Vent.

You thought me false;

Thought my old age betrayed 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 didst thou tempt my anger, by discovery

Of what I would not hear?

Vent.
No prince but you
Could merit that sincerity I used,

Nor durst another man have ventured it;
But you, ere love misled your wandering eyes,
Were sure the chief and best of human race,
Framed in the very pride and boast of nature;
So perfect that the gods who formed you wondered
At their own skill, and cried-'A lucky hit
Has mended our design.' Their envy hindered,
Else you had been immortal, and a pattern,
When heaven would work for ostentation sake,
To copy out again.

Ant.

But Cleopatra

No more.

Go on; for I can bear it now.

Vent.

395

400

405

410

Ant. Thou dar'st not trust my passion, but thou may'st; Thou only lov'st, the rest have flattered me.

Vent. Heaven'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.

416

[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.
Vent. And will you leave this-

Ant.

420

Pr'ythee, do not curse her,

And I will leave her; though, heaven knows, I love
Beyond life, conquest, empire-all but honour:

But I will leave her.

Vent.
And shall we fight?

That's my royal master.

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 aloud-'Come, follow me!'
Vent. 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 the exchange.

Ant.

Vent. Again?

O Cleopatra !

Ant.
Cæsar shall know what 'tis to force a lover

I've done in that last sigh, she went.

From all he holds most dear.

425

430

Methinks you breathe

435

Vent.
Another soul; your looks are more divine;
You speak a hero, and you move a god.

my soul's up in arms,
Once again,

Ant. Oh, thou hast fired me;
And mans each part about me.
That noble eagerness of fight has seized me,
That eagerness with which I darted upward
To Cassius's camp. In vain the steepy hill
Opposed my way; in vain a war of spears
Sung round my head, and planted all my shield;
I won the trenches, while my foremost men
Lagged on the plain below.

Vent.

For such another hour!

Ye gods, ye gods,

Come on, my soldier !

Ant.
Our hearts and arms 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 'em, mow 'em out a passage,
And, entering where the foremost squadrons yield,
Begin the noble harvest of the field.

NOTES.

203. My birthday &c. Cleopatra has
proclaimed a day of rejoicing:
'Thus Cleopatra bids: Let labour

cease;

440

445

450

[Exeunt

To pomps and triumphs give this

happy day,

That gave the world a lord: 'tis
Antony's.'

Narrate the interview in prose.

ZIMRI: DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

(From Absalom and Achitophel, Part I.)

[Absalom and Achitophel (1681) is 'indisputably the best and most nervous political satire that ever was written' (Sir W. Scott). It was directed against the Popish Plot (1678-9) and the Exclusion Bill (1680-1). (Cf. 2 Sam. xv.-xviii.) Absalom represents the Duke of Monmouth, who passed for a natural son of Charles II.; Achitophel is the Earl of Shaftesbury. ZIMRI is George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham (1627-88), like his father, a witty and profligate royal favourite. In one of his pieces, a famous comedy called the Rehearsal (1671), the Duke had severely ridiculed Dryden, who was then poet-laureate, under the name of Bayes. Dryden did not forget the castigation.

'The character of Zimri in my Absalom is in my opinion worth the whole poem' (Dryden).]

Some of their chiefs were princes of the land :
In the first rank of these did Zimri stand:

A man so various, that he seemed to be
Not one, but all mankind's epitome.
Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong;
Was everything by starts, and nothing long :
But, in the course of one revolving moon,

545

Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon;
Then all for flirting, painting, riming, drinking,
Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Blest madman, who could every hour employ

550

With something new to wish, or to enjoy !

Railing and praising were his usual themes;

555

And both, to shew his judgment, in extremes :

So over violent, or over civil,

That every man, with him, was god or devil.

In squandering wealth was his peculiar art:
Nothing went unrewarded but desert.

560

Beggared by fools, whom still he found too late,

He had his jest, and they had his estate.

He laughed himself from court; then sought relief

By forming parties, but could ne'er be chief:

For spite of him, the weight of business fell
On Absalom, and wise Achitophel :

565

Thus, wicked but in will, of means bereft,
He left not faction, but of that was left.

NOTES.

546. Epitome: abstract, abridgment, | 564. Could ne'er be chief. Buckingham

summary; what brings together in short space the chief points of a large or complex thing. Gr. epitomē: from epi (upon) and tome (a cutting), from tem- (cut).

550. Chymist. The beginnings of our great discoveries in science were in those days. The Royal Society was founded in 1662, under immediate royal patronage. King Charles II. himself was a very fair chemist, and that made dabbling in chemistry fashionable.

561. Still, ever.-Found, found out; discovered their true character.

succeeded Clarendon in 1667 as
chief minister, but he was so flighty
and addicted to vice, that he was
soon hoodwinked by the king and
some of his colleagues. In defer-
ence to an address from the House
of Commons, he was removed from
office in 1674, and notwithstanding
all his efforts, he never recovered
his position.

566. Wise Achitophel. Cf. 2 Sam.
xvi. 23:
'And the counsel of Ahi-
thophel, which he counselled in those
days, was as if a man had enquired
at the oracle of God.'

Compare another celebrated character of Buckingham. Pope (Moral Essays, Ep. iii. 305-314) describing his miserable death in the worst inn's worst room,' the house of a dependant in Yorkshire, ends thus:

'Alas! how changed from him,

That life of pleasure, and that soul of whim!
Gallant and gay, in Cliveden's proud alcove,
The bower of wanton Shrewsbury and love;
Or just as gay, at council, in a ring

Of mimicked statesmen, and their merry king.
No wit to flatter, left of all his store!
No fool to laugh at, which he valued more.
There, victor of his health, of fortune, friends,
And fame, this lord of useless thousands ends.'

ON TRANSLATION (I.)

(From the Preface to The Translation of Ovid's Epistles: 1680.) All translation, I suppose, may be reduced to these three heads:

First, that of Metaphrase, or turning an author word by word, and line by line, from one language into another. Thus, or near this manner, was Horace his Art of Poetry translated by Ben Jonson. The second way is that of Paraphrase, or translation with latitude, where the author is kept in view by the translator so as never