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/92

With Antony, your well-appointed Fleet
Row out; and thrice he wav'd 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 dissembling smile would kiss at parting,
And flatter to the last; the well-tim'd 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
(Receiv'd like Friends) past through, and fell behind
The Roman rear: and now, they all come forward,
And ride within the Port.

Cleop.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 express'd by words:
Thrice he attempted headlong to have faln
Full on his foes, and aim'd at Cæsar's Galley:
With-held, he raves on you; cries, He's betray'd
Should he now find you.———

Alex.Shun him, seek your safety,
Till you can clear your innocence.

Cleop.I'll stay.

Alex.You must not, haste you to your Monument,
While I make speed to Cæsar.

Cleop.Cæsar! No,
I have no business with him.

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

Cleop.Base fawning Wretch! wouldst thou betray him too?
Hence from my sight, I will not hear a Traytor;
'Twas thy design brought all this ruine on us;
Serapion, thou art honest; counsel me:
But haste, each moment's precious.

Serap.Retire; you must not yet see Antony.

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