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/99

And then die thou: for 'tis but just thou serve
Thy Friend, before thy self.

Ven.Give me your hand.
We soon shall meet again. Now farewel, Emperor. (Embrace.)
Methinks that word's too cold to be my last:
Since Death sweeps all distinctions, Farewel, Friend.
That's all. ———
I will not make a bus'ness of a trifle:
And yet I cannot look on you, and kill you;
Pray turn your face.

Ant.I do: strike home be sure.

Ven.Home, as my Sword will reach. (Kills himself.)

Ant.O, thou mistak'st;
That wound was none of thine: give it me back:
Thou robb'st me of my death.

Ven.I do indeed;
But, think 'tis the first time I e'er deceiv'd you;
If that may plead my pardon. And you, Gods,
Forgive me, if you will; for I die perjur'd,
Rather then kill my Friend. (Dies.)

Ant.Farewel. Ever my Leader, ev'n in death!
My Queen and thou have got the start of me,
And I'm the lag of Honour.———Gone so soon?
Is death no more? He us'd him carelesly,
With a familiar kindness: ere he knock'd,
Ran to the door, and took him in his arms,
As who shou'd say, Y'are welcome at all hours,
A Friend need give no warning. Books had spoil'd him;
For all the Learn'd are Cowards by profession.
'Tis not worth
My farther thought; for death, for ought I know,
Is but to think no more. Here's to be satisfi'd. (Falls on his Sword.)
I've mist my heart. O unperforming hand!
Thou never cou'dst have err'd in a worse time.
My Fortune jades me to the last; and death,
Like a great Man, takes state, and makes me wait
For my admittance. ——— (Trampling within.)
Some perhaps from Cæsar:
If he shou'd find me living, and suspect

That