Page 2478 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

If this division chance, ne’er stood between,
Praying for both parts:
The good gods will mock me presently, [15]
When I shall pray, ‘O, bless my lord, and husband!’

Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud,
‘O, bless my brother!’ Husband win, win brother,
Prays, and destroys the prayer, no midway
’Twixt these extremes at all.

ANTONY

Gentle Octavia, [20]
Let your best love draw to that point which seeks
Best to preserve it: if I lose mine honour,
I lose myself: better I were not yours
Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested,

Yourself shall go between’s: the mean time, lady, [25]
I’ll raise the preparation of a war
Shall stain your brother: make your soonest haste;

So your desires are yours.

OCTAVIA

Thanks to my lord.
The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak,
Your reconciler! Wars ’twixt you twain would be [30]
As if the world should cleave, and that slain men

Should solder up the rift.

ANTONY
When it appears to you where this begins,
Turn your displeasure that way, for our faults
Can never be so equal, that your love [35]

Can equally move with them. Provide your going,
Choose your own company, and command what cost
Your heart has mind to.
(Exeunt.)

Scene V IT