# All for Love (Dryden)/Act 1

ALL for LOVE;
OR, THE
World well Lost.
Act. I. Scene, The Temple of Isis.
Enter Serapion, Myris, Priests of Isis.
Serap.POrtents and Prodigies, are grown so frequent, That they have lost their Name. Our fruitful Nile Flow'd ere the wonted Season, with a Torrent So unexpected, and so wondrous fierce, That the wild Deluge overtook the haste, Ev'n of the Hinds that watch'd it: Men and Beasts Were born above the tops of Trees, that grew On th' utmost Margin of the Water-mark. Then, with so swift an Ebb, the Floud drove backward It slipt from underneath the Scaly Herd: Here monstrous Phocœ panted on the Shore; Forsaken Dolphins there, with their broad tails, Lay lashing the departing Waves: Hard by 'em, Sea-Horses floundring in the slimy mud, Toss'd up their heads, and dash'd the ooze about 'em.
Enter Alexas behind them.
Myr.Avert these Omens, Heav'n.
Serap.Last night, between the hours of Twelve and One, In a lone Isle o'th' Temple, while I walk'd, A Whirl-wind rose, that, with a violent blast, Shook all the Dome: the Doors around me clapt, The Iron Wicket that defends the Vault, Where the long Race of Ptolomies is lay'd, Burst open, and disclos'd the mighty dead. From out each Monument, in order plac'd, An Armed Ghost start up: the Boy-King last Rear'd his inglorious head. A peal of groans Then follow'd, and a lamentable voice Cry'd, Ægypt is no more. My blood ran back, My shaking knees against each other knock'd; On the cold pavement, down I fell intranc'd, And so unfinish'd left the horrid scene. Alexas showing himself.] And, Dream'd you this? or, Did invent the Story? To frighten our Ægyptian Boys withal, And train 'em up betimes in fear of Priesthood?
Serap.My Lord, I saw you not, Nor meant my words should reach your ears; but what I utter'd was most true.
Alex.A foolish Dream, Bred from the fumes of indigested Feasts, And holy Luxury.
Serap.I know my duty: This goes no farther.
Alex.'Tis not fit it should. Nor would the times now bear it, were it true. All Southern, from you hills, the Roman Camp Hangs o'er us black and threatning, like a Storm Just breaking on our heads.
Serap.Our faint Ægyptians pray for Antony; But in their Servile hearts they own Octavius.
Myr.Why then does Antony dream out his hours, And tempts not Fortune for a noble Day, Which might redeem, what Actium lost?
Alex.He thinks 'tis past recovery.
Serap.Yet the Foe Seems not to press the Siege.
Alex.O, there's the wonder. Mecaenas and Agrippa, who can most With Caesar are his Foes. His Wife Octavia, Driv'n from his House, solicits her revenge; And Dolabella, who was once his Friend, Upon some private grudge, now seeks his ruine: Yet still War seems on either side to sleep.
Serap.'Tis strange that Antony, for some dayes past, Has not beheld the face of Cleopatra; But here, in Isis Temple, lives retir'd, And makes his Heart a Prey to black despair.
Alex.'Tis true; and we much fear he hopes by absence To cure his mind of Love.
Serap.If he be vanquish'd, Or make his peace, Ægypt is doom'd to be A Roman Province; and our plenteous Harvests Must then redeem the scarceness of their Soil. While Antony stood firm, our Alexandria Rival'd proud Rome (Dominions other Seat) And fortune striding, like a vast Colossus, Cou'd fix an equal foot of Empire here.
Alex.Had I my wish, these Tyrants of all Nature Who Lord it o'er Mankind, should perish, perish, Each by the others Sword; but, since our will Is lamely follow'd by our pow'r, we must Depend on one; with him to rise or fall.
Serap.How stands the Queen affected?
Alex.O, she dotes, She dotes, Serapion, on this vanquish'd Man, And winds her self about his mighty ruins, Whom would she yet forsake, yet yield him up, This hunted prey, to his pursuers hands, She might preserve us all; but 'tis in vain ——— This changes my designs, this blasts my Counsels, And makes me use all means to keep him here, Whom I could wish divided from her Arms Far as the Earth's deep Center. Well, you know The state of things; no more of your ill Omens, And black Prognosticks; labour to confirm The peoples hearts.
Enter Ventidius, talking aside with a Gentleman of Antony's.
Serap.These Romans will o'rehear us. But, Who's that Stranger? By his warlike port, His fierce demeanor, and erected look, He's of no vulgar note.
Alex.O 'tis Ventidius, Our Emp'rors great Lieutenant in the East, Who first show'd Rome that Parthia could be conquer'd. When Antony return'd from Syria last, He left this Man to guard the Roman Frontiers.
Serap.You seem to know him well.
Alex.Too well. I saw him in Cilicia first, When Cleopatra there met Antony: A mortal foe he was to us, and Ægypt. But, let me witness to the worth I hate, A braver Roman never drew a Sword. Firm to his Prince; but, as a friend, not slave. He ne'r was of his pleasures; but presides O're all his cooler hours and morning counsels: In short, the plainness, fierceness, rugged virtue Of an old true-stampt Roman lives in him. His coming bodes I know not what of ill To our affairs. Withdraw, to mark him better; And I'll acquaint you why I sought you here, And what's our present work. [They withdraw to a corner of the Stage; and Ventidius, with the other, comes forwards to the front.
Ventidius.Not see him, say you? I say, I must and will.
Gent.He has commanded, On pain of death, none should approach his presence:
Ven.I bring him news will raise his drooping Spirits, Give him new life.
Gent.He sees not Cleopatra.
Ven.Would he had never seen her.
Gent.He eats not, drinks not, sleeps not, has no use Of any thing, but thought; or, if he talks, 'Tis to himself, and then 'tis perfect raving: Then he defies the World, and bids it pass; Sometimes he gnaws his Lip, and Curses loud The Boy Octavius; then he draws his mouth
Into a scornful smile, and cries, Take all, The World's not worth my care.
Ven.Just, just his nature. Virtue's his path; but sometimes 'tis too narrow For his vast Soul; and then he starts out wide, And bounds into a Vice that bears him far From his first course, and plunges him in ills: But, when his danger makes him find his fault, Quick to observe, and full of sharp remorse, He censures eagerly his own misdeeds, Judging himself with malice to himself, And not forgiving what as Man he did, Because his other parts are more than Man. He must not thus be lost.[Alexas and the Priests come forward.
Alex.You have your full Instructions, now advance; Proclaim your Orders loudly.
Serap.Romans, Ǣgyptians, hear the Queen's Command. Thus Cleopatra bids, Let Labor cease, To Pomp and Triumphs give this happy day, That gave the World a Lord: 'tis Antony's. Live, Antony; and Cleopatra live. Be this the general voice sent up to Heav'n, And every publick place repeat this eccho.
Ven. aside.Fine Pageantry!
Serap.Set out before your doors The Images of all your sleeping Fathers, With Laurels crown'd; with Laurels wreath your posts, And strow with Flow'rs the Pavement; Let the Priests Do present Sacrifice; pour out the Wine, And call the Gods to joyn with you in gladness.
Ven.Curse on the tongue that bids this general joy. Can they be friends of Antony, who Revel When Antony's in danger? Hide, for shame, You Romans, your Great grandsires Images, For fear their Souls should animate their Marbles, To blush at their degenerate Progeny.
Alex.A Love which knows no bounds to Antony, Would mark the Day with honors; when all Heaven Labour'd for him, when each propitious Star
Stood wakeful in his Orb, to watch that hour, And shed his better influence. Her own Birth-day Our Queen neglected, like a vulgar Fate, That pass'd obscurely by.
Ven.Would it had slept, Divided far from his; till some remote And future Age had call'd it out, to ruin Some other Prince, not him.
Alex.Your Emperor, Tho grown unkind, would be more gentle, than T'upbraid my Queen, for loving him too well.
Ven.Does the mute Sacrifice upbraid the Priest? He knows him not his Executioner. O, she has deck'd his ruin with her love, Led him in golden bands to gaudy slaughter, And made perdition pleasing: She has left him The blank of what he was; I tell thee, Eunuch, she has unmann'd him: Can any Roman see, and know him now, Thus alter'd from the Lord of half Mankind, Unbent, unsinew'd, made a Womans Toy, Shrunk from the vast extent of all his honors, And crampt within a corner of the World? O, Antony! Thou bravest Soldier, and thou best of Friends! Bounteous as Nature; next to Nature's God! Could'st thou but make new Worlds, so wouldst thou give 'em, As Bounty were thy being, Rough in Battel, As the first Romans, when they went to War; Yet, after Victory, more pitiful, Than all their Praying Virgins left at home!
Alex.Would you could add to those more shining Virtues, His Truth to her who loves him.
Ven.Would I could not. But, Wherefore waste I precious hours with thee? Thou art her darling mischief, her chief Engin, Antony's other Fate. Go, tell thy Queen, Ventidius is arriv'd, to end her Charms. Let your AEgyptian Timbrels play alone;
Nor mix Effeminate Sounds with Roman Trumpets. You dare not fight for Antony; go Pray, And keep your Cowards-Holy-day in Temples.[Exeunt Alex. Serap.
Re-enter the Gentleman of M. Antony.
2. Gent.The Emperor approaches, and commands, On pain of death that none presume to stay.
1. Gent.I dare not disobey him. [Going out with the other.
Vent.Well, I dare. But, I'll observe him first unseen, and find Which way his humour drives: the rest I'll venture. [Withdraws.
Enter Antony, walking with a disturb'd Motion, before he speaks.
Antony.They tell me 'tis my Birth-day, and I'll keep it With double pomp of sadness. 'Tis what the day deserves, which gave me breath. Why was I rais'd the Meteor of the World, Hung in the Skies, and blazing as I travel'd, Till all my fires were spent; and then cast downward To be trod out by Cæsar?
Ven. aside.On my Soul, 'Tis mournful, wondrous mournful!
Anto.Count thy gains. Now, Antony, Wouldst thou be born for this? Glutton of Fortune, thy devouring youth Has starv'd thy wanting Age.
Ven.How sorrow shakes him! [aside. So, now the Tempest tears him up by th' Roots, And on the ground extends the noble Ruin.
Ant. having thrown himself down.
The place thou pressest on thy Mother Earth Is all thy Empire now: now it contains thee; Some few dayes hence, and then twill be too large, When thou'rt contracted in thy narrow Urn, Shrunk to a few cold Ashes; then Octavia, (For Cleopatra will not live to see it) Octavia then will have thee all her own, And bear thee in her Widow'd hand to Cææsar;
Cæsar will weep, the Crocodile will weep, To see his Rival of the Universe Lye still and peaceful there. I'll think no more on't. Give me some Musick; look that it be sad: I'll sooth my Melancholy, till I swell, And burst my self with sighing——— [Soft Musick. 'Tis somewhat to my humor. Stay, I fancy I'm now turn'd wild, a Commoner of Nature; Of all forsaken, and forsaking all; Live in a shady Forrest's Sylvan Scene, Stretch'd at my length beneath some blasted Oke; I lean my head upon the Mossy Bark, And look just of a piece, as I grew from it: My uncomb'd Locks, matted like Misleto, Hang o're my hoary Face; a murm'ring Brook Runs at my foot.
Ven.Methinks I fancy My self there too.
Ant.The Herd come jumping by me, And fearless, quench their thirst, while I look on, And take me for their fellow-Citizen, More of this Image, more; it lulls my thoughts. [Soft Musick again.
Ven.I must disturb him; I can hold no longer. [Stands before him.
Ant. starting up.Art thou Ventidius?
Ven.Are you Antony? I'm liker what I was, than you to him I left you last.
Ant.I'm angry.
Ven.So am I.
Ant.I would be private: leave me.
Ven.Sir, I love you, And therefore will not leave you.
Ant.Will not leave me? Where have you learnt that Answer? Who am I?
Ven.My Emperor; the Man I love next Heaven: If I said more, I think 'twere scarce a Sin; Y'are all that's good, and good-like.
Ant.All that's wretched. You will not leave me then?
Ven.'Twas too presuming To say I would not; but I dare not leave you: And, 'tis unkind in you to chide me hence So soon, when I so far have come to see you.
Ant.Now thou hast seen me, art thou satisfy'd? For, if a Friend, thou hast beheld enough; And, if a Foe, too much.
Ven. weeping.Look, Emperor, this is no common Deaw, I have not wept this Forty years; but now My Mother comes afresh into my eyes; I cannot help her softness.
Ant.By Heav'n, he weeps, poor good old Man, he weeps! The big round drops course one another down The furrows of his cheeks. Stop 'em, Ventidius, Or I shall blush to death: they set my shame, That caus'd 'em, full before me.
Ven.I'll do my best.
Ant.Sure there's contagion in the tears of Friends: See, I have caught it too. Believe me, 'tis not For my own griefs, but thine ——— Nay, Father.
Ven.Emperor.
Ant.Emperor! Why, that's the stile of Victory, The Conqu'ring Soldier, red with unfelt wounds, Salutes his General so: but never more Shall that sound reach my ears.
Ven.I warrant you.
Ant.Actium, Actium! Oh—
Ven.It sits too near you.
Ant.Here, here it lies; a lump of Lead by day, And, in my short distracted nightly slumbers, The Hag that rides my Dreams———
Vent.Out with it; give it vent.
Ant.Urge not my shame. I lost a Battel.
Vent.So has Julius done.
Ant.Thou favour'st me, and speak'st not half thou think'st; For Julius fought it out, and lost it fairly:
But Antony ———
Ven.Nay, stop not.
Ant.Antony, (Well, thou wilt have it) like a coward, fled, Fled while his Soldiers fought; fled first, Ventidius. Thou long'st to curse me, and I give the leave. I know thou cam'st prepar'd to rail.
Ven.I did.
Ant.I'll help thee——I have been a Man, Ventidius.
Ven.Yes, and a brave one; but ———
Ant.I know thy meaning. But, I have lost my Reason, have disgrac'd The name of Soldier, with inglorious ease. In the full Vintage of my flowing honors, Sate still, and saw it prest by other hands. Fortune came smiling to my youth, and woo'd it, And purple greatness met my ripen'd years. When first I came to Empire, I was born On Tides of People, crouding to my Triumphs; The wish of Nations; and the willing World Receiv'd me as its pledge of future peace; I was so great, so happy, so belov'd, Fate could not ruine me; till I took pains And work'd against my Fortune, chid her from me, And turn'd her loose; yet still she came again. My careless dayes, and my luxurious nights, At length have weary'd her, and now she's gone, Gone, gone, divorc'd for ever. Help me, Soldier, To curse this Mad-man, this industrious Fool, Who labour'd to be wretched: pr'ythee curse me.
Ven.No.
Ant.Why?
Ven.You are too sensible already Of what y'have done, too conscious of your failings, And, like a Scorpion, whipt by others first To fury, sting your self in mad revenge. I would bring Balm and pour it in your wounds, Cure your distemper'd mind, and heal your fortunes.
Ant.I know thou would'st.
Ven.I will.
Ant.Ha, ha, ha, ha.
Ven.You laugh.
Ant.I do, to see officious love Give Cordials to the dead.
Ven.You would be lost then?
Ant.I am.
Ven.I say, you are not. Try your fortune.
Ant.I have to th'utmost. Dost thou think me desperate, Without just cause? No, when I found all lost Beyond repair, I hid me from the World, And learnt to scorn it here; which now I do So heartily, I think it is not worth The cost of keeping.
Ven.Cæsar thinks not so: He'l thank you for the gift he could not take. You would be kill'd, like Tully, would you? do, Hold out your Throat to Cæsar, and dye tamely.
Ant.No, I can kill my self; and so resolve.
Ven.I can dy with you too, when time shall serve; But Fortune calls upon us now to live, To fight, to Conquer.
Ant.Sure thou Dream'st, Ventidius.
Ven.No, 'tis you Dream; you sleep away your hours In desperate sloth, miscall'd Phylosophy. Up, up, for Honor's sake; twelve Legions wait you, And long to call you Chief: by painful journeys, I led 'em, patient, both of heat and hunger, Down from the Parthian Marches, to the Nile. 'Twill do you good to see their Sun-burnt faces, Their skar'd cheeks and chopt hands; there's virtue in 'em, They'l sell those mangled limbs at dearer rates Than yon trim Bands can buy.
Ant.Where left you them?
Ven.I said, in lower Syria.
Ant.Bring 'em hither; There may be life in these.
Ven.They will not come.
Ant.Why did'st thou mock my hopes with promis'd aids
To double my despair? They'r mutinous.
Ven.Most firm and loyal.
Ant.Yet they will not march To succor me. Oh trifler!
Ven.They petition You would make hast to head 'em.
Ant.I'm besieg'd.
Ven.There's but one way shut up: How came I hither?
Ant.I will not stir.
Ven.They would perhaps desire A better reason.
Ant.I have never us'd My Soldiers to demand a reason of My actions. Why did they refuse to March?
Ven.They said, they would not fight for Cleopatra.
Ant.What was't they said?
Ven.They said they would not fight for Cleopatra. Why should they fight indeed, to make her Conquer, And make you more a Slave? to gain you Kingdoms, Which, for a kiss, at your next midnight Feast, You'l sell to her? then she new names her Jewels, And calls this Diamond such or such a Tax, Each Pendant in her ear shall be a Province.
Ant.Ventidius, I allow your Tongue free licence On all my other faults; but, on your life, No word of Cleopatra: She deserves More World's than I can lose.
Ven.Behold, you Pow'rs, To whom you have intrusted Humankind; See Europe, Africk, Asia put in balance, And all weigh'd down by one light worthless Woman! I think the Gods are Antony's, and give Like Prodigals, this neather World away, To none but wastful hands.
Ant.You grow presumptuous.
Ven.I take the priviledge of plain love to speak.
Ant.Plain love! plain arrogance, plain insolence: Thy Men are Cowards; thou an envious Traitor; Who, under seeming honesty, hast vented
The burden of thy rank o'reflowing Gall. O that thou wert my equal; great in Arms. As the first Cæsar was, that I might kill thee Without a Stain to Honor!
Ven.You may kill me; You have done more already, call'd me Traitor.
Ant.Art thou not one?
Ven.For showing you your self, Which none else durst have done; but had I been That name, which I disdain to speak again, I needed not have sought your abject fortunes, Come to partake your fate, to dye with you. What hindred me t' have led my Conqu'ring Eagles To fill Octavius's Bands? I could have been A Traitor then, a glorious happy Traitor, And not have been so call'd.
Ant.Forgive me, Soldier: I've been too passionate.
Ven.You thought me false; Thought my old age betray'd you: kill me, Sir; Pray kill me; yet you need not, your unkindness Has left your Sword no work.
Ant.I did not think so; I said it in my rage: pr'ythee forgive me: Why did'st thou tempt my anger, by discovery Of what I would not hear?
Ven.No Prince but you, Could merit that sincerity I us'd, Nor durst another Man have ventur'd it; But you, ere Love misled your wandring eyes, Were sure the chief and best of Human Race, Fram'd in the very pride and boast of Nature, So perfect, that the gods who form'd you wonder'd At their own skill, and cry'd, A lucky hit Has mended our design. Their envy hindred, Else you had been immortal, and a pattern, When Heav'n would work for ostentation sake, To copy out again.
Ant.But Cleopatra———
Go on; for I can bear it now.
Ven.No more.
Ant.Thou dar'st not trust my Passion; but thou may'st: Thou only lov'st; the rest have flatter'd me.
Ven.Heav'n's blessing on your heart, for that kind word. May I believe you love me? speak again.
Ant.Indeed I do. Speak this, and this, and this. [Hugging him. Thy praises were unjust; but, I'll deserve 'em, And yet mend all. Do with me what thou wilt; Lead me to victory, thou know'st the way.
Ven.And, Will you leave this———
Ant.Pr'ythee do not curse her, And I will leave her; though, Heav'n knows, I love Beyond Life, Conquest, Empire; all, but Honor: But I will leave her.
Ven.That's my Royal Master. And, Shall we fight?
Ant.I warrant thee, old Soldier, Thou shalt behold me once again in Iron, And at the head of our old Troops, that beat The Parthians, cry alloud, Come follow me.
Ven.O now I hear my Emperor! in that word Octavius fell. Gods, let me see that day, And if I have Ten years behind, take all; I'll thank you for th' exchange.
Ant.Oh Cleopatra!
Ven.Again?
Ant.I've done: in that last sigh, she went. Cæsar shall know what 'tis to force a Lover, From all he holds most dear.
Ven.Methinks you breath Another Soul: Your looks are more Divine; You speak a Heroe, and you move a God.
Ant.O, thou hast fir'd me; my Soul's up in Arms, And Mans each part about me: once again, That noble eagerness of fight has seiz'd me; That eagerness with which I darted upward To Cassius's Camp: In vain the steepy Hill, Oppos'd my way; in vain a War of Speares
Sung round my head; and planted all my shield: I won the Trenches, while my formost Men Lag'd on the Plain below.
Ven.Ye Gods, ye Gods, For such another hour.
Ant.Come on, My Soldier! Our hearts and armes are still the same: I long Once more to meet our foes; that Thou and I, Like Time and Death, marching before our Troops, May taste fate to e'm; Mowe e'm out a passage, And, entring where the foremost Squadrons yield, Begin the noble Harvest of the Field. [Exeunt.
Layout 2