Cleo. And ’tis my wish,
Now he is lost for whom alone I lived. 
My sight grows dim, and every object dances,
And swims before me, in the maze of death. 
My spirits, while they were opposed, kept up;
They could not sink beneath a rival’s scorn: 
But now she’s gone, they faint.

Alex. Mine have had leisure To recollect their strength, and furnish counsel, To ruin her, who else must ruin you.

Cleo. Vain promiser! 
Lead me, my Charmion; nay, your hand too, Iras. 
My grief has weight enough to sink you both. 
Conduct me to some solitary chamber,
And draw the curtains round;
Then leave me to myself, to take alone
My fill of grief: 
  There I till death will his unkindness weep;
  As harmless infants moan themselves asleep. [Exeunt.

ACT IV.  SCENE I.

  Enter ANTONY and DOLABELLA.

Dola. Why would you shift it from yourself, 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, Dolabella,
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 again.

Dola. 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.

Dola. Nature has cast me in so soft a mould,
That but to hear a story, feigned for pleasure,
Of some sad lover’s 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 thyself me;
And when thou speak’st, (but let it first be long)
Take off the edge from every sharper sound,
And let our parting he as gently made,
As other loves begin:  Wilt thou do this?

Dola. 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:  Farewell. 
I sent her word to meet you. [Goes to the door, and comes back.
I forgot;
Let her be told, I’ll make her peace with mine: 
Her crown and dignity shall be preserved,
If I have power with Caesar.—­O, be sure
To think on that.

Dola. Fear not, I will remember.
                     [ANTONY goes again to the door, and comes back.

Ant. And tell her, too, how much I was constrained;
I did not this, but with extremest force: 
Desire her not to hate my memory,
For I still cherish hers;—­insist on that.

Dola. Trust me, I’ll not forget it.