All For Love, John Dryden [best ereader for pc .TXT] 📗

farewell: O iron heart! Let all the gods look down, and judge betwixt us, If he did ever love!

ANTONY. No more: Alexas!

DOLABELLA. A perjured villain!

ANTONY. [to CLEOPATRA.] Your Alexas; yours.

CLEOPATRA. Oh, ‘twas his plot; his ruinous design, To engage you in my love by jealousy. Hear him; confront him with me; let him speak.

ANTONY. I have; I have.

CLEOPATRA. And if he clear me not—

ANTONY. Your creature! one, who hangs upon your smiles! Watches your eye, to say or to unsay, Whate’er you please! I am not to be moved.

CLEOPATRA. Then must we part? Farewell, my cruel lord! The appearance is against me; and I go, Unjustified, for ever from your sight. How I have loved, you know; how yet I love, My only comfort is, I know myself: I love you more, even now you are unkind, Then when you loved me most; so well, so truly I’ll never strive against it; but die pleased, To think you once were mine.

ANTONY. Good heaven, they weep at parting! Must I weep too? that calls them innocent. I must not weep; and yet I must, to think That I must not forgive.— Live, but live wretched; ‘tis but just you should, Who made me so: Live from each other’s sight: Let me not hear you meet. Set all the earth, And all the seas, betwixt your sundered loves: View nothing common but the sun and skies. Now, all take several ways; And each your own sad fate, with mine, deplore; That you were false, and I could trust no more. [Exeunt severally.]

 

Act V

Scene I

Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMION, and IRAS

CHARMION. Be juster, Heaven; such virtue punished thus, Will make us think that chance rules all above, And shuffles, with a random hand, the lots, Which man is forced to draw.

CLEOPATRA. I could tear out these eyes, that gained his heart, And had not power to keep it. O the curse Of doting on, even when I find it dotage! Bear witness, gods, you heard him bid me go; You, whom he mocked with imprecating vows Of promised faith!—I’ll die; I will not bear it. You may hold me— [She pulls out her dagger, and they hold her.] But I can keep my breath; I can die inward, And choke this love.

Enter ALEXAS

IRAS. Help, O Alexas, help! The queen grows desperate; her soul struggles in her With all the agonies of love and rage, And strives to force its passage.

CLEOPATRA. Let me go. Art thou there, traitor!—O, O for a little breath, to vent my rage, Give, give me way, and let me loose upon him.

ALEXAS. Yes, I deserve it, for my ill-timed truth. Was it for me to prop The ruins of a falling majesty? To place myself beneath the mighty flaw, Thus to be crushed, and pounded into atoms, By its o’erwhelming weight? ‘Tis too presuming For subjects to preserve that wilful power, Which courts its own destruction.

CLEOPATRA. I would reason More calmly with you. Did not you o’errule, And force my plain, direct, and open love, Into these crooked paths of jealousy? Now, what’s the event? Octavia is removed; But Cleopatra’s banished. Thou, thou villain, Hast pushed my boat to open sea; to prove, At my sad cost, if thou canst steer it back. It cannot be; I’m lost too far; I’m ruined: Hence, thou impostor, traitor, monster, devil!— I can no more: Thou, and my griefs, have sunk Me down so low, that I want voice to curse thee.

ALEXAS. Suppose some shipwrecked seaman near the shore, Dropping and faint, with climbing up the cliff, If, from above, some charitable hand Pull him to safety, hazarding himself, To draw the other’s weight; would he look back, And curse him for his pains? The case is yours; But one step more, and you have gained the height.

CLEOPATRA. Sunk, never more to rise.

ALEXAS. Octavia’s gone, and Dolabella banished. Believe me, madam, Antony is yours. His heart was never lost, but started off To jealousy, love’s last retreat and covert; Where it lies hid in shades, watchful in silence, And listening for the sound that calls it back. Some other, any man (‘tis so advanced), May perfect this unfinished work, which I (Unhappy only to myself) have left So easy to his hand.

CLEOPATRA. Look well thou do’t; else—

ALEXAS. Else, what your silence threatens.—Antony Is mounted up the Pharos; from whose turret, He stands surveying our Egyptian galleys, Engaged with Caesar’s fleet. Now death or conquest! If the first happen, fate acquits my promise; If we o’ercome, the conqueror is yours. [A distant shout within.]

CHARMION. Have comfort, madam: Did you mark that shout? [Second shout nearer.]

IRAS. Hark! they redouble it.

ALEXAS. ‘Tis from the port. The loudness shows it near: Good news, kind heavens!

CLEOPATRA. Osiris make it so!

Enter SERAPION

SERAPION. Where, where’s the queen?

ALEXAS. How frightfully the holy coward stares As if not yet recovered of the assault, When all his gods, and, what’s more dear to him, His offerings, were at stake.

SERAPION. O horror, horror! Egypt has been; our latest hour has come: The queen of nations, from her ancient seat, Is sunk for ever in the dark abyss: Time has unrolled her glories to the last, And now closed up the volume.

CLEOPATRA. Be more plain: Say, whence thou comest; though fate is in thy face, Which from the haggard eyes looks wildly out, And threatens ere thou speakest.

SERAPION. I came from Pharos; >From viewing (spare me, and imagine it) Our land’s last hope, your navy—

CLEOPATRA. Vanquished?

SERAPION. No: They fought not.

CLEOPATRA. Then they fled.

SERAPION. Nor that. I saw, With Antony, your well-appointed fleet Row out; and thrice he waved his hand on high, And thrice with cheerful cries they shouted back: ‘Twas then false Fortune, like a fawning strumpet, About to leave the bankrupt prodigal, With a dissembled smile would kiss at parting, And flatter to the last; the well-timed oars, Now dipt from every bank, now smoothly run To meet the foe; and soon indeed they met, But not as foes. In few, we saw their caps On either side thrown up; the Egyptian galleys, Received like friends, passed through, and fell behind The Roman rear: And now, they all come forward, And ride within the port.

CLEOPATRA. Enough, Serapion: I’ve heard my doom.—This needed not, you gods: When I lost Antony, your work was done; ‘Tis but superfluous malice.—Where’s my lord? How bears he this last blow?

SERAPION. His fury cannot be expressed by words: Thrice he attempted headlong to have fallen Full on his foes, and aimed at Caesar’s galley: Withheld, he raves on you; cries,—He’s betrayed. Should he now find you—

ALEXAS. Shun him; seek your safety, Till you can clear your innocence.

CLEOPATRA. I’ll stay.

ALEXAS. You must not; haste you to your monument, While I make speed to Caesar.

CLEOPATRA. Caesar! No, I have no business with him.

ALEXAS. I can work him To spare your life, and let this madman perish.

CLEOPATRA. Base fawning wretch! wouldst thou betray him too? Hence from my sight! I will not hear a traitor; ‘Twas thy design brought all this ruin on us.— Serapion, thou art honest; counsel me: But haste, each moment’s precious.

SERAPION. Retire; you must not yet see Antony. He who began this mischief, ‘Tis just he tempt the danger; let him clear you: And, since he offered you his servile tongue, To gain a poor precarious life from Caesar, Let him expose that fawning eloquence, And speak to Antony.

ALEXAS. O heavens! I dare not; I meet my certain death.

CLEOPATRA. Slave, thou deservest it.— Not that I fear my lord, will I avoid him; I know him noble: when he banished me, And thought me false, he scorned to take my life; But I’ll be justified, and then die with him.

ALEXAS. O pity me, and let me follow you.

CLEOPATRA. To death, if thou stir hence. Speak, if thou canst, Now for thy life, which basely thou wouldst save; While mine I prize at—this! Come, good Serapion. [Exeunt CLEOPATRA, SERAPION, CHARMION, and IRAS.]

ALEXAS. O that I less could fear to lose this being, Which, like a snowball in my coward hand, The more ‘tis grasped, the faster melts away. Poor reason! what a wretched aid art thou! For still, in spite of thee, These two long lovers, soul and body, dread Their final separation. Let me think: What can I say, to save myself from death? No matter what becomes of Cleopatra.

ANTONY. Which way? where? [Within.]

VENTIDIUS. This leads to the monument. [Within.]

ALEXAS. Ah me! I hear him; yet I’m unprepared: My gift of lying’s gone; And this court-devil, which I so oft have raised, Forsakes me at my need. I dare not stay; Yet cannot far go hence. [Exit.]

Enter ANTONY and VENTIDIUS

ANTONY. O happy Caesar! thou hast men to lead: Think not ‘tis thou hast conquered Antony; But Rome has conquered Egypt. I’m betrayed.

VENTIDIUS. Curse on this treacherous train! Their soil and heaven infect them all with baseness: And their young souls come tainted to the world With the first breath they draw.

ANTONY. The original villain sure no god created; He was a bastard of the sun, by Nile, Aped into man; with all his mother’s mud Crusted about his soul.

VENTIDIUS. The nation is One universal traitor; and their queen The very spirit and extract of them all.

ANTONY. Is there yet left A possibility of aid from valour? Is there one god unsworn to my destruction? The least unmortgaged hope? for, if there be, Methinks I cannot fall beneath the fate Of such a boy as Caesar. The world’s one half is yet in Antony; And from each limb of it, that’s hewed away, The soul comes back to me.

VENTIDIUS. There yet remain Three legions in the town. The last assault Lopt off the rest; if death be your design,— As I must wish it now,—these are sufficient To make a heap about us of dead foes, An honest pile for burial.

ANTONY. They are enough. We’ll not divide our stars; but, side by side, Fight emulous, and with malicious eyes Survey each other’s acts: So every death Thou giv’st, I’ll take on me, as a just debt, And pay thee back a soul.

VENTIDIUS. Now you shall see I love you. Not a word Of chiding more. By my few hours of life, I am so pleased with this brave Roman fate, That I would not be Caesar, to outlive you. When we put off this flesh, and mount together, I shall be shown to all the ethereal crowd,— Lo, this is he who died with Antony!

ANTONY. Who knows, but we may pierce through all their troops, And reach my veterans yet? ‘tis worth the ‘tempting, To o’erleap this gulf of fate, And leave our wandering destinies behind.

Enter ALEXAS, trembling

VENTIDIUS. See, see, that villain! See Cleopatra stamped upon that face, With all her cunning, all her arts of falsehood! How she looks out through those dissembling eyes! How he sets his countenance for deceit, And promises a lie, before he speaks! Let me despatch him first. [Drawing.]

ALEXAS. O spare me, spare me!

ANTONY. Hold; he’s not worth your killing.—On thy life, Which thou may’st keep, because I scorn to take it, No syllable to justify thy queen; Save thy base tongue its office.

ALEXAS. Sir, she is gone. Where she shall never be molested more By love, or you.

ANTONY. Fled to her Dolabella! Die, traitor! I revoke my promise! die! [Going to kill him.]

ALEXAS. O hold! she is not fled.

ANTONY. She is: my eyes Are open to her falsehood; my whole life Has been a golden dream of love and friendship; But, now I wake, I’m like a merchant, roused