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/41

Rh Sung round my head; and planted all my shield: I won the Trenches, while my formost Men Lag'd on the Plain below.

Ven.Ye Gods, ye Gods, For such another hour.

Ant.Come on, My Soldier! Our hearts and armes are still the same: I long Once more to meet our foes; that Thou and I, Like Time and Death, marching before our Troops, May taste fate to e'm; Mowe e'm out a passage, And, entring where the foremost Squadrons yield, Begin the noble Harvest of the Field.

Hat shall I do, or whither shall I turn? Ventidius has o'rcome, and he will go.

Alex.He goes to fight for you.

Cleo.Then he wou'd see me, ere he went to fight: Flatter me not: if once he goes, he's lost: And all my hopes destroy'd.

Alex.Does this weak passion Become a Mighty Queen?

Cleo.I am no Queen; Is this to be a Queen, to be besieg'd By yon insulting Roman; and to wait Each hour the Victor's Chain? These ills are small; For Antony is lost, and I can mourn For nothing else but him. Now come, Octavius, I have no more to lose; prepare thy Bands; I'm fit to be a Captive: Antony Has