ned to take my life;
But I'll be justified, and then die with him.

_Alex._ O pity me, and let me follow you.

_Cleo._ To death, if thou stir hence. Speak, if thou canst,
Now for thy life, which basely thou wouldst save;
While mine I prize at this. Come, good Serapion.
[_Exeunt_ CLEO. SERAP. CHAR. _and_ IRAS.

_Alex._ O that I less could fear to lose this being,
Which, like a snow-ball in my coward hand,
The more 'tis grasped, the faster melts away.
Poor reason! what a wretched aid art thou!
For still, in spite of thee,
These two long lovers, soul and body, dread
Their final separation. Let me think:
What can I say, to save myself from death?
No matter what becomes of Cleopatra.

_Ant._ Which way? where? [_Within._

_Vent._ This leads to the monument. [_Within._

_Alex._ Ah me! I hear him; yet I'm unprepared:
My gift of lying's gone;
And this court-devil, which I so oft have raised,
Forsakes me at my need. I dare not stay;
Yet cannot far go hence. [_Exit._

_Enter_ ANTONY _and_ VENTIDIUS.

_Ant._ O happy Caesar! thou hast men to lead:
Think not 'tis thou hast conquered Antony;
But Rome has conquered Egypt. I'm betrayed.

_Vent._ Curse on this treacherous train!
Their soil and heaven infect them all with baseness:
And their young souls come tainted to the world
With the first breath they draw.

_Ant._ The original villain sure no God created;
He was a bastard of the sun, by Nile,
Aped into man; with all his mother's mud
Crusted about his soul.

_Vent._ The nation is
One universal traitor; and their queen
The very spirit and extract of them all.

_Ant._ Is there yet left
A possibility of aid from valour?
Is there one god unsworn to my destruction?
The least unmortgaged hope? for, if there be,
Methinks I cannot fall beneath the fate
Of such a boy as Caesar.
The world's one half is yet in Antony;
And from each limb of it, that's hewed away,
The soul comes back to me.

_Vent._ There yet remain
Three legions in the town. The last assault
Lopt off the rest: if death be your design,--
As I must wish it now,--these are sufficient
To make a heap about us of dead foes,
An honest pile for burial.

_Ant._ They are enough.
We'll not divide our stars; but, side by side,
Fight emulous, and with malicious eyes
Survey each other's acts: So every death
Thou giv'st, I'll take on m