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/39

Rh The burden of thy rank o'reflowing Gall. O that thou wert my equal; great in Arms. As the first Cæsar was, that I might kill thee Without a Stain to Honor!

Ven.You may kill me; You have done more already, call'd me Traitor.

Ant.Art thou not one?

Ven.For showing you your self, Which none else durst have done; but had I been That name, which I disdain to speak again, I needed not have sought your abject fortunes, Come to partake your fate, to dye with you. What hindred me t' have led my Conqu'ring Eagles To fill Octavius's Bands? I could have been A Traitor then, a glorious happy Traitor, And not have been so call'd.

Ant.Forgive me, Soldier: I've been too passionate.

Ven.You thought me false; Thought my old age betray'd you: kill me, Sir; Pray kill me; yet you need not, your unkindness Has left your Sword no work.

Ant.I did not think so; I said it in my rage: pr'ythee forgive me: Why did'st thou tempt my anger, by discovery Of what I would not hear?

Ven.No Prince but you, Could merit that sincerity I us'd, Nor durst another Man have ventur'd it; But you, ere Love misled your wandring eyes, Were sure the chief and best of Human Race, Fram'd in the very pride and boast of Nature, So perfect, that the gods who form'd you wonder'd At their own skill, and cry'd, A lucky hit Has mended our design. Their envy hindred, Else you had been immortal, and a pattern, When Heav'n would work for ostentation sake, To copy out again.

Ant.But Cleopatra Go