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Beware of fuch another vile excufe.

Seb. O, patience, Heaven!

Seb. Thy infolence had cancell'd all thy fervice; | Now draw; I fhould be loath to think thoudar'st not: To violate my laws, even in my court, Sacred to peace, and safe from all affronts ; Even to my face, and done in my despite, Under the wing of awful majesty, To ftrike the man I lov'd!

Dor. Ev'n in the face of heaven, a place more| facred,

Would I have struck the man, who, prompt by pow'r,

Would feize my right, and rob me of my love:
But, for a blow provok'd by thy injustice,
The hafty product of a just despair,
When he refus'd to meet me in the field,
That thou shouldft make a coward's caufe thy own!
Seb. He durft: nay, more, defir'd and begg'd
with tears

To meet thy challenge fairly: 'twas thy fault
To make it public; but my duty then
To interpofe, on pain of my difpleasure,
Betwixt your fwords.

Dor. On pain of infamy
He fhould have difobey'd.

Seb. The indignity thou didft was meant to me:
Thy gloomy eyes were caft on me with fcorn,
As who fhould fay, the blow was there intended;
But that thou didst not dare to lift thy hands
Against anointed power: fo was I forc'd
To do a fovereign juftice to myself,
And fpurn thee from my prefence.
Dor. Thou haft dar'd

To tell me, what I durft not tell myself:
I durit not think that I was fpurn'd, and live;
And live to hear it boafted to my face;
All my long avarice of honour loft,

Heap'd up in youth, and hoarded up for age:
Has Honour's fountain then fuck'd back the ftream?
He has; and hooting boys may dryihod país,
And gather pebbles from the naked ford.
Give me my love, my honour; give them back:
Give me revenge while I have breath to afk it.
Seb. Now by this honour'd order which I wear,
More gladly would I give than thou dar'st ask it :
Nor fhall the facred character of king

Be urg'd to fhield ine from thy bold appeal.
If I have injur'd thee, that makes us equal:
The wrong, if done, debas'd me down to thee.
But thou haft charg'd me with ingratitude;
Haft thou not charg'd me? Speak.

Der. Thou know'ft I have:
If thou difown'ft that imputation, draw,
And prove my charge a lye.

Seb. No; to difprove that lye I must not draw:
Be confcious to thy worth, and tell thy foul
What thou haft done this day in my defence:
To fight thee after this, what were it elfe
Than owning that ingratitude thou urg'ft?
That ifthmus ftands between two rushing feas;
Which mounting view each other from afar,
And ftrive in vain to meet.

Dor. I'll cut that ifthmus:

Thou know'ft I meant not to preferve thy life,
But to reprieve it, for my own revenge.
I fav'd thee out of honourable malice:

Dor. Beware of patience too;
That's a fufpicious word: it had been proper,
Before thy foot had spurn'd me; now 'tis bafe:
Yet, to difarm thee of thy last defence,
I have thy oath for my fecurity:
The only boon I begg'd was this fair combat:
Fight or be perjur'd now; that's all thy choice.
Seb. Now can I thank thee as thou wouldft
be thank'd:
[Drawing.

Never was vow of honour better paid,
If my true fword but hold, than this fhall be.
The fprightly bridegroom on his wedding-night
More gladly enters not the lifts of love.
Why 'tis enjoyment to be summon'd thus.
Go; bear my meffage to Henriquez' ghoft,
And fay his mafter and his friend reveng'd him.
Dor. His ghoft! then is my hated rival dead?
Seb. The queftion is befide our prefent purpoke.
Thou feeft me ready; we delay too long.

Dor. A minute is not much in either's life, When there's but one betwixt us; throw it ia, And give it him of us who is to fall.

Seb. He's dead: make hafte, and thou may

yet o'ertake him.

Dor. When I was hafty, thou delay'ft me longer. I pr'ythee let me hedge one moment more Into thy promife: for thy life preferv'd, Be kind; and tell me how that rival died, Whofe death next thine I wish'd.

[know:

Seb. If it would pleafe thee, thou fhouldst never But thou, like jealoufy, enquir'ft a truth, Which found will torture thee: he died in fight; Fought next iny perfon, as in concert fought; Kept pace for pace, and blow for every blow; Save when he heav'd his fhield in my defence, And on his naked fide receiv'd my wound: Then, when he could no more, he fell at once, But roll'd his falling body crofs their way, And made a bulwark of it for his prince.

Dor. I never can forgive him fuch a death! Seb. I prophefied thy proud foul could not bear it.

Now judge thyfelf who beft deferv'd my love.
I knew you both; and (durft I say?) as Heaven
Foreknew among the fhining angel hoft
Who fhould ftand firm, who fall.

Dor. Had he been tempted so, so had he fall'n; And fo, had I been favour'd, had I ftood.

Seb. What had been, is unknown; what is, apConfess he justly was preferr'd to thee. [pears:

Dor. Had I been born with his indulgent ftars, My fortune had been his, and his been mine. O, worse than hell! what glory have I lost, And what has he acquir'd by fuch a death ! I fhould have fallen by Sebaftian's fide, My corpfe had been the bulwark of my king: His glorious end was a patch'd work of fate, Ill forted with a foft effeminate life: It fuited better with my life than his So to have died: mine had been of a piece, Spent in your fervice, dying at your feet.

Seb.

1

Seb. The more effeminate and soft his life, The more his fame, to ftruggle to the field, And meet his glorious fate: confefs, proud spirit, (For I will have it from thy very mouth) That better he deferv'd my love than thou.

Dor. O, whither wouldst thou drive me? I must grant,

Yes, I muft grant, but with a fwelling foul,
Henriquez had your love with more defert:
For you he fought and died; I fought against you;
Through all the mazes of the bloody field
Hunted your facred life; which that I mifs'd
Was the propitious error of my fate,
Not of my foul; my foul's a regicide.

Seb. Thou might'ft have given it a more gentle

name:

Thou mean'ft to kill a tyrant, not a king. Speak, didst thou not, Alonzo ?

Dor. Can I fpeak?

Alas, I cannot anfwer to Alonzo:
No, Dorax cannot answer to Alonzo:
Alonzo was too kind a name for me.
Then, when I fought and conquer'd with your arms,
In that bleft age I was the man you nam'd:
Till rage and pride debas'd me into Dorax
And loft, like Lucifer, my name above.
Seb. Yet twice this day I ow'd my life to Dorax.
Dor. I fav'd you but to kill you: there's my grief.
Seb. Nay, if thou canft be griev'd, thou canft

repent:

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Thou could not be a villain, tho' thou wouldst: Thou own'ft too much, in owning thou haft err'd; And I too little, who provok'd thy crime.

Dor. O, ftop this headlong torrent of your good-
It comes too faft upon a feeble foul, [nets;
Half-drown'd in tears before; fpare my confufion,
For pity fpare, and fay not, first you err'd.
For yet I have not dar'd, through guilt and fhame,
To throw myself beneath your royal feet.
Now fpurn this rebel, this proud renegade;
'Tis juft you should, nor will I more complain.
Seb. Indeed thou should not ask forgiveness
first,

But thou prevent'ft me ftill in all that's noble.
Yes, I will raife thee up with better news:
Thy Violante's heart was ever thine;
Compell'd to wed, because the was my ward,
Her foul was abfent when she gave her hand :
Nor could my thrcats, or his purfuing courtship,
Effect the confummation of his love:
So ftill indulging tears, the pines for thee,
A widow and a maid.

[blefs'd me!
Dor. Have I been curfing Heaven, while Heaven
I fhall run mad with ecftafy of joy :
What, in one moment to be reconcil'd
To Heaven, and to my king, and to my love!
But pity is my friend, and tops me short,
For my unhappy rival. Poor Henriquez !

Seb. Art thou fo generous too, to pity him? Nay, then I was unjust to love him better. Here let me ever hold thee in my arms; And all our quarrels be but fuch as thefe, Who fhall love beft, and clofet fhall embrace: Be what Henriquez was-be my Alonzo.

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Ant. THEY tell me 'tis my birth-day; and I' keep it

With double pomp of sadness. 'Tis what the day deferves which gave me breath. Why was I rais'd the meteor of the world, Hung in the skies, and blazing as I travell'd, Till all my fires were spent, and then caft downTo be trod out by Cæfar? [wards

Vent. [Afide] On my foul
'Tis mournful, wondrous mournful!
Ant. Count thy gains;

Now, Antony, wouldst thou be born for this?
Glutton of fortune, thy devouring youth
Has ftarv'd thy wanting age.

Vent. [Afide] How forrow fhakes him!
So now the tempeft tears him up by th' roots,
And on the ground extends the noble ruin.

Ant. [Having thrown himself down.]
Lie there, thou fhadow of an emperor;
The place thou preffeft on thy mother earth
Is all thy empire now: now it contains thee;
Some few days hence, and then 'twill be too large,
When thou'rt contracted in thy narrow urn,
Shrunk to a few cold afhes: then Octavia,
(For Cleopatra will not live to fee it)
Octavia then will have thee all her own,
And bear thee in her widow'd hand to Cæfar.
Cæfar will weep, the crocodile will weep,
To fee his rival of the univerfe

--

Lie ftill and peaceful there. I'll think no more on't.
Give me fome mufic; look that it be fad,
I'll foothe my melancholy, till I fwell
And burst myself with fighing-
'Tis fomewhat to my humour. Stay, I fancy
I'm now turn'd wild, a commoner of nature;
Of all forfaken, and forfaking all;
Live in a fhady foreft's fylvan fcene,
Stretch'd at my length heneath fome blafted oak,
I lean my head upon the molly bark,
And look juft of a piece, as I grew from it:
My uncomb'd locks, matted like miflctoe,
Hang o'er my hoary face; a murm'ring brook
Runs at my foot-

Vent. Methinks, I fancy
Myfelf there too.

Ant. The herd come jumping by me,

And fearlefs quench their thirft while I look on And take me for their fellow-citizen.

More

More of this image, more; it lulls my thoughts.
Vent. I muft difturb him; I can hold no longer.
[Stands before him.
Ant. [Staring up.] Art thou Ventidius ?
Vent. Are you Antony?

I'm liker what I was, than you to him

I left you laft.

Ant. I'm angry.

Vent. So am I.

Ant. I would be private: leave me.
Vent. Sir, I love you,

And therefore will not leave you.

Ant. Will not leave me ?

Where have you learnt that anfwer? Who am I? Vent. My emperor; the man I love next Heaven. If I faid more, I think 'twere scarce a fin: You're all that's good and godlike.

Ant. All that's wretched.

You will not leave me then?

Vent. 'Twas too prefuming

To fay I would not: but I dare not leave you;
And 'tis unkind in you to chide me hence
So fcon, when I fo far have come to fee you.

Ant. Now thou haft feen me, art thou fatisfied?
For, if a friend, thou haft beheld enough;
And, if a foe, too much.

Vent. Look, emperor, this is no common dew, I have not wept thefe forty years; but now My mother comes afresh into my eyes; I cannot help her foftnefs,

[he weeps! Ant. By Heaven he weeps, poor good old man! The big round drops courfe one another down The furrows of his checks. Stop 'em Ventidius, Or fhall I blush to death; they fet my fhame, That caus'd 'em, full before me.

Vent. I'll do my beft.

[friends;

Ant. Sure there's contagion in the tears of See, I have caught it too. Believe me, 'tis not For my own griefs, but thine-nay, fatherVent. Emperor!

Ant. Emperor! why that's the style of victory.
The conq'ring foldier, red with unfelt wounds,
Salutes his general so: but never more
Shall that found reach my ears.

Vent. I warrant you.
Ant. Actium, Actium! O-
Vent. It fits too near you.

Ant. Here, here it lies; a lump of lead by day; And in my fhort, distracted, nightly flumbers, The hag that rides my dreams.

Vent. Out with it; give it vent.
Ant. Urge not my fhame-

I loft a battle.

Vent. So has Julius done.

Ant. I'll help thee-I have been a man, Venti-
Vent. Yes and a brave one: but [dius.
Ant. I know thy meaning.

But I have loft my reafon, have difgrac'd
The name of foldier, with inglorious eafe.
In the full vintage of my flowing honours
Sate ftill, and faw it preft by other hands.
Fortune came fimiling to my youth, and woo'd it,
And purple greatnefs met my ripen'd years.
When fiift I came to empire, I was borne
On tides of people, crowding to my triumphs;
The wish of nations, and the willing world
Receiv'd me as its pledge of future peace.
I was fo great, fo happy, fo belov'd,"
Fate could not ruin me; till I took pains,
And work'd againft my fortune, chid her from me,
And turn'd her loofe: yet ftill the came again.
My careless days, and my luxurious nights,
At length have wearied her, and now she's gone;
Gone, gone, divorc'd for ever! Help me, foldier,
To curfe this madman, this induftrious fool,
Who labour'd to be wretched. Pr'ythee curfe me.
Vent. No.

Ant. Why?

Vent. You are too fenfible already

Of what you've done, too confcious of your failings;
And like a fcorpion, whipt by others first
To fury, fting yourself in mad revenge.

I would bring balm, and pour it in your wounds,
Cure your distemper'd mind, and heal your for-
Ant. I know thou wouldft.
[tunes.

Vent. I will.

Ant. Ha, ha, ha, ha!

Vent. You laugh.

Aut. I do, to fee officious love
Give cordials to the dead.

Vent. You would be loft then?
Ant. I am.

Vent. I fay you are not. Try your fortune.
Ant. I have to th' utmoft. Doft thou think me

defperate

Without juft caufe? No, when I found all loft
Beyond repair, I hid me from the world,
And learnt to fcorn it here; which now I do
So heartily, I think it is not worth
The coft of keeping.

Vent. Cæfar thinks not fo:

He'll thank you for the gift he could not take.
You would be kill'd like Tully, would you? Do
Hold out your throat to Cæfar, and die tamely.

Ant. No, I can kill myfelf; and fo refolve.
Vent. I can die with you too, when time fhall
But fortune calls upon us now to live, [ferve:

[thou think'ft;To fight, to conquer.

Ant. Thou favour'ft me, and fpeak'st not half For Julius fought it out, and loft it fairly: But Antony➖➖➖

Vent. Nay, ftop not. Ant. Antony

(Well, thou wilt have it)-like a coward fled, Fled while his foldiers fought; fied first, Ventidius. 'Thou long ft to curfe me, and I give thee leave. I know thou cam ft prepar'd to rail.

Vent. I did.

Ant. Sure thou dream'ft, Ventidius. [hours Vent. No, 'tis you dream; you fleep away your In defperate floth, mifcall'd philofophy. Up, up, for honour's fake; twelve legions wait you, And long to call you chief. By painful journeys I led 'em, patient both of meat and hunger, Down from the Parthian marches to the Nile. 'Twill do you good to fee their fun-burnt faces, Their fcarr'd cheeks, and chopt hands; there's virtue in 'em:

They'll

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And make you more a flave? to gain you kingdoms,
Which for a kifs, at your next midnight feaft,
You'll fell to her? Then the new names her
jewels,

And calls this diamond fuch or fuch a tax;
Each pendant in her car fhall be a province.

Ant. Ventidius, I allow your tongue free licence
On all my other faults; but, on your life,
No word of Cleopatra ; the deserves
More worlds than I can lofe.

Vent. Behold you pow'rs,

To whom you have entrusted human kind;
See Europe, Afric, Asia put in balance;
And all weigh'ddownbyone light worthlefs woman!
I think the gods are Antonies, and give,
Like prodigals, this nether world away
To none but wafteful hands.

Ant. You grow prefumptuous.

Vent. I take the privilege of plain love to speak. Ant. Plain love! plain arrogance, plain info

lence!

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What hinder'd me t'have led my conq'ring eagles
To fill Octavius' bands? I could have been

A traitor then, a glorious, happy traitor,
And not have been fo call'd.

Ant. Forgive me, foldier;
I've been too paflionate.

Vent. You thought me falfe;

Thought my old age betray'd you. Kill me, Sir; Pray kill me; yet you need not, your unkindness Has left your fword no work.

Ant. I did not think fo;

I faid it in my rage: pr'ythee forgive me. Why didft thou tempt my anger, by discovery Of what I would not hear?

Vent. No prince but you

Could merit that fincerity I us'd,

Nor durft another man have ventur'd it:
But you, cre love mified your wand'ring eyes,
Were fure the chief and beft of human race,
Fram'd in the very pride and boast of nature.
Ant. But Cleopatras

Go on; for I can bear it now.

Vent. No more.

[mavft:

Ant. Thou dar'ft not truft my paffion; but thou Thou only lov ft, the reft have flatter'd me. Vent. Heaven's blefling on your heart, for that kind word.

May I believe you love me? Speak again.

Ant. Indeed I do. Speak this, and this, and this. Thy praises were unjuft; but I'll deferve 'em, And yet mend all. Do with me what thou wilt; Lead me to victory, thou know'ft the way.

Vent. And, will you leave this

Ant. Pr'ythee do not curse her,

And I will leave her; tho' Heaven knows I love Beyond life, conqueft, empire, all but honour: But I will leave her.

Vent. That's my royal mafter.
And thall we fight?

Ant. I warrant thee, old foldier:
Thou shalt behold me once again in iron;
And, at the head of our old troops, that beat
The Parthians, cry aloud, Come, follow me!

Vent. O, now I hear my emperor! In that word
Octavius fell. Gods, let me fee that day;
And, if I have ten years behind, take all;
I'll thank you for the exchange.
Ant. O, Cleopatra !

Vent. Again!

Ant. I've done. In that laft figh she went; Cæfar fhall know what 'tis to force a lover From all he holds most dear.

Vent. Methinks you breathe
Another foul; your looks are more divine;
You fpeak a hero, and you move a god.

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Ant. O, thou haft fir'd me! my foul's up in arms, And mans each part about me. Once again That noble eagernefs of fight has feiz'd me; That eagerness, with which I darted upward To Cafius' camp. In vain the steepy hill Oppos'd my way; in vain a war of pears Sung round my head, and planted all my shield; I won the trenches, while my foremost men Lagg'd on the plain below.

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A what rafh thing art thou, who
fett' fo fmall

A value on thy life, thus to prefume
Against the fatal orders I have given,
Thus to entrench on Cæfar's folitude,
And urge me to thy ruin?

Mar. Mighty Cæfar,

I have tranfgrefs'd; and for my pardon bow
To thee, as to the gods, when I offend:
Nor can I doubt your mercy, when you know
The nature of my crime. I am commiflion'd
From all the earth to give thee thanks and praifes,
Thou darling of mankind! whofe conq'ring arms
Already drown the glory of great Julius;
Whofe deeper reach in laws and policy
Makes wife Auguftus envy thee in heaven!
What mean the Fates by fuch prodigious virtue?
When scarce the manly down yet fhades thy face,
With conquetts thus to over-run the world,
And make barbarians tremble. O ye gods!
Should Destiny now end thee in the bloom,
Methinks I fee thee mourn'd above the lofs
Of lov'd Germanicus; thy funerals,

Like his, are folemniz'd with tears and blood.
Theo. How Marcian!

Mar. Yes, the raging multitude,
Like torrents, fet no bound to their mad grief;
Shave their wives heads and tear off their own
hair:

With wild defpair they bring their infants out,
To brawl their parents forrow in the ftreets:
Trade is no more, all courts of justice ftopt;
With ftones they dash the windows of their tem-
ples,

Pull down their altars, break their household gods;
And still the univerfal groan is this-
"Conftantinople's loft, our empire's ruin'd;
Since he is gone, that father of his country,
Since he is dead, O life, where is thy pleasure?
O Rome, O conquer'd world, where is thy glory?"
Theo. I know thee well, thy cuftom and thy

manners.

Thou didst upbraid me: but no more of this,
Not for thy life-

Mar. What's life without my honour?
Could you transform yourself into a Gorgon,
Or make that beardlefs face like Jupiter's,
I would be heard in spite of all your thunder:
O pow'r of guilt! you fear to ftand the test
Which Virtue brings; like fores your vices
fhake

Before this Roman healer. But, by the gods,
Before I go, I'll rip the malady,
And let the venom flow before your eyes.
This is a debt to the great Theodofius,
The grandfather of your illuftrious blood:
And then farewel for ever.

Theo. Prefuming Marcian!

What canft thou urge againft my innocence ?
Thro' the whole courfe of all my harmless youth,
Ev'n to this hour, I cannot call to mind
One wicked act which I have done to thame me.

Mar. This may be true: yet if you give the fway To other hands, and your poor fubjects fuffer, Your negligence to them is as the cause.

O Theodofius, credit me, who know
The world, and hear how foldiers cenfure kings;
In after-times, if thus you should go on,
Your memory by warriors will be scorn'd,
As much as Nero or Caligula loath'd;
They will defpife your floth, and backward case,
More than they hate the others' cruelty.
And what a thing, ye gods, is fcorn, or pity!
Heap on me, Heaven, the hate of all mankind;
Load me with malice, envy, deteftation;
Let me be horrid to all apprehenfion,
And the world thun me, fo I 'fcape but scorn.
Theo. Pr'ythee no more.

Mar. Nay, when the legions make comparifors,
And fay, Thus cruel Nero once refolv'd
On Galba's infurrection, for revenge,
To give all France as plunder to the army;
To poifon the whole fenate at a feast;
To burn the city, turn the wild beafts out,
Bears, lions, tigers, on the multitude;
That fo obftructing those that quench'd the fire,
He might at once destroy rebellious Rome———

Theo. O cruelty! why tell'st thou me of this?! Am I of fuch a barb'rous bloody temper?

Ma. Yet fome will fay, This fhew'd he had a
fpirit,

However fierce, avenging, and pernicious,
That favour'd of a Roman: but for you,
What can your partial fycophants invent,
To make you room among the emperors?
Whofe utmoft is the finalleft part of Nero;.
A pretty player, one that can act a hero,
And never be one. O ye immortal gods,
Is this the old Cæfarian majefty?
Now, in the name of our great Romulus,
Why fing you not, and fiddle too, as he did?
Why have you not, like Nero, a Phonafcus ?
One to take care of your celeftial voice?
Lie on your back, my lord, and on your stomach
Lay a thin plate of lead, abstain from fruits;
And when the bufinefs of the ftage is done,
Retire with your loofe friends to coftly banquets,
While the lean army groans upon the ground.

Theo. Leave me, I say, lest I chastise thee;
Hence, be gone, I fay-

Mar. Not till you have heard me out.
Build too, like him, a palace lin'd with gold,
As long and large as that of th' Efquiline;
Inclofe a pool too in it, like the fea,
And at the empire's coft let navies meet;

Adorn

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