_Vent._ She looked, methought, As she would say,--take your old man, Octavia; Thank you, I'm better here.-- Well, but what use Make we of this discovery? _Octav._ Let it die. _Vent._ I pity Dolabella; but she's dangerous: Her eyes have power beyond Thessalian charms, To draw the moon from heaven; for eloquence, The sea-green Syrens taught her voice their flattery; And, while she speaks, night steals upon the day, Unmarked of those that hear: Then she's so charming Age buds at sight of her, and swells to youth: The holy priests gaze on her when she smiles; And with heaved hands, forgetting gravity, They bless her wanton eyes: even I, who hate her, With a malignant joy behold such beauty; And, while I curse, desire it. Antony Must needs have some remains of passion still, Which may ferment into a worse relapse, If now not fully cured. I know, this minute, With Caesar he's endeavouring her peace. _Octav._ You have prevailed:--But for a farther purpose [_Walks off._ I'll prove how he will relish this discovery. What, make a strumpet's peace! it swells my heart: It must not, shall not be. _Vent._ His guards appear. Let me begin, and you shall second me. _Enter_ ANTONY. _Ant._ Octavia, I was looking you, my love: What, are your letters ready? I have given My last instructions. _Octav._ Mine, my lord, are written. _Ant._ Ventidius. [_Drawing him aside._ _Vent._ My lord? _Ant._ A word in private.-- When saw you Dolabella? _Vent._ Now, my lord, He parted hence; and Cleopatra with him. _Ant._ Speak softly.--'Twas by my command he went, To bear my last farewell. _Vent._ It looked indeed [_Aloud._ Like your farewell. _Ant._ More softly.--My farewell? What secret meaning have you in those words Of--my farewell? He did it by my order. _Vent._ Then he obeyed your order. I suppose [_Aloud._ You bid him do it with all gentleness, All kindness, and all--love. _Ant._ How she mourned, The poor forsaken creature! _Vent._ She took it as she ought; she bore your parting As she did Caesar's, as she would another's, Were a new love to come. _Ant._ Thou dost belie her; [_Aloud._ Most basely, and maliciously belie her. _Vent._ I thought not to displease you; I have done. _Octav._ You seem disturbed, my lord. [_Coming up._ _Ant._ A very trifle. Retire, my love. _Vent._ It was indeed a trifle. He sent-- _Ant._ No more. Look how thou disobeyest me; [_Angrily._ Thy life shall answer it. _Octav._ Then 'tis no trifle. _Vent._ [_To_ OCTAV.] 'Tis less; a very nothing: You too saw it, As well as I, and therefore 'tis no secret. _Ant._ She saw it! _Vent._ Yes: She saw young Dolabella-- _Ant._ Young Dolabella!