Char. He bid me say,—­He knew himself so well, He could deny you nothing, if he saw you; And therefore—­

Cleo. Thou wouldst say, he would not see me?

Char. And therefore begged you not to use a power, Which he could ill resist; yet he should ever Respect you, as he ought.

Cleo. Is that a word
For Antony to use to Cleopatra? 
Oh that faint word, respect! how I disdain it! 
Disdain myself, for loving after it! 
He should have kept that word for cold Octavia. 
Respect is for a wife:  Am I that thing,
That dull insipid lump, without desires,
And without power to give them?

Alex. You misjudge;
You see through love, and that deludes your sight;
As, what is straight, seems crooked through the water: 
But I, who bear my reason undisturbed,
Can see this Antony, this dreaded man,
A fearful slave, who fain would run away,
And shuns his master’s eyes:  If you pursue him,
My life on’t, he still drags a chain along,
That needs must clog his flight.

Cleo. Could I believe thee!—­

Alex. By every circumstance I know he loves. 
True, he’s hard prest, by interest and by honour;
Yet he but doubts, and parleys, and casts out
Many a long look for succour.

Cleo. He sends word, He fears to see my face.

Alex. And would you more? 
He shows his weakness, who declines the combat,
And you must urge your fortune.  Could he speak
More plainly?  To my ears, the message sounds—­
Come to my rescue, Cleopatra, come;
Come, free me from Ventidius; from my tyrant: 
See me, and give me a pretence to leave him!—­
I hear his trumpets.  This way he must pass. 
Please you, retire a while; I’ll work him first,
That he may bend more easy.

Cleo. You shall rule me; But all, I fear, in vain. [Exit with CHAR. and IRAS.

Alex. I fear so too; Though I concealed my thoughts, to make her bold; But ’tis our utmost means, and fate befriend it! [Withdraws.

  Enter Lictors with Fasces; one bearing the Eagle; then enter
  ANTONY with VENTIDIUS, followed by other Commanders.

Ant. Octavius is the minion of blind chance, But holds from virtue nothing.

Vent. Has he courage?

Ant. But just enough to season him from coward. 
O, ’tis the coldest youth upon a charge,
The most deliberate fighter! if he ventures,
(As in Illyria once, they say, he did,
To storm a town) ’tis when he cannot chuse;
When all the world have fixt their eyes upon him;
And then he lives on that for seven years after;
But, at a close revenge he never fails.

Vent. I heard you challenged him.

Ant. I did, Ventidius. 
What think’st thou was his answer?  ’Twas so tame!—­
He said, he had more ways than one to die;
I had not.