Dola. Those Roman wits have never been in Egypt;
Cytheris and Delia else had been unsung:
I, who have seen—had I been born a poet,
Should choose a nobler name.

Cleo. You flatter me.
But, ’tis your nation’s vice: All of your country
Are flatterers, and all false. Your friend’s like you.
I’m sure, he sent you not to speak these words.

Dola. No, madam; yet he sent me—

Cleo. Well, he sent you—

Dola. Of a less pleasing errand.

Cleo. How less pleasing?
Less to yourself, or me?

Dola. Madam, to both;
For you must mourn, and I must grieve to cause it.

Cleo. You, Charmion, and your fellow, stand at distance.—
Hold up, my spirits. [Aside]—Well, now your mournful matter!
For I’m prepared, perhaps can guess it too.

Dola. I wish you would; for ’tis a thankless office,
To tell ill news: And I, of all your sex,
Most fear displeasing you.

Cleo. Of all your sex,
I soonest could forgive you, if you should.

Vent. Most delicate advances! Women! women!
Dear, damned, inconstant sex!

Cleo. In the first place,
I am to be forsaken; is’t not so?

Dola. I wish I could not answer to that question.

Cleo. Then pass it o’er, because it troubles you:
I should have been more grieved another time.
Next, I’m to lose my kingdom—Farewell, Egypt!
Yet, is there any more?

Dola. Madam, I fear
Your too deep sense of grief has turned your reason.

Cleo. No, no, I’m not run mad; I can bear fortune:
And love may be expelled by other love,
As poisons are by poisons.

Dola. You o’erjoy me, madam,
To find your griefs so moderately borne.
You’ve heard the worst; all are not false like him.

Cleo. No; Heaven forbid they should.

Dola. Some men are constant.

Cleo. And constancy deserves reward, that’s certain.

Dola. Deserves it not; but give it leave to hope.

Vent. I’ll swear, thou hast my leave. I have enough:
But how to manage this! Well, I’ll consider.

[Exit

Dola. I came prepared
To tell you heavy news; news, which I thought
Would fright the blood from your pale cheeks to hear:
But you have met it with a cheerfulness,
That makes my task more easy; and my tongue,
Which on another’s message was employed,
Would gladly speak its own.