_Oth._ Rather would I die, Ay, rather far that thou should’st die than do This baseness willingly. _Pop._ Nay, speak not so. I shall do nothing base. _Oth._ Thou must succeed. Only before thou goest I’ll kiss thee once. [_Kisses Pop._ Otho’s last kiss. Farewell. 1310 _Pop._ Good night. I go. Lesbia, my cloak! I shall have news ere morn. [_Exit._ _Oth._ Gone! With a grace As firm, as pleasant, gay and self-possessed As that with which she hath come a thousand times To meet me, kiss me, and call me hers, she goes To change her husband .. gone! and not a sign To show that leaving me was losing aught! Fool that I was! To the soul I knew her vain, Self-seeking, light, petulant at the breath Of contradiction, and yet I trusted. What, 1320 Asks she, is love. Ay, what? I love my dog; He is devoted beyond reason, pitiful In his dependence; he will scarce reproach me With some short wondering sorrow, if I strike him— I love my horse; he bears me willingly, Answering spiritedly; with all his strength Generous and gentle. But woman, if man love her,— Seeing she is less devoted than the hound, Less noble than the horse,—’tis that we deem, That being human she can gauge the worth 1330 Of our intensity, and in kind somewhat Repay it: ’tis a delusion; spite of shew, She hath not in her heart that which her eyes Fondly declare. There is no passion possible Which beauty can interpret or soft speech Express, which was not mine; ay, by that title O’er and o’er; yet I think no dog in Rome Would leave the meanest slave that fed him once, As hath this woman left the man that loved her. [_Knocking._ _Enter Lucan and Petronius._ _LUCAN._ Ha! here he is. We have come to fetch you, Otho. _Oth._ I do not go to-night. 1341 _PETRONIUS._ Not go! What is’t, man?—ill? _Oth._ My wife has gone, therefore I do not go:— You see the matter, maybe have foreseen it; I was too blind. Spare me your condolence; I do not wish even sympathy. You know I loved her, but ’tis over. Let me give you Such knowledge as I wish my friends to have, Else might they mistake somewhat. See! she is gone To-night against my wish: ’tis nothing more: 1350 But this will lead to much. I let my house; Sell you my wine, Petronius, if you wish it, And take—I shall not want for interest— The Lusitanian proconsulate. _Luc._ You go from Rome? _Oth._ I do. _Petr._ Break not with Cæsar. _Oth._ I’ll take employment.