Vent. My lord? Ant. A word in private. When saw you Dolabella? Vent. Now, my lord. He parted hence, and Cleopatra with him. Vent. Your Cleopatra, Dolabella's Cleopatra, Every man's Cleopatra. Ant. 'Tis false. Vent. I do not lie, my lord. Ant. Speak softly; 'twas by my command he Is this so strange? should mistresses be left, Vent. [To Oct.] 'Tis less; a very nothing: you too saw it As well as I, and therefore 'tis no secret. Vent. Yes; she saw young Dolabella— Vent. Young? I think him young, And handsome too; and so do others think him. At last she took occasion to talk softly, And brought her cheek up close, and leaned on his, At which he whispered kisses back on hers; So playful with my friend? Vent. Even she, my lord. And not provide against a time of change? Ant. I'll think no more of it. I know 'tis false, and see the plot betwixt you. You need not have gone this way, Octavia; What harms it you, that Cleopatra's just? She's mine no more. I see and I forgive; Urge it no farther, love. Oct. Are you concerned, That she's found false? Ant. I should be, were it so; For, though 'tis past, I would not, that the world Should tax my former choice; that I loved one Of so light note; but I forgive you both. Vent. What has my age deserved, that you should think I would abuse your ears with perjury? Ant. Though heaven and earth Vent. I'll bring you, then, a witness From hell, to prove her so. Nay, go not back, [Seeing Alexas just entering, and starting back. For stay you must and shall. Alex. What means my lord? Vent. To make you do what most you hate, speak truth. You are of Cleopatra's private counsel, Vent. My most illustrious pandar! No fine set speech, no cadence, no turned periods, How near the business draws to your employment, Ant. Speak truth, Alexas; whether it offend Or please Ventidius, care not. Justify Thy injured 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, Alex. As far as love may plead for woman's frailty, Urged by desert and greatness of the lover, May her past actions hope a fair report. Have drawn her from the due regard of honour, Vent. [Aside.] Oh, wheel you there? Alex. Else had I never dared to offend his ears With what the last necessity has urged On my forsaken mistress; yet I must not Presume to say, her heart is wholly altered. Ant. No, dare not for thy life! I charge thee, dare not Pronounce that fatal word! Oct. Must I bear this? Good heaven! afford me patience! [Aside. Vent. Oh, sweet eunuch! my dear half man, proceed! Alex. Yet Dolabella Has loved her long; he, next my godlike lord, Deserves her best; and should she meet his passion, Rejected, as she is, by him she loved Ant. Hence from my sight, for I can bear no more! Let furies drag thee quick to hell! each torturing hand Do thou employ till Cleopatra comes, Indeed, my lord, 'tis much unkind to me, Ant. Octavia, leave me! I am much disordered! Ant, I bid you leave me. Too much, Octavia! I am prest with sorrows, Oct. You would mourn In private for your love, who has betrayed you. You did but half return to me; your kindness Lingered 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 turned a Dolabella too, And let this fury loose? Vent. Oh, be advised, Sweet madam! and retire. Oct. Yes, I will go, but never to return; To the dear pledges of our former love So take my last farewell! for I despair Vent. I combat heaven, which blasts my best designs! My last attempt must be to win her back; [Exit. Ant. Why was I framed with this plain honest heart, Which knows not to disguise its griefs and weak ness, But bears its workings outward to the world? comes, Enter DOLABELLA. Vent. Obey him, madam; best withdraw Who has profaned the sacred name of friend, awhile, And see how this will work. And worn it into vileness! With how secure a brow and specious form He gilds the secret villain! Sure that face Dol. O my friend! Lay lulled betwixt your bosoms, and there slept Secure of injured faith? Dol. If she has wronged you, Heaven, hell, and you, revenge it! Ant. If she has wronged me! Ant. Well, Dolabella, you performed my Thou wouldst evade thy part of guilt: but swear In punishing such crimes. The rolling stone This tender heart, which, with an infant fondness, Ant. Alexas is not so; he, he confest it; He, who next hell best knew it, he avowed it. Why do I seek a proof beyond yourself? [To Dol. You, whom I sent to bear my last farewell, Returned to plead her stay. Dol. What shall I answer? If to have loved be guilt, then I have sinned; Cleo. Ah, what will not a woman do, who That you but meant to raise my jealousy? Ant. Guilt witnesses for guilt! Hence love and friendship! You have no longer place in human breasts; X A foe, but not a mistress and a friend: Treason is there in its most horrid shape, Where trust is greatest; and the soul resigned Is stabbed by its own guards. I'll hear no more: Hence from my sight for ever! Cleo. How? for ever! I cannot go one moment from your sight, My joys, my only joys, are centred here : me, With strictest justice, for I beg no favour, Ant. I must not hear you; I have a fool within me takes your part, Cleo. For pity hear me ! Would you cast off a slave, who followed you, Who crouched beneath your spurn? He has no pity! See, if he gives one tear to my departure, One look, one kind farewell; oh, iron heart! Let all the gods look down and judge betwixt us, If he did ever love! Ant. No more. Alexas! Dol. A perjured villain! Ant. to Cleo. Your Alexas! yours! Cleo. Oh, 'twas his plot; his ruinous design To engage you in my love by jealousy. Hear him; confront him with me; let him speak. Ant. I have, I have. Cleo. And if he clear me not Ant. Your creature! one, who hangs upon The appearance is against me; and I go, I love you more, even now you are unkind, Ant. Good Heaven! they weep at parting. Live, but live wretched; 'tis but just you should, And each your own sad fate with mine deplore, That you were false, and I could trust no more. [Exeunt severally. ACT V. Enter ALEXAS. Iras. Help, oh, Alexas, help! The queen grows desperate, her soul struggles in her, With all the agonies of love and rage, Cleo. Let me go. Art thou there, traitor!-Oh, Oh for a little breath to vent my rage! To place myself beneath the mighty flaw, Cleo. I would reason More calmly with you. Did you not o'errule Dropping and faint with climbing up the cliff, To draw the other's weight, would he look back Cleo. Sunk, never more to rise. Aler. Octavia's gone, and Dolabella banished. Believe me, madam, Antony is yours: His heart was never lost, but started off To jealousy, love's last retreat, and covert, Where it lies hid in shades, watchful in silence, And listening for the sound, that calls it back. Some other, any man, 'tis so advanced, May perfect this unfinished work, which I (Unhappy only to myself) have left So easy to his hand. Cleo. Look well thou dost, else Alex. Else what your silence threatens-Antony Is mounted up the Pharos, from whose turret If the first happen, fate acquits my promise; Iras. Hark! they redouble it. With Antony, your well-appointed fleet The Roman rear; and now they all come forward, Cleo. Enough, Serapion; I have heard my doom. This needed not, you gods! When I lost Antony, your work was done. 'Tis but superfluous malice. Where's my lord? How bears he this last blow? Ser. His fury cannot be expressed by words: Thrice he attempted headlong to have fallen Full on his foes, and aimed at Cæsar's galley: Withheld, he raves on you, cries he's betrayed. Should he now find you Alex. Shun him, seek your safety, Till you can clear your innocence. Cleo. I'll stay. Aler. You must not; haste you to the monument, While I make speed to Cæsar. The loudness shows it near. Good news, kind I have no business with him, Heavens! Alex. I can work him To spare your life, and let this, madman perish. Cleo. Base fawning wretch! wouldst thou betray him too? Hence from my sight! I will not hear a traitor : Ser. Retire; you must not see Antony. you; |