See Europe, Afric, Asia, put in balance, woman! I think the gods are Antonies, and give, Ant. You grow presumptuous. Vent. I take the privilege of plain love to speak. Ant. Thou dar'st not trust my passion, but thou may'st: Thou only lov'st, the rest have flattered me. May I believe you love me? Speak again. Ant. Plain love! plain arrogance, plain inso-Thy praises were unjust: but I'll deserve them, lence! Thy men are cowards, thou an envious traitor, Vent. You may kill me: You have done more already, called me traitor. Vent. For shewing you yourself, Which none else durst have done? But had I been To fill Octavia's bands? I could have been Ant. Forgive me, soldier; I have been too passionate. Vent. You thought me false, Thought my old age betrayed you. Kill me, sir, ness Has left your sword no work. Ant. I did not think so; I said it in my rage: prithee forgive me. Vent. No prince, but you, At their own skill, and cried, ' a lucky hit Ant. But Cleopatra Go on, for I can bear it now. And yet mend all. Do with me what thou wilt: Vent. And will you leave this Ant. Prithee do not curse her, And I will leave her; though, heaven knows, I Beyond life, conquest, empire, all but honour: Vent. That's my royal master! Ant. I warrant thee, old soldier; word arms, And mans each part about me. Once again Vent. Ye gods, ye gods, Ant. Come on, my soldier; Our hearts and arms are still the same: I long SCENE I.-A grand Saloon. Enter CLEOPATRA, IRAS, and ALEXAS. ACT II. Cleo. What shall I do, or whither shall I turn! Ventidius has o'ercome, and he will go. Alex. He goes to fight for you. Char. I found him, madam—- If thou bring'st comfort, haste and give it me, Iras. I know he loves you. Cleo. Had he been kind, her eyes had told me so, Cleo. Then he would see me ere he went to Before her tongue could speak it; now she stufight. Flatter me not; if once he goes, he's lost, And all my hopes destroyed. Aler. Does this weak passion Become a mighty queen? Cico. I am no queen : Is this to be a queen, to be besieged Each hour the victor's chain? These ills are small, For Antony is lost, and I can mourn For nothing else but him. Now come, Octavius; I have no more to lose; prepare thy bonds; I am fit to be a captive: Antony Has taught my mind the fortune of a slave. Cico, I have none, And none would have: my love's a noble mad Fits vulgar love, and for a vulgar man; Sure he would sigh; for he is noble-natured, Iras. Let it be past with you; Forget him, madam. Cleo. Never, never, Iras: He once was mine, and once, though now 'tis dies To soften what he said: but give me death Char. I found him then, Encompassed round, I think, with iron statues, So mute, so motionless, his soldiers stood, While awfully he cast his eyes about, And every leader's hopes and fears surveyed. Methought he looked resolved, and yet not pleased; When he beheld me struggling in the crowd, Alex. There's comfort yet. Char. Ventidius fixed his eyes upon my pas sage Severely, as he meant to frown me back, But shunned my eyes, and guiltily looked down. Cleo. Did he then weep, and was I worth a tear? If what thou hast to say be not as pleasing, Cleo. Thou wouldst say he would not see me! Char. And therefore begged you not to use a power, Which he could ill resist; yet he should ever Cleo. Is that a word For Antony to use to Cleopatra? Oh, that faint word respect! how I disdain it! He should have kept that word for cold Octavia Alex. You misjudge; You see through love, and that deludes your sight, As what is straight seems crooked through the water; But I, who bear my reason undisturbed, Cleo. Could I believe thee Alex. By every circumstance I know he loves. True, he's hard prest by interest and honour; Yet he but doubts and parleys, and casts out Many a long look for succour. Cleo. He sends word He fears to see my face. Ater. And would you more? He shows his weakness, who declines the combat ; Cleo. You shall rule me, But all, I fear, in vain. [Exit with CHAR. and IRAS. Aler. I fear so too, Though I concealed my thoughts to make her bold; But 'tis our utmost means, and fate befriend it! [Withdraws. A march till all are on, Enter Lictors with fasces, one bearing the Eagle; then enter ANTONY and VENTIDIUS, followed by other Commanders. Ant. Octavius is the minion of blind chance, But holds from virtue nothing. Vent. Has he courage? Ant. But just enough to season him from coward. 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 think'st 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. He first would chuse an ague or a fever. Ant. No, it must be an ague, not a fever; He has not warmth enough to die by that, Vent, Or old age and a bed, Alex. Great emperor, In mighty arms renowned above mankind, Vent. Smooth sycophant! Alex. A thousand wishes, and ten thousand prayers, Millions of blessings, wait you to the wars; As many embraces to your arms, 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, Tell him this god is not invulnerable, With all the wealth of Egypt. Vent. Tell her I'll none on't ; Ant. You might have spared that word. Ant. But have I no remembrance? Alex. Yes, a dear one; Your slave the queen Ant. My mistress. 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, And more than aconite has dipt the silk. Ant. Nay, now you grow too cynical, Ventidius; A lady's favours may be worn with honour. Aler. None, none, my lord, Alex. In faith, my lord, we courtiers too are aukward In these affairs; so are all men indeed, Even I who am not one. But shall I speak? Ant. Yes, freely. Vent. Then I have washed an Ethiop. You are undone ! 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. And yet she shall not think me barbarous neither, Born in the depths of Afric: I'm a Roman, Bred to the rules of soft humanity. 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. you; Gods! I thank 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 ruin. 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, Took you into my bosom, stained by Cæsar, And not half mine: I went to Egypt with you, And hid me from the business of the world, Shut out inquiring nations from my sight, To give whole years to you. 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, As she indeed had reason; raised a war Vent. But yet You went not. Ant. While within your arms I lay, The world fell mouldering from my hands each hour, 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? Vent. Now lay a sigh i'th' way to stop his pas sage; Prepare a tear, and bid it for his legions: 'Tis like they shall be sold. Cleo. How shall I plead my cause, when you, my judge, 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; And, since my innocence will not offend, Vent. After this, I think she'll blush at nothing. Cleo. You seem grieved (And therein you are kind) that Cæsar first If I endured him after, 'twas because Vent. Oh, siren! siren! Yet grant that all the love she boasts were true, Cleo. The consequence indeed, Yes; but he'll say you left Octavia for me: Cleo. Ev'n there I dare his malice. True, counselled To fight at sea; but I betrayed you not: [Aside, I fled, but not to the enemy. "Iwas fear: |