Aler. Oh heavens! I dare not: I meet my certain death. Cleo. Slave, thou deservest it. Not that I fear my lord will I avoid him; Aler. Oh! pity me, and let me follow you! Cleo. To death, if thou stir hence. Speak, if thou canst, Now for thy life, which basely thou wouldst save, Which, like a snow-ball in my coward hand, These two long lovers, soul and body, dread And this court-devil, which I so oft have raised, [Exit. Ant. They're enough. We'll not divide our stars, but side by side Vent. Now you shall see I love you. Not a word Of chiding more. By my few hours of life, Ant. Who knows but we may pierce through all their troops, And reach my veterans yet? 'Tis worth the tempting To o'erleap this gulf of fate, And leave our wandering destinies behind. Vent. See, see that villain! See Cleopatra stamped upon that face, How he has set his countenance for deceit, Alex. Oh, spare me, spare me! [Drawing. Ant. Hold; he's not worth your killing. On thy life, (Which thou mayest keep, because I scorn to take it) No syllable to justify thy queen; Where she shall never be molested more, Ant Fled to her Dolabella! die! Are open to her falsehood. My whole life Alex. Think not so; Her fortunes have in all things mixed with yours: Vent. She sent it first, Aler. She snatched her poniard, And buried half within her. Vent. Heaven be praised! Ant. Why, let him enter: Vent. What lethargy has crept into your soul? Ant. I will, but not by fighting. Oh, Venti- What should I fight for now? my queen is dead: Let Cæsar take the world An empty circle, since the jewel's gone, seous, For all the bribes of life are gone away. Vent. Would you be taken? But as a Roman ought; dead, my Ventidius- Ant. Then art thou innocent, my poor dear Should have a lord, and know, whom to obey. love! And art thou dead? We two have kept its homage in suspense, Oh, those two words! their sound should be di- Till it was dinted inwards. Let him walk vided. Hadst thou been false and died, or hadst thou lived Alone upon it: I'm weary of my part. And hadst been true-But innocence and death! horrid As can express my guilt! I care not which I take: I'm only troubled Vent. Is it come to this? The gods have been 'Tis scarce worth giving. I could wish indeed We threw it from us with a better grace, We might at least thrust out our paws, and wound Ant. I have thought on it; Ventidius, you must live. Vent. I must not, sir. Ant. Wilt thou not live to speak some good of me? To stand by my fair fame, and guard the approaches From the ill tongues of men? Vent. Who shall guard mine Ant. Say, I command it. Vent. If we die well, our deaths will speak themselves, And need no living witness. Ant. Thou hast loved me, And fain I would reward thee. I must die; Vent. Thank your kindness! Vent. I do indeed; But think, 'tis the first time I e'er deceived you, My queen and thou have got the start of me, For all the learned are cowards by profession. My further thought; for death, for aught I know, Is but to think no more. Here's to be satisfied. [Falls on his sword. I have missed my heart-Oh, unperforming hand! Thou never couldst have erred in a worse time. If he should find me living, and suspect, [Rises upon his knees. Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMION, and IRAS. Or am I dead before I knew, and thou The first kind ghost, that meets me? Cleo. Help me seat him! Send quickly, send for help! [They place him in a chair. Ant. I am answered: Cleo. How is it with you? Removing in a hurry; all packed up Cleo. Too long, ye heavens! you have been Oh, now be kind, and give me back Ant. It will not be, my love! Cleo. "Tis now too late Doubt not, my life! I'll come, and quickly too! Cæsar shall triumph o'er no part of thee. Ant. But grieve not, while thou stayest, My last disastrous times! Think we have had a clear and glorious day, And heaven did kindly to delay the storm, Just till our close of evening. Ten years love, And not a moment lost, but all improved To the utmost joys! What ages have we lived! And now to die each other's! and so dying, While hand in hand we walk in groves below, Whole troops of lovers' ghosts shall flock about us, And all the train be ours. Cleo. Your words are like the notes of dying Cleo. Oh, tell me so again! And take ten thousand kisses for that word My lord! my lord! speak, if you yet have bimy being! Sign to me if you cannot speak! or cast One look! do any thing, that shows you live! Char. Remember, madam, He charged you not to grieve. I have not loved a Roman not to know What should become his wife-his wife, my These ensigns of your pomp and royalty? Charmion! Cleo. Let him be so To those, that want his mercy: My poor lord Char. Whatever you resolve, I'll follow, even to death. Iras. I only feared For you, but more should fear to live without you. Cleo. Why, now, 'tis as it should be. Quick, my friends, Dispatch! ere this the town's in Cæsar's hands: My lord looks down concerned, and fears my stay, Lest I should be surprised: Keep him not waiting for his love too long. With them the wreath of victory I made Iras. The aspicks, madam? [Ex. Char. and Iras. 'Tis sweet to die, when they would force life on me, To rush into the dark abode of death We are now alone, in secrecy and silence, These pale cold lips-Octavia does not see me ; Cleo. Dull, that thou art! why, 'tis to meet my love, As when I saw him first on Cydno's bank, Char. 'Tis done. Cleo. Now set me by my lord; I claim this place, For I must conquer Cæsar, too, like him, And win my share of the world. Hail, you dear relicks Of my immortal love! Oh, let no impious hand remove you hence, Iras. Underneath the fruit the aspick lies. [Putting aside the leaves. [Within. Ser. The queen, where is she? The town is yielded, Cæsar's at the gates. Cleo. He comes too late to invade the rights Cleo. Already, death, I feel thee in my I go with such a will to find my lord, A heavy numbness creeps through every limb, And lay me on his breast!-Cæsar, thy worst! Char. Yes, 'tis well done, and like a queen, Of her great race. I follow her. [Sinks down. Dies. She has done well: much better thus to die, Ser. See how the lovers lie in state together, And went to charm him in another world. 2 Priest. Behold, Serapion, what havoc death While all the storms of fate fly o'er your tomb: has made! Ser. "Twas what I feared. Charmion, is this well done? And fame to late posterity shall tell, |