_Alex._ 'Tis true, She has done well: Much better thus to die, Than live to make a holiday in Rome. _Serap._ See, how the lovers sit in state together, As they were giving laws to half mankind! The impression of a smile, left in her face, Shows she died pleased with him for whom she lived. And went to charm him in another Caesar's just entering: grief has now no leisure. Secure that villain, as our pledge of safety, To grace the imperial triumph.--Sleep, blest pair, Secure from human chance, long ages out, While all the storms of fate fly o'er your tomb; And fame to late posterity shall tell, No lovers lived so great, or died so well. [_Exeunt._ Footnotes: 1. There was anciently some foolish idea about a wren soaring on an eagle's back. Colley Cibber, as Dr Johnson observed, converted the wren into a linnet: Perched on the eagle's towering wing, The lowly linnet loves to sing. 2. Approach there--Ay, you kite!-- --Now, gods and devils! Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried ho! Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth And cry, your will.--Have you no ears? I am Antony yet.-- The same idea, which bursts from Shakespeare's Antony in a transport of passion, is used by Dryden's hero. The one is goaded by the painful feeling of lost power; to the other, absorbed in his sentimental distresses, it only occurs as a subject of melancholy, but not of agitating reflection. 3. Imitated, or rather copied, from Shakespeare. _Don John._ I came hither to tell you, and circumstances shortened (for she hath been too long a talking of) the lady is disloyal. _Claudia._ Who? Hero? _Don John._ Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero. EPILOGUE.