closed up the volume.

_Cleo._ Be more plain:
Say, whence thou comest; though fate is in thy face,
Which from thy hagard eyes looks wildly out,
And threatens ere thou speakest.

_Serap._ I came from Pharos;
From viewing (spare me, and imagine it)
Our land's last hope, your navy--

_Cleo._ Vanquished?

_Serap._ No;
They fought not.

_Cleo._ Then they fled.

_Serap._ Nor that. I saw,
With Antony, your well-appointed fleet
Row out; and thrice he waved his hand on high,
And thrice with cheerful cries they shouted back:
'Twas then false Fortune, like a fawning strumpet,
About to leave the bankrupt prodigal,
With a dissembled smile would kiss at parting,
And flatter to the last; the well-timed oars
Now dipt from every bank, now smoothly run
To meet the foe; and soon indeed they met,
But not as foes. In few, we saw their caps
On either side thrown up; the Egyptian gallies,
Received like friends, past through, and fell behind
The Roman rear: And now, they all come forward,
And ride within the port,

_Cleo._ Enough, Serapion:
I've heard my doom.--This needed not, you gods:
When I lost Antony, your work was done;
'Tis but superfluous malice.--Where's my lord?
How bears he this last blow?

_Serap._ His fury cannot be expressed by words:
Thrice he attempted headlong to have fallen
Full on his foes, and aimed at Caesar's galley:
With-held, he raves on you; cries,--He's betrayed.
Should he now find you--

_Alex._ Shun him; seek your safety,
Till you can clear your innocence.

_Cleo._ I'll stay.

_Alex._ You must not; haste you to your monument,
While I make speed to Caesar.

_Cleo._ Caesar! No,
I have no business with him.

_Alex._ I can work him
To spare your life, and let this madman perish.

_Cleo._ Base fawning wretch! would'st thou betray him too?
Hence from my sight! I will not hear a traitor;
'Twas thy design brought all this ruin on us.--
Serapion, thou art honest; counsel me:
But haste, each moment's precious.

_Serap._ Retire; you must not yet see Antony.
He who began this mischief,
'Tis just he tempt the danger; let him clear you:
And, since he offered you his servile tongue,
To gain a poor precarious life from Caesar,
Let him expose that fawning eloquence,
And speak to Antony.

_Alex._ O heavens! I dare not;
I meet my certain death.

_Cleo._ Slave, thou deservest it,--
Not that I fear my lord, will I avoid him;
I know him noble: when he banished me,
And thought me false, he scor