By your confession what more pass'd betwixt 'em, How near the bus'ness draws to your employment, And when the happy hour.

Ant. Speak truth, Alexas; whether it offend

Or please Ventidius, care not.

Justify

Thy injur'd queen from malice: dare his worst. "Oct. [Aside.] See how he gives him courage, how he fears

"To find her false, and shuts his eyes to truth, "Willing to be misled !"

Alex. As far as love may plead for woman's frailty, Urg'd by desert and greatness of the lover, So far (divine Octavia) may my queen Stand ev'n excus'd to you for loving him Who is your lord; so far from brave Ventidius. May her past actions hope a fair report.

Ant. 'Tis well and truly spoken: Mark, Ventidius. Alex. To you, most noble emperor, her strong pas

sion

Stands not excus'd, but wholly justify'd.

Her beauty's charms alone, without her crown,
From Ind and Meroe drew the distant vows
Of sighing kings, and at her feet were laid
The sceptres of the earth, expos'd on heaps,
To choose where she would reign;

She thought a Roman only could deserve her,
And, of all Romans, only Antony;

And to be less than wife to you disdain'd
Their lawful passion.

Ant. 'Tis but truth.

Alex. And yet tho' love and your unmatch'd desert
Have drawn her from the due regard of honour,
At last Heav'n open'd her unwilling eyes

To see the wrongs she offer'd fair Octavia,
Whose holy bed she lawlessly usurp'd ;
The sad effects of this improsp'rous war
Confirm'd those pious thoughts.

Vent. [Aside.] Oh, wheel you there?
Observe him now; the man begins to mend,
And talk substantial reason. Fear not, eunuch,
The emperor has giv'n thee leave to speak.
Alex. Else had I never dar'd t' offend his ears
With what the last necessity has urg'd

On

my forsaken mistress; yet I must not Presume to say her heart is wholly alter'd.

Ant. No, dare not for thy life, I charge thee, dare

not

Pronounce that fatal word.

Oa. Must I bear this? Good Heav'n afford me

patience?

[Aside. Vent. Oh, sweet eunuch! my dear half man! pro

ceed.

Alex. Yet Dolabella

Has lov'd her long; he, next my godlike lord, Deserves her best; and should she meet his passion, Rejected as she is by him she lov'd.

Ant. Hence from my sight, for I can bear no more! Let furies drag thee quick to helli each torturing hand

Do thou employ till Cleopatra comes,

Then join thou too, and help to torture her.

[Exit Alexas, thrust out by Antony.

O&. 'Tis not well!

Indeed, my lord, 'tis much unkind to me,

To shew this passion, this extreme concernment,
For an abandon'd, faithless prostitute.

Ant. Octavia, leave me! I am much disorder'd! Leave me, I say!

Oct. My lord!

Ant. I bid you leave me.

"Vent. Obey him, madam; best withdraw awhile, "And see how this will work.

"Oct. Wherein have I offended you, my lord, "That I am bid to leave you? am I false "Or infamous? am I a Cleopatra ?

"Were I she,

"Base as she is, you would not bid me leave you,
"But hang upon my neck, take slight excuses,
"And fawn upon my falsehood.

"Ant. 'Tis too much,

"Too much, Octavia! I am prest with sorrows
"Too heavy to be borne, and you add more!
"I would retire, and recollect what's left
"Of man within to aid me.

"Oct. You would mourn

"In private for your love who has betray'd you.
"Yon did but half return to me; your kindness
"Linger'd behind with her. I hear, my lord,
"You make conditions for her,

"And would include her treaty: wondrous proofs

"Of love to me!

"Ant. Are you my friend, Ventidius ?

“Or are you turn'd a Dolabella too, "And let this fury loose?

"Vent. Oh, be advis'd,

"Sweet madam! and retire."

Oct. Yes, I will go, but never to return;
"You shall no more be haunted with this fury."
My lord, my lord! love will not always last
When urg'd with long unkindness and disdain.
Take her again whom you prefer to me;
She stays but to be call'd. Poor cozen'd man!
Let a feign'd parting give her back your heart,
Which a feign'd love first got; for injur'd me,
Tho' my just sense of wrongs forbid my stay,
My duty shall be yours.

To the dear pledges of our former love

My tenderness and care shall be transferr'd,

And they shall cheer by turns my widow'd nights. So take my last farewell! for I despair

To have you whole, and scorn to take you half. [Exit.

Vent. I combat Heav'n, which blasts my best de

signs!

My last attempt must be to win her back;

But oh! I fear in vain.

[Exit.

Ant. Why was I fram'd with this plain honest heart Which knows not to disguise its griefs and weakness, But bears its workings outward to the world?

hould have kept the mighty anguish in,

And forc'd a smile at Cleopatra's falsehood;
Octavia had believ'd it, and had staid.
But I am made a shallow-forded stream,
Seen to the bottom, all my clearness scorn'd,
And all my faults expos'd.-See, where he comes

Enter DOLABELLA.

Who has profan'd the sacred name of friend,
And worn it into vileness!

With how secure a brow and specious form
He gilds the secret villain! Sure that face
Was meant for honesty, but Heav'n mismatch'd it,
And furnish'd treason out with nature's pomp

To make its work more easy.

"Dol. O my friend !"

Ant. Well, Dolabella, you perform'd my message? Dol. I did unwillingly.

Ant. Unwillingly!

Was it so hard for you to bear our parting?

You should have wish'd it.

Dol. Why?

Ant. Because you love me;

And she receiv'd my message with as true,

With as unfeign'd a sorrow as you brought it?
Dol. She loves you ev'n to madness.

Ant. Oh! I know it.

You, Dolabella, do not better know

How much she loves me. And should I
Forsake this beauty, this all-perfect creature?
Dol. I could not were she mine.