_Vent._ 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. _Ant._ 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. _Vent._ 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 etherial crowd,-- Lo, this is he who died with Antony! _Ant._ Who knows, but we may pierce through all their troops, And reach my veterans yet? 'tis worth the tempting, To o'erleap this gulph of fate, And leave our wandering destinies behind. _Enter_ ALEXAS, _trembling._ _Vent._ See, see, that villain! See Cleopatra stampt 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 dispatch him first. [_Drawing._ _Alex._ O spare me, spare me! _Ant._ 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. _Alex._ Sir, she is gone, Where she shall never be molested more By love, or you. _Ant._ Fled to her Dolabella! Die, traitor! I revoke my promise; die! [_Going to kill him._ _Alex._ O hold! she is not fled. _Ant._ 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 From soft repose, to see his vessel sinking, And all his wealth cast over. Ungrateful woman! Who followed me, but as the swallow summer, Hatching her young ones in my kindly beams, Singing her flatteries to my morning wake: But, now my winter comes, she spreads her wings And seeks the spring of Caesar. _Alex._ Think not so: Her fortunes have, in all things, mixt with yours. Had she betrayed her naval force to Rome, How easily might she have gone to Caesar, Secure by such a bribe! _Vent._ She sent it first, To be more welcome after. _Ant._ 'Tis too plain; Else would she have appeared, to clear herself. _Alex._ Too fatally she has: she could not bear To be accused by you; but shut herself Within her monument; looked down and sighed; While, from her unchanged face, the silent tears Dropt, as they had not leave, but stole their parting. Some undistinguished words she inly murmured; At last, she rais'd her eyes; and, with such looks As dying Lucrece cast-- _Ant._ My heart forebodes-- _Vent._ All for the best:--Go on.