Ant: But just enough to season him coward. from Oh! 'tis the coldest youth upon a charge, The most deliberate fighter! if he ventures (As in Illyria once they said he did) To storm a town, 'tis when he cannot chuse, When all the world have fixed their eyes upon him; And then he lives on that for seven years after : Vent. I heard you challenged him. What thinkest thou was his answer? 'twas so tame Vent. Poor! Ant. He has more ways than one, But he would chuse them all before that one. Vent. You conquered for him; Millions of sighs and tears she sends you too, And would have sent As many embraces to your arms, As many dear parting kisses to your lips, 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, Her blooming beauty, and your growing kindness. Ant. [Aside.] Well, I must man it out-What would the queen? Alex. First to these noble warriors, who attend Your daring courage in the chase of fame, (Too daring and too dangerous for her quiet) She humbly recommends all she holds dear, All her own cares and fears, the care of you. Vent. Yes, witness Actium. 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 of it; I am not ashamed of honest poverty: Ant. You might have spared that word. Ant. But have I no remembrance? Alex. Then your mistress. Your mistress would, she says, have sent her soul, But that you had long since; she humbly begs This ruby bracelet, set with bleeding hearts, (The emblems of her own) may bind your arm. [Presenting a bracelet. Vent. Now, my best lord, in honour's name I ask you, For manhood's sake, and for your own dear safety, Touch not these poisoned gifts, Infected by the sender! touch them not! Myriads of bluest plagues lie underneath them, A lady's favours may be worn with honour. Twill pass the wakeful hours of winter nights Aler. None, none, my lord, But what's to her, that now 'tis past for ever. Ant. [Going to tie it.] We soldiers are so aukward-help me tie it. Alex. In faith, my lord, we courtiers too are In these affairs; so are all men indeed; Ant. Yes, freely. You're in the toils! you're taken! you're destroyed! Her eyes do Cæsar's work. Ant. You fear too soon: I am constant to myself: I know my strength; A guest, and kindly used, should bid farewell. How weak you are to her, how much an infant; Ant. See, she comes! Now you shall find your error. Gods! I thank you; I formed the danger greater than it was, Vent. Mark the end yet. Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMION, and IRAS. Ant. Well, madam, we are met. Then we must part! Ant. We must. Cleo. Who says we must? Ant. Our own hard fates. Cleo. We make those fates ourselves. Ant. Yes, we have made them; we have loved each other, Into our mutual ruim. From you alone Cleo. Oh, heavens! I ruin you! Ant. You promised me your silence, and you break it, Ere I have scarce begun. Cleo. Well, I obey you. Ant. When I beheld you first, it was in Egypt, Ere Cæsar saw your eyes: you gave me love, And were too young to know it. That I settled Your father in his throne was for your sake; I left the acknowledgment for time to ripen. Cæsar stepped in, and, with a greedy hand, Plucked the green fruit, ere the first blush of red, Yet cleaving to the bough. He was my lord, And was beside too great for me to rival: But I deserved you first, though he enjoyed you. When after I beheld you in Cilicia, An enemy to Rome, I pardoned you. Cleo. I cleared myself Ant. Again you break your promise! I loved you still, and took your weak excuses, Vent. Yes, to your shame be it spoken! [Aside. 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. And left me scarce a grasp; I thank your love for't. Vent. Well pushed: that last was home. Ant. If I have urged a falsehood, yes; else not. You called; my love obeyed the fatal summons: Vent. What haste she made to hoist her purple And to appear magnificent in flight, Ant. All this you caused: And would you multiply more ruins on me? eyes To seize them too. If you have aught to answer, Now speak, you have free leave. Aler. She stands confounded: Despair is in her eyes. [Aside. Vent. Now lay a sigh in the way to stop his passage; Prepare a tear, and bid it for his legions: 'Tis like they shall be sold. Cleo. How shall I plead my cause, when you, Already have condemned me? Shall I bring That you would pry with narrow searching eyes For I end here. Though I deserve this usage, Ant. Oh, you wrong me, To think I sought this parting, or desired Cleo. Thus low I thank you, Vent. After this, I think she'll blush at nothing. Cleo. You seem grieved (And therein you are kind) that Cæsar first Vent. Oh, siren! siren! Yet grant that all the love she boasts were trae, Cleo. The consequence indeed, Yes; but he'll say you left Octavia for me‹ Cleo. Ev'n there I dare his malice. True, I counselled To fight at sea; but I betrayed you not: Who envy me your love. Ant. We are 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, go; If, as a lover, stay. If you must perish— 'Tis a hard word-but stay. Vent. See now the effects of her so boasted love! She strives to drag you down to ruin with her; But could she 'scape without you, oh, how soon Would she let go her hold, and haste to shore, And never look behind! Cleo. Then judge my love by this. [Giving Antony a writing. Could I have borne A life or death, a happiness or woe, Ant. By Hercules the writing of Octavius! I know it well: 'tis that proscribing hand, Young as it was, that led the way to mine, And left me but the second place in murderSee, see, Ventidius! here he offers Egypt, And joins all Syria to it as a present, Cleo. And yet you leave me! You leave me, Antony; and yet I love you! For I could part with life, with any thing, Ant. Next living with you 'Tis all, that heaven can give. Alex. He melts; we conquer. [Aside. Cleo. No, you shall go; your interest call you Yes, your dear interest pulls to strong for these SCENE I. Ant. What is it, Ventidius? it outweighs them all. Why, we have more than conquered Cæsar now; Would she let slip her hold, and make to shore, Down on thy knees, blasphemer as thou art, Ant. Go! whither? go from all that's excel- Faith, honour, virtue, all good things, forbid This rattle of a globe to play withal, Cleo. She's wholly yours. My heart's so fulf That I shall do some wild extravagance ACT III, Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMION, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a train of Egyptians, ANTONY and Romans; CLEOPATRA crowns ANTONY. Ant. I THOUGHT how those white arms would fold me in, And strain me close and melt me into love: Ant. My brighter Venus! Ant. Thou joinest us well, my love. So pleased with that sweet image I sprung for-In thy embraces I would be beheld wards, And added all my strength to every blow. Cleo. Come to me, come, my soldier, to my You have been too long away from my embraces; By heaven and earth at once, And make their envy what they meant their sport, Let those, who took us, blush; I would love on, There's no satiety of love in thee; And blossoms rise to fill its empty place, Enter VENTIDIUS, and stands apart. 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 flattered me in any vice, But awes me with his virtue: even this minute, Methinks, he has a right of chiding me. Lead to the temple; I'll avoid his presence; It checks too strong upon me. [Exeunt the rest. [As Antony is going, Ventidius pulls him by the robe. Vent. Emperor! Ant. 'Tis the old argument; I prithee spare Vent. Fain I would find some other. Ant. Thank thy love. Some four or five such victories as this Will save thy farther pains. Vent. Expect no more; Cæsar is on his guard. For foreign aids, to hunt my memory, Yet I have one, the bravest youth of Rome, Just such a one we want. Ant. He loved me too; I was his soul; he lived not but in me : Vent. He moves as I would wish him. [Aside. I need not tell his name: 'twas Dolabella. Ant. No matter where, Since he is no longer mine. He took unkindly, Because I feared he loved her. He confest Should not have loved the same. When he de her, Else he had staid; but he perceived you jealous, And would not grieve his friend. I know he loves you. Ant. I should have seen him, then, ere now. Vent. Perhaps He has thus long been labouring for your peace. Ant. Would he were here! Vent. Would you believe he loved you? I read your answer in your eyes, you would. A messenger from Cæsar's camp with letters. Vent. I'll bring him instantly. [Exit Ventidius, and re-enters immediately with Dolabella. |