_Cleo._ Could you not beg An hour's admittance to his private ear? Like one, who wanders through long barren wilds; And yet foreknows no hospitable inn Is near to succour hunger, Eats his fill, before his painful march: So would I feed a while my famished eyes Before we part; for I have far to go, If death be far, and never must return.
_Vent._ From hence you may discover--Oh, sweet, sweet! Would you indeed? the pretty hand in earnest?
_Dola._ I will, for this reward. [_Takes her hand._ Draw it not back, 'Tis all I e'er will beg.
_Vent._ Seem not to have observed them, and go on.
_Vent._ No. I sought him; but I heard that he was private, None with him but Hipparchus, his freedman.
_Vent._ Giving him instructions, And letters to his brother Cæsar.
_Dola._ Well, He must be found. [_Exeunt_ DOLA. _and_ CLEO.
_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?
_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 Cæsar 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.
_Ant._ Octavia, I was looking you, my love: What, are your letters ready? I have given My last instructions.
_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.