go: your int'reft calls you hence; Yes; your dear int'reft pulls too ftrong for these Weak arms to hold you here Go; leave me, soldier;
(For you're no more a lover :) leave me dying;
Push me all pale and panting from your bofom,
And when your march begins, let one run after,
Breathlefs almoft for joy, and cry, fhe's dead!
The foldiers fhout; you then perhaps may figh,
And muster all your Roman gravity;
Ventidius chides, and ftraight your brow clears up,
As I had never been.
Ant. Gods, 'tis too much! too much for man to bear!
Cleo. What is't for me then,
A weak forfaken woman, and a lover?
Here let me breathe my laft; envy me not
This minute in your arms! I'll die ' apace,
'As faft as e'er I can,' and end your trouble.
Ant. Die !-Rather let me perifh! Loofen'd nature Leap from its hinges, fink the props of Heav'n,And fall the fkies to crush the nether world.
My Eyes! my foul! my all!
Vent. And what's this toy,
In balance with your fortune, honour, fame?
• Ant. What is't, Ventidius! it out-weighs 'em all;
Why, we have more than conquer'd Cæfar now:
My queen's not only innocent, but loves me.
This, this is fhe who drags me down to ruin!'
But, could the fcape without me, with what haste
Would the let flip her hold, and make to shore,
And never look behind!
Down on thy knees, blafphemer as thou art,
And afk forgiveness of wrong'd innocence.
Vent. I'll rather die, than take it. Will you go?
Ant. Go! Whither? Go from all that's excellent!
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