ACT IV.
Antony, Dollabella.
Dolla.WHy would you shift it from your self, on me?
Can you not tell her you must part?
Ant.I cannot,
I could pull out an eye, and bid it go,
And t'other should not weep. Oh, Dollabella,
How many Deaths are in this word Depart!
I dare not trust my tongue to tell her so:
One look of hers, would thaw me into tears
And I should melt till I were lost agen.
Dolla.Then let Ventidius;
He's rough by nature.
Ant.Oh, he'll speak too harshly;
He'll kill her with the news: Thou, only thou.
Dolla.Nature has cast me in so soft a mould,
That but to hear a story feign'd for pleasure
Of some sad Lovers death, moistens my eyes,
And robs me of my Manhood.—I should speak
So faintly; with such fear to grieve her heart,
She'd not believe it earnest.
Ant.Therefore; therefore
Thou only, thou art fit: think thy self me,
And when thou speak'st (but let it first be long)
Take off the edge from every sharper sound,
And let our parting be as gently made
As other Loves begin: wilt thou do this?
Dolla.What you have said, so sinks into my Soul,
That, if I must speak, I shall speak just so.
Ant.I leave you then to your sad task: Farewel.
I sent her word to meet you. (Goes to the door, and comes back.)
I forgot;
