Br.I pray thee
Draw me not into thy deep-plotted schemes
That rush on guilt. If I have hope or wish,
’Tis but to live till the divorce be writ
’Twixt Cæsar and my sister: that is not long
To wait; and then her exile, which must follow,
If I may share, I think some days of peace
May be in store for both. That is my hope,
Not Rome, nor empire, but some tranquil spot
Where innocence may dwell, and be allowed