Page:All for love- or, The world well lost. A tragedy as it is acted at the Theatre-Royal; and written in imitation of Shakespeare's stile. By John Dryden, servant to His Majesty (IA allforloveorworl00indryd).pdf/31

Rh Into a scornful smile, and cries, Take all, The World's not worth my care.

Ven.Just, just his nature. Virtue's his path; but sometimes 'tis too narrow For his vast Soul; and then he starts out wide, And bounds into a Vice that bears him far From his first course, and plunges him in ills: But, when his danger makes him find his fault, Quick to observe, and full of sharp remorse, He censures eagerly his own misdeeds, Judging himself with malice to himself, And not forgiving what as Man he did, Because his other parts are more than Man. He must not thus be lost.

Alex.You have your full Instructions, now advance; Proclaim your Orders loudly.

Serap.Romans, Ǣgyptians, hear the Queen's Command. Thus Cleopatra bids, Let Labor cease, To Pomp and Triumphs give this happy day, That gave the World a Lord: 'tis Antony's. Live, Antony; and Cleopatra live. Be this the general voice sent up to Heav'n, And every publick place repeat this eccho.

''Ven. aside.''Fine Pageantry!

Serap.Set out before your doors The Images of all your sleeping Fathers, With Laurels crown'd; with Laurels wreath your posts, And strow with Flow'rs the Pavement; Let the Priests Do present Sacrifice; pour out the Wine, And call the Gods to joyn with you in gladness.

Ven.Curse on the tongue that bids this general joy. Can they be friends of Antony, who Revel When Antony's in danger? Hide, for shame, You Romans, your Great grandsires Images, For fear their Souls should animate their Marbles, To blush at their degenerate Progeny.

Alex.A Love which knows no bounds to Antony, Would mark the Day with honors; when all Heaven Labour'd for him, when each propitious Star Stood