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/54

28 Is that a hard request?

Ant.Next living with you, 'Tis all that Heav'n can give.

''Alex. aside.''He melts; We conquer.

Cleo.No: you shall go: your Int'rest calls you hence; Yes, your dear interest pulls too strong, for these Weak Armes to hold you here. Go; leave me, Soldier; (For you're no more a Lover:) leave me dying: Push me all pale and panting from your bosome, And, when your March begins, let one run after Breathless almost for Joy; and cry, she's dead: The Souldiers shout; you then perhaps may sigh, And muster all your Roman Gravity; Ventidius chides; and strait your Brow cleares up. As I had never been.

Ant.Gods, 'tis too much; too much for Man to bear!

Cleo.What is't for me then, A weak forsaken Woman? and a Lover?— Here let me breathe my last: envy me not This minute in your Armes: I'll die apace: As fast as ere I can; and end your trouble.

Ant.Dye! Rather let me perish: loos'nd Nature Leap from its hinges. Sink the props of Heav'n, And fall the Skyes to crush the neather World. My Eyes, my Soul; my all!

Ven.And what's this Toy In ballance with your fortune, Honor, Fame?

Ant.What is't, Ventidius? it out-weighs 'em all; Why, we have more than conquer'd Cæsar now: My Queen's not only Innocent, but Loves me. This, this is she who drags me down to ruin! But, could she scape without me, with what haste Would she let slip her hold, and make to shore, And never look behind! Down on thy knees, Blasphemer as thou art, And ask forgiveness of wrong'd Innocence.

Ven.I'll rather dye, than take it. Will you go? Ant.