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/37

Rh Ven.I will.

Ant.Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Ven.You laugh.

Ant.I do, to see officious love Give Cordials to the dead.

Ven.You would be lost then?

Ant.I am.

Ven.I say, you are not. Try your fortune.

Ant.I have to th'utmost. Dost thou think me desperate, Without just cause? No, when I found all lost Beyond repair, I hid me from the World, And learnt to scorn it here; which now I do So heartily, I think it is not worth The cost of keeping.

Ven.Cæsar thinks not so: He'l thank you for the gift he could not take. You would be kill'd, like Tully, would you? do, Hold out your Throat to Cæsar, and dye tamely.

Ant.No, I can kill my self; and so resolve.

Ven.I can dy with you too, when time shall serve; But Fortune calls upon us now to live, To fight, to Conquer.

Ant.Sure thou Dream'st, Ventidius.

Ven.No, 'tis you Dream; you sleep away your hours In desperate sloth, miscall'd Phylosophy. Up, up, for Honor's sake; twelve Legions wait you, And long to call you Chief: by painful journeys, I led 'em, patient, both of heat and hunger, Down from the Parthian Marches, to the Nile. 'Twill do you good to see their Sun-burnt faces, Their skar'd cheeks and chopt hands; there's virtue in 'em, They'l sell those mangled limbs at dearer rates Than yon trim Bands can buy.

Ant.Where left you them?

Ven.I said, in lower Syria.

Ant.Bring 'em hither; There may be life in these.

Ven.They will not come.

Ant.Why did'st thou mock my hopes with promis'd aids To