d she lawlessly usurped.
The sad effects of this improsperous war
Confirmed those pious thoughts.

_Vent._ [_Aside._] O, wheel you there?
Observe him now; the man begins to mend,
And talk substantial reason.--Fear not, eunuch;
The emperor has given thee leave to speak.

_Alex._ Else had I never dared to offend his ears
With what the last necessity has urged
On my forsaken mistress; yet I must not
Presume to say, her heart is wholly altered.

_Ant._ No, dare not for thy life, I charge thee dare not
Pronounce that fatal word!

_Octav._ Must I bear this? Good heaven, afford me patience. [_Aside._

_Vent._ On, sweet eunuch; my dear half man, proceed.

_Alex._ Yet Dolabella
Has loved her long; he, next my godlike lord,
Deserves her best; and should she meet his passion,
Rejected, as she is, by him she loved--

_Ant._ Hence from my sight! for I can bear no more:
Let furies drag thee quick to hell; let all
The longer damned have rest; each torturing hand
Do thou employ, till Cleopatra comes;
Then join thou too, and help to torture her!
[_Exit_ ALEXAS, _thrust out by_ ANTONY.

_Octav._ 'Tis not well,
Indeed, my lord, 'tis much unkind to me,
To show this passion, this extreme concernment,
For an abandoned, faithless prostitute.

_Ant._ Octavia, leave me; I am much disordered:
Leave me, I say.

_Octav._ My lord!

_Ant._ I bid you leave me.

_Vent._ Obey him, madam: best withdraw a while.
And see how this will work.

_Octav._ Wherein have I offended you, my lord,
That I am bid to leave you? Am I false,
Or infamous? Am I a Cleopatra?
Were I she,
Base as she is, you would not bid me leave you:
But hang upon my neck, take slight excuses,
And fawn upon my falsehood.

_Ant._ 'Tis too much,
Too much, Octavia; I am prest with sorrows
Too heavy to be borne; and you add more:
I would retire, and recollect what's left
Of man within, to aid me.

_Octav._ You would mourn,
In private, for your love, who has betrayed you.
You did but half return to me: your kindness
Lingered behind with her. I hear, my lord,
You make conditions for her,
And would include her treaty. Wonderous proofs
Of love to me!

_Ant._ Are you my friend, Ventidius?
Or are you turned a Dolabella too,
And let this Fury loose?

_Vent._ Oh, be advised,
Sweet madam, and retire.

_Octav._ Yes, I will go; but never to return.
You shall no more be haunted with this Fury.
My lord, my lord, love will not always