[_Here the Children go to him, &c._

_Vent._ Was ever sight so moving?--Emperor!

_Dola._ Friend!

_Octav._ Husband!

_Both Child._ Father!

_Ant._ I am vanquished: take me,
Octavia; take me, children; share me all. [_Embracing them._
I've been a thriftless debtor to your loves,
And run out much, in riot, from your stock;
But all shall be amended.

_Octav._ O blest hour!

_Dola._ O happy change!

_Vent._ My joy stops at my tongue;
But it has found two channels here for one,
And bubbles out above.

_Ant._ [_To_ OCTAV.]
This is thy triumph; lead me where thou wilt;
Even to thy brother's camp.

_Octav._ All there are yours.

_Enter_ ALEXAS _hastily._

_Alex._ The queen, my mistress, sir, and yours--

_Ant._ 'Tis past.--Octavia, you shall stay this night;
To-morrow, Caesar and we are one.
[_Ex. leading_ OCTAV. DOL. _and the Children follow._

_Vent._ There's news for you; run, my officious eunuch,
Be sure to be the first; haste forward:
Haste, my dear eunuch, haste. [_Exit._

_Alex._ This downright fighting fool, this thick-skulled hero,
This blunt unthinking instrument of death,
With plain dull virtue has out-gone my wit.
Pleasure forsook my earliest infancy;
The luxury of others robbed my cradle,
And ravished thence the promise of a man
Cast out from nature, disinherited
Of what her meanest children claim by kind,
Yet greatness kept me from contempt: that's gone:
Had Cleopatra followed my advice,
Then he had been betrayed, who now forsakes.
She dies for love; but she has known its joys:
Gods, is this just, that I, who know no joys,
Must die, because she loves?

_Enter_ CLEOPATRA, CHARMION, IRAS, _and Train._

Oh, madam, I have seen what blasts my eyes!
Octavia's here.

_Cleo._ Peace with that raven's note.
I know it too; and now am in
The pangs of death.

_Alex._ You are no more a queen;
Egypt is lost.

_Cleo._ What tell'st thou me of Egypt?
My life, my soul is lost! Octavia has him!--
O fatal name to Cleopatra's love!
My kisses, my embraces now are hers;
While I--But thou hast seen my rival; speak.
Does she deserve this blessing? Is she fair?
Bright as a goddess? and is all perfection
Confined to her? It is. Poor I was made
Of that coarse matter, which, when she was finished,
The gods threw by for rubbish.

_Alex._ She's indeed a very miracle.

_Cleo._ Death to my hopes, a miracle!

_Alex._ A miracl