And in a sphere to hold you where one is
And is no more (I picture such a heaven
As latest breath with latest breath immingled),
Ah, that were worth the self-dealt death, ’twould be
Beyond the grave, that home where horror dwells,
To find still one more rapture. Mariamne,
Dare I hope such a thing, or must fear take me
That you would—Antony has asked of you!
Mar.
Men do not issue notes of hand for acts,