Page:All for love- or, The world well lost. A tragedy as it is acted at the Theatre-Royal; and written in imitation of Shakespeare's stile. By John Dryden, servant to His Majesty (IA allforloveorworl00indryd).pdf/58

And lick their wounds, and saintly threaten War.
Five thousand Romans with their faces upward,
Lye breathless on the Plain.

Ven.'Tis well: and he
Who lost 'em, could have spar'd Ten thousand more,
Yet if, by this advantage, you could gain
An easier Peace, while Cæsar doubts the Chance
Of Arms!———

Ant.O think not on't, Ventidius;
The Boy pursues my ruin, he'll no peace:
His malice is considerate in advantage;
O, he's the coolest Murderer, so stanch,
He kills, and keeps his temper.

Ven.Have you no friend
In all his Army, who has power to move him,
Mecænas, or Agrippa might do much.

Ant.They're both too deep in Cæsar's interests,
We'll work it out by dint of Sword, or perish,

Ven.Fain I would find some other.

Ant.Thank thy love.
Some four or five such Victories as this,
Will save thy farther pains.

Ven.Expect no more; Cæsar is on his Guard:
I know, Sir, you have conquer'd against ods;
But still you draw Supplies from one poor Town,
And of Ægyptians: He has all the World,
And, at his back, Nations come pouring in,
To fill the gaps you make. Pray think again.

Ant.Why dost thou drive me from my self, to search
For Forreign aids? to hunt my memory,
And range all o're a waste and barren place
To find a Friend? The wretched have no Friends———
Yet I had one, the bravest youth of Rome,
Whom Cæsar loves beyond the love of Women;
He could resolve his mind, as Fire does Wax,
From that hard rugged Image, melt him down,
And mould him in what softer form he pleas'd.

Ven.