Vent. Or old age and a bed. Ant. Ay, there's his choice. Vent. And she that bribe. He would live, like a lamp, to the last wink, Be all the care of Heaven? Why should he lord it O'er fourscore thousand men, of whom each Is braver than himself? [one Vent. Sir, we lose time; the troops are mounted all. Ant. Then give the word to march. Enter ALEXAS. Alex. Great emperor, Ant. But I have no remembrance. Alex. Yes a dear one; Your slave, the queen— Ant. My mistress. Alex. Then your mistress. [soul, Your mistress would, she says, have sent her arm. Vent. Now, my best lord, in honour's name 1 ask you,, For manhood's sake, and for your own dear Touch not those poison'd gifts, [safety, Infected by the sender; touch them not; Lead, my de- Myriads of bluest plagues lie underneath 'em, And more than aconite has dipp'd the silk. Ant. Nay now you grow too cynical, Ventidius; In mighty arms renown'd above mankind, But in soft pity to th' oppress'd, a god; This message sends the mournful Cleopatra To her departing lord. Vent. Smooth sycophant! Alex. A thousand wishes, and ten thousand prayers, Millions of blessings wait you to the wars; Millions of sighs and tears she sends you too, And would have sent As many parting kisses to your lips; But those she fears have wearied you already. Vent. [Aside.] False crocodile! Alex. And yet she begs not now, you would not leave her, That were a wish too mighty for her hopes, And too presuming (for her low fortune, and your ebbing love) That were a wish for her most prosperous days, [kindness. Her blooming beauty, and your growing Ant. [Aside.] Well, I must man it out What would the queen? Alex. First to these noble warriors, who Your daring courage in the chase of fame, Ant. Let him speak, Ventidius. Alex. You, when his matchless valour bears With ardour too heroic, on his foes, With all the wealth of Egypt. Vent. Tell her, I'll none on't; I'm not asham'd of honest poverty; Ant. You might have spared that word. A lady's favour may be worn with honour. But what's to her, that now 'tis past for ever. Ant. [Going to tie it.] We soldiers are so awkward-Help me to tie it. Alex. In faith, my lord, we courtiers too are awkward In these affairs: so are all men indeed; Ant. Yes, freely. Alex. Then, my lord, fair hands alone Are fit to tie it; she who sent it can. Vent. Hell! death! this eunuch pander ruins you. You will not see her? [ALEXAS whispers an Attendunt. Ant. But to take my leave. Vent. Then I have wash'd an Ethiop. Y'are undone ! Y'are in the toils! y'are taken! y'are destroy'd! Her eyes do Cæsar's work. Ant. You fear too soon. I am constant to myself? I know my strength; And yet she shall not think me barbarous neither, Born in the depths of Afric; I'm a Roman, A guest, and kindly used, should bid fare well. Ant. I will be justified in all I do To late posterity, and therefore, hear me; With any truth, reproach me freely with it; Cleo. You command me, And I am dumb. Your silence says I have not. Fulvia died; (Pardon, you gods, with my unkindness died,) To set the world at peace, I took Octavia, This Cæsar's sister; in her pride of youth, And flower of beauty did I wed that lady, Whom, blushing, I must praise, although I left her: [mons; You call'd; my love obey'd the fatal sum- I would have fought by land, where I was Vent. What haste she made to hoist her pur- And to appear magnificent in flight, Vent. I like this well; he shows authority. Drew half our strength away. Ant. That I derive my ruin From you alone Cleo. O Heavens! I ruin you! Ant. All this you caused, And, would you multiply more ruins on me? This honest man, my best, my only friend, Ant. You promised your silence, and you Has gather'd up the shipwreck of my for break it, Ere I have scarce begun. Cleo. Well, I obey you. Ere Cæsar saw your eyes; you gave me love, Yet cleaving to the bough. He was my lord, you. When, after, I beheld you in Cilicia, Ant. Again you break your promise. I loved you still, and took your weak excuses, Took you into my bosom, stain'd by Cæsar, And not half mine: I went to Egypt with Witness ye days and nights, and all ye hours, I saw you every day, and all the day, Ant. Fulvia, my wife, grew jealous, Vent. But yet You went not. Ant. While within your arms I lay, The world fell mouldering from my hands each hour, [for't. And left me scarce a grasp, I thank your love Vent. Well push'd! that last was home. Cleo. Yet may I speak? Ant. If I have urged a falsehood, yes; else, not. tunes; Twelve legions I have left, my last recruits, And you have watch'd the news, and bring your eyes To seize them too. If you have ought to me; For love once past, is at the best forgotten. But oftener sours to hate: 'twill please my lord To ruin me, and, therefore, I'll be guilty. But, could I once have thought it would have pleased you, [eyes That you would pry, with narrow, searching Into my faults, severe to my destruction, And watching all advantages with care, That serve to make me wretched? Speak, my lord, For I end here. Though I deserve this usage, Was it like you to give it? Ant. O, you wrong me, To think I sought this parting, or desired T' accuse you more than what will clear myself, And justify this breach. Cleo. Thus low I thank you : And since my innocence will not offend, I think she'll blush at nothing. (And therein you are kind) that Cæsar first Enjoy'd my love, though you deserved it bet ter. first [ed For had I first been yours, it would have save- Vent. O, syren! syren! [true, Yet grant that all the love she boasts were Has she not ruin'd you? I still urge that, Cleo. The consequence indeed, Yes, but he'll say, you left Octavia for me: Cleo. Even there, I dare his malice. True, To fight at sea; but I betray'd you not. Who envy me your love. Ant. We're both unhappy; If nothing else, yet our ill fortune parts us. Speak! Would you have me perish by my stay? Cleo. If as a friend you ask my judgment, A life or death, a happiness or wo, Cleo. And yet you leave me! You leave me, Antony; and yet I love you. For I would part with life, with any thing, Ant. Next living with you, "Tis all that Heaven can give. Cleo. No; you shall go; your interest calls you hence; [these Yes; your dear interest pulls too strong for Weak arms to hold you here [Takes his hand. Go; leave me, soldier; (For you're no more a lover :) leave me dying; Push me all pale and panting from your bosom, And when your march begins, let one run after,. Breathless almost for joy, and cry, she's dead! The soldier's shout; you then perhaps may sigh, And muster all your Roman gravity; Ventidius chides, and straight your brow clears As I had never been. [up, Ant. Gods, 'tis too much! too much for man to bear. Cleo. What is't for me then, A weak, forsaken woman, and a lover? That I shall do some wild extravagance Vent. O women, women, women! all the gods Have not such power of doing good to man; As you of doing harm. [Exit. Ant. Our men are arm'd. Unbar the gate that looks to Cæsar's camp; I would revenge the treachery he meant me; And long security makes conquest easy. I'm eager to return before I go; For all the pleasures I have known, beat thick On my remembrance. How I long for night; That both the sweets of mutual love may try, And triumph once o'er Cæsar ere we die. ACT III. SCENE I. [Exeunt. Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMION, IRAS, ALEXAS, and Train; ANTONY and Romans. CLEOPATRA crowns ANTONY. Ant. My brighter Venus! Cleo. O my greater Mars! Ant. Thou join'st us well my love. There's no satiety of love in thee; Enjoy'd, thou still art new; perpetual spring Is in thy arms; the ripen'd fruit but falls, And blossoms rise to fill its empty place, And I grow rich by giving. Enter VENTIDIUS, and stands apart. Alex. O now the danger's past; your general comes, He joins not in your joys, nor minds your triumphs: But with contracted brows, looks frowning on, As envying your success. Ant. Now, on my soul he loves me, truly loves me; He never flatter'd me in any vice. But awes me with his virtue; even this mi ute Methinks he has a right of chiding me. Ant. We can conquer, You see, without your aid. We have dislodged their troops, Ant. 'Tis he himself, himself; by holy friend- Dol. I must be silent, for my soul is busy Ant. Thou hast what's left of me; Thou hast beheld me other than I am- me? With eastern monarchs, who forgot the sun Dol. Slaves to your fortune. Ant. Fortune is Cæsar's now; and what am I? Vent. What have you made yourself; I will not flatter. Ant. Is this friendly done? Dol. Yes, when his end is so, I must join Indeed I must, and yet you must not chide : Ant. Take heed, young man, Five thousand Romans, with their faces up- How thou upbraid'st my love? the queen has Ant. O think not on't, Ventidius ! In all his army, who has power to move him; Why dost thou drive me from myself, to search Yet I had one, the bravest youth of Rome, men. Vent. Him would I see! that man of all the world! Just such a one we want. Ant. He loved me too. I was his soul; he lived not but in me; Since he's no longer mine. He took unkindly Vent. Would you believe he loved you? A messenger from Cæsar's camp, with letters. Vent. I'll bring him instantly. eyes [ber And thou too hast a soul! Canst thou rememWhen, swell'd with hatred, thou beheld'st her first, As accessary to thy brother's death? Dol. Spare my remembrance! 'twas a guilty day. And still the blush hangs here. Ant. To clear herself, Ant. Oh, you must! She lay, and lean'd her cheek upon her hand, Stood fanning with their painted wings, the That play'd about her face: but if she smiled, The hearing gave new pleasure to the sight, For she so charm'd all hearts, that gazing Stood panting on the shore, and wanted breath Then, Dolabella, where was then thy soul? [Exit VENTIDIUS, and re-enters immedi- And whisper in my ear, oh, tell her not That I accused her of my brother's death! ately with DOLABELLA. Ant. O ye gods! Have I then lived to be excused to Cæsar ! Ant. Well, he's but my equal: While I wear this, he never shall be more. Methinks thou shouldst not bring them else; yet he Is full of deep dissembling; knows no honour Divided from his interest. He's fit, indeed, to buy, not conquer kingdoms. Vent. Then, granting this, What power was theirs who wrought so hard a temper To honourable terms? Ant. It was my Dolabella, or some god. Dol. Not 1; nor yet Meceanas, nor Agrippa; They were your enemies; and I a friend Too weak alone; yet 'twas a Roman deed. Ant. 'Twas like a Roman done; show me that man Who has preserved my life, my love, my honLet me but see his face. Vent. That task is mine. [our; Ant. When I forget it, Be thou unkind, and that's my greatest curse. My queen shall thank him too. Dol. I fear she will not. Ant. But she shall do't. The queen, my Dolabella! Hast thou not still some grudgings of thy fever? Dol. I would not see her lost. Ant. When I forsake her, Leave me, my better stars; for she has truth Beyond her beauty. Cæsar tempted her, At no less price than kingdoms, to betray me; But she resisted all; and yet thou chid'st me For loving her too well. Could I do so? Dol. Yes; there's my reason. Had I been nothing more than Cæsar's sister, Know, I had still remain'd in Cæsar's camp; But your Octavia, your much injured wife, The banish'd from your bed, driven from your house; In spite of Cæsar's sister, still is yours. And prompts me not to seek what you should have it. Vent. Do take it; thou deserv'st it. Oct. Begg'd it, my lord? Ant. Yes, begg'd it, my ambassadress; Poorly and basely begg'd it of your brother. Oct. Poorly and basely, I could never beg; Nor could my brother grant. Ant. Shall I, who, to my kneeling slave, could say,. Rise up and be a king; shall I fall down Forgive, would choke me up, Dol. You shall not need it. Ant. I will not need it. Come, you've all our, Because 'tis mine. It never shall be said For, though my brother bargains for your love, To rule the east: I may be dropp'd at |