_Serap._ If he be vanquished, Or make his peace, Egypt is doomed to be A Roman province; and our plenteous harvests Must then redeem the scarceness of their soil. While Antony stood firm, our Alexandria Rivalled proud Rome, (dominion's other seat) And Fortune striding, like a vast Colossus, Could fix an equal foot of empire here. _Alex._ Had I my wish, these tyrants of all nature, Who lord it o'er mankind, should perish,--perish, Each by the other's sword; but, since our will Is lamely followed by our power, we must Depend on one; with him to rise or fall. _Serap._ How stands the queen affected? _Alex._ O she dotes, She dotes, Serapion, on this vanquished man, And winds herself about his mighty ruins; Whom would she yet forsake, yet yield him up, This hunted prey, to his pursuer's hands, She might preserve us all: but 'tis in vain-- This changes my designs, this blasts my counsels, And makes me use all means to keep him here, Whom I could wish divided from her arms, Far as the earth's deep centre. Well, you know The state of things; no more of your ill omens And black prognostics; labour to confirm The people's hearts. _Enter_ VENTIDIUS, _talking aside with a Gentleman of_ ANTONY'S. _Serap._ These Romans will o'erhear us. But, who's that stranger? By his warlike port, His fierce demeanour, and erected look, He's of no vulgar note. _Alex._ O 'tis Ventidius, Our emperor's great lieutenant in the East, Who first showed Rome that Parthia could be conquered. When Antony returned from Syria last, He left this man to guard the Roman frontiers. _Serap._ You seem to know him well. _Alex._ Too well. I saw him in Cilicia first, When Cleopatra there met Antony: A mortal foe he was to us, and Egypt. But,--let me witness to the worth I hate,-- A braver Roman never drew a sword; Firm to his prince, but as a friend, not slave. He ne'er was of his pleasures; but presides O'er all his cooler hours, and morning counsels: In short, the plainness, fierceness, rugged virtue, Of an old true-stampt Roman lives in him. His coming bodes I know not what of ill To our affairs. Withdraw, to mark him better; And I'll acquaint you why I sought you here, And what's our present work. [_They withdraw to a corner of the stage; and_ VENTIDIUS, _with the other, comes forward to the front._ _Vent._ Not see him, say you? I say, I must, and will. _Gent._ He has commanded, On pain of death, none should approach his presence. _Vent._ I bring him news will raise his drooping spirits, Give him new life. _Gent._ He sees not Cleopatra. _Vent._ Would he had never seen her!