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/33

Rh Nor mix Effeminate Sounds with Roman Trumpets. You dare not fight for Antony; go Pray, And keep your Cowards-Holy-day in Temples.

2. Gent.The Emperor approaches, and commands, On pain of death that none presume to stay.

1. Gent.I dare not disobey him.

Vent.Well, I dare. But, I'll observe him first unseen, and find Which way his humour drives: the rest I'll venture.

Antony.They tell me 'tis my Birth-day, and I'll keep it With double pomp of sadness. 'Tis what the day deserves, which gave me breath. Why was I rais'd the Meteor of the World, Hung in the Skies, and blazing as I travel'd, Till all my fires were spent; and then cast downward To be trod out by Cæsar?

''Ven. aside.''On my Soul, 'Tis mournful, wondrous mournful!

Anto.Count thy gains. Now, Antony, Wouldst thou be born for this? Glutton of Fortune, thy devouring youth Has starv'd thy wanting Age.

Ven.How sorrow shakes him! So, now the Tempest tears him up by th' Roots, And on the ground extends the noble Ruin. Lye there, thou shadow of an Emperor; The place thou pressest on thy Mother Earth Is all thy Empire now: now it contains thee; Some few dayes hence, and then twill be too large, When thou'rt contracted in thy narrow Urn, Shrunk to a few cold Ashes; then Octavia, (For Cleopatra will not live to see it) Octavia then will have thee all her own, And bear thee in her Widow'd hand to Cææsar; Cææsar