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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14771-0.txt b/14771-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b9b13d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/14771-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3717 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14771 *** + +THE FALSE ONE + +A Tragedy + +by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +Edited by Arnold Glover + + + + + + + + +PERSONS REPRESENTED IN THE PLAY. + + Julius Cæsar, _Emperour of_ Rome. + Ptolomy, _King of_ Ægypt. + Achoreus, _an honest Counsellor, Priest of_ Isis. + Photinus, _a Politician, minion to_ Ptolomy. + Achillas, _Captain of the Guard to_ Ptolomy. + Septimius, _a revolted Roman Villain._ + Labienus, _a Roman Souldier, and_ Nuncio. + Apollodorus, _Guardian to_ Cleopatra. + Antonie, ) + Dolabella, ) Cæsars _Captains._ + Sceva, _a free Speaker, also Captain to_ Cæsar. + _Guard._ + _Three lame Souldiers._ + _Servants._ + + +_WOMEN._ + + Cleopatra, _Queen of_ Ægypt. Cæsar's _Mistris._ + Arsino, Cleopatra's _Sister._ + Eros, Cleopatra's _waiting Woman._ + + + +_The Scene_ Ægypt. + + + +The principal Actors were, + + _John Lowin._ + _John Underwood._ + _Robert Benfield._ + _Richard Sharpe._ + _Joseph Taylor._ + _Nicholas Toolie._ + _John Rice._ + _George Birch._ + + + + +_ACTUS PRIMUS. SCENA PRIMA._ + + _Enter_ Achillas, _and_ Achoreus. + + [_Ach._] I love the King, nor do dispute his power, + (For that is not confin'd, nor to be censur'd + By me, that am his Subject) yet allow me + The liberty of a Man, that still would be + A friend to Justice, to demand the motives + That did induce young _Ptolomy_, or _Photinus_, + (To whose directions he gives up himself, + And I hope wisely) to commit his Sister, + The Princess _Cleopatra_ (if I said + The Queen) _Achillas_ 'twere (I hope) no treason, + She being by her Fathers Testament + (Whose memory I bow to) left Co-heir + In all he stood possest of. + + _Achil._ 'Tis confest + (My good _Achoreus_) that in these Eastern Kingdoms + Women are not exempted from the Sceptre, + But claim a priviledge, equal to the Male; + But how much such divisions have ta'en from + The Majesty of _Egypt_, and what factions + Have sprung from those partitions, to the ruine + Of the poor Subject, (doubtful which to follow,) + We have too many, and too sad examples, + Therefore the wise _Photinus_, to prevent + The Murthers, and the Massacres, that attend + On disunited Government, and to shew + The King without a Partner, in full splendour, + Thought it convenient the fair _Cleopatra_, + (An attribute not frequent to the Climate) + Should be committed in safe Custody, + In which she is attended like her Birth, + Until her Beauty, or her royal Dowre, + Hath found her out a Husband. + + _Ach._ How this may + Stand with the rules of policy, I know not; + Most sure I am, it holds no correspondence + With the Rites of _Ægypt_, or the Laws of Nature; + But grant that _Cleopatra_ can sit down + With this disgrace (though insupportable) + Can you imagine, that _Romes_ glorious Senate + (To whose charge, by the will of the dead King + This government was deliver'd) or great _Pompey_, + (That is appointed _Cleopatra_'s Guardian + As well as _Ptolomies_) will e're approve + Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought for, + That should authorize it? + + _Achil._ The Civil war + In which the _Roman_ Empire is embarqu'd + On a rough Sea of danger, does exact + Their whole care to preserve themselves, and gives them + No vacant time to think of what we do, + Which hardly can concern them. + + _Ach._ What's your opinion + Of the success? I have heard, in multitudes + Of Souldiers, and all glorious pomp of war, + _Pompey_ is much superiour. + + _Achil._ I could give you + A Catalogue of all the several Nations + From whence he drew his powers: but that were tedious. + They have rich arms, are ten to one in number, + Which makes them think the day already won; + And _Pompey_ being master of the Sea, + Such plenty of all delicates are brought in, + As if the place on which they are entrench'd, + Were not a Camp of Souldiers, but _Rome_, + In which _Lucullus_ and _Apicius_ joyn'd, + To make a publique Feast: they at _Dirachium_ + Fought with success; but knew not to make use of + _Fortunes_ fair offer: so much I have heard + _Cæsar_ himself confess. + + _Ach._ Where are they now? + + _Achil._ In _Thessalie_, near the _Pharsalian_ plains + Where _Cæsar_ with a handfull of his Men + Hems in the greater number: his whole troops + Exceed not twenty thousand, but old Souldiers + Flesh'd in the spoils of _Germany_ and _France_, + Inur'd to his Command, and only know + To fight and overcome; And though that _Famine_ + Raigns in his Camp, compelling them to tast + Bread made of roots, forbid the use of man, + (Which they with scorn threw into _Pompeys_ Camp + As in derision of his Delicates) + Or corn not yet half ripe, and that a Banquet: + They still besiege him, being ambitious only + To come to blows, and let their swords determine + Who hath the better Cause. + + _Enter_ Septi[m]ius. + + _Ach._ May Victory + Attend on't, where it is. + + _Achil._ We every hour + Expect to hear the issue. + + _Sep._ Save my good Lords; + By _Isis_ and _Osiris_, whom you worship; + And the four hundred gods and goddesses + Ador'd in _Rome_, I am your honours servant. + + _Ach._ Truth needs, _Septimius_, no oaths. + + _Achil._ You are cruel, + If you deny him swearing, you take from him + Three full parts of his language. + + _Sep._ Your Honour's bitter, + Confound me, where I love I cannot say it, + But I must swear't: yet such is my ill fortune, + Nor vows, nor protestations win belief, + I think, and (I can find no other reason) + Because I am a _Roman_. + + _Ach._ No _Septimius_, + To be a _Roman_ were an honour to you, + Did not your manners, and your life take from it, + And cry aloud, that from _Rome_ you bring nothing + But _Roman_ Vices, which you would plant here, + But no seed of her vertues. + + _Sep._ With your reverence + I am too old to learn. + + _Ach._ Any thing honest, + That I believe, without an oath. + + _Sep._ I fear + Your Lordship has slept ill to night, and that + Invites this sad discourse: 'twill make you old + Before your time:--O these vertuous Morals, + And old religious principles, that fool us! + I have brought you a new Song, will make you laugh, + Though you were at your prayers. + + _A[c]h._ What is the subject? + Be free _Septimius_. + + _Sep._ 'Tis a Catalogue + Of all the Gamesters of the Court and City, + Which Lord lyes with that Lady, and what Gallant + Sports with that Merchants wife; and does relate + Who sells her honour for a Diamond, + Who, for a tissew robe: whose husband's jealous, + And who so kind, that, to share with his wife, + Will make the match himself: + Harmless conceits, + Though fools say they are dangerous: I sang it + The last night at my Lord _Photinus_ table. + + _Ach._ How? as a Fidler? + + _Sep._ No Sir, as a Guest, + A welcom guest too: and it was approv'd of + By a dozen of his friends, though they were touch'd in't: + For look you, 'tis a kind of merriment, + When we have laid by foolish modesty + (As not a man of fashion will wear it) + To talk what we have done; at least to hear it; + If meerily set down, it fires the blood, + And heightens Crest-faln appetite. + + _Ach._ New doctrine! + + _Achil._ Was't of your own composing? + + _Sep._ No, I bought it + Of a skulking Scribler for two Ptolomies: + But the hints were mine own; the wretch was fearfull: + But I have damn'd my self, should it be question'd, + That I will own it. + + _Ach._ And be punished for it: + Take heed: for you may so long exercise + Your scurrilous wit against authority, + The Kingdoms Counsels; and make profane Jests, + (Which to you (being an atheist) is nothing) + Against Religion, that your great maintainers + (Unless they would be thought Co-partners with you) + Will leave you to the Law: and then, _Septimius_, + Remember there are whips. + + _Sep._ For whore's I grant you, + When they are out of date, till then are safe too, + Or all the Gallants of the Court are Eunuchs, + And for mine own defence I'le only add this, + I'le be admitted for a wanton tale + To some most private Cabinets, when your Priest-hood + (Though laden with the mysteries of your goddess) + Shall wait without unnoted: so I leave you + To your pious thoughts. [_Exit._ + + _Achil._ 'Tis a strange impudence, + This fellow does put on. + + _Ach._ The wonder great, + He is accepted of. + + _Achil._ Vices, for him, + Make as free way as vertues doe for others. + 'Tis the times fault: yet Great ones still have grace'd + To make them sport, or rub them o're with flattery, + Observers of all kinds. + + _Enter_ Photinus, _and_ Septimius. + + _Ach._ No more of him, + He is not worth our thoughts: a Fugitive + From _Pompeys_ army: and now in a danger + When he should use his service. + + _Achil._ See how he hangs + On great _Photinus_ Ear. + + _Sep._ Hell, and the furies, + And all the plagues of darkness light upon me: + You are my god on earth: and let me have + Your favour here, fall what can fall hereafter. + + _Pho._ Thou art believ'd: dost thou want mony? + + _Sep._ No Sir. + + _Pho._ Or hast thou any suite? these ever follow + Thy vehement protestations. + + _Sep._ You much wrong me; + How can I want, when your beams shine upon me, + Unless employment to express my zeal + To do your greatness service? do but think + A deed so dark, the Sun would blush to look on, + For which Man-kind would curse me, and arm all + The powers above, and those below against me: + Command me, I will on. + + _Pho._ When I have use, + I'le put you to the test. + + _Sep._ May it be speedy, + And something worth my danger: you are cold, + And know not your own powers: this brow was fashion'd + To wear a Kingly wreath, and your grave judgment, + Given to dispose of monarchies, not to govern + A childs affairs, the peoples eye's upon you, + The Souldier courts you: will you wear a garment + Of sordid loyalty when 'tis out of fashion? + + _Pho._ When _Pompey_ was thy General, _Septimius_, + Thou saidst as much to him. + + _Sep._ All my love to him, + To _Cæsar_, _Rome_, and the whole world is lost + In the Ocean of your Bounties: I have no friend, + Project, design, or Countrey, but your favour, + Which I'le preserve at any rate. + + _Pho._ No more; + When I call on you, fall not off: perhaps + Sooner than you expect, I may employ you, + So leave me for a while. + + _Sep._ Ever your Creature. [_Exit._ + + _Pho._ Good day _Achoreus_; my best friend _Achillas_, + Hath fame deliver'd yet no certain rumour + Of the great _Roman Action_? + + _Achil._ That we are + To enquire, and learn of you Sir: whose grave care + For _Egypts_ happiness, and great _Ptolomies_ good, + Hath eyes and ears in all parts. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Labienus, _Guard._ + + _Pho._ I'le not boast, + What my Intelligence costs me: but 'ere long + You shall know more. The King, with him a _Roman_. + + _Ach._ The scarlet livery of unfortunate war + Dy'd deeply on his face. + + _Achil._ 'Tis _Labienus_ + _Cæsars_ Lieutenant in the wars of _Gaul_, + And fortunate in all his undertakings: + But since these Civil jars he turn'd to _Pompey_, + And though he followed the better Cause + Not with the like success. + + _Pho._ Such as are wise + Leave falling buildings, flye to those that rise; + But more of that hereafter. + + _Lab._ In a word, Sir, + These gaping wounds, not taken as a slave, + Speak _Pompey's_ loss: to tell you of the Battail, + How many thousand several bloody shapes + Death wore that day in triumph: how we bore + The shock of _Cæsars_ charge: or with what fury + His Souldiers came on as if they had been + So many _Cæsars_, and like him ambitious + To tread upon the liberty of _Rome_: + How Fathers kill'd their Sons, or Sons their Fathers, + Or how the _Roman_ Piles on either side + Drew _Roman_ blood, which spent, the Prince of weapons, + (The sword) succeeded, which in Civil wars + Appoints the Tent on which wing'd victory + Shall make a certain Stand; then, how the Plains + Flow'd o're with blood, and what a cloud of vulturs + And other birds of prey, hung o're both armies, + Attending when their ready Servitors, + (The Souldiers, from whom the angry gods + Had took all sense of reason, and of pity) + Would serve in their own carkasses for a feast, + How _Cæsar_ with his Javelin force'd them on + That made the least stop, when their angry hands + Were lifted up against some known friends face; + Then coming to the body of the army + He shews the sacred _Senate_, and forbids them + To wast their force upon the Common Souldier, + Whom willingly, if e're he did know pity, + He would have spar'd. + + _Ptol._ The reason _Labienus_? + + _Lab._ Full well he knows, that in their blood he was + To pass to Empire, and that through their bowels + He must invade the Laws of _Rome_, and give + A period to the liberty of the world. + Then fell the _Lepidi_, and the bold _Corvini_, + The fam'd _Torquati_, _Scipio's_, and _Marcelli_, + (Names next to _Pompeys_, most renown'd on Earth) + The Nobles, and the Commons lay together, + And Pontique, Punique, and _Assyrian_ blood + Made up one crimson Lake: which _Pompey_ seeing, + And that his, and the fate of _Rome_ had left him + Standing upon the Rampier of his Camp, + Though scorning all that could fall on himself, + He pities them whose fortunes are embarqu'd + In his unlucky quarrel; cryes aloud too + That they should sound retreat, and save themselves: + That he desir'd not, so much noble blood + Should be lost in his service, or attend + On his misfortunes: and then, taking horse + With some few of his friends, he came to _Lesbos_, + And with _Cornelia_, his Wife, and Sons, + He's touch'd upon your shore: the King of _Parthia_, + (Famous in his defeature of the _Crassi_) + Offer'd him his protection, but _Pompey_ + Relying on his Benefits, and your Faith, + Hath chosen _Ægypt_ for his Sanctuary, + Till he may recollect his scattered powers, + And try a second day: now _Ptolomy_, + Though he appear not like that glorious thing + That three times rode in triumph, and gave laws + To conquer'd Nations, and made Crowns his gift + (As this of yours, your noble Father took + From his victorious hand, and you still wear it + At his devotion) to do you more honour + In his declin'd estate, as the straightst Pine + In a full grove of his yet flourishing friends, + He flyes to you for succour, and expects + The entertainment of your Fathers friend, + And Guardian to your self. + + _Ptol._ To say I grieve his fortune + As much as if the Crown I wear (his gift) + Were ravish'd from me, is a holy truth, + Our Gods can witness for me: yet, being young, + And not a free disposer of my self; + Let not a few hours, borrowed for advice, + Beget suspicion of unthankfulness, + (Which next to Hell I hate) pray you retire, + And take a little rest, and let his wounds + Be with that care attended, as they were + Carv'd on my flesh: good _Labienus_, think + The little respite, I desire shall be + Wholly emploi'd to find the readiest way + To doe great _Pompey_ service. + + _Lab._ May the gods + (As you intend) protect you. [_Exit._ + + _Ptol._ Sit: sit all, + It is my pleasure: your advice, and freely. + + _Ach._ A short deliberation in this, + May serve to give you counsel: to be honest, + Religious and thankfull, in themselves + Are forcible motives, and can need no flourish + Or gloss in the perswader; your kept faith, + (Though _Pompey_ never rise to th' height he's fallen from) + _Cæsar_ himself will love; and my opinion + Is (still committing it to graver censure) + You pay the debt you owe him, with the hazard + Of all you can call yours. + + _Ptol._ What's yours, (_Photinus_?) + + _Pho._ _Achoreus_ (great _Ptolomy_) hath counsell'd + Like a Religious, and honest man, + Worthy the honour that he justly holds + In being Priest to _Isis_: But alas, + What in a man, sequester'd from the world, + Or in a private person, is prefer'd, + No policy allows of in a King, + To be or just, or thankfull, makes Kings guilty, + And faith (though prais'd) is punish'd that supports + Such as good Fate forsakes: joyn with the gods, + Observe the man they favour, leave the wretched, + The Stars are not more distant from the Earth + Than profit is from honesty; all the power, + Prerogative, and greatness of a Prince + Is lost, if he descend once but to steer + His course, as what's right, guides him: let him leave + The Scepter, that strives only to be good, + Since Kingdomes are maintain'd by force and blood. + + _Ach._ Oh wicked! + + _Ptol._ Peace: goe on. + + _Pho._ Proud Pompey shews how much he scorns your youth, + In thinking that you cannot keep your own + From such as are or'e come. If you are tired + With being a King, let not a stranger take + What nearer pledges challenge: resign rather + The government of _Egypt_ and of _Nile_ + To _Cleopatra_, that has title to them, + At least defend them from the Roman _gripe_, + What was not _Pompeys_, while the wars endured, + The Conquerour will not challenge; by all the world + Forsaken and despis'd, your gentle Guardian + His hopes and fortunes desperate, makes choice of + What Nation he shall fall with: and pursu'd + By their pale ghosts, slain in this Civil war, + He flyes not _Cæsar_ only, but the Senate, + Of which, the greater part have cloi'd the hunger + Of sharp _Pharsalian_ fowl, he flies the Nations + That he drew to his Quarrel, whose Estates + Are sunk in his: and in no place receiv'd, + Hath found out _Egypt_, by him yet not ruin'd: + And _Ptolomy_, things consider'd, justly may + Complain of _Pompey_: wherefore should he stain + Our _Egypt_, with the spots of civil war? + Or make the peaceable, or quiet _Nile_ + Doubted of _Cæsar_? wherefore should he draw + His loss, and overthrow upon our heads? + Or choose this place to suffer in? already + We have offended _Cæsar_, in our wishes, + And no way left us to redeem his favour + But by the head of _Pompey_. + + _Ach._ Great _Osiris_, + Defend thy _Ægypt_ from such cruelty, + And barbarous ingratitude! + + _Pho._ Holy trifles, + And not to have place in designs of State; + This sword, which Fate commands me to unsheath, + I would not draw on _Pompey_, if not vanquish'd. + I grant it rather should have pass'd through _Cæsar_, + But we must follow where his fortune leads us; + All provident Princes measure their intents + According to their power, and so dispose them: + And thinkst thou (_Ptolomy_) that thou canst prop + His Ruines, under whom sad _Rome_ now suffers? + Or 'tempt the Conquerours force when 'tis confirm'd? + Shall we, that in the Battail sate as Neuters + Serve him that's overcome? No, no, he's lost. + And though 'tis noble to a sinking friend + To lend a helping hand, while there is hope + He may recover, thy part not engag'd + Though one most dear, when all his hopes are dead, + To drown him, set thy foot upon his head. + + _Ach._ Most execrable Counsel. + + _Pho._ To be follow'd, + 'Tis for the Kingdoms safety. + + _Ptol._ We give up + Our absolute power to thee: dispose of it + As reason shall direct thee. + + _Pho._ Good _Achillas_, + Seek out _Septimius_: do you but sooth him, + He is already wrought: leave the dispatch + To me of _Labienus_: 'tis determin'd + Already how you shall proceed: nor Fate + Shall alter it, since now the dye is cast, + But that this hour to _Pompey_ is his last. [_Exit._ + + + +SCENA II. + + + _Enter_ Apollodorus, Eros, Arsino. + + _Apol._ Is the Queen stirring, _Eros_? + + _Eros._ Yes, for in truth + She touch'd no bed to night. + + _Apol._ I am sorry for it, + And wish it were in me, with my hazard, + To give her ease. + + _Ars._ Sir, she accepts your will, + And does acknowledge she hath found you noble, + So far, as if restraint of liberty + Could give admission to a thought of mirth, + She is your debtor for it. + + _Apol._ Did you tell her + Of the sports I have prepar'd to entertain her? + She was us'd to take delight, with her fair hand, + To angle in the _Nile_, where the glad fish + (As if they knew who 'twas sought to deceive 'em) + Contended to be taken: other times + To strike the Stag, who wounded by her arrows, + Forgot his tears in death, and kneeling thanks her + To his last gasp, then prouder of his Fate, + Than if with Garlands Crown'd, he had been chosen + To fall a Sacrifice before the altar + Of the Virgin Huntress: the King, nor great _Photinus_ + Forbid her any pleasure; and the Circuit + In which she is confin'd, gladly affords + Variety of pastimes, which I would + Encrease with my best service. + + _Eros._ O, but the thought + That she that was born free, and to dispense + Restraint, or liberty to others, should be + At the devotion of her Brother, whom + She only knows her equal, makes this place + In which she lives (though stor'd with all delights) + A loathsome dungeon to her. + + _Apol._ Yet, (howe're + She shall interpret it) I'le not be wanting + To do my best to serve her: I have prepar'd + Choise Musick near her Cabinet, and compos'd + Some few lines, (set unto a solemn time) + In the praise of imprisonment. Begin Boy. + +THE SONG. + + _Look out bright eyes, and bless the air:_ + _Even in shadows you are fair._ + _Shut-up-beauty is like fire,_ + _That breaks out clearer still and higher._ + _Though your body be confin'd,_ + _And soft Love a prisoner bound,_ + _Yet the beauty of your mind_ + _Neither check, nor chain hath found._ + _Look out nobly then, and dare_ + _Even the Fetters that you wear._ + + _Enter_ Cleopatra. + + _Cleo._ But that we are assur'd this tastes of duty, + And love in you, my _Guardian_, and desire + In you, my _Sister_, and the rest, to please us, + We should receive this, as a sawcy rudeness + Offer'd our private thoughts. But your intents + Are to delight us: alas, you wash an _Ethiop_: + Can _Cleopatra_, while she does remember + Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O + I suffer in the name) and that (in Justice) + There is no place in _Ægypt_, where I stand, + But that the tributary Earth is proud + To kiss the foot of her, that is her Queen, + Can she, I say, that is all this, e're relish + Of comfort, or delight, while base _Photinus_, + Bond-man _Achillas_, and all other monsters + That raign o're _Ptolomy_, make that a Court, + Where they reside, and this, where I, a Prison? + But there's a _Rome_, a _Senate_, and a _Cæsar_, + (Though the great _Pompey_ lean to _Ptolomy_) + May think of _Cleopatra_. + + _Ap._ _Pompey_, Madam? + + _Cleo._ What of him? speak: if ill, _Apollodorus_, + It is my happiness: and for thy news + Receive a favour (_Kings_ have kneel'd in vain for) + And kiss my hand. + + _Ap._ He's lost. + + _Cleo._ Speak it again! + + _Ap._ His army routed: he fled and pursu'd + By the all-conquering Cæsar. + + _Cleo._ Whither bends he? + + _Ap._ To _Egypt_. + + _Cleo._ Ha! in person? + + _Ap._ 'Tis receiv'd + For an undoubted truth. + + _Cleo._ I live again, + And if assurance of my love, and beauty + Deceive me not, I now shall find a Judge + To do me right: but how to free my self, + And get access? the _Guards_ are strong upon me, + This door I must pass through. _Apollodorus_, + Thou often hast profess'd (to do me service,) + Thy life was not thine own. + + _Ap._ I am not alter'd; + And let your excellency propound a means, + In which I may but give the least assistance, + That may restore you, to that you were born to, + (Though it call on the anger of the King, + Or, (what's more deadly) all his Minion + _Photinus_ can do to me) I, unmov'd, + Offer my throat to serve you: ever provided, + It bear some probable shew to be effected. + To lose my self upon no ground, were madness, + Not loyal duty. + + _Cleo._ Stand off: to thee alone, + I will discover what I dare not trust + My Sister with, _Cæsar_ is amorous, + And taken more with the title of a Queen, + Than feature or proportion, he lov'd _Eunoe_, + A _Moor_, deformed too, I have heard, that brought + No other object to inflame his blood, + But that her Husband was a King, on both + He did bestow rich presents; shall I then, + That with a princely birth, bring beauty with me, + That know to prize my self at mine own rate, + Despair his favour? art thou mine? + + _Ap._ I am. + + _Cleo._ I have found out a way shall bring me to him, + Spight of _Photinus_ watches; if I prosper, + (As I am confident I shall) expect + Things greater than thy wishes; though I purchase + His grace with loss of my virginity, + It skills not, if it bring home Majesty. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_ACTUS SECUNDUS. SCENA PRIMA._ + + _Enter_ Septimius, _with a head_, Achillas, _Guard._ + + _Sep._ 'Tis here, 'tis done, behold you fearfull viewers, + Shake, and behold the model of the world here, + The pride, and strength, look, look again, 'tis finish'd; + That, that whole Armies, nay whole nations, + Many and mighty Kings, have been struck blind at, + And fled before, wing'd with their fears and terrours, + That steel war waited on, and fortune courted, + That high plum'd honour built up for her own; + Behold that mightiness, behold that fierceness, + Behold that child of war, with all his glories; + By this poor hand made breathless, here (my _Achillas_) + _Egypt_, and _Cæsar_, owe me for this service, + And all the conquer'd Nations. + + _Ach._ Peace _Septimius_, + Thy words sound more ungratefull than thy actions, + Though sometimes safety seek an instrument + Of thy unworthy nature, thou (loud boaster) + Think not she is bound to love him too, that's barbarous. + Why did not I, if this be meritorious, + And binds the King unto me, and his bounties, + Strike this rude stroke? I'le tell thee (thou poor _Roman_) + It was a sacred head, I durst not heave at, + Not heave a thought. + + _Sep._ It was. + + _Ach._ I'le tell thee truely, + And if thou ever yet heard'st tell of honour, + I'le make thee blush: It was thy General's; + That mans that fed thee once, that mans that bred thee, + The air thou breath'dst was his; the fire that warm'd thee, + From his care kindled ever, nay, I'le show thee, + (Because I'le make thee sensible of the business, + And why a noble man durst not touch at it) + There was no piece of Earth, thou putst thy foot on + But was his conquest; and he gave thee motion. + He triumph'd three times, who durst touch his person? + The very walls of _Rome_ bow'd to his presence, + Dear to the Gods he was, to them that fear'd him + A fair and noble Enemy. Didst thou hate him? + And for thy love to _Cæsar_, sought his ruine? + Arm'd in the red _Pharsalian_ fields, _Septimius_, + Where killing was in grace, and wounds were glorious, + Where Kings were fair competitours for honour, + Thou shouldst have come up to him, there have fought him, + There, Sword to Sword. + + _Sep._ I kill'd him on commandment, + If Kings commands be fair, when you all fainted, + When none of you durst look-- + + _Ach._ On deeds so barbarous, + What hast thou got? + + _Sep._ The Kings love, and his bounty, + The honour of the service, which though you rail at, + Or a thousand envious souls fling their foams on me, + Will dignifie the cause, and make me glorious: + And I shall live. + + _Ach._ A miserable villain, + What reputation, and reward belongs to it + Thus (with the head) I seize on, and make mine; + And be not impudent to ask me why, Sirrah, + Nor bold to stay, read in mine eyes the reason: + The shame and obloquy I leave thine own, + Inherit those rewards, they are fitter for thee, + Your oyl's spent, and your snuff stinks: go out basely. + + [_Exit._ + + _Sep._ The King will yet consider. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus. + + _Achil._ Here he comes Sir. + + _Ach._ Yet if it be undone: hear me great Sir, + If this inhumane stroak be yet unstrucken, + If that adored head be not yet sever'd + From the most noble Body, weigh the miseries, + The desolations that this great Eclipse works, + You are young, be provident: fix not your Empire + Upon the Tomb of him will shake all _Egypt_, + Whose warlike groans will raise ten thousand Spirits, + (Great as himself) in every hand a thunder; + Destructions darting from their looks, and sorrows + That easy womens eyes shall never empty. + + _Pho._ You have done well; and 'tis done, see _Achillas_, + And in his hand the head. + + _Ptol._ Stay come no nearer, + Me thinks I feel the very earth shake under me, + I do remember him, he was my guardian, + Appointed by the Senate to preserve me: + What a full Majesty sits in his face yet? + + _Pho._ The King is troubled: be not frighted Sir, + Be not abus'd with fears; his death was necessary, + If you consider, Sir, most necessary, + Not to be miss'd: and humbly thank great _Isis_, + He came so opportunely to your hands; + Pity must now give place to rules of safety. + Is not victorious _Cæsar_ new arriv'd, + And enter'd _Alexandria_, with his friends, + His _Navy_ riding by to wait his charges? + Did he not beat this _Pompey_, and pursu'd him? + Was not this great man, his great enemy? + This Godlike vertuous man, as people held him, + But what fool dare be friend to flying vertue? + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Anthony, Dolabella, Sceva. + + I hear their Trumpets, 'tis too late to stagger, + Give me the head, and be you confident: + Hail Conquerour, and head of all the world, + Now this head's off. + + _Cæsar_. Ha? + + _Pho._ Do not shun me, _Cæsar_, + From kingly _Ptolomy_ I bring this present, + The Crown, and sweat of thy _Pharsalian_ labour: + The goal and mark of high ambitious honour. + Before thy victory had no name, _Cæsar_, + Thy travel and thy loss of blood, no recompence, + Thou dreamst of being worthy, and of war; + And all thy furious conflicts were but slumbers, + Here they take life: here they inherit honour, + Grow fixt, and shoot up everlasting triumphs: + Take it, and look upon thy humble servant, + With noble eyes look on the Princely _Ptolomy_, + That offers with this head (most mighty _Cæsar_) + What thou would'st once have given for it, all _Egypt_. + + _Ach._ Nor do not question it (most royal Conquerour) + Nor dis-esteem the benefit that meets thee, + Because 'tis easily got, it comes the safer: + Yet let me tell thee (most imperious _Cæsar_) + Though he oppos'd no strength of Swords to win this, + Nor labour'd through no showres of darts, and lances: + Yet here he found a fort, that faced him strongly, + An inward war: he was his Grand-sires Guest; + Friend to his Father, and when he was expell'd + And beaten from this Kingdom by strong hand, + And had none left him, to restore his honour, + No hope to find a friend, in such a misery; + Then in stept _Pompey_; took his feeble fortune: + Strengthen'd, and cherish'd it, and set it right again, + This was a love to _Cæsar_. + + _Sceva._ Give me, hate, Gods. + + _Pho._ This _Cæsar_ may account a little wicked, + But yet remember, if thine own hands, Conquerour, + Had fallen upon him, what it had been then? + If thine own sword had touch'd his throat, what that way! + He was thy Son in Law, there to be tainted, + Had been most terrible: let the worst be render'd, + We have deserv'd for keeping thy hands innocent. + + _Cæsar._ Oh _Sceva, Sceva_, see that head: see Captains, + The head of godlike _Pompey_. + + _Sceva._ He was basely ruin'd, + But let the Gods be griev'd that suffer'd it, + And be you Cæsar-- + + _Cæsar._ Oh thou Conquerour, + Thou glory of the world once, now the pity: + Thou awe of Nations, wherefore didst thou fall thus? + What poor fate follow'd thee, and pluckt thee on + To trust thy sacred life to an _Egyptian_; + The life and light of _Rome_, to a blind stranger, + That honorable war ne'r taught a nobleness, + Nor worthy circumstance shew'd what a man was, + That never heard thy name sung, but in banquets; + And loose lascivious pleasures? to a Boy, + That had no faith to comprehend thy greatness, + No study of thy life to know thy goodness; + And leave thy Nation, nay, thy noble friend, + Leave him (distrusted) that in tears falls with thee? + (In soft relenting tears) hear me (great _Pompey_) + (If thy great spirit can hear) I must task thee: + Thou hast most unnobly rob'd me of my victory, + My love, and mercy. + + _Ant._ O how brave these tears shew! + How excellent is sorrow in an Enemy! + + _Dol._ Glory appears not greater than this goodness. + + _Cæsar._ _Egyptians_, dare you think your high _Pyramides_, + Built to out-dare the Sun, as you suppose, + Where your unworthy Kings lye rak'd in ashes, + Are monuments fit for him? no, (brood of _Nilus_) + Nothing can cover his high fame, but Heaven; + No _Pyramides_ set off his memories, + But the eternal substance of his greatness + To which I leave him: take the head away, + And (with the body) give it noble burial, + Your Earth shall now be bless'd to hold a _Roman_, + Whose braverys all the worlds-Earth cannot ballance. + + _Sce._ If thou bee'st thus loving, I shall honour thee, + But great men may dissemble, 'tis held possible, + And be right glad of what they seem to weep for, + There are such kind of Philosophers; now do I wonder + How he would look if _Pompey_ were alive again, + But how he would set his face? + + _Cæsar._ You look now, King, + And you that have been Agents in this glory, + For our especial favour? + + _Ptol._ We desire it. + + _Cæsar._ And doubtless you expect rewards. + + _Sceva_. Let me give 'em: + I'le give 'em such as nature never dreamt of, + I'le beat him and his Agents (in a morter) + Into one man, and that one man I'le bake then. + + _Cæsar_. Peace: I forgive you all, that's recompence: + You are young, and ignorant, that pleads your pardon, + And fear it may be more than hate provok'd ye, + Your Ministers, I must think, wanted judgment, + And so they err'd: I am bountiful to think this; + Believe me most bountiful; be you most thankful, + That bounty share amongst ye: if I knew + What to send you for a present, King of _Egypt_, + (I mean a head of equal reputation + And that you lov'd) though it were your brightest Sisters, + (But her you hate) I would not be behind ye. + + _Ptol._ Hear me, (Great _Cæsar_.) + + _Cæs._ I have heard too much, + And study not with smooth shews to invade + My noble Mind as you have done my Conquest. + Ye are poor and open: I must tell ye roundly, + That Man that could not recompence the Benefits, + The great and bounteous services of _Pompey_, + Can never dote upon the Name of _Cæsar_; + Though I had hated _Pompey_, and allow'd his ruine, + [I gave you no commission to performe it:] + Hasty to please in Blood are seldome trusty; + And but I stand inviron'd with my Victories, + My Fortune never failing to befriend me, + My noble strengths, and friends about my Person, + I durst not try ye, nor expect: a Courtesie, + Above the pious love you shew'd to _Pompey_. + You have found me merciful in arguing with you; + Swords, Hangmen, Fires, Destructions of all natures, + Demolishments of Kingdoms, and whole Ruines + Are wont to be my Orators; turn to tears, + You wretched and poor seeds of Sun-burnt _Egypt_, + And now you have found the nature of a Conquerour, + That you cannot decline with all your flatteries, + That where the day gives light will be himself still, + Know how to meet his Worth with humane Courtesies, + Go, and embalm those bones of that great Souldier; + Howl round about his Pile, fling on your Spices, + Make a _Sabæan_ Bed, and place this Phoenix + Where the hot Sun may emulate his Vertues, + And draw another _Pompey_ from his ashes + Divinely great, and fix him 'mongst the Worthies. + + _Ptol._ We will do all. + + _Cæs._ You have rob'd him of those tears + His Kindred and his Friends kept sacred for him; + The Virgins of their Funeral Lamentations: + And that kind Earth that thought to cover him, + (His Countries Earth) will cry out 'gainst your Cruelty, + And weep unto the Ocean for revenge, + Till _Nilus_ raise his seven heads and devour ye; + My grief has stopt the rest: when _Pompey_ liv'd + He us'd you nobly, now he is dead use him so. [_Exit._ + + _Ptol._ Now, where's your confidence? your aim (_Photinus_) + The Oracles, and fair Favours from the Conquerour + You rung into mine Ears? how stand I now? + You see the tempest of his stern displeasure, + The death of him you urged a Sacrifice + To stop his Rage, presaging a full ruine; + Where are your Counsels now? + + _Acho._ I told you, Sir, + (And told the truth) what danger would flye after; + And though an Enemy, I satisfied you + He was a _Roman_, and the top of Honour; + And howsoever this might please Great _Cæsar_, + I told ye that the foulness of his Death, + The impious baseness-- + + _Pho._ Peace, you are a Fool, + Men of deep ends must tread as deep ways to 'em; + _Cæsar_ I know is pleas'd, and for all his sorrows + (Which are put on for forms and meer dissemblings) + I am confident he's glad; to have told ye so, + And thank ye outwardly, had been too open, + And taken from the Wisedom of a Conquerour. + Be confident and proud ye have done this service; + Ye have deserv'd, and ye will find it highly: + Make bold use of this benefit, and be sure + You keep your Sister, (the high-soul'd Cleopatra) + Both close and short enough, she may not see him; + The rest, if I may counsel, Sir-- + + _Ptol._ Do all; + For in thy faithful service rests my safety. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENE II. + + _Enter_ Septimius. + + _Sept._ Here's a strange alteration in the Court; + Mens Faces are of other setts and motions, + Their minds of subtler stuff; I pass by now + As though I were a Rascal, no man knows me, + No Eye looks after; as I were a Plague + Their doors shut close against me; and I wondred at + Because I have done a meritorious Murther; + Because I have pleas'd the Time, does the Time plague me? + I have known the day they would have hug'd me for it, + For a less stroke than this have done me Reverence; + Open'd their Hearts and secret Closets to me, + Their Purses, and their Pleasures, and bid me wallow. + I now perceive the great Thieves eat the less, + And the huge Leviathans of Villany + Sup up the merits, nay the men and all + That do them service, and spowt 'em out again + Into the air, as thin and unregarded + As drops of Water that are lost i'th' Ocean: + I was lov'd once for swearing, and for drinking, + And for other principal Qualities that became me, + Now a foolish unthankful Murther has undone me, + If my Lord _Photinus_ be not merciful + + _Enter_ Photinus. + + That set me on; And he comes, now Fortune. + + _Pho._ Cæsars unthankfulness a little stirs me, + A little frets my bloud; take heed, proud _Roman_, + Provoke me not, stir not mine anger farther; + I may find out a way unto thy life too, + (Though arm'd in all thy Victories) and seize it. + A Conquerour has a heart, and I may hit it. + + _Sept_. May it please your Lordship? + + _Pho._ O _Septimius_! + + _Sept._ Your [Lordship] knows my wrongs. + + _Pho._ Wrongs? + + _Sept._ Yes, my Lord, + How the Captain of the Guard, _Achillas_, slights me. + + _Pho._ Think better of him, he has much befriended thee, + Shew'd thee much love in taking the head from thee. + The times are alter'd (Souldier) _Cæsar's_ angry, + And our design to please him lost and perish'd; + Be glad thou art unnam'd, 'tis not worth the owning; + Yet, that thou maist be useful-- + + _Sept._ Yes, my Lord, + I shall be ready. + + _Pho._ For I may employ thee + To take a rub or two out of my way, + As time shall serve, say that it be a Brother? + Or a hard Father? + + _Sept._ 'Tis most necessary, + A Mother, or a Sister, or whom you please, Sir. + + _Pho._ Or to betray a noble Friend? + + _Sept._ 'Tis all one. + + _Pho._ I know thou wilt stir for Gold. + + _Sept._ 'Tis all my motion. + + _Pho._ There, take that for thy service, and farewel; + I have greater business now. + + _Sept._ I am still your own, Sir. + + _Pho._ One thing I charge thee, see me no more, _Septimius_, + Unless I send. [_Exit._ + + _Sept._ I shall observe your hour. + So, this brings something in the mouth, some savour; + This is the Lord I serve, the Power I worship, + My Friends, Allies, and here lies my Allegiance. + Let People talk as they please of my rudeness, + And shun me for my deed; bring but this to 'em, + (Let me be damn'd for blood) yet still I am honourable, + This God creates new tongues, and new affections; + And though I had kill'd my Father, give me Gold + I'll make men swear I have done a pious Sacrifice; + Now I will out-brave all; make all my Servants, + And my brave deed shall be writ in Wine, for vertuous. [_Exit._ + + + +SCENE III. + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva. + + _Cæs._ Keep strong Guards, and with wary eyes (my friends) + There is no trusting to these base _Egyptians_; + They that are false to pious benefits, + And make compell'd necessities their faiths + Are Traitors to the gods. + + _Ant._ We'll call ashore + A Legion of the best. + + _Cæs._ Not a Man, _Antony_, + That were to shew our fears, and dim our greatness: + No, 'tis enough my Name's ashore. + + _Sce._ Too much too, + A sleeping _Cæsar_ is enough to shake them; + There are some two or three malicious Rascals + Train'd up in Villany, besides that _Cerberus_ + That _Roman_ Dog, that lick'd the blood of _Pompey_. + + _Dol._ 'Tis strange, a _Roman_ Souldier? + + _Sce._ You are cozen'd, + There be of us as be of all other Nations, + Villains, and Knaves; 'tis not the name contains him, + But the obedience; when that's once forgotten, + And Duty flung away, then welcome Devil. + _Photinus_ and _Achillas_, and this Vermine + That's now become a natural Crocodile + Must be with care observ'd. + + _Ant._ And 'tis well counsel'd + No Confidence, nor trust-- + + _Sce._ I'll trust the Sea first, + When with her hollow murmurs she invites me, + And clutches in her storms, as politick Lions + Conceal their Claws; I'll trust the Devil first. + + _Cæs._ Go to your rests, and follow your own Wisedoms, + And leave me to my thoughts: pray no more complement, + Once more strong Watches. + + _Dol._ All shall be observ'd, Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Cæs._ I am dull and heavy, yet I cannot sleep, + How happy was I in my lawful Wars, + In _Germany_, and _Gaul_, and _Britanny_ + When every night with pleasure I set down + What the day ministred! The sleep came sweetly: + But since I undertook this home-division, + This civil War, and past the _Rubicon_; + What have I done that speaks an ancient _Roman_? + A good, great man? I have enter'd _Rome_ by force, + And on her tender Womb (that gave me life) + Let my insulting Souldiers rudely trample, + The dear Veins of my Country I have open'd, + And sail'd upon the torrents that flow'd from her, + The bloody streams that in their confluence + Carried before 'em thousand desolations; + I rob'd the Treasury, and at one gripe + Snatch'd all the wealth, so many worthy triumphs + Plac'd there as sacred to the Peace of _Rome_; + I raz'd _Massilia_, in my wanton anger: + _Petreius_ and _Afranius_ I defeated: + _Pompey_ I overthrew: what did that get me? + The slubber'd Name of an authoriz'd Enemy. [_Noise within._ + I hear some Noise; they are the Watches sure. + What Friends have I ty'd fast by these ambitions? + _Cato_, the Lover of his Countries freedom, + Is now past into _Africk_ to affront me, + _Fuba_ (that kill'd my friend) is up in Arms too; + The Sons of _Pompey_ are Masters of the Sea, + And from the reliques of their scatter'd faction, + A new head's sprung; Say I defeat all these too; + I come home crown'd an honourable Rebel. + I hear the Noise still, and it still comes nearer; + Are the Guards fast? Who waits there? + + _Enter_ Sceva _with a Packet_, Cleopatra _in it._ + + _Sce._ Are ye awake Sir? + + _Cæs._ I'th' name of Wonder. + + _Sce._ Nay, I am a Porter, + A strong one too, or else my sides would crack, Sir, + And my sins were as weighty, I should scarce walk with 'em. + + _Cæs._ What hast thou there? + + _Sce._ Ask them which stay without, + And brought it hither, your Presence I deny'd 'em, + And put 'em by; took up the load my self, + They say 'tis rich, and valu'd at the Kingdome, + I am sure 'tis heavy; if you like to see it + You may: if not, I'll give it back. + + _Cæs._ Stay _Sceva_, + I would fain see it. + + _Sce._ I'll begin to work then; + No doubt, to flatter ye they have sent ye something, + Of a rich value, Jewels, or some rich Treasure; + May be a Rogue within to do a mischief; + I pray you stand farther off, if there be villany, + Better my danger first; he shall 'scape hard too, + Ha! what art thou? + + _Cæs._ Stand farther off, good _Sceva_, + What heavenly Vision! do I wake or slumber? + Farther off that hand, Friend. + + _Sce._ What Apparition? + What Spirit have I rais'd? sure 'tis a Woman, + She looks like one; now she begins to move too: + A tempting Devil, o' my life; go off, _Cæsar_, + Bless thy self, off: a Bawd grown in mine old days? + Bawdry advanc'd upon my back? 'tis noble: + Sir, if you be a Souldier come no nearer, + She is sent to dispossess you of your honour, + A Spunge, a Spunge to wipe away your Victories: + And she would be cool'd, Sir, let the Souldiers trim her! + They'll give her that she came for, and dispatch her; + Be loyal to your self. Thou damned Woman, + Dost thou come hither with thy flourishes, + Thy flaunts, and faces to abuse mens manners? + And am I made the instrument of Bawdry? + I'll find a Lover for ye, one that shall hug ye. + + _Cæs._ Hold, on thy life, and be more temperate, + Thou Beast. + + _Sce._ Thou Beast? + + _Cæs._ Could'st thou be so inhumane, + So far from noble Men, to draw thy Weapon + Upon a thing divine? + + _Sce._ Divine, or humane, + They are never better pleas'd, nor more at hearts ease, + Than when we draw with full intent upon 'em. + + _Cæs._ Move this way (Lady) + 'Pray ye let me speak to ye. + + _Sce._ And Woman, you had best stand. + + _Cæs._ By the gods, + But that I see her here, and hope her mortal, + I should imagine some celestial sweetness, + The treasure of soft love. + + _Sce._ Oh, this sounds mangily, + Poorly, and scurvily in a Souldiers mouth: + You had best be troubled with the Tooth-ach too, + For Lovers ever are, and let your Nose drop + That your celestial Beauty may befriend ye; + At these years do you learn to be fantastical? + After so many bloody fields, a Fool? + She brings her Bed along too, she'll lose no time, + Carries her Litter to lye soft, do you see that? + Invites ye like a Gamester: note that impudence, + For shame reflect upon your self, your honour, + Look back into your noble parts, and blush: + Let not the dear sweat of the hot _Pharsalia_, + Mingle with base _Embraces_; am I he + That have receiv'd so many wounds for _Cæsar_? + Upon my Target groves of darts still growing? + Have I endur'd all hungers, colds, distresses, + And (as I had been bred that Iron that arm'd me) + Stood out all weathers, now to curse my fortune? + To ban the blood I lost for such a General? + + _Cæsar_. Offend no more: be gone. + + _Sce._ I will, and leave ye, + Leave ye to womens wars, that will proclaim ye: + You'l conquer _Rome_ now, and the Capitol + With Fans, and Looking-glasses, farewel Cæsar. + + _Cleo._ Now I am private Sir, I dare speak to ye: + But thus low first, for as a God I honour ye. + + _Sce._ Lower you'l be anon. + + _Cæsar_. Away. + + _Sce._ And privater, + For that you covet all. [_Exit._ + + _Cæsar_. Tempt me no farther. + + _Cleo._ Contemn me not, because I kneel thus, _Cæsar_, + I am a Queen, and coheir to this country, + The Sister to the mighty _Ptolomy_, + Yet one distress'd, that flyes unto thy justice, + One that layes sacred hold on thy protection + As on an holy Altar, to preserve me. + + _Cæsar_. Speak Queen of beauty, and stand up. + + _Cleo._ I dare not, + 'Till I have found that favour in thine eyes, + That godlike great humanity to help me, + Thus, to thy knees must I grow (sacred _Cæsar_,) + And if it be not in thy will, to right me, + And raise me like a Queen from my sad ruines, + If these soft tears cannot sink to thy pity, + And waken with their murmurs thy compassions; + Yet for thy nobleness, for vertues sake, + And if thou beest a man, for despis'd beauty, + For honourable conquest, which thou doat'st on, + Let not those cankers of this flourishing Kingdom, + _Photinus_, and _Achillas_, (the one an Eunuch, + The other a base bondman) thus raign over me. + Seize my inheritance, and leave my Brother + Nothing of what he should be, but the Title, + As thou art wonder of the world. + + _Cæsar_. Stand up then + And be a Queen, this hand shall give it to ye, + Or choose a greater name, worthy my bounty: + A common love makes Queens: choose to be worshipped, + To be divinely great, and I dare promise it; + A suitor of your sort, and blessed sweetness, + That hath adventur'd thus to see great _Cæsar_, + Must never be denied, you have found a patron + That dare not in his private honour suffer + So great a blemish to the Heaven of beauty: + The God of love would clap his angry wings, + And from his singing bow let flye those arrows + Headed with burning griefs, and pining sorrows, + Should I neglect your cause, would make me monstrous, + To whom and to your service I devote me. + + _Enter_ Sceva. + + _Cleo._ He is my conquest now, and so I'le work him, + The conquerour of the world will I lead captive. + + _Sce._ Still with this woman? tilting still with Babies? + As you are honest think the Enemy, + Some valiant Foe indeed now charging on ye: + Ready to break your ranks, and fling these-- + + _Cæsar_. Hear me, + But tell me true, if thou hadst such a treasure, + (And as thou art a Souldier, do not flatter me) + Such a bright gem, brought to thee, wouldst thou not + Most greedily accept? + + _Sce._ Not as an Emperour, + A man that first should rule himself, then others; + As a poor hungry Souldier, I might bite, Sir, + Yet that's a weakness too: hear me, thou Tempter: + And hear thou _Cæsar_ too, for it concerns thee, + And if thy flesh be deaf, yet let thine honour, + The soul of a commander, give ear to me, + Thou wanton bane of war, thou guilded Lethargy, + In whose embraces, ease (the rust of Arms) + And pleasure, (that makes Souldiers poor) inhabites. + + _Cæsar_. Fye, thou blasphem'st. + + _Sce._ I do, when she is a goddess. + Thou melter of strong minds, dar'st thou presume + To smother all his triumphs, with thy vanities, + And tye him like a slave, to thy proud beauties? + To thy imperious looks? that Kings have follow'd + Proud of their chains? have waited on? I shame Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Cæsar_. Alas thou art rather mad: take thy rest _Sceva_, + Thy duty makes thee erre, but I forgive thee: + Go, go I say, shew me no disobedience: + 'Tis well, farewel, the day will break dear Lady, + My Souldiers will come in; please you retire, + And think upon your servant. + + _Cleo._ Pray you Sir, know me, + And what I am. + + _Cæsar_. The greater, I more love ye, + And you must know me too. + + _Cleo._ So far as modesty, + And majesty gives leave Sir, ye are too violent. + + _Cæsar_. You are too cold to my desires. + + _Cleo._ Swear to me, + And by your self (for I hold that oath sacred) + You will right me as a Queen-- + + _Cæsar_. These lips be witness, + And if I break that oath-- + + _Cleo._ You make me blush Sir, + And in that blush interpret me. + + _Cæsar_. I will do, + Come let's go in, and blush again: this one word, + You shall believe. + + _Cleo._ I must, you are a conquerour. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +ACTUS TERTIUS. SCENA PRIMA. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Photinus. + + _Pho._ Good Sir, but hear. + + _Ptol._ No more, you have undone me, + That, that I hourly fear'd, is fain upon me, + And heavily, and deadly. + + _Pho._ Hear a remedy. + + _Ptol._ A remedy now the disease is ulcerous? + And has infected all? your secure negligence + Has broke through all the hopes I have, and ruin'd me: + My Sister is with _Cæsar_, in his chamber, + All night she has been with him; and no doubt + Much to her honour. + + _Pho._ Would that were the worst, Sir, + That will repair it self: but I fear mainly, + She has made her peace with _Cæsar_. + + _Ptol._ 'Tis most likely, + And what am I then? + + _Pho._ 'Plague upon that Rascal + _Apollod[or]us_, under whose command, + Under whose eye-- + + _Enter_ Achillas. + + _Ptol._ Curse on you all, ye are wretches. + + _Pho._ 'Twas providently done, _Achillas_. + + _Achil._ Pardon me. + + _Pho._ Your guards were rarely wise, and wondrous watchfull. + + _Achil._ I could not help it, if my life had lain for't, + Alas, who would suspect a pack of bedding, + Or a small Truss of houshold furniture? + And as they said, for Cæsars use: or who durst + (Being for his private chamber) seek to stop it? + I was abus'd. + + _Enter_ Achoreus. + + _Ach._ 'Tis no hour now for anger: + No wisdom to debate with fruitless choler, + Let us consider timely what we must do, + Since she is flown to his protection, + From whom we have no power to sever her, + Nor force conditions-- + + _Ptol._ Speak (good _Achoreus_) + + _Ach._ Let indirect and crooked counsels vanish, + And straight, and fair directions-- + + _Pho._ Speak your mind Sir. + + _Ach._ Let us choose _Cæsar_, (and endear him to us,) + An Arbitrator in all differences + Betwixt you, and your Sister; this is safe now: + And will shew off, most honourable. + + _Pho._ Base, + Most base and poor; a servile, cold submission: + Hear me, and pluck your hearts up, like stout Counsellours, + Since we are sensible this _Cæsar_ loathes us, + And have begun our fortune with great Pompey, + Be of my mind. + + _Ach._ 'Tis most uncomely spoken, + And if I say most bloodily, I lye not: + The law of hospitality it poysons, + And calls the Gods in question that dwell in us, + Be wise O King. + + _Ptol._ I will be: go my counsellour, + To _Cæsar_ go, and do my humble service: + To my fair Sister my commends negotiate, + And here I ratifie what e're thou treat'st on. + + _Ach._ Crown'd with fair peace, I go. [_Exit._ + + _Ptol._ My love go with thee, + And from my love go you, you cruel vipers: + You shall know now I am no ward, _Photinus_. [_Exit._ + + _Pho._ This for our service? + Princes do their pleasures, + And they that serve obey in all disgraces: + The lowest we can fall to, is our graves, + There we shall know no diffrence: heark _Achillas_, + I may do something yet, when times are ripe, + To tell this raw unthankful! King. + + _Achil._ _Photinus_, + What e're it be I shall make one: and zealously: + For better dye attempting something nobly, + Than fall disgraced. + + _Pho._ Thou lov'st me and I thank thee. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Antony, Dolabella, Sceva. + + _Dol._ Nay there's no rowsing him: he is bewitch'd sure, + His noble blood curdled, and cold within him; + Grown now a womans warriour. + + _Sce._ And a tall one: + Studies her fortifications, and her breaches, + And how he may advance his ram to batter + The Bullwork of her chastitie. + + _Ant._ Be not too angry, + For by this light, the woman's a rare woman, + A Lady of that catching youth, and beauty, + That unmatch'd sweetness-- + + _Dol._ But why should he be fool'd so? + Let her be what she will, why should his wisdom, + His age, and honour-- + + _Ant._ Say it were your own case, + Or mine, or any mans, that has heat in him: + 'Tis true at this time when he has no promise + Of more security than his sword can cut through, + I do not hold it so discreet: but a good face, Gentlemen, + And eyes that are the winningst Orators: + A youth that opens like perpetual spring, + And to all these, a tongue that can deliver + The Oracles of Love-- + + _Sce._ I would you had her, + With all her Oracles, and Miracles, + She were fitter for your turn. + + _Ant._ Would I had, _Sceva_, + With all her faults too: let me alone to mend 'em, + O'that condition I made thee mine heir. + + _Sce._ I had rather have your black horse, than your harlots. + + _Dol._ _Cæsar_ writes _Sonnetts_ now, the sound of war + Is grown too boystrous for his mouth: he sighs too. + + _Sce._ And learns to fiddle most melodiously, + And sings, 'twould make your ears prick up, to hear him Gent. + Shortly she'l make him spin: and 'tis thought + He will prove an admirable maker of Bonelace, + And what a rare gift will that be in a General! + + _Ant._ I would he could abstain. + + _Sce._ She is a witch sure, + And works upon him with some damn'd inchantment. + + _Dol._ How cunning she will carry her behaviours, + And set her countenance in a thousand postures, + To catch her ends! + + _Sce._ She will be sick, well, sullen, + Merry, coy, over-joy'd, and seem to dye + All in one half hour, to make an asse of him: + I make no doubt she will be drunk too damnably, + And in her drink will fight, then she fits him. + + _Ant._ That thou shouldst bring her in! + + _Sce._ 'Twas my blind fortune, + My Souldiers told me, by the weight 'twas wicked: + Would I had carried _Milo's_ Bull a furlong, + When I brought in this Cow-Calf: he has advanced me + From an old Souldier, to a bawd of memory: + O, that the Sons of _Pompey_ were behind him, + The honour'd _Cato_, and fierce _Juba_ with 'em, + That they might whip him from his whore, and rowze him: + That their fierce Trumpets, from his wanton trances, + Might shake him like an Earth-quake. + + _Enter_ Septimius. + + _Ant._ What's this fellow? + + _Dol._ Why, a brave fellow, if we judge men by their clothes. + + _Ant._ By my faith he is brave indeed: he's no commander? + + _Sce._ Yes, he has a _Roman_ face, he has been at fair wars + And plenteous too, and rich, his Trappings shew it. + + _Sep._ And they will not know me now, they'l never know me. + Who dare blush now at my acquaintance? ha? + Am I not totally a span-new Gallant, + Fit for the choycest eyes? have I not gold? + The friendship of the world? if they shun me now + (Though I were the arrantest rogue, as I am well forward) + Mine own curse, and the Devils too light on me. + + _Ant._ Is't not _Septimius_? + + _Sce._ Yes. + + _Dol._ He that kill'd _Pompey_? + + _Sce._ The same Dog, Scab; that guilded botch, that rascal. + + _Dol._ How glorious villany appears in _Egypt_! + + _Sep._ Gallants, and Souldiers, sure they do admire me. + + _Sce._ Stand further off, thou stinkest. + + _Sep._ A likely matter: + These Cloaths smell mustily, do they not, Gallants? + They stink, they stink, alas poor things, contemptible. + By all the Gods in _Egypt_, the perfumes + That went to trimming these cloathes, cost me-- + + _Sce._ Thou stinkest still. + + _Sep._ The powdering of this head too-- + + _Sce._ If thou hast it, + I'le tell thee all the Gumms in sweet _Arabia_ + Are not sufficient, were they burnt about thee, + To purge the scent of a rank Rascal from thee. + + _Ant._ I smell him now: fie, how the Knave perfumes him, + How strong he scents of Traitor! + + _Dol._ You had an ill Millener, + He laid too much of the Gum of Ingratitude + Upon your Coat, you should have washt off that Sir, + Fie, how it choaks! too little of your loyaltie, + Your honesty, your faith, that are pure Ambers; + I smell the rotten smell of a hired Coward, + A dead Dog is sweeter. + + _Sep._ Ye are merry Gentlemen, + And by my troth, such harmless mirth takes me too, + You speak like good blunt Souldiers; and 'tis well enough: + But did you live at Court, as I do, Gallants, + You would refine, and learn an apter language; + I have done ye simple service on your _Pompey_, + You might have lookt him yet this brace of twelve months + And hunted after him, like foundred Beagles, + Had not this fortunate hand-- + + _Ant._ He brags on't too: + By the good Gods, rejoyces in't; thou wretch + Thou most contemptible Slave. + + _Sce._ Dog, mangy Mongrel, + Thou murdring mischief, in the shape of Souldier + To make all Souldiers hatefull; thou disease + That nothing but the Gallows can give ease to.-- + + _Dol._ Thou art so impudent, that I admire thee, + And know not what to say. + + _Sep._ I know your anger + And why you prate thus: I have found your melancholy: + Ye all want mony, and you are liberal Captains, + And in this want will talk a little desperately: + Here's gold, come share; I love a brave Commander: + And be not peevish, do as _Cæsar_ does: + He's merry with his wench now, be you jovial, + And let's all laugh and drink: would he have partners? + I do consider all your wants, and weigh 'em, + He has the Mistris, you shall have the maids, + I'le bring 'em to ye, to your arms. + + _Ant._ I blush, + All over me, I blush, and sweat to hear him: + Upon my conscience, if my arms were on now + Through them I should blush too: pray ye let's be walking. + + _Sce._ Yes, yes: but e're we goe, I'le leave this lesson, + And let him study it: first Rogue, then Pander, + Next Devil that will be; get thee from mens presence, + And where the name of Souldier has been heard of + Be sure thou live not: to some hungry desert + Where thou canst meet with nothing but thy conscience, + And that in all the shapes of all thy vill[anie]s + Attend thee still, where bruit Beasts will abhor thee, + And even the Sun will shame to give thee light, + Goe hide thy head: or if thou think'st it fitter + Goe hang thy self. + + _Dol._ Hark to that clause. + + _Sce._ And that speedily, + That nature may be eas'd of such a Monster. [_Exit._ + + _Sep._ Yet all this moves not me: nor reflects on me: + I keep my gold still, and my confidence, + Their want of breeding makes these fellows murmur, + Rude valors, so I let 'em pass; rude honours: + There is a wench yet, that I know, affects me + And company for a King: a young plump villain, + That when she sees this gold, she'l leap upon me. + + _Enter_ Eros. + + And here she comes: I am sure of her at midnight, + My pretty _Eros_ welcom. + + _Eros_. I have business. + + _Sep._ Above my love, thou canst not. + + _Eros_. Yes indeed Sir, + Far, far above. + + _Sep._ Why, why so coy? 'pray ye tell me + We are alone. + + _Eros_. I am much asham'd we are so. + + _Sep._ You want a new Gown now, & a handsom Petticoat, + A Skarf, and some odd toyes: I have gold here ready, + Thou shal[t] have any thing. + + _Eros_. I want your absence: + Keep on your way, I care not for your company. + + _Sep._ How? how? you are very short: do you know me _Eros_? + And what I have been to ye? + + _Eros_. Yes I know ye: + And I hope I shall forget ye: Whilst you were honest + I lov'd ye too. + + _Sep._ Honest? come prethee kiss me. + + _Eros_. I kiss no knaves, no Murderers, no Beasts, + No base betrayers of those men that fed 'em, + I hate their looks; and though I may be wanton, + I scorn to nourish it with bloody purchase, + Purchase so foully got; I pray ye unhand me + I had rather touch the plague, than one unworthy: + Goe seek some Mistris that a horse may marry, + And keep her company, she is too good for ye. [_Exit._ + + _Sep._ Marry this goes near; now I perceive I am hatefull, + When this light stuff can distinguish, it grows dangerous, + For mony, seldom they refuse a Leper: + But sure I am more odious, more diseas'd too: + + _Enter three lame_ Souldiers. + + It sits cold here; what are these? three poor Souldiers? + Both poor and lame: their misery may make 'em + A little look upon me, and adore me, + If these will keep me company, I am made yet. + + _1 Sol._ The pleasure _Cæsar_ sleeps in, makes us miserable, + We are forgot, our maims and dangers laugh'd at; + He Banquets, and we beg. + + _2 Sol._ He was not wont + To let poor Souldiers that have spent their Fortunes, + Their Bloods, and limbs, walk up and down like vagabonds. + + _Sep._ Save ye good Souldiers: good poor men, heaven help ye: + You have born the brunt of war, and shew the story, + + _1 Sol._ Some new commander sure. + + _Sep._ You look (my good friends) + By your thin faces, as you would be Suitors. + + _2 Sol._ To _Cæsar_, for our means, Sir. + + _Sep._ And 'tis fit Sir. + + _3 Sol._ We are poor men, and long forgot. + + _Sep._ I grieve for it: + Good Souldiers should have good rewards, and favours, + I'le give up your petitions, for I pity ye, + And freely speak to _Cæsar_. + + _All_. O we honour ye. + + _1 Sol._ A good man sure ye are: the Gods preserve ye. + + _Sep._ And to relieve your wants the while, hold Soldiers, + Nay 'tis no dream: 'tis good gold: take it freely, + 'Twill keep ye in good heart. + + _2 Sol._ Now goodness quit ye. + + _Sep._ I'le be a friend to your afflictions, + And eat, and drink with ye too, and we'l be merry: + And every day I'le see ye. + + _1 Sol._ You are a Souldier, + And one sent from the Gods, I think. + + _Sep._ I'le cloth ye, + Ye are lame, and then provide good lodging for ye: + And at my Table, where no want shall meet ye. + + _Enter_ Sceva. + + _All_. Was never such a man. + + _1 Sold._ Dear honour'd Sir, + Let us but know your name, that we may worship ye. + + _2 Sold._ That we may ever thank. + + _Sep._ Why, call me any thing, + No matter for my name, that may betray me. + + _Sce._ A cunning thief, call him _Septimius_, Souldiers, + The villain that kill'd _Pompey_. + + _All_. How? + + _Sce._ Call him the shame of men. [_Exit._ + + _1 Sold._ O that this mony + Were weight enough to break thy brains out: fling all: + And fling our curses next: let them be mortal, + Out bloody wolf, dost thou come guilded over, + And painted with thy charitie, to poyson us? + + _2 Sold._ I know him now: may never Father own thee, + But as a monstrous birth shun thy base memory: + And if thou hadst a Mother (as I cannot + Believe thou wert a natural Burden) let her womb + Be curs'd of women for a bed of vipers. + + _3 Sol._ Me thinks the ground shakes to devour this rascal, + And the kind air turns into foggs and vapours, + Infectious mists, to crown his villanies. + Thou maist go wander, like a thing heaven hated. + + _1 Sold._ And valiant minds hold poysonous to remember. + The Hangman will not keep thee company, + He has an honourable house to thine, + No, not a thief though thou couldst save his life for't + Will eat thy bread, nor one, for thirst starv'd, drink with thee. + + _2 Sol._ Thou art no company for an honest dog, + And so we'l leave thee to a ditch (thy destiny.) [_Exeunt._ + + _Sep._ Contemn'd of all? and kickt too? now I find it; + My valour's fled too, with mine honesty, + For since I would be knave I must be Coward: + This 'tis to be a Traitor, and betrayer. + What a deformity dwells round about me! + How monstrous shews that man, that is ungratefull! + I am afraid the very beasts will tear me, + Inspir'd with what I have done: the winds will blast me: + Now I am paid, and my reward dwells in me, + The wages of my fact, my soul's opprest; + Honest and noble minds, you find most rest. [_Exit._ + + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus, Achillas. + + _Ptol._ I have commanded, and it shall be so, + A preparation I have set o' foot, + Worthy the friendship and the fame of _Cæsar_, + My Sisters favours shall seem poor and wither'd: + Nay she her self, (trim'd up in all her beautys) + Compar'd to what I'le take his eyes withall, + Shall be a dream. + + _Pho._ Do you mean to shew the glory, + And wealth of _Egypt_? + + _Ptol._ Yes: and in that lustre, + _Rome_ shall appear in all her famous Conquests, + And all her riches of no note unto it. + + _Ach._ Now you are reconcil'd to your fair Sister, + Take heed Sir, how you step into a danger: + A danger of this precipice: but note Sir, + For what _Rome_ ever rais'd her mighty armies; + First for ambition, then for wealth: 'tis madness, + Nay more, a secure impotence, to tempt + An armed Guest: feed not an eye, that conquers, + Nor teach a fortunate sword the way to be covetous. + + _Ptol._ Ye judge amiss, and far too wide to alter me, + Yet all be ready, as I gave direction: + The secret way of all our wealth appearing + Newly, and handsomely: and all about it: + No more disswading: 'tis my will. + + _Ach._ I grieve for't. + + _Ptol._ I will dazel _Cæsar_, with excess of glory. + + _Pho._ I fear you'l curse your will, we must obey ye. [_Exit._ + + + +SCENA IV. + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva, _above._ + + _Cæsar_. I wonder at the glory of this Kingdom, + And the most bounteous preparation, + Still as I pass, they court me with. + + _Sceva_. I'le tell ye: + In _Gaul_, and _Germany_, we saw such visions, + And stood not to admire 'em, but possess 'em: + When they are ours, they are worth our admiration. + + _Enter_ Cleopatra. + + _Ant._ The young Queen comes: give room. + + _Cæsar_. Welcom (my dearest) + Come bless my side. + + _Sceva_. I marry: here's a wonder, + As she appears now, I am no true Souldier, + If I be not readie to recant. + + _Cleo._ Be merry Sir, + My Brother will be proud to do you honour + That now appears himself. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Achillas, Photinus, Apollodorus. + + _Pto._ Haile to great _Cæsar_ + My Royal Guest, first I will feast thine eyes + With wealthy _Ægypts_ store, and then thy palate, + And wait my self upon thee. [_Treasure brought in._ + + _Cæsar_. What rich Service! + What mines of treasure! + + _Cleo._ My _Cæsar_, + What do you admire? pray ye turn, and let me talk to ye. + Have ye forgot me Sir? how, a new object? + Am I grown old o'th' sudden, _Cæsar_? + + _Cæsar_. Tell me + From whence comes all this wealth? + + _Cleo._ Is your eye that way? + And all my Beauties banisht? + + _Ptol._ I'le tell thee _Cæsar_, + We owe for all this wealth to the old _Nilus_: + We need no dropping rain to cheer the husband-man, + Nor Merchant that ploughs up the Sea, to seek us; + Within the wealthy womb of reverent _Nilus_, + All this is nourish'd: who to do thee honour, + Comes to discover his seven Deities, + (His conceal'd heads) unto thee: see with pleasure. + + _Cæsar_. The matchless wealth of this Land! + + _Cleo._ Come, ye shall hear me. + + _Cæsar_. Away: let me imagine. + + _Cleo._ How? frown on me? + The eyes of _Cæsar_ wrapt in storms? + + _Cæsar_. I am sorry: + But let me think-- + +_MUSTEK, SONG._ + + _Enter_ Isis, _and three Labourers._ + + _Isis, the Goddess of this Land,_ + _Bids thee (great Cæsar) understand_ + _And mark our Customes, and first know,_ + _With greedy eyes these watch the flow_ + _Of plenteous Nilus: when he comes,_ + _With Songs, with Daunces, Timbrels, Drums_ + _They entertain him, cut his way,_ + _And give his proud Heads leave to play:_ + _Nilus himself shall rise, and show_ + _His matchless wealth in Over-flow._ + +_LABOURERS SONG._ + + _Come let us help the reverend Nile,_ + _He's very old (alas the while)_ + _Let us dig him easie wayes,_ + _And prepare a thousand Playes:_ + _To delight his streams let's sing_ + _A loud welcom to our Spring._ + _This way let his curling Heads_ + _Fall into our new made Beds._ + _This way let his wanton spawns,_ + _Frisky and glide it o're the Lawns._ + _This way profit comes, and gain:_ + _How he tumbles here amain!_ + _How his waters haste to fall_ + _Into our Channels! Labour all_ + _And let him in: Let Nilus flow,_ + _And perpetuall plenty show._ + _With Incense let us bless the brim,_ + _And as the wanton fishes swim,_ + _Let us Gums, and Garlands fling,_ + _And loud our Timbrels ring._ + _Come (old Father) come away,_ + _Our labour is our holy day._ + + Isis. _Here comes the aged River now_ + _With Garlands of great Pearl, his Brow_ + _Begirt and rounded: In his Flow_ + _All things take life; and all things grow._ + _A thousand wealthy Treasures still,_ + _To do him service at his will_ + _Follow his rising Flood, and pour_ + _Perpetuall blessings in our store._ + _Hear him: and next there will advance,_ + _His sacred Heads to tread a Dance,_ + _In honour of my Royal Guest,_ + _Mark them too: and you have a Feast._ + + _Cleo._ A little dross betray me? + + _Cæsar_. I am asham'd I warr'd at home, (my friends) + When such wealth may be got abroad: what honour? + Nay everlasting glory had _Rome_ purchas'd, + Had she a just cause but to visit _Ægypt_? + +_NILUS_ SONG, _AND DANCE._ + + _Make room for my rich waters fall, and bless my Flood,_ + _Nilus comes flowing, to you all encrease and good._ + _Now the Plants and Flowers shall spring,_ + _And the merry Plough-man sing_ + _In my bidden waves I bring_ + _Bread, and wine, and every thing._ + _Let the Damsells sing me in:_ + _Sing aloud that I may rise:_ + _Your holy Feasts and hours begin,_ + _And each hand bring a Sacrifice._ + _Now my wanton Pearls I show_ + _That to Ladies fair necks grow._ + _Now my gold_ + _And treasures that can ne're be told,_ + _Shall bless this Land, by my rich Flow,_ + _And after this, to crown your Eyes,_ + _My hidden holy head arise._ + + _Cæsar_. The wonder of this wealth so troubles me, + I am not well: good-night. + + _Sce._ I am glad ye have it: + Now we shall stir again. + + _Ptol._ Thou wealth, still haunt him. + + _Sce._ A greedy spirit set thee on: we are happy. + + _Ptol._ Lights: lights for _Cæsar_, and attendance. + + _Cleo._ Well, + I shall yet find a time to tell thee _Cæsar_, + Thou hast wrong'd her Love: the rest here. + + _Ptol._ Lights along still: + Musick, and Sacrifice to sleep for _Cæsar_. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_ACTUS QUARTUS. SCENA PRIMA._ + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Photinus, Achillas, Achoreus. + + _Ach._ I told ye carefully, what this would prove to, + What this inestimable wealth and glory + Would draw upon ye: I advis'd your Majesty + Never to tempt a Conquering Guest: nor add + A bait, to catch a mind, bent by his Trade + To make the whole world his. + + _Pho._ I was not heard Sir: + Or what I said, lost, and contemn'd: I dare say, + (And freshly now) 'twas a poor weakness in ye, + A glorious Childishness: I watch'd his eye, + And saw how Faulcon-like it towr'd, and flew + Upon the wealthy Quarry: how round it mark'd it: + I observ'd his words, and to what it tended; + How greedily he ask'd from whence it came, + And what Commerce we held for such abundance: + The shew of _Nilus_, how he laboured at + To find the secret wayes the Song delivered. + + _Ach._ He never smil'd, I noted, at the pleasures, + But fixt his constant eyes upon the treasure; + I do not think his ears had so much leisure + After the wealth appear'd, to hear the Musique? + Most sure he has not slept since, his mind's troubled + With objects that would make their own still labour. + + _Pho._ Your Sister he ne're gaz'd on: that's a main note, + The prime beauty of the world had no power over him. + + _Ach._ Where was his mind the whilst? + + _Pho._ Where was your carefulness + To shew an armed thief the way to rob ye? + Nay, would you give him this, 'twill excite him + To seek the rest. Ambition feels no gift, + Nor knows no bounds, indeed ye have done most weakly. + + _Ptol._ Can I be too kind to my noble friend? + + _Pho._ To be unkind unto your noble self, but savours + Of indiscretion, and your friend has found it. + Had ye been train'd up in the wants and miseries + A souldier marches through, and known his temperance + In offer'd courtesies, you would have made + A wiser Master of your own, and stronger. + + _Ptol._ Why, should I give him all, he would return it: + 'Tis more to him, to make Kings. + + _Pho._ Pray be wiser, + And trust not with your lost wealth, your lov'd liberty. + To be a King still at your own discretion + Is like a King; to be at his, a vassail. + Now take good counsel, or no more take to ye + The freedom of a Prince. + + _Achil._ 'Twill be too late else: + For, since the Masque, he sent three of his Captains + (Ambitious as himself) to view again + The glory of your wealth. + + _Pho._ The next himself comes, + Not staying for your courtesie, and takes it. + + _Ptol._ What counsel, my _Achoreus_? + + _Ach._ I'le goe pray Sir, + (For that is best counsel now) the gods may help ye. [_Ex._ + + _Pho._ I found ye out a way but 'twas not credited, + A most secure way: whither will ye flye now? + + _Achil._ For when your wealth is gone, your power must follow. + + _Pho._ And that diminisht also, what's your life worth? + Who would regard it? + + _Ptol._ You say true. + + _Achil._ What eye + Will look upon King _Ptolomy_? if they do look, + It must be in scorn: + For a poor King is a monster; + What ear remember ye? 'twill be then a courtesie + (A noble one) to take your life too from ye: + But if reserv'd, you stand to fill a victory, + As who knows Conquerours minds? though outwardly + They bear fair streams. + O Sir, does this not shake ye? + If to be honyed on to these afflictions-- + + _Ptol._ I never will: I was a Fool. + + _Pho._ For then Sir + Your Countreys cause falls with ye too, and fetter'd: + All _Ægypt_ shall be plough'd up with dishonour. + + _Ptol._ No more: I am sensible: and now my spirit + Burns hot within me. + + _Achil._ Keep it warm and fiery. + + _Pho._ And last be counsel'd. + + _Ptol._ I will, though I perish. + + _Pho._ Goe in; we'l tell you all: and then we'l execute. + + [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Cleopatra, Arsino, Eros. + + _Ars._ You are so impatient. + + _Cleo._ Have I not cause? + Women of common Beauties, and low Births, + When they are slighted, are allow'd their angers, + Why should not I (a Princess) make him know + The baseness of his usage? + + _Ars._ Yes: 'tis fit: + But then again you know what man. + + _Cleo._ He is no man: + The shadow of a Greatness hangs upon him, + And not the vertue: he is no Conquerour, + H'as suffer'd under the base dross of Nature: + Poorly delivered up his power to wealth, + (The god of bed-rid men) taught his eyes treason + Against the truth of love: he has rais'd rebellion: + Defi'd his holy flames. + + _Eros._ He will fall back again, + And satisfie your Grace. + + _Cleo._ Had I been old, + Or blasted in my bud, he might have shew'd + Some shadow of dislike: But, to prefer + The lustre of a little art, _Arsino_, + And the poor glow-worm light of some faint Jewels, + Before the life of Love, and soul of Beauty, + Oh how it vexes me! he is no Souldier, + (All honourable Souldiers are Loves servants) + He is a Merchant; a meer wandring Merchant, + Servile to gain: he trades for poor Commodities, + And makes his Conquests, thefts; some fortunate Captains + That quarter with him, and are truly valiant, + Have flung the name of happy _Cæsar_ on him, + Himself ne're won it: he is so base and covetous, + He'l sell his sword for gold. + + _Ars._ This is too bitter. + + _Cleo._ Oh I could curse my self, that was so foolish, + So fondly childish to believe his tongue, + His promising tongue, e're I could catch his temper, + I had trash enough to have cloy'd his eyes withal, + His covetous eyes; such as I scorn to tread on: + Richer than e're he saw yet, and more tempting; + Had I known he had stoop'd at that, I had sav'd mine honour, + I had been happy still: but let him take it, + And let him brag how poorly I am rewarded: + Let him goe conquer still weak wretched Ladies: + Love has his angry Quiver too, his deadly, + And when he finds scorn, armed at the strongest: + I am a fool to fret thus, for a fool: + An old blind fool too: I lose my health? I will not: + I will not cry: I will not honour him + With tears diviner than the gods he worships: + I will not take the pains to curse a poor thing. + + _Eros_. Doe not: you shall not need. + + _Cleo._ Would I were prisoner + To one I hate, that I might anger him, + I will love any man, to break the heart of him: + Any, that has the heart and will to kill him. + + _Ars._ Take some fair truce. + + _Cleo._ I will goe study mischief, + And put a look on, arm'd with all my cunnings, + Shall meet him like a Basilisque, and strike him: + Love, put destroying flames into mine eyes, + Into my smiles, deceits, that I may torture him, + That I may make him love to death, and laugh at him. + + _Enter_ Apollodorus. + + _Ap._ _Cæsar_ commends his Service to your Grace. + + _Cleo._ His service? what's his service? + + _Eros_. Pray ye be patient, + The noble _Cæsar_ loves still. + + _Cleo._ What's his will? + + _Ap._ He craves access unto your Highness. + + _Cleo._ No: + Say no: I will have none to trouble me. + + _Ars._ Good Sister. + + _Cleo._ None I say: I will be private. + Would thou hadst flung me into _Nilus_, keeper, + When first thou gav'st consent, to bring my body + To this unthankfull _Cæsar_. + + _Ap._ 'Twas your will, Madam, + Nay more, your charge upon me, as I honoured ye: + You know what danger I endured. + + _Cleo._ Take this, + And carry it to that Lordly _Cæsar_ sent thee: + There's a new Love, a handsom one, a rich one: + One that will hug his mind: bid him make love to it: + Tell the ambitious Broker, this will suffer-- + + _Enter Cæsar._ + + _Ap._ He enters. + + _Cleo._ How? + + _Cæsar._ I do not use to wait, Lady, + Where I am, all the dores are free, and open. + + _Cleo._ I ghess so, by your rudeness. + + _Cæsar._ Ye are not angry? + Things of your tender mold, should be most gentle; + Why do you frown? good gods, what a set-anger + Have you forc'd into your face! Come, I must temper ye: + What a coy smile was there, and a disdainfull! + How like an ominous flash it broke out from ye! + Defend me, Love, Sweet, who has anger'd ye? + + _Cleo._ Shew him a glass; that false face has betrai'd me: + That base heart wrought me-- + + _Cæsar._ Be more sweetly angry; + I wrong'd ye fair? + + _Cleo._ Away with your foul flatteries: + They are too gross: but that I dare be angry, + And with as great a god as _Cæsar_ is, + To shew how poorly I respect his memory, + I would not speak to ye. + + _Cæsar._ Pray ye undoe this riddle, + And tell me how I have vext ye? + + _Cleo._ Let me think first + Whether I may put on a Patience + That will with honour suffer me: know, I hate ye, + Let that begin the story: Now I'le tell ye. + + _Cæsar._ But do it milder: In a noble Lady, + Softness of spirit, and a sober nature, + That moves like summer winds, cool, and blows sweetness; + Shews blessed like her self. + + _Cleo._ And that great blessedness + You first reap'd of me: till you taught my nature + Like a rude storm to talk aloud, and thunder, + Sleep was not gentler than my soul, and stiller; + You had the Spring of my affections: + And my fair fruits I gave you leave to taste of: + You must expect: the winter of mine anger: + You flung me off, before the Court disgrac'd me, + When in the pride I appear'd of all my beauty, + Appear'd your _Mistress_; took into your eyes + The common-strumpet love of hated lucre, + Courted with covetous heart, the slave of nature, + Gave all your thoughts to gold, that men of glory, + And minds adorn'd with noble love, would kick at: + Souldiers of royal mark, scorn such base purchase: + Beauty and honour are the marks they shoot at; + I spake to ye then; I courted ye, and woo'd ye: + Call'd ye dear _Cæsar_, hung about ye tenderly: + Was proud to appear your friend. + + _Cæsar._ You have mistaken me. + + _Cleo._ But neither Eye, nor Favour, not a Smile + Was I blessed back with; but shook off rudely, + And, as ye had been sold to sordid infamy, + You fell before the Images of treasure, + And in your soul you worship'd: I stood slighted, + Forgotten and contemn'd; my soft embraces, + And those sweet kisses you call'd Elyzium, + As letters writ in sand, no more remembred: + The name and glory of your _Cleopatra_ + Laugh'd at, and made a story to your Captains, + Shall I endure? + + _Cæsar_. You are deceiv'd in all this, + Upon my life you are, 'tis your much tenderness. + + _Cleo._ No, no, I love not that way; you are cozen'd: + I love with as much ambition as a Conquerour, + And where I love, will triumph. + + _Cæsar_. So you shall: + My heart shall be the Chariot that shall bear ye, + All I have won shall wait upon ye: By the gods + The bravery of this womans mind, has fired me: + Dear Mistress shall I but this night?-- + + _Cleo._ How _Cæsar_? + Have I let slip a second vanity + That gives thee hope? + + _Cæsar_. You shall be absolute, + And Reign alone as Queen: you shall be any thing. + + _Cleo._ Make me a maid again, and then I'le hear thee; + Examine all thy art of War, to do that; + And if thou find'st it possible, I'le love thee: + Till when, farewel, unthankfull. + + _Cæsar_. Stay. + + _Cleo._ I will not. + + _Cæsar_. I command. + + _Cleo._ Command, and goe without, Sir. + I do command thee be my slave for ever, + And vex while I laugh at thee. + + _Cæsar_. Thus low, beauty. + + _Cleo._ It is too late; when I have found thee absolute, + The man that Fame reports thee, and to me, + May be I shall think better. Farewel Conquerour. [_Exit._ + + _Cæsar_. She mocks me too: I will enjoy her Beauty: + I will not be deni'd; I'le force my longing. + Love is best pleas'd, when roundly we compel him, + And as he is Imperious, so will I be. + Stay fool, and be advis'd: that dulls the appetite, + Takes off the strength and sweetness of delight. + By Heaven she is a miracle, I must use + A handsom way to win: how now; what fear + Dwells in your faces? you look all distracted. + + _Enter_ Sceva, Anthony, Dolabella. + + _Sceva_. If it be fear, 'tis fear of your undoing, + Not of our selves: fear of your poor declining: + Our lives and deaths are equall benefits, + And we make louder prayers to dye nobly, + Than to live high, and wantonly: whilst you are secure here, + And offer Hecatombs of lazie kisses + To the lewd god of love, and cowardize, + And most lasci[v]iously dye in delights, + You are begirt with the fierce _Alexandrians_. + + _Dol._ The spawn of _Egypt_ flow about your Palace, + Arm'd all: and ready to assault. + + _Ant._ Led on + By the false and base _Photinus_ and his Ministers; + No stirring out; no peeping through a loop-hole, + But straight saluted with an armed Dart. + + _Sce._ No parley: they are deaf to all but danger, + They swear they will fley us, and then dry our Quarters: + A rasher of a salt lover, is such a Shooing-horn: + Can you kiss away this conspiracy, and set us free? + Or will the Giant god of love fight for ye? + Will his fierce war-like bow kill a Cock-sparrow? + Bring out the Lady, she can quel this mutiny: + And with her powerfull looks strike awe into them: + She can destroy, and build again the City, + Your Goddesses have mighty gifts: shew 'em her fair brests, + The impregnable Bulworks of proud Love, and let 'em + Begin their battery there: she will laugh at 'em; + They are not above a hundred thousand, Sir. + A mist, a mist, that when her Eyes break out, + Her powerfull radiant eyes, and shake their flashes, + Will flye before her heats. + + _Cæsar_. Begirt with Villains? + + _S[ce]._ They come to play you, and your Love a Huntsup. + You were told what this same whorson wenching, long agoe would + come to: + You are taken napping now: has not a Souldier, + A time to kiss his friend, and a time to consider, + But he must lye still digging, like a Pioneer, + Making of mines, and burying of his honour there? + 'Twere good you would think-- + + _Dol._ And time too, or you will find else + A harder task, than Courting a coy Beauty. + + _Ant._ Look out and then believe. + + _Sce._ No, no, hang danger: + Take me provoking broth, and then goe to her: + Goe to your Love, and let her feel your valour; + Charge her whole body, when the sword's in your throat (Sir,) + You may cry, _Cæsar_, and see if that will help ye. + + _Cæsar_. I'le be my self again, and meet their furies, + Meet, and consume their mischiefs: make some shift, _Sceva_, + To recover the Fleet, and bring me up two Legions, + And you shall see me, how I'le break like thunder + Amongst these beds of slimy Eeles, and scatter 'em. + + _Sce._ Now ye speak sense I'le put my life to the hazard, + Before I goe No more of this warm Lady, + She will spoil your sword-hand. + + _Cæsar_. Goe: come, let's to Counsel + How to prevent, and then to execute. + + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Souldiers. + + _1 Sold._ Did ye see this Penitence? + + _2 Sold._ Yes: I saw, and heard it. + + _3 Sold._ And I too: look'd upon him, and observ'd it, + He's the strangest _Septimus_ now-- + + _1 Sold._ I heard he was altered, + And had given away his Gold to honest uses: + Cry'd monstrously. + + _2 Sold._ He cryes abundantly: + He is blind almost with weeping. + + _3 Sold._ 'Tis most wonderfull + That a hard hearted man, and an old Souldier + Should have so much kind moisture: when his Mother dy'd + He laugh'd aloud, and made the wickedst Ballads-- + + _1 Sold._ 'Tis like enough: he never lov'd his parents; + Nor can I blame him, for they ne'r lov'd him. + His Mother dream'd before she was deliver'd + That she was brought abed with a Buzzard, and ever after + She whistl'd him up to th' world: his brave clothes too + He has flung away, and goes like one of us now: + Walks with his hands in's pockets, poor and sorrowfull, + And gives the best instructions.-- + + _2 Sold._ And tells stories + Of honest and good people that were honour'd + And how they were remembred: and runs mad + If he but hear of any ungratefull person, + A bloudy, or betraying man-- + + _3 Sold._ If it be possible + That an Arch-Villain may ever be recovered, + This penitent Rascal will put hard: 'twere worth our labour + To see him once again. + + _Enter_ Septimius. + + _1 Sold._ He spares us that labour, + For here he comes. + + _Sep._--Bless ye my honest friends, + Bless ye from base unworthy men; come not near me, + For I am yet too taking for your company. + + _1 Sold._ Did I not tell ye? + + _2 Sold._ What book's that? + + _1 Sold._ No doubt + Some excellent Salve for a sore heart: are you + _Septimius_, that base knave, that betray'd _Pompey_? + + _Sep._ I was, and am; unless your honest thoughts + Will look upon my penitence, and save me, + I must be ever Villain: O good Souldiers + You that have _Roman_ hearts, take heed of falsehood: + Take heed of blood; take heed of foul ingratitude. + The Gods have scarce a mercy for those mischiefs, + Take heed of pride, 'twas that that brought me to it. + + _2 Sol._ This fellow would make a rare speech at the gallows. + + _[3] Sol._ 'Tis very fit he were hang'd to edifie us: + + _Sep._ Let all your thoughts be humble, and obedient, + Love your Commanders, honour them that feed ye: + Pray, that ye may be strong in honesty + As in the use of arms; Labour, and diligently + To keep your hearts from ease, and her base issues, + Pride, and ambitious wantonness, those spoil'd me. + Rather lose all your limbs, than the least honesty, + You are never lame indeed, till loss of credit + Benumb ye through: Scarrs, and those maims of honour + Are memorable crutches, that shall bear + When you are dead, your noble names to Eternity. + + _1 Sol._ I cry. + + _2 Sol._ And so do I. + + _3 Sol._ An excellent villain. + + _1 Sol._ A more sweet pious knave I never heard yet. + + _2 Sol._ He was happie he was Rascal, to come to this. + + _Enter_ Achoreus. + + Who's this? a Priest? + + _Sep._ O stay, most holy Sir! + And by the Gods of _Egypt_, I conjure ye, + (_Isis_, and great _Osiris_) pity me, + Pity a loaden man, and tell me truly + With what most humble Sacrifice I may + Wash off my sin, and appease the powers that hate me? + Take from my heart those thousand thousand furies, + That restless gnaw upon my life, and save me. + _Orestes_ bloody hands fell on his Mother, + Yet, at the holy altar he was pardon'd. + + _Ach._ _Orestes_ out of madness did his murther, + And therefore he found grace: thou (worst of all men) + Out of cold blood, and hope of gain, base lucre, + Slew'st thine own Feeder: come not near the altar, + Nor with thy reeking hands pollute the Sacrifice, + Thou art markt for shame eternal. [_Exit._ + + _Sep._ Look all on me, + And let me be a story left to time + Of blood and Infamy, how base and ugly + Ingratitude appears, with all her profits, + How monstrous my hop'd grace, at Court! good souldiers + Let neither flattery, nor the witching sound + Of high and soft preferment, touch your goodness: + To be valiant, old, and honest, O what blessedness-- + + _1 Sold._ Dost thou want any thing? + + _Sep._ Nothing but your prayers. + + _2 Sol._ Be thus, and let the blind Priest do his worst, + We have gods as well as they, and they will hear us. + + _3 Sol._ Come, cry no more: thou hast wep't out twenty _Pompeys_. + + _Enter_ Photinus, Achillas. + + _Pho._ So penitent? + + _Achil._ It seems so. + + _Pho._ Yet for all this + We must employ him. + + _1 Sol._ These are the arm'd Souldier leaders: + Away: and let's toth' Fort, we shall be snapt else. [_Exeunt._ + + _Pho._ How now? why thus? what cause of this dejection? + + _Achil._ Why dost thou weep? + + _Sep._ Pray leave me, you have ruin'd me, + You have made me a famous Villain. + + _Pho._ Does that touch thee? + + _Achil._ He will be hard to win: he feels his lewdness. + + _Pho._ He must be won, or we shall want our right hand. + This fellow dares, and knows, and must be heartned. + Art thou so poor to blench at what thou hast done? + Is Conscience a comrade for an old Soldier? + + _Achil._ It is not that: it may be some disgrace + That he takes heavily; and would be cherish'd, + _Septimius_ ever scorn'd to shew such weakness. + + _Sep._ Let me alone; I am not for your purpose, + I am now a new man. + + _Pho._ We have new affairs for thee, + Those that would raise thy head. + + _Sep._ I would 'twere off, + And in your bellies for the love you bear me. + I'le be no more Knave: I have stings enough + Already in my breast. + + _Pho._ Thou shalt be noble: + And who dares think then that thou art not honest? + + _Achil._ Thou shalt command in Chief, all our strong Forces + And if thou serv'st an use, must not all justifie it? + + _S[e]p._ I am Rogue enough. + + _Pho._ Thou wilt be more, and baser: + A poor Rogue is all Rogues: open to all shames: + Nothing to shadow him: dost thou think crying + Can keep thee from the censure of the Multitude? + Or to be kneeling at the altar save thee? + 'Tis poor and servile: + Wert thou thine own Sacrifice + 'Twould seem so low, people would spit the fire out. + + _Achil._ Keep thy self glorious still, though ne're so stain'd, + And that will lessen it, if not work it out. + To goe complaining thus, and thus repenting + Like a poor Girl that had betrai'd her maide[n]-head-- + + _Sep._ I'le stop mine ears. + + _Achil._ Will shew so in a Souldier, + So simply, and so ridiculously, so tamely-- + + _Pho._ If people would believe thee, 'twere some honesty, + And for thy penitence would not laugh at thee + (As sure they will) and beat thee for thy poverty: + If they would allow thy foolery, there were some hope. + + _Sep._ My foolery? + + _Pho._ Nay, more than that, thy misery, + Thy monstrous misery. + + _A[c]hil._ He begins to hearken: + Thy misery so great, men will not bury thee. + + _Sep._ That this were true! + + _Pho._ Why does this conquering _Cæsar_ + Labour through the worlds deep Seas of toyls and troubles, + Dangers, and desperate hopes? to repent afterwards? + Why does he slaughter thousands in a Battel, + And whip his Country with the sword? to cry for't? + Thou killd'st great _Pompey_; he'l kill all his kindred, + And justifie it: nay raise up _Trophies_ to it. + When thou hear'st him repent, (he's held most holy too) + And cry for doing daily bloody murthers, + Take thou example, and go ask forgiveness, + Call up the thing thou nam'st thy conscience, + And let it work: then 'twill seem well _Septimius_. + + _Sep._ He does all this. + + _Achil._ Yes: and is honour'd for it; + Nay call'd the honour'd _Cæsar_, so maist thou be: + Thou wert born as near a Crown as he. + + _Sep._ He was poor. + + _Pho._ And desperate bloody tricks got him this credit. + + _Sep._ I am afraid you will once more-- + + _Pho._ Help to raise thee: + Off with thy pining black, it dulls a Souldier, + And put on resolution like a man, + A noble Fate waits on thee. + + _Sep._ I now feel + My self returning Rascal speedily. + O that I had the power-- + + _Achil._ Thou shalt have all: + And do all through thy power, men shall admire thee, + And the vices of _Septimius_ shall turn vertues. + + _Sep._ Off: off: thou must off: off my cowardize, + Puling repentance off. + + _Pho._ Now thou speakst nobly. + + _Sep._ Off my dejected looks: and welcom impudence: + My daring shall be Deity, to save me: + Give me instructions, and put action on me: + A glorious cause upon my swords point, Gentlemen, + And let my wit, and valour work: you will raise me, + And make me out-dare all my miseries? + + _Pho._ All this, and all thy wishes. + + _Sep._ Use me then, + Womanish fear farewell: I'le never melt more, + Lead on, to some great thing, to wake my spirit: + I cut the Cedar _Pompey_, and I'le fell + This huge Oak _Cæsar_ too. + + _Pho._ Now thou singst sweetly: + And _Ptolomy_ shall crown thee for thy service. + + _Achil._ He's well wrought: put him on apace for cooling. + [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_ACTUS QUINTUS. SCENA PRIMA._ + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella. + + _Ant._ The tumult still encreases. + + _Cæsar_. O my fortune! + My lustfull folly rather! but 'tis well, + And worthily I am made a bondsmans prey, + That after all my glorious victories, + In which I pass'd so many Seas of dangers, + When all the Elements conspir'd against me, + Would yield up the dominion of this head + To any mortal power: so blind and stupid, + To trust these base _Egyptians_, that proclaim'd + Their perjuries, in noble _Pompeys_ death, + And yet that could not warn me. + + _Dol._ Be still _Cæsar_, + Who ever lov'd to exercise his fate, + Where danger look't most dreadful. + + _Ant._ If you fall, + Fall not alone: let the King and his Sister + Be buried in your ruines: on my life + They both are guilty: reason may assure you + _Photinus_ nor _Achillas_ durst attempt you, + Or shake one Dart, or sword, aim'd at your safety, + Without their warrant. + + _Cæsar_. For the young King I know not + How he may be misled; but for his Sister + (Unequall'd _Cleopatra_) 'twere a kind + Of blasphemy to doubt her: ugly treason + Durst never dwell in such a glorious building, + Nor can so clear and great a spirit, as hers is, + Admit of falsehood. + + _Ant._ Let us seize on him then: + And leave her to her fortune. + + _Dol._ If he have power + Use it to your security, and let + His honesty acquit him: if he be false + It is too great an honour he should dye + By your victorious hand. + + _Cæsar_. He comes: and I + Shall do as I find cause. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus. + + _Ptol._ Let not great _Cæsar_ + Impute the breach of hospitality, + To you (my guest) to me; I am contemn'd, + And my rebellious subjects lift their hands + Against my head: and would they aim'd no farther, + Provided that I fell a sacrifice + To gain you safety: that this is not feign'd, + The boldness of my innocence may confirm you: + Had I been privy to their bloody plot, + I now had led them on, and given fair gloss + To their bad cause, by being present with them: + But I that yet taste of the punishment, + In being false to _Pompey_, will not make + A second fault to _Cæsar_ uncompel'd + With such as have not yet shook off obedience, + I yield my self to you, and will take part + In all your dangers. + + _Cæsar_. This pleads your excuse, + And I receive it. + + _Ach._ If they have any touch + Of justice, or religion, I will use + The authority of our Gods, to call them back + From their bad purpose. + + _Apo._ This part of the palace + Is yet defensible: we may make it good, + Till your powers rescue us. + + _Cæsar_. _Cæsar_ besieg'd? + O stain to my great actions: 'twas my custom, + An Army routed, as my feet had wings + To be first in the chase: nor walls, nor Bulworks + Could guard those that escap'd the Battels fury + From this strong Arm; and I to be enclos'd? + My heart! my heart! but 'tis necessity, + To which the Gods must yield, and I obey, + 'Till I redeem it by some glorious way. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Photinus, Achillas, Septimius, _Souldiers._ + + _Pho._ There's no retiring now, we are broke in: + The deed past hope of pardon: if we prosper + 'Twill be stil'd lawful!, and we shall give laws + To those that now command us: stop not at + Or loyalty, or duty: bold ambition, + To dare and power to do, gave the first difference + Between the King, and subject, _Cæsars Motto_, + _Aut Cæsar aut Nihil_, each of us must claim, + And use it as our own. + + _Achil._ The deed is bloody + If we conclude in _Ptolomies_ death. + + _Pho._ The better, + The globe of Empire must be so manur'd. + + _Sep._ _Rome_, that from _Romulus_ first took her name, + Had her walls water'd with a Crimson showr + Drain'd from a Brothers heart: nor was she rais'd + To this prodigious height, that overlooks + Three full parts of the Earth, that pay her tribute, + But by enlarging of her [n]arrow bounds + By the Sack of Neighbour Cities, not made hers + Till they were Cemented with the Blood of those + That did possess 'em: _Cæsar, Ptolomy_, + (Now I am steel'd) to me are empty names + Esteem'd as _Pompeys_ was. + + _Pho._ Well said _Septimius_, + Thou now art right again. + + _Achil._ But what course take we + For the Princess _Cleopatra_? + + _Pho._ Let her live + Awhile to make us sport: she shall authorize + Our undertakings to the ignorant people, + As if what we do were by her command: + But our _triumvirat_ Government once confirm'd, + She bears her Brother company, that's my Province: + Leave me to work her. + + _Achil._ I will undertake + For _Ptolomy_. + + _Sep._ _Cæsar_ shall be my task, + And as in _Pompey_ I began a name + I'le perfect it in _Cæsar_. + + _Enter (above)_ Cæsar, Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus, Antony, + Dolabella. + + _Pho._ 'Tis resolv'd then, + We'll force our passage. + + _Achil._ See, they do appear + As they desir'd a Parley. + + _Pho._ I am proud yet + I have brought 'em to capitulate. + + _Ptol._ Now, _Photinus_? + + _Pho._ Now, _Ptolomy_? + + _Ptol._ No addition? + + _Pho._ We are equal, + Though _Cæsars_ name were put into the scale, + In which our worth is weigh'd. + + _Cæs._ Presumptuous Villain, + Upon what grounds hast thou presum'd to raise + Thy servile hand against the King, or me, + That have a greater name? + + _Pho._ On those, by which + Thou didst presume to pass the _Rubicon_ + Against the Laws of _Rome_; and at the name + Of Traitor smile; as thou didst when _Marcellus_, + The Consul, with the _Senates_ full consent + Pronounc'd thee for an Enemy to thy Country, + Yet thou wentst on, and thy rebellious Cause + Was crown'd with fair success: Why should we fear then? + Think on that, _Cæsar_. + + _Cæs._ O the gods! be brav'd thus, + And be compell'd to bear this from a Slave + That would not brook Great _Pompey_ his Superiour? + + _Achil._ Thy glories now have toucht the highest point, + And must descend. + + _Pho._ Despair, and think we stand + The Champions of _Rome_, to wreak her wrongs, + Upon whose liberty thou hast set thy foot. + + _Sept._ And that the Ghosts of all those noble _Romans_ + That by thy Sword fell in this Civil War + Expect revenge. + + _Ant._ Dar'st thou speak, and remember + There was a _Pompey_? + + _Pho._ There is no hope to 'scape us: + If that against the odds we have upon you + You dare come forth, and fight, receive the honour + To dye like _Romans_, if ye faint, resolve + To starve like Wretches; I disdain to change + Another syllable with you. [_Exeunt._ + + _Ant._ Let us dye nobly; + And rather fall upon each others Sword + Than come into these Villains hands. + + _Cæs._ That Fortune, + Which to this hour hath been a Friend to _Cæsar_, + Though for a while she cloath her Brow with frowns, + Will smile again upon me: who will pay her, + Or sacrifice, or Vows, if she forsake + Her best of works in me? or suffer him, + Whom with a strong hand she hath led triumphant + Through the whole western world, and _Rome_ acknowledg'd + Her Soveraign Lord, to end in-gloriously + A life admir'd by all? The threatned danger + Must by a way more horrid be avoided, + And I will run the hazard; Fire the Palace, + And the rich Magazines that neighbour it, + In which the Wealth of _Egypt_ is contain'd: + Start not, it shall be so; that while the people + Labour in quenching the ensuing flames, + Like Cæsar, with this handful of my friends + Through Fire, and Swords I force a passage to + My conquering Legions. King, if thou dar'd follow + Where _Cæsar_ leads, or live or dye a Free-man; + If not, stay here a Bond-man to thy Slave, + And dead, be thought unworthy of a Grave. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENE III. + + _Enter_ Septimius. + + _Sept._ I feel my resolution melts again + And that I am not Knave alone, but fool, + In all my purposes. The Devil, _Photinus_, + Employs me as a Property, and grown useless + Will shake me off again; he told me so + When I kill'd _Pompey_; nor can I hope better, + When _Cæsar_ is dispatch'd; Services done + For such as only study their own ends, + Too great to be rewarded, are return'd + With deadly hate; I learn'd this Principle + In his own School, yet still he fools me, well; + And yet he trusts me: Since I in my nature + Was fashion'd to be false, wherefore should I + That kill'd my General, and a _Roman_, one + To whom I ow'd all nourishments of life, + Be true to an _Egyptian_? To save _Cæsar_, + And turn _Photinus's_ plots on his own head, + As it is in my power, redeem my credit, + And live to lye and swear again in fashion, + Oh, 'twere a master-piece! ha!--me _Cæsar_, + How's he got off? + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Ptolomy, Antony, Dolabella, Achoreus, + Apollodorus, _Souldiers._ + + _Cæs._ The fire has took, + And shews the City like a second _Troy_, + The Navy too is scorch'd, the people greedy + To save their Wealth and Houses, whilst their Souldiers + Make spoil of all; only _Achillas's_ Troops + Make good their Guard, break through them, we are safe; + I'll lead you like a Thunder-bolt. + + _Sept._ Stay, _Cæsar_. + + _Cæs._ Who's this? the Dog, _Septimius_? + + _Ant._ Cut his throat. + + _Dol._ You bark'd but now, fawn you so soon? + + _Sept._ O hear me, + What I'll deliver is for _Cæsars_ safety, + For all your good. + + _Ant._ Good from a mouth like thine, + That never belch'd but blasphemy, and treason on Festival days! + + _Sept._ I am an altered man, altered indeed, + And will give you cause to say I am a _Roman_. + + _Dol._ Rogue, I grant thee. + + _Sept._ Trust me, I'll make the passage smooth, and easie + For your escape. + + _Ant._ I'll trust the Devil sooner, + And make a safer Bargain. + + _Sept._ I am trusted + With all _Photinus's_ secrets. + + _Ant._ There's no doubt then + Thou wilt be false. + + _Sept._ Still to be true to you. + + _Dol._ And very likely. + + _Cæs._ Be brief, the means? + + _Sept._ Thus, _Cæsar_, + To me alone, but bound by terrible oaths + Not to discover it, he hath reveal'd + A dismal Vault, whose dreadful mouth does open + A mile beyond the City: in this Cave + Lye but two hours conceal'd. + + _Ant._ If you believe him, + He'll bury us alive. + + _Dol._ I'll flye in the Air first. + + _Sept._ Then in the dead of night I'll bring you back + Into a private room, where you shall find + _Photinus_, and _Achillas_, and the rest + Of their Commanders close at Council. + + _Cæs._ Good, what follows? + + _Sept._ Fall me fairly on their throats, + Their heads cut off and shorn, the multitude + Will easily disperse. + + _Cæs._ O Devil! away with him; + Nor true to Friend nor Enemy? _Cæsar_ scorns + To find his safety, or revenge his wrongs + So base a way; or owe the means of life + To such a leprous Traytor, I have towr'd + For Victory like a Faulcon in the Clouds, + Nor dig'd for't like a Mole; our Swords and Cause + Make way for us, and that it may appear + We took a noble Course, and hate base Treason, + Some Souldiers that would merit _Cæsar's_ favour, + Hang him on yonder Turret, and then follow + The lane this Sword makes for you. [_Exit._ + + _1 Sold._ Here's a Belt, + Though I dye for it I'll use it. + + _2 Sold._ 'Tis too good + To truss a Cur in. + + _Sept._ Save me, here's Gold. + + _1 Sold._ If _Rome_ + Were offered for thy ransom, it could not help thee. + + _2 Sold._ Hang not an arse. + + _1 Sold._ Goad him on with thy Sword; + Thou dost deserve a worser end, and may + All such conclude so, that their friends betray. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENE IV. + + _Enter (severally)_ Arsino, Eros, Cleopatra. + + _Ars._ We are lost. + + _Eros_. Undone. + + _Ars._ Confusion, Fire, and Swords, + And fury in the Souldiers face more horrid + Circle us round. + + _Eros_. The Kings Command they laugh at, + And jeer at _Cæsars_ threats. + + _Ars._ My Brother seiz'd on + By the _Roman_, as thought guilty of the tumult, + And forc'd to bear him company, as mark'd out + For his protection or revenge. + + _Eros_. They have broke + Into my Cabinet; my Trunks are ransack'd. + + _Ars._ I have lost my jewels too: but that's the least: + The barbarous Rascals, against all humanity, + Or sense of pity, have kill'd my little Dog, + And broke my Monkeys Chain. + + _Eros_. They rifled me: + But that I could endure, would they proceed no further. + + _Ars._ O my Sister! + + _Eros_. My Queen, my Mistress! + + _Ars._ Can you stand unmov'd + When the Earth-quake of Rebellion shakes the City, + And the Court trembles? + + _Cleo._ Yes, _Arsino_, + And with a Masculine Constancy deride + Fortunes worst malice, as a Servant to + My Vertues, not a Mistress; then we forsake + The strong Fort of our selves, when we once yield, + Or shrink at her assaults; I am still my self, + And though disrob'd of Soveraignty, and ravish'd + Of ceremonious duty, that attends it, + Nay, grant they had slav'd my Body, my free mind + Like to the Palm-tree walling fruitful _Nile_, + Shall grow up straighter and enlarge it self + 'Spight of the envious weight that loads it with: + Think of thy Birth (_Arsino_) common burdens + Fit common Shoulders; teach the multitude + By suffering nobly what they fear to touch at; + The greatness of thy mind does soar a pitch, + Their dim eyes (darkened by their narrow souls) + Cannot arrive at. + + _Ars._ I am new created, + And owe this second being to you (best Sister) + For now I feel you have infus'd into me + Part of your fortitude. + + _Eros_. I still am fearful; + I dare not tell a lie; you that were born + Daughters and Sisters unto Kings, may nourish + Great thoughts, which I, that am your humble handmaid + Must not presume to rival. + + _Cleo._ Yet (my _Eros_) + Though thou hast profited nothing by observing + The whole course of my life, learn in my death, + Though not to equal, yet to imitate + Thy fearless Mistress. + + _Enter_ Photinus. + + _Eros_. O, a man in Arms! + His Weapon drawn too? + + _Cleo._ Though upon the point + Death sate, I'll meet it, and outdare the danger. + + _Pho._ Keep the Watch strong, and guard the passage sure + That leads unto the Sea. + + _Cleo._ What Sea of rudeness + Breaks in upon us? or what Subjects Breath + Dare raise a storm, when we command a calm? + Are Duty and Obedience fled to Heaven? + And in their room ambition and pride + Sent into _Egypt_? That Face speaks thee, _Photinus_, + A thing thy Mother brought into the World; + My Brother's and my Slave: but thy behaviour, + Oppos'd to that, an insolent intruder + Upon that Soveraignty thou shouldst bow to. + If in the Gulph of base ingratitude, + All loyalty to _Ptolomy_ the King + Be swallowed up, remember who I am, + Whose Daughter and whose Sister; or suppose + That is forgot too; let the name of _Cæsar_ + Which Nations quake at, stop the desperate madness + From running headlong on to thy Confusion. + Throw from thee quickly those rebellious Arms, + And let me read submission in thine Eyes; + Thy wrongs to us we will not only pardon, + But be a ready advocate to plead for thee + To _Cæsar_, and my Brother. + + _Pho._ Plead my Pardon? + To you I bow, but scorn as much to stoop thus + To _Ptolomy_ or _Cæsar_, Nay, the gods, + As to put off the figure of a man, + And change my Essence with a sensual Beast; + All my designs, my counsels, and dark ends + Were aim'd to purchase you. + + _Cleo._ How durst thou, being + The scorn of baseness, nourish such a thought? + + _Pho._ They that have power are royal; and those base + That live at the devotion of another. + What birth gave _Ptolomy_, or fortune _Cæsar_, + By Engines fashion'd in this _Protean_ Anvil + I have made mine; and only stoop at you, + Whom I would still preserve free to command me; + For _Cæsar's_ frowns, they are below my thoughts, + And but in these fair Eyes I still have read + The story of a supream Monarchy, + To which all hearts with mine gladly pay tribute, + _Photinus's_ Name had long since been as great + As _Ptolomies_ e'r was, or _Cæsars_ is, + This made me as a weaker tye to unloose + The knot of Loyalty, that chain'd my freedom, + And slight the fear that _Cæsars_ threats might cause, + That I and they might see no Sun appear + But _Cleopatra_ in the _Egyptian_ Sphear. + + _Cleo._ O Giant-like Ambition! marryed to + _Cymmerian_ darkness! inconsiderate Fool, + (Though flatter'd with self-love) could'st thou believe, + Were all Crowns on the Earth made into one, + And that (by Kings) set on thy head; all Scepters, + Within thy grasp, and laid down at my feet, + I would vouchsafe a kiss to a no-man? + A guelded Eunuch? + + _Pho._ Fairest, that makes for me, + And shews it is no sensual appetite, + But true love to the greatness of thy Spirit, + That when that you are mine shall yield me pleasures, + _Hymen_, though blessing a new married Pair + Shall blush to think on, and our certain issue, + The glorious splendor of dread Majesty, + Whose beams shall dazel _Rome_, and aw the world, + My wants in that kind others shall supply, + And I give way to it. + + _Cleo._ Baser than thy Birth; + Can there be gods, and hear this, and no thunder + Ram thee into the Earth? + + _Pho._ They are asleep, + And cannot hear thee; + Or with open Eyes, + Did _Jove_ look on us, I would laugh and swear + That his artillery is cloy'd by me: + Or if that they have power to hurt, his Bolts + Are in my hand. + + _Cleo._ Most impious! + + _Pho._ They are dreams, + Religious Fools shake at: yet to assure thee, + If _Nemesis_, that scourges pride and scorn, + Be any thing but a name, she lives in me; + For by my self (an oath to me more dreadful + Than _Stix_ is to your gods) weak _Ptolomy_ dead, + And _Cæsar_ (both being in my toil) remov'd, + The poorest Rascals that are in my Camp + Shall in my presence quench their lustful heat + In thee, and young _Arsino_, while I laugh + To hear you howl in vain: + I deride those gods, + That you think can protect you. + + _Cleo._ To prevent thee, + In that I am the Mistress of my Fate; + So hope I of my sister to confirm it. + I spit at thee, and scorn thee. + + _Pho._ I will tame + That haughty courage, and make thee stoop too. + + _Cleo._ Never, + I was born to command, and will dye so. + + _Enter_ Achillas, _and Souldiers, with the Body of_ Ptolomy. + + _Pho._ The King dead? this is a fair entrance to + Our future happiness. + + _Ars._ Oh my dear Brother! + + _Cleo._ Weep not, _Arsino_, common women do so, + Nor lose a tear for him, it cannot help him; + But study to dye nobly. + + _Pho._ _Cæsar_ fled! + 'Tis deadly aconite to my cold heart, + It choaks my vital Spirits: where was your care? + Did the Guards sleep? + + _Achil._ He rowz'd them with his Sword; + We talk of _Mars_, but I am sure his Courage + Admits of no comparison but it self, + And (as inspir'd by him) his following friends + With such a confidence as young Eagles prey + Under the large wing of their fiercer Dam, + Brake through our Troops and scatter'd them, he went on + But still pursu'd by us, when on the sudden, + He turn'd his head, and from his Eyes flew terrour; + Which strook in us no less fear and amazement, + Than if we had encounter'd with the lightning + Hurl'd from _Jove's_ cloudy Brow. + + _Cleo._ 'Twas like my _Cæsar_. + + _Achil._ We faln back, he made on, and as our fear + Had parted from us with his dreadful looks, + Again we follow'd; but got near the Sea; + On which his Navy anchor'd; in one hand + Holding a Scroll he had above the waves, + And in the other grasping fast his Sword, + As it had been a Trident forg'd by _Vulcan_ + To calm the raging Ocean, he made away + As if he had been _Neptune_, his friends like + So many _Tritons_ follow'd, their bold shouts + Yielding a chearful musick; we showr'd darts + Upon them, but in vain, they reach'd their ships + And in their safety we are sunk; for _Cæsar_ + Prepares for War. + + _Pho._ How fell the King? + + _Achil._ Unable + To follow _Cæsar_, he was trod to death + By the Pursuers, and with him the Priest + Of _Isis_, good _Achoreus_. + + _Ars._ May the Earth + Lye gently on their ashes. + + _Pho._ I feel now, + That there are powers above us; and that 'tis not + Within the searching policies of man + To alter their decrees. + + _Cleo._ I laugh at thee; + Where are thy threats now, Fool, thy scoffs and scorns + Against the gods? I see calamity + Is the best Mistress of Religion, + And can convert an Atheist. [_Shout within._ + + _Pho._ O they come, + Mountains fall on me! O for him to dye + That plac'd his Heaven on Earth, is an assurance + Of his descent to Hell; where shall I hide me? + The greatest daring to a man dishonest, + Is but a Bastard Courage, ever fainting. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Sceva, Antony, Dolabella. + + _Cæs._ Look on your _Cæsar_; banish fear, my fairest, + You now are safe. + + _Sce._ By _Venus_, not a kiss + Till our work be done; the Traitors once dispatch'd + To it, and we'll cry aim. + + _Cæs._ I will be speedy. [_Exeunt._ + + _Cleo._ Farewel again, _Arsino_; how now, _Eros_? + Ever faint-hearted? + + _Eros_. But that I am assur'd, + Your Excellency can command the General, + I fear the Souldiers, for they look as if + They would be nibling too. + + _Cleo._ He is all honour, + Nor do I now repent me of my favours, + Nor can I think that Nature e'r made a Woman + That in her prime deserv'd him. + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Sceva, Antonie, Dolabella, _Souldiers, with the + Heads._ + + _Ars._ He's come back, + Pursue no further; curb the Souldiers fury. + + _Cæs._ See (beauteous Mistris) their accursed heads + That did conspire against us. + + _Sce._ Furies plague 'em, + They had too fair an end to dye like Souldiers, + _Pompey_ fell by the Sword, the Cross or Halter + Should have dispatch'd them. + + _Cæs._ All is but death, good _Sceva_, + Be therefore satisfied: and now my dearest, + Look upon _Cæsar_, as he still appear'd + A Conquerour, and this unfortunate King + Entomb'd with honour, we'll to _Rome_, where _Cæsar_ + Will shew he can give Kingdoms; for the Senate, + (Thy Brother dead) shall willingly decree + The Crown of _Egypt_ (that was his) to thee. [_Exeunt omnes._ + + + + +PROLOGUE. + + _New Titles warrant not a Play for new,_ + _The Subject being old; and 'tis as true,_ + _Fresh and neat matter may with ease be fram'd_ + _Out of their Stories, that have oft been nam'd_ + _With glory on the Stage; what borrows he_ + _From him that wrote old_ Priam's _Tragedy,_ + _That writes his love to_ Hecuba? _Sure to tell_ + _Of_ Cæsars _amorous heats, and how he fell_ + _In the Capitol, can never be the same_ + _To the Judicious; Nor will such blame_ + _Those who pen'd this, for Barrenness when they find_ + _Young_ Cleopatra _here, and her great Mind_ + _Expressed to the height, with us a Maid, and free,_ + _And how he rated her Virginitie._ + _We treat not of what boldness she did dye,_ + _Nor of her fatal Love to_ Antony. + _What we present and offer to your view,_ + _Upon their faiths the Stage yet never knew._ + _Let Reason then first to your Wills give laws,_ + _And after judge of them and of their cause._ + + + +EPILOGUE. + + _I Now should wish another had my place,_ + _But that I hope to come off, and with Grace;_ + _And but express some sign that you are pleas'd,_ + _We of our doubts, they of their fears are eas'd._ + _I would beg further (Gentlemen) and much say_ + _In favour of our selves, them, and the Play;_ + _Did I not rest assured, the most I see_ + _Hate Impudence, and cherish Modestie._ + + + * * * * * + + + +APPENDIX. + +p. 300, ll. 5-39. Not in 1st folio. + +p. 301, l. 3. 2nd folio] Achil. Love the K. l. 30. frequent in this. +l. 31. to safe. + +p. 302, l. 13. and give. + +p. 303, l. 10. 2nd folio _here and frequently prints_] Septinius. + +p. 304, ll. 3 and 4. o' these ... foole us; l. 7. 2nd folio +_misprints_] Aeh. + +p. 305. l. 7. Till they. l. 24. 2nd folio _misprints_] and. + +p. 309, l. 30. _A missing bracket has been added before_ Photinus. + +p. 310, l. 4. Prerogatives. l. 31. 2nd folio _misprints_] Potolmy. l. +40. hand of. + +p. 313, l. 29. a Prisoner. + +p. 316, l. 2. of thy. l. 11. _Omits_ in. l. 14. sought him. + +p. 318, l. 16. _A comma has been added at the end of the line._ + +p. 320, l. 20. tell you. l. 24. _Adds the following line_] I gave you +no comission to performe it: l. 31. with ye. l. 32. Hangers. + +p. 321, l. 23. told ye. l. 30. ye are. + +p. 322, l. 33. my anger. + +p. 323, l. 2. 2nd folio] Lordships. + +p. 324, l. 32. _Adds the following line_] The rule of ill, I'le trust +before the dore. + +p. 325, l. 1. I sat. l. 17. Affrinius. l. 23. past now. l. 29. comes +still. + +p. 326, l. 9. _Omits_ rich. l. 32. _Omits_ that. + +p. 327, l. 3. Pray. + +p. 328, l. 1. I know. l. 6. on a. + +p. 329, l. 14. first would. + +p. 330, l. 34. 2nd folio _misprints_] Apollodrous. + +p. 331, l. 28. loades us. + +p. 332, l. 11. this rare. l. 20. cradled. + +p. 333, l. 27. halfe an houre. + +p. 334, l. 13. Devills are light. + +p. 336, l. 1. 2nd folio] villaines. l. 10. my God. l. 12. Rude +valorus. l. 28. 2nd folio] shall. + +p. 337, l. 1. blood. l. 7. stuffes. l. 8. Leaper. l. 26. _Omits_ To. + +p. 338, l. 18. 2nd folio _misprints_] Sep. l. 23. the charities. l. +31. The infectious. + +p. 340, l. 20. readiest. l. 30. _Adds after_ treasure?] richer still? + +p. 341, l. 11. _Omits_ me. + +p. 343, l. 1. hidden. + +p. 344, l. 13. they would. l. 31. Pray thee be. + +p. 346, l. 23. Lovers. + +p. 347, l. 9. Dye not. + +p. 348, l. 39. to my. + +p. 349, l. 18. backe; but. + +p. 350, l. 34. 2nd folio _misprints_] lasciciously. + +p. 351, l. 20. 2nd folio _misprints_] Sec. + +p. 353, l. 20. 2nd folio] 2 Sol. l. 27. loose all. + +p. 355, l. 23. 2nd folio _misprints_] Sep. l. 35. 2nd folio +_misprints_] maidend-head. + +p. 356, l. 6. 2nd folio _misprints_] Achil. l. 16. hearest. + +p. 357, l. 10. to weale my. l. 22. bondmans. + +p. 359, l. 21. A will. l. 31. manur. l. 37. 2nd folio] marrow. l. 38. +Cities, were made. + +p. 360, l. 14. 2nd folio] Brother, company that's. l. 28. them. + +p. 362, l. 9. darst. l. 17. This Devill. l. 23. rewarded, or return'd. +l. 29. I owe. + +p. 363, l. 6. while. l. 7. Achillas troops. l. 17. a moneth. l. 27. +Photinus secrets. + +p. 365, ll. 15 and 16. + + They rufled me: + But that I could endure, and tire 'em too, + Would they proceed no further. + +l. 20. When an. + +p. 367, l. 6. To Ptolomy, to Cæsar. l. 23. Photinus name. l. 29. th' +Egyptian. + +p. 368, l. 37. make it. l. 39. and I will. + +p. 369, l. 6. Nor loose. l. 16. you Eagletss. l. 18. 'em. + +p. 370, l. 37. _Omits_ that. + +p. 371, l. 5. _Omits_ Cæs. l. 15. for Rome. l. 20. The Prologue. +l. 32. Those that penn'd. + +p. 372, l. 7. The Epilogue. l. 13. In the favour. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14771 *** diff --git a/14771-h/14771-h.htm b/14771-h/14771-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9659ebb --- /dev/null +++ b/14771-h/14771-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8377 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The False One, by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher</title> + <style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[*/ + + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4 {text-align: center;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;} + + .poem {margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + p.author {text-align: right; margin-right:10%;} + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + pre {font-size: 8pt;} + --> + /*]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14771 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The False One, by Francis Beaumont and John +Fletcher, Edited by Arnold Glover</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + <h3>THE</h3> + + <h1>FALSE ONE.</h1> + + <h4>A</h4> + + <h2>TRAGEDY.</h2> +<p> </p> +<h4>by</h4> +<h2>Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher</h2> +<h3>Edited by Arnold Glover</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page300" + id="page300"></a>[pg 300]</span> + + <h3>Persons Represented in the Play.</h3> + + <table summary="dramatis personae" width="100%"> + <tr> + <td colspan="3">Julius Cæsar, <i>Emperour of</i> Rome.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Ptolomy, <i>King of</i> Ægypt.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Achoreus, <i>an honest Counsellor, Priest of</i> + Isis.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Photinus, <i>a Politician, minion to</i> + Ptolomy.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Achillas, <i>Captain of the Guard to</i> + Ptolomy.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Septimius, <i>a revolted Roman Villain.</i></td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Labienus, <i>a Roman Souldier, and</i> Nuncio.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Apollodorus, <i>Guardian to</i> Cleopatra.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td>Antonie,<br />Dolabella,</td> + <td><font size="+3">}</font></td><td>Cæsars <i>Captains.</i></td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Sceva, <i>a free Speaker, also Captain to</i> + Cæsar.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3"><i>Guard.</i></td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3"><i>Three lame Souldiers.</i></td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3"><i>Servants.</i></td> + </tr> + </table> + + <h4><i>WOMEN.</i></h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Cleopatra, <i>Queen of</i> Ægypt. Cæsar's + <i>Mistris.</i></p> + + <p>Arsino, Cleopatra's <i>Sister.</i></p> + + <p>Eros, Cleopatra's <i>waiting Woman.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + <p> </p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p> </p> + + <p><i>The Scene</i> Ægypt.</p> + <p> </p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p> </p> + + <p>The principal Actors were,</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>John Lowin.</i></p> + + <p><i>John Underwood.</i></p> + + <p><i>Robert Benfield.</i></p> + + <p><i>Richard Sharpe.</i></p> + + <p><i>Joseph Taylor.</i></p> + + <p><i>Nicholas Toolie.</i></p> + + <p><i>John Rice.</i></p> + + <p><i>George Birch.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h4>CONTENTS.</h4> + + <p><i>Actus Primus. Scena Prima.</i> + <a href="#page301">301</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA II. <a href="#page311">311</a></p> + + <p><i>Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.</i> + <a href="#page315">315</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENE II. <a href="#page322">322</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENE III. <a href="#page324">324</a></p> + + <p><i>Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.</i> <a href="#page330">330</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA II. <a href="#page332">332</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA III. <a href="#page339">339</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA IV. <a href="#page340">340</a></p> + + <p><i>Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.</i> + <a href="#page343">343</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA II. <a href="#page345">345</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA III. <a href="#page352">352</a></p> + + <p><i>Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.</i> + <a href="#page357">357</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA II. <a href="#page359">359</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENE III. <a href="#page362">362</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENE IV. <a href="#page364">364</a></p> + + <p>Prologue. <a href="#page371">371</a></p> + + <p>Epilogue. <a href="#page372">372</a></p> + + <p><a href="#page373">APPENDIX.</a></p> + <p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="short" /> + <p> </p> +<p> </p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page301" + id="page301"></a>[pg 301]</span> + + <h2><i>Actus Primus. Scena Prima.</i></h2> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Achillas, <i>and</i> Achoreus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">[<i>Ach.</i>] I love the King, nor do + dispute his power,</p> + + <p>(For that is not confin'd, nor to be censur'd</p> + + <p>By me, that am his Subject) yet allow me</p> + + <p>The liberty of a Man, that still would be</p> + + <p>A friend to Justice, to demand the motives</p> + + <p>That did induce young <i>Ptolomy</i>, or + <i>Photinus</i>,</p> + + <p>(To whose directions he gives up himself,</p> + + <p>And I hope wisely) to commit his Sister,</p> + + <p>The Princess <i>Cleopatra</i> (if I said</p> + + <p>The Queen) <i>Achillas</i> 'twere (I hope) no + treason,</p> + + <p>She being by her Fathers Testament</p> + + <p>(Whose memory I bow to) left Co-heir</p> + + <p>In all he stood possest of.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> 'Tis confest</p> + + <p>(My good <i>Achoreus</i>) that in these Eastern + Kingdoms</p> + + <p>Women are not exempted from the Sceptre,</p> + + <p>But claim a priviledge, equal to the Male;</p> + + <p>But how much such divisions have ta'en from</p> + + <p>The Majesty of <i>Egypt</i>, and what factions</p> + + <p>Have sprung from those partitions, to the ruine</p> + + <p>Of the poor Subject, (doubtful which to follow,)</p> + + <p>We have too many, and too sad examples,</p> + + <p>Therefore the wise <i>Photinus</i>, to prevent</p> + + <p>The Murthers, and the Massacres, that attend</p> + + <p>On disunited Government, and to shew</p> + + <p>The King without a Partner, in full splendour,</p> + + <p>Thought it convenient the fair <i>Cleopatra</i>,</p> + + <p>(An attribute not frequent to the Climate)</p> + + <p>Should be committed in safe Custody,</p> + + <p>In which she is attended like her Birth,</p> + + <p>Until her Beauty, or her royal Dowre,</p> + + <p>Hath found her out a Husband.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> How this may</p> + + <p>Stand with the rules of policy, I know not;</p> + + <p>Most sure I am, it holds no correspondence</p> + + <p>With the Rites of <i>Ægypt</i>, or the Laws of + Nature;</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page302" + id="page302"></a>[pg 302]</span> + + <p>But grant that <i>Cleopatra</i> can sit down</p> + + <p>With this disgrace (though insupportable)</p> + + <p>Can you imagine, that <i>Romes</i> glorious + Senate</p> + + <p>(To whose charge, by the will of the dead King</p> + + <p>This government was deliver'd) or great + <i>Pompey</i>,</p> + + <p>(That is appointed <i>Cleopatra</i>'s Guardian</p> + + <p>As well as <i>Ptolomies</i>) will e're approve</p> + + <p>Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought + for,</p> + + <p>That should authorize it?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> The Civil war</p> + + <p>In which the <i>Roman</i> Empire is embarqu'd</p> + + <p>On a rough Sea of danger, does exact</p> + + <p>Their whole care to preserve themselves, and gives + them</p> + + <p>No vacant time to think of what we do,</p> + + <p>Which hardly can concern them.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> What's your opinion</p> + + <p>Of the success? I have heard, in multitudes</p> + + <p>Of Souldiers, and all glorious pomp of war,</p> + + <p><i>Pompey</i> is much superiour.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> I could give you</p> + + <p>A Catalogue of all the several Nations</p> + + <p>From whence he drew his powers: but that were + tedious.</p> + + <p>They have rich arms, are ten to one in number,</p> + + <p>Which makes them think the day already won;</p> + + <p>And <i>Pompey</i> being master of the Sea,</p> + + <p>Such plenty of all delicates are brought in,</p> + + <p>As if the place on which they are entrench'd,</p> + + <p>Were not a Camp of Souldiers, but <i>Rome</i>,</p> + + <p>In which <i>Lucullus</i> and <i>Apicius</i> + joyn'd,</p> + + <p>To make a publique Feast: they at + <i>Dirachium</i></p> + + <p>Fought with success; but knew not to make use of</p> + + <p><i>Fortunes</i> fair offer: so much I have heard</p> + + <p><i>Cæsar</i> himself confess.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Where are they now?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> In <i>Thessalie</i>, near + the <i>Pharsalian</i> plains</p> + + <p>Where <i>Cæsar</i> with a handfull of his Men</p> + + <p>Hems in the greater number: his whole troops</p> + + <p>Exceed not twenty thousand, but old Souldiers</p> + + <p>Flesh'd in the spoils of <i>Germany</i> and + <i>France</i>,</p> + + <p>Inur'd to his Command, and only + know</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page303" + id="page303"></a>[pg 303]</span> + + <p>To fight and overcome; And though that + <i>Famine</i></p> + + <p>Raigns in his Camp, compelling them to tast</p> + + <p>Bread made of roots, forbid the use of man,</p> + + <p>(Which they with scorn threw into <i>Pompeys</i> + Camp</p> + + <p>As in derision of his Delicates)</p> + + <p>Or corn not yet half ripe, and that a Banquet:</p> + + <p>They still besiege him, being ambitious only</p> + + <p>To come to blows, and let their swords determine</p> + + <p>Who hath the better Cause.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Septi[m]ius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> May Victory</p> + + <p>Attend on't, where it is.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> We every hour</p> + + <p>Expect to hear the issue.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Save my good Lords;</p> + + <p>By <i>Isis</i> and <i>Osiris</i>, whom you + worship;</p> + + <p>And the four hundred gods and goddesses</p> + + <p>Ador'd in <i>Rome</i>, I am your honours + servant.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Truth needs, + <i>Septimius</i>, no oaths.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> You are cruel,</p> + + <p>If you deny him swearing, you take from him</p> + + <p>Three full parts of his language.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Your Honour's bitter,</p> + + <p>Confound me, where I love I cannot say it,</p> + + <p>But I must swear't: yet such is my ill fortune,</p> + + <p>Nor vows, nor protestations win belief,</p> + + <p>I think, and (I can find no other reason)</p> + + <p>Because I am a <i>Roman</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> No <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>To be a <i>Roman</i> were an honour to you,</p> + + <p>Did not your manners, and your life take from + it,</p> + + <p>And cry aloud, that from <i>Rome</i> you bring + nothing</p> + + <p>But <i>Roman</i> Vices, which you would plant + here,</p> + + <p>But no seed of her vertues.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> With your reverence</p> + + <p>I am too old to learn.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Any thing honest,</p> + + <p>That I believe, without an oath.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I + fear</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page304" + id="page304"></a>[pg 304]</span> + + <p>Your Lordship has slept ill to night, and that</p> + + <p>Invites this sad discourse: 'twill make you old</p> + + <p>Before your time:—O these vertuous Morals,</p> + + <p>And old religious principles, that fool us!</p> + + <p>I have brought you a new Song, will make you + laugh,</p> + + <p>Though you were at your prayers.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>A[c]h.</i> What is the subject?</p> + + <p>Be free <i>Septimius</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> 'Tis a Catalogue</p> + + <p>Of all the Gamesters of the Court and City,</p> + + <p>Which Lord lyes with that Lady, and what Gallant</p> + + <p>Sports with that Merchants wife; and does relate</p> + + <p>Who sells her honour for a Diamond,</p> + + <p>Who, for a tissew robe: whose husband's jealous,</p> + + <p>And who so kind, that, to share with his wife,</p> + + <p>Will make the match himself:</p> + + <p>Harmless conceits,</p> + + <p>Though fools say they are dangerous: I sang it</p> + + <p>The last night at my Lord <i>Photinus</i> table.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> How? as a Fidler?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> No Sir, as a Guest,</p> + + <p>A welcom guest too: and it was approv'd of</p> + + <p>By a dozen of his friends, though they were touch'd + in't:</p> + + <p>For look you, 'tis a kind of merriment,</p> + + <p>When we have laid by foolish modesty</p> + + <p>(As not a man of fashion will wear it)</p> + + <p>To talk what we have done; at least to hear it;</p> + + <p>If meerily set down, it fires the blood,</p> + + <p>And heightens Crest-faln appetite.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> New doctrine!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Was't of your own + composing?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> No, I bought it</p> + + <p>Of a skulking Scribler for two Ptolomies:</p> + + <p>But the hints were mine own; the wretch was + fearfull:</p> + + <p>But I have damn'd my self, should it be + question'd,</p> + + <p>That I will own it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> And be punished for it:</p> + + <p>Take heed: for you may so long exercise</p> + + <p>Your scurrilous wit against authority,</p> + + <p>The Kingdoms Counsels; and make profane + Jests,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page305" + id="page305"></a>[pg 305]</span> + + <p>(Which to you (being an atheist) is nothing)</p> + + <p>Against Religion, that your great maintainers</p> + + <p>(Unless they would be thought Co-partners with + you)</p> + + <p>Will leave you to the Law: and then, + <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>Remember there are whips.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> For whore's I grant you,</p> + + <p>When they are out of date, till then are safe + too,</p> + + <p>Or all the Gallants of the Court are Eunuchs,</p> + + <p>And for mine own defence I'le only add this,</p> + + <p>I'le be admitted for a wanton tale</p> + + <p>To some most private Cabinets, when your + Priest-hood</p> + + <p>(Though laden with the mysteries of your + goddess)</p> + + <p>Shall wait without unnoted: so I leave you</p> + + <p>To your pious thoughts. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> 'Tis a strange + impudence,</p> + + <p>This fellow does put on.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> The wonder great,</p> + + <p>He is accepted of.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Vices, for him,</p> + + <p>Make as free way as vertues doe for others.</p> + + <p>'Tis the times fault: yet Great ones still have + grace'd</p> + + <p>To make them sport, or rub them o're with + flattery,</p> + + <p>Observers of all kinds.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Photinus, <i>and</i> Septimius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> No more of him,</p> + + <p>He is not worth our thoughts: a Fugitive</p> + + <p>From <i>Pompeys</i> army: and now in a danger</p> + + <p>When he should use his service.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> See how he hangs</p> + + <p>On great <i>Photinus</i> Ear.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Hell, and the furies,</p> + + <p>And all the plagues of darkness light upon me:</p> + + <p>You are my god on earth: and let me have</p> + + <p>Your favour here, fall what can fall hereafter.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Thou art believ'd: dost thou + want mony?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> No Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Or hast thou any suite? these + ever follow</p> + + <p>Thy vehement protestations.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> You much wrong + me;</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page306" + id="page306"></a>[pg 306]</span> + + <p>How can I want, when your beams shine upon me,</p> + + <p>Unless employment to express my zeal</p> + + <p>To do your greatness service? do but think</p> + + <p>A deed so dark, the Sun would blush to look on,</p> + + <p>For which Man-kind would curse me, and arm all</p> + + <p>The powers above, and those below against me:</p> + + <p>Command me, I will on.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> When I have use,</p> + + <p>I'le put you to the test.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> May it be speedy,</p> + + <p>And something worth my danger: you are cold,</p> + + <p>And know not your own powers: this brow was + fashion'd</p> + + <p>To wear a Kingly wreath, and your grave + judgment,</p> + + <p>Given to dispose of monarchies, not to govern</p> + + <p>A childs affairs, the peoples eye's upon you,</p> + + <p>The Souldier courts you: will you wear a garment</p> + + <p>Of sordid loyalty when 'tis out of fashion?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> When <i>Pompey</i> was thy + General, <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>Thou saidst as much to him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> All my love to him,</p> + + <p>To <i>Cæsar</i>, <i>Rome</i>, and the whole world is + lost</p> + + <p>In the Ocean of your Bounties: I have no friend,</p> + + <p>Project, design, or Countrey, but your favour,</p> + + <p>Which I'le preserve at any rate.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> No more;</p> + + <p>When I call on you, fall not off: perhaps</p> + + <p>Sooner than you expect, I may employ you,</p> + + <p>So leave me for a while.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Ever your Creature. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Good day <i>Achoreus</i>; my + best friend <i>Achillas</i>,</p> + + <p>Hath fame deliver'd yet no certain rumour</p> + + <p>Of the great <i>Roman Action</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> That we are</p> + + <p>To enquire, and learn of you Sir: whose grave + care</p> + + <p>For <i>Egypts</i> happiness, and great + <i>Ptolomies</i> good,</p> + + <p>Hath eyes and ears in all parts.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Labienus, <i>Guard.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I'le not boast,</p> + + <p>What my Intelligence costs me: but 'ere + long</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page307" + id="page307"></a>[pg 307]</span> + + <p>You shall know more. The King, with him a + <i>Roman</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> The scarlet livery of + unfortunate war</p> + + <p>Dy'd deeply on his face.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> 'Tis <i>Labienus</i></p> + + <p><i>Cæsars</i> Lieutenant in the wars of + <i>Gaul</i>,</p> + + <p>And fortunate in all his undertakings:</p> + + <p>But since these Civil jars he turn'd to + <i>Pompey</i>,</p> + + <p>And though he followed the better Cause</p> + + <p>Not with the like success.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Such as are wise</p> + + <p>Leave falling buildings, flye to those that + rise;</p> + + <p>But more of that hereafter.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Lab.</i> In a word, Sir,</p> + + <p>These gaping wounds, not taken as a slave,</p> + + <p>Speak <i>Pompey's</i> loss: to tell you of the + Battail,</p> + + <p>How many thousand several bloody shapes</p> + + <p>Death wore that day in triumph: how we bore</p> + + <p>The shock of <i>Cæsars</i> charge: or with what + fury</p> + + <p>His Souldiers came on as if they had been</p> + + <p>So many <i>Cæsars</i>, and like him ambitious</p> + + <p>To tread upon the liberty of <i>Rome</i>:</p> + + <p>How Fathers kill'd their Sons, or Sons their + Fathers,</p> + + <p>Or how the <i>Roman</i> Piles on either side</p> + + <p>Drew <i>Roman</i> blood, which spent, the Prince of + weapons,</p> + + <p>(The sword) succeeded, which in Civil wars</p> + + <p>Appoints the Tent on which wing'd victory</p> + + <p>Shall make a certain Stand; then, how the Plains</p> + + <p>Flow'd o're with blood, and what a cloud of + vulturs</p> + + <p>And other birds of prey, hung o're both armies,</p> + + <p>Attending when their ready Servitors,</p> + + <p>(The Souldiers, from whom the angry gods</p> + + <p>Had took all sense of reason, and of pity)</p> + + <p>Would serve in their own carkasses for a feast,</p> + + <p>How <i>Cæsar</i> with his Javelin force'd them + on</p> + + <p>That made the least stop, when their angry hands</p> + + <p>Were lifted up against some known friends face;</p> + + <p>Then coming to the body of the army</p> + + <p>He shews the sacred <i>Senate</i>, and forbids + them</p> + + <p>To wast their force upon the Common Souldier,</p> + + <p>Whom willingly, if e're he did know + pity,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page308" + id="page308"></a>[pg 308]</span> + + <p>He would have spar'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> The reason + <i>Labienus</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Lab.</i> Full well he knows, that in + their blood he was</p> + + <p>To pass to Empire, and that through their bowels</p> + + <p>He must invade the Laws of <i>Rome</i>, and give</p> + + <p>A period to the liberty of the world.</p> + + <p>Then fell the <i>Lepidi</i>, and the bold + <i>Corvini</i>,</p> + + <p>The fam'd <i>Torquati</i>, <i>Scipio's</i>, and + <i>Marcelli</i>,</p> + + <p>(Names next to <i>Pompeys</i>, most renown'd on + Earth)</p> + + <p>The Nobles, and the Commons lay together,</p> + + <p>And Pontique, Punique, and <i>Assyrian</i> blood</p> + + <p>Made up one crimson Lake: which <i>Pompey</i> + seeing,</p> + + <p>And that his, and the fate of <i>Rome</i> had left + him</p> + + <p>Standing upon the Rampier of his Camp,</p> + + <p>Though scorning all that could fall on himself,</p> + + <p>He pities them whose fortunes are embarqu'd</p> + + <p>In his unlucky quarrel; cryes aloud too</p> + + <p>That they should sound retreat, and save + themselves:</p> + + <p>That he desir'd not, so much noble blood</p> + + <p>Should be lost in his service, or attend</p> + + <p>On his misfortunes: and then, taking horse</p> + + <p>With some few of his friends, he came to + <i>Lesbos</i>,</p> + + <p>And with <i>Cornelia</i>, his Wife, and Sons,</p> + + <p>He's touch'd upon your shore: the King of + <i>Parthia</i>,</p> + + <p>(Famous in his defeature of the <i>Crassi</i>)</p> + + <p>Offer'd him his protection, but <i>Pompey</i></p> + + <p>Relying on his Benefits, and your Faith,</p> + + <p>Hath chosen <i>Ægypt</i> for his Sanctuary,</p> + + <p>Till he may recollect his scattered powers,</p> + + <p>And try a second day: now <i>Ptolomy</i>,</p> + + <p>Though he appear not like that glorious thing</p> + + <p>That three times rode in triumph, and gave laws</p> + + <p>To conquer'd Nations, and made Crowns his gift</p> + + <p>(As this of yours, your noble Father took</p> + + <p>From his victorious hand, and you still wear it</p> + + <p>At his devotion) to do you more honour</p> + + <p>In his declin'd estate, as the straightst Pine</p> + + <p>In a full grove of his yet flourishing friends,</p> + + <p>He flyes to you for succour, and expects</p> + + <p>The entertainment of your Fathers + friend,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page309" + id="page309"></a>[pg 309]</span> + + <p>And Guardian to your self.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> To say I grieve his + fortune</p> + + <p>As much as if the Crown I wear (his gift)</p> + + <p>Were ravish'd from me, is a holy truth,</p> + + <p>Our Gods can witness for me: yet, being young,</p> + + <p>And not a free disposer of my self;</p> + + <p>Let not a few hours, borrowed for advice,</p> + + <p>Beget suspicion of unthankfulness,</p> + + <p>(Which next to Hell I hate) pray you retire,</p> + + <p>And take a little rest, and let his wounds</p> + + <p>Be with that care attended, as they were</p> + + <p>Carv'd on my flesh: good <i>Labienus</i>, think</p> + + <p>The little respite, I desire shall be</p> + + <p>Wholly emploi'd to find the readiest way</p> + + <p>To doe great <i>Pompey</i> service.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Lab.</i> May the gods</p> + + <p>(As you intend) protect you. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Sit: sit all,</p> + + <p>It is my pleasure: your advice, and freely.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> A short deliberation in + this,</p> + + <p>May serve to give you counsel: to be honest,</p> + + <p>Religious and thankfull, in themselves</p> + + <p>Are forcible motives, and can need no flourish</p> + + <p>Or gloss in the perswader; your kept faith,</p> + + <p>(Though <i>Pompey</i> never rise to th' height he's + fallen from)</p> + + <p><i>Cæsar</i> himself will love; and my opinion</p> + + <p>Is (still committing it to graver censure)</p> + + <p>You pay the debt you owe him, with the hazard</p> + + <p>Of all you can call yours.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> What's yours, + (<i>Photinus</i>?)</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> <i>Achoreus</i> (great + <i>Ptolomy</i>) hath counsell'd</p> + + <p>Like a Religious, and honest man,</p> + + <p>Worthy the honour that he justly holds</p> + + <p>In being Priest to <i>Isis</i>: But alas,</p> + + <p>What in a man, sequester'd from the world,</p> + + <p>Or in a private person, is prefer'd,</p> + + <p>No policy allows of in a King,</p> + + <p>To be or just, or thankfull, makes Kings guilty,</p> + + <p>And faith (though prais'd) is punish'd that + supports</p> + + <p>Such as good Fate forsakes: joyn with the + gods,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page310" + id="page310"></a>[pg 310]</span> + + <p>Observe the man they favour, leave the wretched,</p> + + <p>The Stars are not more distant from the Earth</p> + + <p>Than profit is from honesty; all the power,</p> + + <p>Prerogative, and greatness of a Prince</p> + + <p>Is lost, if he descend once but to steer</p> + + <p>His course, as what's right, guides him: let him + leave</p> + + <p>The Scepter, that strives only to be good,</p> + + <p>Since Kingdomes are maintain'd by force and + blood.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Oh wicked!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Peace: goe on.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Proud Pompey shews how much + he scorns your youth,</p> + + <p>In thinking that you cannot keep your own</p> + + <p>From such as are or'e come. If you are tired</p> + + <p>With being a King, let not a stranger take</p> + + <p>What nearer pledges challenge: resign rather</p> + + <p>The government of <i>Egypt</i> and of + <i>Nile</i></p> + + <p>To <i>Cleopatra</i>, that has title to them,</p> + + <p>At least defend them from the Roman + <i>gripe</i>,</p> + + <p>What was not <i>Pompeys</i>, while the wars + endured,</p> + + <p>The Conquerour will not challenge; by all the + world</p> + + <p>Forsaken and despis'd, your gentle Guardian</p> + + <p>His hopes and fortunes desperate, makes choice + of</p> + + <p>What Nation he shall fall with: and pursu'd</p> + + <p>By their pale ghosts, slain in this Civil war,</p> + + <p>He flyes not <i>Cæsar</i> only, but the Senate,</p> + + <p>Of which, the greater part have cloi'd the + hunger</p> + + <p>Of sharp <i>Pharsalian</i> fowl, he flies the + Nations</p> + + <p>That he drew to his Quarrel, whose Estates</p> + + <p>Are sunk in his: and in no place receiv'd,</p> + + <p>Hath found out <i>Egypt</i>, by him yet not + ruin'd:</p> + + <p>And <i>Ptolomy</i>, things consider'd, justly + may</p> + + <p>Complain of <i>Pompey</i>: wherefore should he + stain</p> + + <p>Our <i>Egypt</i>, with the spots of civil war?</p> + + <p>Or make the peaceable, or quiet <i>Nile</i></p> + + <p>Doubted of <i>Cæsar</i>? wherefore should he + draw</p> + + <p>His loss, and overthrow upon our heads?</p> + + <p>Or choose this place to suffer in? already</p> + + <p>We have offended <i>Cæsar</i>, in our wishes,</p> + + <p>And no way left us to redeem his favour</p> + + <p>But by the head of + <i>Pompey</i>.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page311" + id="page311"></a>[pg 311]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Great <i>Osiris</i>,</p> + + <p>Defend thy <i>Ægypt</i> from such cruelty,</p> + + <p>And barbarous ingratitude!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Holy trifles,</p> + + <p>And not to have place in designs of State;</p> + + <p>This sword, which Fate commands me to unsheath,</p> + + <p>I would not draw on <i>Pompey</i>, if not + vanquish'd.</p> + + <p>I grant it rather should have pass'd through + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>But we must follow where his fortune leads us;</p> + + <p>All provident Princes measure their intents</p> + + <p>According to their power, and so dispose them:</p> + + <p>And thinkst thou (<i>Ptolomy</i>) that thou canst + prop</p> + + <p>His Ruines, under whom sad <i>Rome</i> now + suffers?</p> + + <p>Or 'tempt the Conquerours force when 'tis + confirm'd?</p> + + <p>Shall we, that in the Battail sate as Neuters</p> + + <p>Serve him that's overcome? No, no, he's lost.</p> + + <p>And though 'tis noble to a sinking friend</p> + + <p>To lend a helping hand, while there is hope</p> + + <p>He may recover, thy part not engag'd</p> + + <p>Though one most dear, when all his hopes are + dead,</p> + + <p>To drown him, set thy foot upon his head.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Most execrable Counsel.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> To be follow'd,</p> + + <p>'Tis for the Kingdoms safety.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> We give up</p> + + <p>Our absolute power to thee: dispose of it</p> + + <p>As reason shall direct thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Good <i>Achillas</i>,</p> + + <p>Seek out <i>Septimius</i>: do you but sooth him,</p> + + <p>He is already wrought: leave the dispatch</p> + + <p>To me of <i>Labienus</i>: 'tis determin'd</p> + + <p>Already how you shall proceed: nor Fate</p> + + <p>Shall alter it, since now the dye is cast,</p> + + <p>But that this hour to <i>Pompey</i> is his last. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENA II.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Apollodorus, Eros, Arsino. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Apol.</i> Is the Queen stirring, + <i>Eros</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros.</i> Yes, for in + truth</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page312" + id="page312"></a>[pg 312]</span> + + <p>She touch'd no bed to night.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Apol.</i> I am sorry for it,</p> + + <p>And wish it were in me, with my hazard,</p> + + <p>To give her ease.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Sir, she accepts your + will,</p> + + <p>And does acknowledge she hath found you noble,</p> + + <p>So far, as if restraint of liberty</p> + + <p>Could give admission to a thought of mirth,</p> + + <p>She is your debtor for it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Apol.</i> Did you tell her</p> + + <p>Of the sports I have prepar'd to entertain her?</p> + + <p>She was us'd to take delight, with her fair + hand,</p> + + <p>To angle in the <i>Nile</i>, where the glad fish</p> + + <p>(As if they knew who 'twas sought to deceive + 'em)</p> + + <p>Contended to be taken: other times</p> + + <p>To strike the Stag, who wounded by her arrows,</p> + + <p>Forgot his tears in death, and kneeling thanks + her</p> + + <p>To his last gasp, then prouder of his Fate,</p> + + <p>Than if with Garlands Crown'd, he had been + chosen</p> + + <p>To fall a Sacrifice before the altar</p> + + <p>Of the Virgin Huntress: the King, nor great + <i>Photinus</i></p> + + <p>Forbid her any pleasure; and the Circuit</p> + + <p>In which she is confin'd, gladly affords</p> + + <p>Variety of pastimes, which I would</p> + + <p>Encrease with my best service.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros.</i> O, but the thought</p> + + <p>That she that was born free, and to dispense</p> + + <p>Restraint, or liberty to others, should be</p> + + <p>At the devotion of her Brother, whom</p> + + <p>She only knows her equal, makes this place</p> + + <p>In which she lives (though stor'd with all + delights)</p> + + <p>A loathsome dungeon to her.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Apol.</i> Yet, (howe're</p> + + <p>She shall interpret it) I'le not be wanting</p> + + <p>To do my best to serve her: I have prepar'd</p> + + <p>Choise Musick near her Cabinet, and compos'd</p> + + <p>Some few lines, (set unto a solemn time)</p> + + <p>In the praise of imprisonment. Begin Boy.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page313" + id="page313"></a>[pg 313]</span> + + <h4>The SONG.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Look out bright eyes, and bless the air:</i></p> + + <p><i>Even in shadows you are fair.</i></p> + + <p><i>Shut-up-beauty is like fire,</i></p> + + <p><i>That breaks out clearer still and higher.</i></p> + + <p><i>Though your body be confin'd,</i></p> + + <p><i>And soft Love a prisoner bound,</i></p> + + <p><i>Yet the beauty of your mind</i></p> + + <p><i>Neither check, nor chain hath found.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Look out nobly then, and dare</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Even the Fetters that you + wear.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cleopatra. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> But that we are assur'd this + tastes of duty,</p> + + <p>And love in you, my <i>Guardian</i>, and desire</p> + + <p>In you, my <i>Sister</i>, and the rest, to please + us,</p> + + <p>We should receive this, as a sawcy rudeness</p> + + <p>Offer'd our private thoughts. But your intents</p> + + <p>Are to delight us: alas, you wash an + <i>Ethiop</i>:</p> + + <p>Can <i>Cleopatra</i>, while she does remember</p> + + <p>Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O</p> + + <p>I suffer in the name) and that (in Justice)</p> + + <p>There is no place in <i>Ægypt</i>, where I + stand,</p> + + <p>But that the tributary Earth is proud</p> + + <p>To kiss the foot of her, that is her Queen,</p> + + <p>Can she, I say, that is all this, e're relish</p> + + <p>Of comfort, or delight, while base + <i>Photinus</i>,</p> + + <p>Bond-man <i>Achillas</i>, and all other monsters</p> + + <p>That raign o're <i>Ptolomy</i>, make that a + Court,</p> + + <p>Where they reside, and this, where I, a Prison?</p> + + <p>But there's a <i>Rome</i>, a <i>Senate</i>, and a + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>(Though the great <i>Pompey</i> lean to + <i>Ptolomy</i>)</p> + + <p>May think of <i>Cleopatra</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> <i>Pompey</i>, Madam?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> What of him? speak: if ill, + <i>Apollodorus</i>,</p> + + <p>It is my happiness: and for thy news</p> + + <p>Receive a favour (<i>Kings</i> have kneel'd in vain + for)</p> + + <p>And kiss my hand.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> He's + lost.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page314" + id="page314"></a>[pg 314]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Speak it again!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> His army routed: he fled and + pursu'd</p> + + <p>By the all-conquering Cæsar.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Whither bends he?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> To <i>Egypt</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Ha! in person?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> 'Tis receiv'd</p> + + <p>For an undoubted truth.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I live again,</p> + + <p>And if assurance of my love, and beauty</p> + + <p>Deceive me not, I now shall find a Judge</p> + + <p>To do me right: but how to free my self,</p> + + <p>And get access? the <i>Guards</i> are strong upon + me,</p> + + <p>This door I must pass through. + <i>Apollodorus</i>,</p> + + <p>Thou often hast profess'd (to do me service,)</p> + + <p>Thy life was not thine own.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> I am not alter'd;</p> + + <p>And let your excellency propound a means,</p> + + <p>In which I may but give the least assistance,</p> + + <p>That may restore you, to that you were born to,</p> + + <p>(Though it call on the anger of the King,</p> + + <p>Or, (what's more deadly) all his Minion</p> + + <p><i>Photinus</i> can do to me) I, unmov'd,</p> + + <p>Offer my throat to serve you: ever provided,</p> + + <p>It bear some probable shew to be effected.</p> + + <p>To lose my self upon no ground, were madness,</p> + + <p>Not loyal duty.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Stand off: to thee + alone,</p> + + <p>I will discover what I dare not trust</p> + + <p>My Sister with, <i>Cæsar</i> is amorous,</p> + + <p>And taken more with the title of a Queen,</p> + + <p>Than feature or proportion, he lov'd + <i>Eunoe</i>,</p> + + <p>A <i>Moor</i>, deformed too, I have heard, that + brought</p> + + <p>No other object to inflame his blood,</p> + + <p>But that her Husband was a King, on both</p> + + <p>He did bestow rich presents; shall I then,</p> + + <p>That with a princely birth, bring beauty with + me,</p> + + <p>That know to prize my self at mine own rate,</p> + + <p>Despair his favour? art thou mine?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> I + am.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page315" + id="page315"></a>[pg 315]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I have found out a way shall + bring me to him,</p> + + <p>Spight of <i>Photinus</i> watches; if I prosper,</p> + + <p>(As I am confident I shall) expect</p> + + <p>Things greater than thy wishes; though I + purchase</p> + + <p>His grace with loss of my virginity,</p> + + <p>It skills not, if it bring home Majesty. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h2><i>Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.</i></h2> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Septimius, <i>with a head</i>, Achillas, + <i>Guard.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> 'Tis here, 'tis done, behold + you fearfull viewers,</p> + + <p>Shake, and behold the model of the world here,</p> + + <p>The pride, and strength, look, look again, 'tis + finish'd;</p> + + <p>That, that whole Armies, nay whole nations,</p> + + <p>Many and mighty Kings, have been struck blind + at,</p> + + <p>And fled before, wing'd with their fears and + terrours,</p> + + <p>That steel war waited on, and fortune courted,</p> + + <p>That high plum'd honour built up for her own;</p> + + <p>Behold that mightiness, behold that fierceness,</p> + + <p>Behold that child of war, with all his glories;</p> + + <p>By this poor hand made breathless, here (my + <i>Achillas</i>)</p> + + <p><i>Egypt</i>, and <i>Cæsar</i>, owe me for this + service,</p> + + <p>And all the conquer'd Nations.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Peace <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>Thy words sound more ungratefull than thy + actions,</p> + + <p>Though sometimes safety seek an instrument</p> + + <p>Of thy unworthy nature, thou (loud boaster)</p> + + <p>Think not she is bound to love him too, that's + barbarous.</p> + + <p>Why did not I, if this be meritorious,</p> + + <p>And binds the King unto me, and his bounties,</p> + + <p>Strike this rude stroke? I'le tell thee (thou poor + <i>Roman</i>)</p> + + <p>It was a sacred head, I durst not heave at,</p> + + <p>Not heave a thought.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> It was.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> I'le tell thee truely,</p> + + <p>And if thou ever yet heard'st tell of honour,</p> + + <p>I'le make thee blush: It was thy General's;</p> + + <p>That mans that fed thee once, that mans that bred + thee,</p> + + <p>The air thou breath'dst was his; the fire that + warm'd thee,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page316" + id="page316"></a>[pg 316]</span> + + <p>From his care kindled ever, nay, I'le show thee,</p> + + <p>(Because I'le make thee sensible of the + business,</p> + + <p>And why a noble man durst not touch at it)</p> + + <p>There was no piece of Earth, thou putst thy foot + on</p> + + <p>But was his conquest; and he gave thee motion.</p> + + <p>He triumph'd three times, who durst touch his + person?</p> + + <p>The very walls of <i>Rome</i> bow'd to his + presence,</p> + + <p>Dear to the Gods he was, to them that fear'd him</p> + + <p>A fair and noble Enemy. Didst thou hate him?</p> + + <p>And for thy love to <i>Cæsar</i>, sought his + ruine?</p> + + <p>Arm'd in the red <i>Pharsalian</i> fields, + <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>Where killing was in grace, and wounds were + glorious,</p> + + <p>Where Kings were fair competitours for honour,</p> + + <p>Thou shouldst have come up to him, there have fought + him,</p> + + <p>There, Sword to Sword.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I kill'd him on + commandment,</p> + + <p>If Kings commands be fair, when you all fainted,</p> + + <p>When none of you durst look—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> On deeds so barbarous,</p> + + <p>What hast thou got?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> The Kings love, and his + bounty,</p> + + <p>The honour of the service, which though you rail + at,</p> + + <p>Or a thousand envious souls fling their foams on + me,</p> + + <p>Will dignifie the cause, and make me glorious:</p> + + <p>And I shall live.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> A miserable villain,</p> + + <p>What reputation, and reward belongs to it</p> + + <p>Thus (with the head) I seize on, and make mine;</p> + + <p>And be not impudent to ask me why, Sirrah,</p> + + <p>Nor bold to stay, read in mine eyes the reason:</p> + + <p>The shame and obloquy I leave thine own,</p> + + <p>Inherit those rewards, they are fitter for thee,</p> + + <p>Your oyl's spent, and your snuff stinks: go out + basely.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + [<i>Exit.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> The King will yet + consider.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Here he comes Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Yet if it be undone: hear me + great Sir,</p> + + <p>If this inhumane stroak be yet unstrucken,</p> + + <p>If that adored head be not yet + sever'd</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page317" + id="page317"></a>[pg 317]</span> + + <p>From the most noble Body, weigh the miseries,</p> + + <p>The desolations that this great Eclipse works,</p> + + <p>You are young, be provident: fix not your Empire</p> + + <p>Upon the Tomb of him will shake all + <i>Egypt</i>,</p> + + <p>Whose warlike groans will raise ten thousand + Spirits,</p> + + <p>(Great as himself) in every hand a thunder;</p> + + <p>Destructions darting from their looks, and + sorrows</p> + + <p>That easy womens eyes shall never empty.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> You have done well; and 'tis + done, see <i>Achillas</i>,</p> + + <p>And in his hand the head.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Stay come no nearer,</p> + + <p>Me thinks I feel the very earth shake under me,</p> + + <p>I do remember him, he was my guardian,</p> + + <p>Appointed by the Senate to preserve me:</p> + + <p>What a full Majesty sits in his face yet?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> The King is troubled: be not + frighted Sir,</p> + + <p>Be not abus'd with fears; his death was + necessary,</p> + + <p>If you consider, Sir, most necessary,</p> + + <p>Not to be miss'd: and humbly thank great + <i>Isis</i>,</p> + + <p>He came so opportunely to your hands;</p> + + <p>Pity must now give place to rules of safety.</p> + + <p>Is not victorious <i>Cæsar</i> new arriv'd,</p> + + <p>And enter'd <i>Alexandria</i>, with his friends,</p> + + <p>His <i>Navy</i> riding by to wait his charges?</p> + + <p>Did he not beat this <i>Pompey</i>, and pursu'd + him?</p> + + <p>Was not this great man, his great enemy?</p> + + <p>This Godlike vertuous man, as people held him,</p> + + <p>But what fool dare be friend to flying vertue?</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Anthony, Dolabella, Sceva. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I hear their Trumpets, 'tis too late to stagger,</p> + + <p>Give me the head, and be you confident:</p> + + <p>Hail Conquerour, and head of all the world,</p> + + <p>Now this head's off.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Ha?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Do not shun me, + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>From kingly <i>Ptolomy</i> I bring this present,</p> + + <p>The Crown, and sweat of thy <i>Pharsalian</i> + labour:</p> + + <p>The goal and mark of high ambitious honour.</p> + + <p>Before thy victory had no name, + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page318" + id="page318"></a>[pg 318]</span> + + <p>Thy travel and thy loss of blood, no recompence,</p> + + <p>Thou dreamst of being worthy, and of war;</p> + + <p>And all thy furious conflicts were but slumbers,</p> + + <p>Here they take life: here they inherit honour,</p> + + <p>Grow fixt, and shoot up everlasting triumphs:</p> + + <p>Take it, and look upon thy humble servant,</p> + + <p>With noble eyes look on the Princely + <i>Ptolomy</i>,</p> + + <p>That offers with this head (most mighty + <i>Cæsar</i>)</p> + + <p>What thou would'st once have given for it, all + <i>Egypt</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Nor do not question it (most + royal Conquerour)</p> + + <p>Nor dis-esteem the benefit that meets thee,</p> + + <p>Because 'tis easily got, it comes the safer:</p> + + <p>Yet let me tell thee (most imperious + <i>Cæsar</i>)</p> + + <p>Though he oppos'd no strength of Swords to win + this,</p> + + <p>Nor labour'd through no showres of darts, and + lances:</p> + + <p>Yet here he found a fort, that faced him + strongly,</p> + + <p>An inward war: he was his Grand-sires Guest;</p> + + <p>Friend to his Father, and when he was expell'd</p> + + <p>And beaten from this Kingdom by strong hand,</p> + + <p>And had none left him, to restore his honour,</p> + + <p>No hope to find a friend, in such a misery;</p> + + <p>Then in stept <i>Pompey</i>; took his feeble + fortune:</p> + + <p>Strengthen'd, and cherish'd it, and set it right + again,</p> + + <p>This was a love to <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sceva.</i> Give me, hate, Gods.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> This <i>Cæsar</i> may account + a little wicked,</p> + + <p>But yet remember, if thine own hands, + Conquerour,</p> + + <p>Had fallen upon him, what it had been then?</p> + + <p>If thine own sword had touch'd his throat, what that + way!</p> + + <p>He was thy Son in Law, there to be tainted,</p> + + <p>Had been most terrible: let the worst be + render'd,</p> + + <p>We have deserv'd for keeping thy hands innocent.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> Oh <i>Sceva, Sceva</i>, see + that head: see Captains,</p> + + <p>The head of godlike <i>Pompey</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sceva.</i> He was basely ruin'd,</p> + + <p>But let the Gods be griev'd that suffer'd it,</p> + + <p>And be you Cæsar—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> Oh thou Conquerour,</p> + + <p>Thou glory of the world once, now the pity:</p> + + <p>Thou awe of Nations, wherefore didst thou fall + thus?</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page319" + id="page319"></a>[pg 319]</span> + + <p>What poor fate follow'd thee, and pluckt thee on</p> + + <p>To trust thy sacred life to an <i>Egyptian</i>;</p> + + <p>The life and light of <i>Rome</i>, to a blind + stranger,</p> + + <p>That honorable war ne'r taught a nobleness,</p> + + <p>Nor worthy circumstance shew'd what a man was,</p> + + <p>That never heard thy name sung, but in banquets;</p> + + <p>And loose lascivious pleasures? to a Boy,</p> + + <p>That had no faith to comprehend thy greatness,</p> + + <p>No study of thy life to know thy goodness;</p> + + <p>And leave thy Nation, nay, thy noble friend,</p> + + <p>Leave him (distrusted) that in tears falls with + thee?</p> + + <p>(In soft relenting tears) hear me (great + <i>Pompey</i>)</p> + + <p>(If thy great spirit can hear) I must task thee:</p> + + <p>Thou hast most unnobly rob'd me of my victory,</p> + + <p>My love, and mercy.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> O how brave these tears + shew!</p> + + <p>How excellent is sorrow in an Enemy!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Glory appears not greater + than this goodness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> <i>Egyptians</i>, dare you + think your high <i>Pyramides</i>,</p> + + <p>Built to out-dare the Sun, as you suppose,</p> + + <p>Where your unworthy Kings lye rak'd in ashes,</p> + + <p>Are monuments fit for him? no, (brood of + <i>Nilus</i>)</p> + + <p>Nothing can cover his high fame, but Heaven;</p> + + <p>No <i>Pyramides</i> set off his memories,</p> + + <p>But the eternal substance of his greatness</p> + + <p>To which I leave him: take the head away,</p> + + <p>And (with the body) give it noble burial,</p> + + <p>Your Earth shall now be bless'd to hold a + <i>Roman</i>,</p> + + <p>Whose braverys all the worlds-Earth cannot + ballance.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> If thou bee'st thus loving, I + shall honour thee,</p> + + <p>But great men may dissemble, 'tis held possible,</p> + + <p>And be right glad of what they seem to weep for,</p> + + <p>There are such kind of Philosophers; now do I + wonder</p> + + <p>How he would look if <i>Pompey</i> were alive + again,</p> + + <p>But how he would set his face?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> You look now, King,</p> + + <p>And you that have been Agents in this glory,</p> + + <p>For our especial favour?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> We desire it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> And doubtless you expect + rewards.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page320" + id="page320"></a>[pg 320]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sceva</i>. Let me give 'em:</p> + + <p>I'le give 'em such as nature never dreamt of,</p> + + <p>I'le beat him and his Agents (in a morter)</p> + + <p>Into one man, and that one man I'le bake then.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Peace: I forgive you all, + that's recompence:</p> + + <p>You are young, and ignorant, that pleads your + pardon,</p> + + <p>And fear it may be more than hate provok'd ye,</p> + + <p>Your Ministers, I must think, wanted judgment,</p> + + <p>And so they err'd: I am bountiful to think this;</p> + + <p>Believe me most bountiful; be you most thankful,</p> + + <p>That bounty share amongst ye: if I knew</p> + + <p>What to send you for a present, King of + <i>Egypt</i>,</p> + + <p>(I mean a head of equal reputation</p> + + <p>And that you lov'd) though it were your brightest + Sisters,</p> + + <p>(But her you hate) I would not be behind ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Hear me, (Great + <i>Cæsar</i>.)</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> I have heard too much,</p> + + <p>And study not with smooth shews to invade</p> + + <p>My noble Mind as you have done my Conquest.</p> + + <p>Ye are poor and open: I must tell ye roundly,</p> + + <p>That Man that could not recompence the Benefits,</p> + + <p>The great and bounteous services of + <i>Pompey</i>,</p> + + <p>Can never dote upon the Name of <i>Cæsar</i>;</p> + + <p>Though I had hated <i>Pompey</i>, and allow'd his + ruine,</p> + + <p>[I gave you no commission to performe it:]</p> + + <p>Hasty to please in Blood are seldome trusty;</p> + + <p>And but I stand inviron'd with my Victories,</p> + + <p>My Fortune never failing to befriend me,</p> + + <p>My noble strengths, and friends about my Person,</p> + + <p>I durst not try ye, nor expect: a Courtesie,</p> + + <p>Above the pious love you shew'd to + <i>Pompey</i>.</p> + + <p>You have found me merciful in arguing with you;</p> + + <p>Swords, Hangmen, Fires, Destructions of all + natures,</p> + + <p>Demolishments of Kingdoms, and whole Ruines</p> + + <p>Are wont to be my Orators; turn to tears,</p> + + <p>You wretched and poor seeds of Sun-burnt + <i>Egypt</i>,</p> + + <p>And now you have found the nature of a + Conquerour,</p> + + <p>That you cannot decline with all your + flatteries,</p> + + <p>That where the day gives light will be himself + still,</p> + + <p>Know how to meet his Worth with humane + Courtesies,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page321" + id="page321"></a>[pg 321]</span> + + <p>Go, and embalm those bones of that great + Souldier;</p> + + <p>Howl round about his Pile, fling on your Spices,</p> + + <p>Make a <i>Sabæan</i> Bed, and place this Phoenix</p> + + <p>Where the hot Sun may emulate his Vertues,</p> + + <p>And draw another <i>Pompey</i> from his ashes</p> + + <p>Divinely great, and fix him 'mongst the + Worthies.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> We will do all.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> You have rob'd him of those + tears</p> + + <p>His Kindred and his Friends kept sacred for him;</p> + + <p>The Virgins of their Funeral Lamentations:</p> + + <p>And that kind Earth that thought to cover him,</p> + + <p>(His Countries Earth) will cry out 'gainst your + Cruelty,</p> + + <p>And weep unto the Ocean for revenge,</p> + + <p>Till <i>Nilus</i> raise his seven heads and devour + ye;</p> + + <p>My grief has stopt the rest: when <i>Pompey</i> + liv'd</p> + + <p>He us'd you nobly, now he is dead use him so. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Now, where's your + confidence? your aim (<i>Photinus</i>)</p> + + <p>The Oracles, and fair Favours from the + Conquerour</p> + + <p>You rung into mine Ears? how stand I now?</p> + + <p>You see the tempest of his stern displeasure,</p> + + <p>The death of him you urged a Sacrifice</p> + + <p>To stop his Rage, presaging a full ruine;</p> + + <p>Where are your Counsels now?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Acho.</i> I told you, Sir,</p> + + <p>(And told the truth) what danger would flye + after;</p> + + <p>And though an Enemy, I satisfied you</p> + + <p>He was a <i>Roman</i>, and the top of Honour;</p> + + <p>And howsoever this might please Great + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>I told ye that the foulness of his Death,</p> + + <p>The impious baseness—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Peace, you are a Fool,</p> + + <p>Men of deep ends must tread as deep ways to 'em;</p> + + <p><i>Cæsar</i> I know is pleas'd, and for all his + sorrows</p> + + <p>(Which are put on for forms and meer + dissemblings)</p> + + <p>I am confident he's glad; to have told ye so,</p> + + <p>And thank ye outwardly, had been too open,</p> + + <p>And taken from the Wisedom of a Conquerour.</p> + + <p>Be confident and proud ye have done this + service;</p> + + <p>Ye have deserv'd, and ye will find it highly:</p> + + <p>Make bold use of this benefit, and be + sure</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page322" + id="page322"></a>[pg 322]</span> + + <p>You keep your Sister, (the high-soul'd + Cleopatra)</p> + + <p>Both close and short enough, she may not see + him;</p> + + <p>The rest, if I may counsel, Sir—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Do all;</p> + + <p>For in thy faithful service rests my safety. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENE II.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Septimius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Here's a strange alteration + in the Court;</p> + + <p>Mens Faces are of other setts and motions,</p> + + <p>Their minds of subtler stuff; I pass by now</p> + + <p>As though I were a Rascal, no man knows me,</p> + + <p>No Eye looks after; as I were a Plague</p> + + <p>Their doors shut close against me; and I wondred + at</p> + + <p>Because I have done a meritorious Murther;</p> + + <p>Because I have pleas'd the Time, does the Time + plague me?</p> + + <p>I have known the day they would have hug'd me for + it,</p> + + <p>For a less stroke than this have done me + Reverence;</p> + + <p>Open'd their Hearts and secret Closets to me,</p> + + <p>Their Purses, and their Pleasures, and bid me + wallow.</p> + + <p>I now perceive the great Thieves eat the less,</p> + + <p>And the huge Leviathans of Villany</p> + + <p>Sup up the merits, nay the men and all</p> + + <p>That do them service, and spowt 'em out again</p> + + <p>Into the air, as thin and unregarded</p> + + <p>As drops of Water that are lost i'th' Ocean:</p> + + <p>I was lov'd once for swearing, and for drinking,</p> + + <p>And for other principal Qualities that became + me,</p> + + <p>Now a foolish unthankful Murther has undone me,</p> + + <p>If my Lord <i>Photinus</i> be not merciful</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Photinus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>That set me on; And he comes, now Fortune.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Cæsars unthankfulness a + little stirs me,</p> + + <p>A little frets my bloud; take heed, proud + <i>Roman</i>,</p> + + <p>Provoke me not, stir not mine anger farther;</p> + + <p>I may find out a way unto thy life too,</p> + + <p>(Though arm'd in all thy Victories) and seize + it.</p> + + <p>A Conquerour has a heart, and I may hit it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept</i>. May it please your + Lordship?</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page323" + id="page323"></a>[pg 323]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> O <i>Septimius</i>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Your [Lordship] knows my + wrongs.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Wrongs?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Yes, my Lord,</p> + + <p>How the Captain of the Guard, <i>Achillas</i>, + slights me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Think better of him, he has + much befriended thee,</p> + + <p>Shew'd thee much love in taking the head from + thee.</p> + + <p>The times are alter'd (Souldier) <i>Cæsar's</i> + angry,</p> + + <p>And our design to please him lost and perish'd;</p> + + <p>Be glad thou art unnam'd, 'tis not worth the + owning;</p> + + <p>Yet, that thou maist be useful—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Yes, my Lord,</p> + + <p>I shall be ready.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> For I may employ thee</p> + + <p>To take a rub or two out of my way,</p> + + <p>As time shall serve, say that it be a Brother?</p> + + <p>Or a hard Father?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> 'Tis most necessary,</p> + + <p>A Mother, or a Sister, or whom you please, Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Or to betray a noble + Friend?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> 'Tis all one.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I know thou wilt stir for + Gold.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> 'Tis all my motion.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> There, take that for thy + service, and farewel;</p> + + <p>I have greater business now.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> I am still your own, + Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> One thing I charge thee, see + me no more, <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>Unless I send. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> I shall observe your + hour.</p> + + <p>So, this brings something in the mouth, some + savour;</p> + + <p>This is the Lord I serve, the Power I worship,</p> + + <p>My Friends, Allies, and here lies my Allegiance.</p> + + <p>Let People talk as they please of my rudeness,</p> + + <p>And shun me for my deed; bring but this to 'em,</p> + + <p>(Let me be damn'd for blood) yet still I am + honourable,</p> + + <p>This God creates new tongues, and new + affections;</p> + + <p>And though I had kill'd my Father, give me Gold</p> + + <p>I'll make men swear I have done a pious + Sacrifice;</p> + + <p>Now I will out-brave all; make all my Servants,</p> + + <p>And my brave deed shall be writ in Wine, for + vertuous. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page324" + id="page324"></a>[pg 324]</span> + + <h3>SCENE III.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Keep strong Guards, and with + wary eyes (my friends)</p> + + <p>There is no trusting to these base + <i>Egyptians</i>;</p> + + <p>They that are false to pious benefits,</p> + + <p>And make compell'd necessities their faiths</p> + + <p>Are Traitors to the gods.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> We'll call ashore</p> + + <p>A Legion of the best.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Not a Man, <i>Antony</i>,</p> + + <p>That were to shew our fears, and dim our + greatness:</p> + + <p>No, 'tis enough my Name's ashore.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Too much too,</p> + + <p>A sleeping <i>Cæsar</i> is enough to shake them;</p> + + <p>There are some two or three malicious Rascals</p> + + <p>Train'd up in Villany, besides that + <i>Cerberus</i></p> + + <p>That <i>Roman</i> Dog, that lick'd the blood of + <i>Pompey</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> 'Tis strange, a <i>Roman</i> + Souldier?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> You are cozen'd,</p> + + <p>There be of us as be of all other Nations,</p> + + <p>Villains, and Knaves; 'tis not the name contains + him,</p> + + <p>But the obedience; when that's once forgotten,</p> + + <p>And Duty flung away, then welcome Devil.</p> + + <p><i>Photinus</i> and <i>Achillas</i>, and this + Vermine</p> + + <p>That's now become a natural Crocodile</p> + + <p>Must be with care observ'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> And 'tis well counsel'd</p> + + <p>No Confidence, nor trust—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I'll trust the Sea first,</p> + + <p>When with her hollow murmurs she invites me,</p> + + <p>And clutches in her storms, as politick Lions</p> + + <p>Conceal their Claws; I'll trust the Devil first.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Go to your rests, and follow + your own Wisedoms,</p> + + <p>And leave me to my thoughts: pray no more + complement,</p> + + <p>Once more strong Watches.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> All shall be observ'd, Sir. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> I am dull and heavy, yet I + cannot sleep,</p> + + <p>How happy was I in my lawful Wars,</p> + + <p>In <i>Germany</i>, and <i>Gaul</i>, and + <i>Britanny</i></p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page325" + id="page325"></a>[pg 325]</span> + + <p>When every night with pleasure I set down</p> + + <p>What the day ministred! The sleep came sweetly:</p> + + <p>But since I undertook this home-division,</p> + + <p>This civil War, and past the <i>Rubicon</i>;</p> + + <p>What have I done that speaks an ancient + <i>Roman</i>?</p> + + <p>A good, great man? I have enter'd <i>Rome</i> by + force,</p> + + <p>And on her tender Womb (that gave me life)</p> + + <p>Let my insulting Souldiers rudely trample,</p> + + <p>The dear Veins of my Country I have open'd,</p> + + <p>And sail'd upon the torrents that flow'd from + her,</p> + + <p>The bloody streams that in their confluence</p> + + <p>Carried before 'em thousand desolations;</p> + + <p>I rob'd the Treasury, and at one gripe</p> + + <p>Snatch'd all the wealth, so many worthy triumphs</p> + + <p>Plac'd there as sacred to the Peace of + <i>Rome</i>;</p> + + <p>I raz'd <i>Massilia</i>, in my wanton anger:</p> + + <p><i>Petreius</i> and <i>Afranius</i> I defeated:</p> + + <p><i>Pompey</i> I overthrew: what did that get me?</p> + + <p>The slubber'd Name of an authoriz'd Enemy. [<i>Noise + within.</i></p> + + <p>I hear some Noise; they are the Watches sure.</p> + + <p>What Friends have I ty'd fast by these + ambitions?</p> + + <p><i>Cato</i>, the Lover of his Countries freedom,</p> + + <p>Is now past into <i>Africk</i> to affront me,</p> + + <p><i>Fuba</i> (that kill'd my friend) is up in Arms + too;</p> + + <p>The Sons of <i>Pompey</i> are Masters of the + Sea,</p> + + <p>And from the reliques of their scatter'd + faction,</p> + + <p>A new head's sprung; Say I defeat all these too;</p> + + <p>I come home crown'd an honourable Rebel.</p> + + <p>I hear the Noise still, and it still comes + nearer;</p> + + <p>Are the Guards fast? Who waits there?</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Sceva <i>with a Packet</i>, Cleopatra <i>in + it.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Are ye awake Sir?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> I'th' name of Wonder.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Nay, I am a Porter,</p> + + <p>A strong one too, or else my sides would crack, + Sir,</p> + + <p>And my sins were as weighty, I should scarce walk + with 'em.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> What hast thou there?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Ask them which stay + without,</p> + + <p>And brought it hither, your Presence I deny'd + 'em,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page326" + id="page326"></a>[pg 326]</span> + + <p>And put 'em by; took up the load my self,</p> + + <p>They say 'tis rich, and valu'd at the Kingdome,</p> + + <p>I am sure 'tis heavy; if you like to see it</p> + + <p>You may: if not, I'll give it back.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Stay <i>Sceva</i>,</p> + + <p>I would fain see it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I'll begin to work then;</p> + + <p>No doubt, to flatter ye they have sent ye + something,</p> + + <p>Of a rich value, Jewels, or some rich Treasure;</p> + + <p>May be a Rogue within to do a mischief;</p> + + <p>I pray you stand farther off, if there be + villany,</p> + + <p>Better my danger first; he shall 'scape hard + too,</p> + + <p>Ha! what art thou?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Stand farther off, good + <i>Sceva</i>,</p> + + <p>What heavenly Vision! do I wake or slumber?</p> + + <p>Farther off that hand, Friend.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> What Apparition?</p> + + <p>What Spirit have I rais'd? sure 'tis a Woman,</p> + + <p>She looks like one; now she begins to move too:</p> + + <p>A tempting Devil, o' my life; go off, + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>Bless thy self, off: a Bawd grown in mine old + days?</p> + + <p>Bawdry advanc'd upon my back? 'tis noble:</p> + + <p>Sir, if you be a Souldier come no nearer,</p> + + <p>She is sent to dispossess you of your honour,</p> + + <p>A Spunge, a Spunge to wipe away your Victories:</p> + + <p>And she would be cool'd, Sir, let the Souldiers trim + her!</p> + + <p>They'll give her that she came for, and dispatch + her;</p> + + <p>Be loyal to your self. Thou damned Woman,</p> + + <p>Dost thou come hither with thy flourishes,</p> + + <p>Thy flaunts, and faces to abuse mens manners?</p> + + <p>And am I made the instrument of Bawdry?</p> + + <p>I'll find a Lover for ye, one that shall hug ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Hold, on thy life, and be + more temperate,</p> + + <p>Thou Beast.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Thou Beast?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Could'st thou be so + inhumane,</p> + + <p>So far from noble Men, to draw thy Weapon</p> + + <p>Upon a thing divine?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Divine, or humane,</p> + + <p>They are never better pleas'd, nor more at hearts + ease,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page327" + id="page327"></a>[pg 327]</span> + + <p>Than when we draw with full intent upon 'em.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Move this way (Lady)</p> + + <p>'Pray ye let me speak to ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> And Woman, you had best + stand.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> By the gods,</p> + + <p>But that I see her here, and hope her mortal,</p> + + <p>I should imagine some celestial sweetness,</p> + + <p>The treasure of soft love.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Oh, this sounds mangily,</p> + + <p>Poorly, and scurvily in a Souldiers mouth:</p> + + <p>You had best be troubled with the Tooth-ach too,</p> + + <p>For Lovers ever are, and let your Nose drop</p> + + <p>That your celestial Beauty may befriend ye;</p> + + <p>At these years do you learn to be fantastical?</p> + + <p>After so many bloody fields, a Fool?</p> + + <p>She brings her Bed along too, she'll lose no + time,</p> + + <p>Carries her Litter to lye soft, do you see that?</p> + + <p>Invites ye like a Gamester: note that impudence,</p> + + <p>For shame reflect upon your self, your honour,</p> + + <p>Look back into your noble parts, and blush:</p> + + <p>Let not the dear sweat of the hot + <i>Pharsalia</i>,</p> + + <p>Mingle with base <i>Embraces</i>; am I he</p> + + <p>That have receiv'd so many wounds for + <i>Cæsar</i>?</p> + + <p>Upon my Target groves of darts still growing?</p> + + <p>Have I endur'd all hungers, colds, distresses,</p> + + <p>And (as I had been bred that Iron that arm'd me)</p> + + <p>Stood out all weathers, now to curse my fortune?</p> + + <p>To ban the blood I lost for such a General?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Offend no more: be + gone.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I will, and leave ye,</p> + + <p>Leave ye to womens wars, that will proclaim ye:</p> + + <p>You'l conquer <i>Rome</i> now, and the Capitol</p> + + <p>With Fans, and Looking-glasses, farewel Cæsar.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Now I am private Sir, I dare + speak to ye:</p> + + <p>But thus low first, for as a God I honour ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Lower you'l be anon.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Away.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> And privater,</p> + + <p>For that you covet all. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Tempt me no + farther.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page328" + id="page328"></a>[pg 328]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Contemn me not, because I + kneel thus, <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>I am a Queen, and coheir to this country,</p> + + <p>The Sister to the mighty <i>Ptolomy</i>,</p> + + <p>Yet one distress'd, that flyes unto thy justice,</p> + + <p>One that layes sacred hold on thy protection</p> + + <p>As on an holy Altar, to preserve me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Speak Queen of beauty, and + stand up.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I dare not,</p> + + <p>'Till I have found that favour in thine eyes,</p> + + <p>That godlike great humanity to help me,</p> + + <p>Thus, to thy knees must I grow (sacred + <i>Cæsar</i>,)</p> + + <p>And if it be not in thy will, to right me,</p> + + <p>And raise me like a Queen from my sad ruines,</p> + + <p>If these soft tears cannot sink to thy pity,</p> + + <p>And waken with their murmurs thy compassions;</p> + + <p>Yet for thy nobleness, for vertues sake,</p> + + <p>And if thou beest a man, for despis'd beauty,</p> + + <p>For honourable conquest, which thou doat'st on,</p> + + <p>Let not those cankers of this flourishing + Kingdom,</p> + + <p><i>Photinus</i>, and <i>Achillas</i>, (the one an + Eunuch,</p> + + <p>The other a base bondman) thus raign over me.</p> + + <p>Seize my inheritance, and leave my Brother</p> + + <p>Nothing of what he should be, but the Title,</p> + + <p>As thou art wonder of the world.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Stand up then</p> + + <p>And be a Queen, this hand shall give it to ye,</p> + + <p>Or choose a greater name, worthy my bounty:</p> + + <p>A common love makes Queens: choose to be + worshipped,</p> + + <p>To be divinely great, and I dare promise it;</p> + + <p>A suitor of your sort, and blessed sweetness,</p> + + <p>That hath adventur'd thus to see great + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>Must never be denied, you have found a patron</p> + + <p>That dare not in his private honour suffer</p> + + <p>So great a blemish to the Heaven of beauty:</p> + + <p>The God of love would clap his angry wings,</p> + + <p>And from his singing bow let flye those arrows</p> + + <p>Headed with burning griefs, and pining sorrows,</p> + + <p>Should I neglect your cause, would make me + monstrous,</p> + + <p>To whom and to your service I devote me.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page329" + id="page329"></a>[pg 329]</span> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Sceva. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> He is my conquest now, and + so I'le work him,</p> + + <p>The conquerour of the world will I lead captive.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Still with this woman? + tilting still with Babies?</p> + + <p>As you are honest think the Enemy,</p> + + <p>Some valiant Foe indeed now charging on ye:</p> + + <p>Ready to break your ranks, and fling + these—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Hear me,</p> + + <p>But tell me true, if thou hadst such a treasure,</p> + + <p>(And as thou art a Souldier, do not flatter me)</p> + + <p>Such a bright gem, brought to thee, wouldst thou + not</p> + + <p>Most greedily accept?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Not as an Emperour,</p> + + <p>A man that first should rule himself, then + others;</p> + + <p>As a poor hungry Souldier, I might bite, Sir,</p> + + <p>Yet that's a weakness too: hear me, thou + Tempter:</p> + + <p>And hear thou <i>Cæsar</i> too, for it concerns + thee,</p> + + <p>And if thy flesh be deaf, yet let thine honour,</p> + + <p>The soul of a commander, give ear to me,</p> + + <p>Thou wanton bane of war, thou guilded Lethargy,</p> + + <p>In whose embraces, ease (the rust of Arms)</p> + + <p>And pleasure, (that makes Souldiers poor) + inhabites.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Fye, thou blasphem'st.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I do, when she is a + goddess.</p> + + <p>Thou melter of strong minds, dar'st thou presume</p> + + <p>To smother all his triumphs, with thy vanities,</p> + + <p>And tye him like a slave, to thy proud beauties?</p> + + <p>To thy imperious looks? that Kings have follow'd</p> + + <p>Proud of their chains? have waited on? I shame Sir. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Alas thou art rather mad: + take thy rest <i>Sceva</i>,</p> + + <p>Thy duty makes thee erre, but I forgive thee:</p> + + <p>Go, go I say, shew me no disobedience:</p> + + <p>'Tis well, farewel, the day will break dear + Lady,</p> + + <p>My Souldiers will come in; please you retire,</p> + + <p>And think upon your servant.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Pray you Sir, know me,</p> + + <p>And what I am.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. The greater, I more love + ye,</p> + + <p>And you must know me + too.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page330" + id="page330"></a>[pg 330]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> So far as modesty,</p> + + <p>And majesty gives leave Sir, ye are too violent.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. You are too cold to my + desires.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Swear to me,</p> + + <p>And by your self (for I hold that oath sacred)</p> + + <p>You will right me as a Queen—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. These lips be witness,</p> + + <p>And if I break that oath—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> You make me blush Sir,</p> + + <p>And in that blush interpret me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. I will do,</p> + + <p>Come let's go in, and blush again: this one + word,</p> + + <p>You shall believe.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I must, you are a + conquerour. [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h2><i>Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.</i></h2> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Photinus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Good Sir, but hear.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> No more, you have undone + me,</p> + + <p>That, that I hourly fear'd, is fain upon me,</p> + + <p>And heavily, and deadly.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Hear a remedy.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> A remedy now the disease is + ulcerous?</p> + + <p>And has infected all? your secure negligence</p> + + <p>Has broke through all the hopes I have, and ruin'd + me:</p> + + <p>My Sister is with <i>Cæsar</i>, in his chamber,</p> + + <p>All night she has been with him; and no doubt</p> + + <p>Much to her honour.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Would that were the worst, + Sir,</p> + + <p>That will repair it self: but I fear mainly,</p> + + <p>She has made her peace with <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> 'Tis most likely,</p> + + <p>And what am I then?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> 'Plague upon that Rascal</p> + + <p><i>Apollod[or]us</i>, under whose command,</p> + + <p>Under whose eye—</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Achillas. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Curse on you all, ye are + wretches.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page331" + id="page331"></a>[pg 331]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> 'Twas providently done, + <i>Achillas</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Pardon me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Your guards were rarely wise, + and wondrous watchfull.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> I could not help it, if my + life had lain for't,</p> + + <p>Alas, who would suspect a pack of bedding,</p> + + <p>Or a small Truss of houshold furniture?</p> + + <p>And as they said, for Cæsars use: or who durst</p> + + <p>(Being for his private chamber) seek to stop it?</p> + + <p>I was abus'd.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Achoreus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> 'Tis no hour now for + anger:</p> + + <p>No wisdom to debate with fruitless choler,</p> + + <p>Let us consider timely what we must do,</p> + + <p>Since she is flown to his protection,</p> + + <p>From whom we have no power to sever her,</p> + + <p>Nor force conditions—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Speak (good + <i>Achoreus</i>)</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Let indirect and crooked + counsels vanish,</p> + + <p>And straight, and fair directions—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Speak your mind Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Let us choose <i>Cæsar</i>, + (and endear him to us,)</p> + + <p>An Arbitrator in all differences</p> + + <p>Betwixt you, and your Sister; this is safe now:</p> + + <p>And will shew off, most honourable.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Base,</p> + + <p>Most base and poor; a servile, cold submission:</p> + + <p>Hear me, and pluck your hearts up, like stout + Counsellours,</p> + + <p>Since we are sensible this <i>Cæsar</i> loathes + us,</p> + + <p>And have begun our fortune with great Pompey,</p> + + <p>Be of my mind.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> 'Tis most uncomely + spoken,</p> + + <p>And if I say most bloodily, I lye not:</p> + + <p>The law of hospitality it poysons,</p> + + <p>And calls the Gods in question that dwell in us,</p> + + <p>Be wise O King.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> I will be: go my + counsellour,</p> + + <p>To <i>Cæsar</i> go, and do my humble service:</p> + + <p>To my fair Sister my commends negotiate,</p> + + <p>And here I ratifie what e're thou treat'st + on.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page332" + id="page332"></a>[pg 332]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Crown'd with fair peace, I + go. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> My love go with thee,</p> + + <p>And from my love go you, you cruel vipers:</p> + + <p>You shall know now I am no ward, <i>Photinus</i>. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> This for our service?</p> + + <p>Princes do their pleasures,</p> + + <p>And they that serve obey in all disgraces:</p> + + <p>The lowest we can fall to, is our graves,</p> + + <p>There we shall know no diffrence: heark + <i>Achillas</i>,</p> + + <p>I may do something yet, when times are ripe,</p> + + <p>To tell this raw unthankful! King.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> <i>Photinus</i>,</p> + + <p>What e're it be I shall make one: and zealously:</p> + + <p>For better dye attempting something nobly,</p> + + <p>Than fall disgraced.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Thou lov'st me and I thank + thee. [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENA II.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Antony, Dolabella, Sceva. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Nay there's no rowsing him: + he is bewitch'd sure,</p> + + <p>His noble blood curdled, and cold within him;</p> + + <p>Grown now a womans warriour.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> And a tall one:</p> + + <p>Studies her fortifications, and her breaches,</p> + + <p>And how he may advance his ram to batter</p> + + <p>The Bullwork of her chastitie.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Be not too angry,</p> + + <p>For by this light, the woman's a rare woman,</p> + + <p>A Lady of that catching youth, and beauty,</p> + + <p>That unmatch'd sweetness—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> But why should he be fool'd + so?</p> + + <p>Let her be what she will, why should his wisdom,</p> + + <p>His age, and honour—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Say it were your own + case,</p> + + <p>Or mine, or any mans, that has heat in him:</p> + + <p>'Tis true at this time when he has no promise</p> + + <p>Of more security than his sword can cut through,</p> + + <p>I do not hold it so discreet: but a good face, + Gentlemen,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page333" + id="page333"></a>[pg 333]</span> + + <p>And eyes that are the winningst Orators:</p> + + <p>A youth that opens like perpetual spring,</p> + + <p>And to all these, a tongue that can deliver</p> + + <p>The Oracles of Love—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I would you had her,</p> + + <p>With all her Oracles, and Miracles,</p> + + <p>She were fitter for your turn.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Would I had, + <i>Sceva</i>,</p> + + <p>With all her faults too: let me alone to mend + 'em,</p> + + <p>O'that condition I made thee mine heir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I had rather have your black + horse, than your harlots.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> <i>Cæsar</i> writes + <i>Sonnetts</i> now, the sound of war</p> + + <p>Is grown too boystrous for his mouth: he sighs + too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> And learns to fiddle most + melodiously,</p> + + <p>And sings, 'twould make your ears prick up, to hear + him Gent.</p> + + <p>Shortly she'l make him spin: and 'tis thought</p> + + <p>He will prove an admirable maker of Bonelace,</p> + + <p>And what a rare gift will that be in a General!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> I would he could abstain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> She is a witch sure,</p> + + <p>And works upon him with some damn'd inchantment.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> How cunning she will carry + her behaviours,</p> + + <p>And set her countenance in a thousand postures,</p> + + <p>To catch her ends!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> She will be sick, well, + sullen,</p> + + <p>Merry, coy, over-joy'd, and seem to dye</p> + + <p>All in one half hour, to make an asse of him:</p> + + <p>I make no doubt she will be drunk too damnably,</p> + + <p>And in her drink will fight, then she fits him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> That thou shouldst bring her + in!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> 'Twas my blind fortune,</p> + + <p>My Souldiers told me, by the weight 'twas + wicked:</p> + + <p>Would I had carried <i>Milo's</i> Bull a + furlong,</p> + + <p>When I brought in this Cow-Calf: he has advanced + me</p> + + <p>From an old Souldier, to a bawd of memory:</p> + + <p>O, that the Sons of <i>Pompey</i> were behind + him,</p> + + <p>The honour'd <i>Cato</i>, and fierce <i>Juba</i> + with 'em,</p> + + <p>That they might whip him from his whore, and rowze + him:</p> + + <p>That their fierce Trumpets, from his wanton + trances,</p> + + <p>Might shake him like an Earth-quake.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page334" + id="page334"></a>[pg 334]</span> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Septimius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> What's this fellow?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Why, a brave fellow, if we + judge men by their clothes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> By my faith he is brave + indeed: he's no commander?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Yes, he has a <i>Roman</i> + face, he has been at fair wars</p> + + <p>And plenteous too, and rich, his Trappings shew + it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> And they will not know me + now, they'l never know me.</p> + + <p>Who dare blush now at my acquaintance? ha?</p> + + <p>Am I not totally a span-new Gallant,</p> + + <p>Fit for the choycest eyes? have I not gold?</p> + + <p>The friendship of the world? if they shun me now</p> + + <p>(Though I were the arrantest rogue, as I am well + forward)</p> + + <p>Mine own curse, and the Devils too light on me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Is't not + <i>Septimius</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Yes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> He that kill'd + <i>Pompey</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> The same Dog, Scab; that + guilded botch, that rascal.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> How glorious villany appears + in <i>Egypt</i>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Gallants, and Souldiers, sure + they do admire me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Stand further off, thou + stinkest.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> A likely matter:</p> + + <p>These Cloaths smell mustily, do they not, + Gallants?</p> + + <p>They stink, they stink, alas poor things, + contemptible.</p> + + <p>By all the Gods in <i>Egypt</i>, the perfumes</p> + + <p>That went to trimming these cloathes, cost + me—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Thou stinkest still.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> The powdering of this head + too—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> If thou hast it,</p> + + <p>I'le tell thee all the Gumms in sweet + <i>Arabia</i></p> + + <p>Are not sufficient, were they burnt about thee,</p> + + <p>To purge the scent of a rank Rascal from thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> I smell him now: fie, how the + Knave perfumes him,</p> + + <p>How strong he scents of Traitor!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> You had an ill Millener,</p> + + <p>He laid too much of the Gum of Ingratitude</p> + + <p>Upon your Coat, you should have washt off that + Sir,</p> + + <p>Fie, how it choaks! too little of your loyaltie,</p> + + <p>Your honesty, your faith, that are pure Ambers;</p> + + <p>I smell the rotten smell of a hired + Coward,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page335" + id="page335"></a>[pg 335]</span> + + <p>A dead Dog is sweeter.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Ye are merry Gentlemen,</p> + + <p>And by my troth, such harmless mirth takes me + too,</p> + + <p>You speak like good blunt Souldiers; and 'tis well + enough:</p> + + <p>But did you live at Court, as I do, Gallants,</p> + + <p>You would refine, and learn an apter language;</p> + + <p>I have done ye simple service on your + <i>Pompey</i>,</p> + + <p>You might have lookt him yet this brace of twelve + months</p> + + <p>And hunted after him, like foundred Beagles,</p> + + <p>Had not this fortunate hand—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> He brags on't too:</p> + + <p>By the good Gods, rejoyces in't; thou wretch</p> + + <p>Thou most contemptible Slave.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Dog, mangy Mongrel,</p> + + <p>Thou murdring mischief, in the shape of Souldier</p> + + <p>To make all Souldiers hatefull; thou disease</p> + + <p>That nothing but the Gallows can give ease + to.—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Thou art so impudent, that I + admire thee,</p> + + <p>And know not what to say.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I know your anger</p> + + <p>And why you prate thus: I have found your + melancholy:</p> + + <p>Ye all want mony, and you are liberal Captains,</p> + + <p>And in this want will talk a little desperately:</p> + + <p>Here's gold, come share; I love a brave + Commander:</p> + + <p>And be not peevish, do as <i>Cæsar</i> does:</p> + + <p>He's merry with his wench now, be you jovial,</p> + + <p>And let's all laugh and drink: would he have + partners?</p> + + <p>I do consider all your wants, and weigh 'em,</p> + + <p>He has the Mistris, you shall have the maids,</p> + + <p>I'le bring 'em to ye, to your arms.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> I blush,</p> + + <p>All over me, I blush, and sweat to hear him:</p> + + <p>Upon my conscience, if my arms were on now</p> + + <p>Through them I should blush too: pray ye let's be + walking.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Yes, yes: but e're we goe, + I'le leave this lesson,</p> + + <p>And let him study it: first Rogue, then Pander,</p> + + <p>Next Devil that will be; get thee from mens + presence,</p> + + <p>And where the name of Souldier has been heard of</p> + + <p>Be sure thou live not: to some hungry desert</p> + + <p>Where thou canst meet with nothing but thy + conscience,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page336" + id="page336"></a>[pg 336]</span> + + <p>And that in all the shapes of all thy + vill[anie]s</p> + + <p>Attend thee still, where bruit Beasts will abhor + thee,</p> + + <p>And even the Sun will shame to give thee light,</p> + + <p>Goe hide thy head: or if thou think'st it fitter</p> + + <p>Goe hang thy self.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Hark to that clause.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> And that speedily,</p> + + <p>That nature may be eas'd of such a Monster. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Yet all this moves not me: + nor reflects on me:</p> + + <p>I keep my gold still, and my confidence,</p> + + <p>Their want of breeding makes these fellows + murmur,</p> + + <p>Rude valors, so I let 'em pass; rude honours:</p> + + <p>There is a wench yet, that I know, affects me</p> + + <p>And company for a King: a young plump villain,</p> + + <p>That when she sees this gold, she'l leap upon + me.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Eros. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And here she comes: I am sure of her at + midnight,</p> + + <p>My pretty <i>Eros</i> welcom.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. I have business.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Above my love, thou canst + not.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. Yes indeed Sir,</p> + + <p>Far, far above.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Why, why so coy? 'pray ye + tell me</p> + + <p>We are alone.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. I am much asham'd we are + so.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> You want a new Gown now, + & a handsom Petticoat,</p> + + <p>A Skarf, and some odd toyes: I have gold here + ready,</p> + + <p>Thou shal[t] have any thing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. I want your absence:</p> + + <p>Keep on your way, I care not for your company.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> How? how? you are very short: + do you know me <i>Eros</i>?</p> + + <p>And what I have been to ye?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. Yes I know ye:</p> + + <p>And I hope I shall forget ye: Whilst you were + honest</p> + + <p>I lov'd ye too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Honest? come prethee kiss + me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. I kiss no knaves, no + Murderers, no Beasts,</p> + + <p>No base betrayers of those men that fed 'em,</p> + + <p>I hate their looks; and though I may be + wanton,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page337" + id="page337"></a>[pg 337]</span> + + <p>I scorn to nourish it with bloody purchase,</p> + + <p>Purchase so foully got; I pray ye unhand me</p> + + <p>I had rather touch the plague, than one + unworthy:</p> + + <p>Goe seek some Mistris that a horse may marry,</p> + + <p>And keep her company, she is too good for ye. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Marry this goes near; now I + perceive I am hatefull,</p> + + <p>When this light stuff can distinguish, it grows + dangerous,</p> + + <p>For mony, seldom they refuse a Leper:</p> + + <p>But sure I am more odious, more diseas'd too:</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter three lame</i> Souldiers. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It sits cold here; what are these? three poor + Souldiers?</p> + + <p>Both poor and lame: their misery may make 'em</p> + + <p>A little look upon me, and adore me,</p> + + <p>If these will keep me company, I am made yet.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> The pleasure <i>Cæsar</i> + sleeps in, makes us miserable,</p> + + <p>We are forgot, our maims and dangers laugh'd at;</p> + + <p>He Banquets, and we beg.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> He was not wont</p> + + <p>To let poor Souldiers that have spent their + Fortunes,</p> + + <p>Their Bloods, and limbs, walk up and down like + vagabonds.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Save ye good Souldiers: good + poor men, heaven help ye:</p> + + <p>You have born the brunt of war, and shew the + story,</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> Some new commander + sure.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> You look (my good + friends)</p> + + <p>By your thin faces, as you would be Suitors.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> To <i>Cæsar</i>, for our + means, Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> And 'tis fit Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sol.</i> We are poor men, and long + forgot.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I grieve for it:</p> + + <p>Good Souldiers should have good rewards, and + favours,</p> + + <p>I'le give up your petitions, for I pity ye,</p> + + <p>And freely speak to <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>All</i>. O we honour ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> A good man sure ye are: the + Gods preserve ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> And to relieve your wants the + while, hold Soldiers,</p> + + <p>Nay 'tis no dream: 'tis good gold: take it + freely,</p> + + <p>'Twill keep ye in good heart.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> Now goodness quit ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I'le be a friend to your + afflictions,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page338" + id="page338"></a>[pg 338]</span> + + <p>And eat, and drink with ye too, and we'l be + merry:</p> + + <p>And every day I'le see ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> You are a Souldier,</p> + + <p>And one sent from the Gods, I think.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I'le cloth ye,</p> + + <p>Ye are lame, and then provide good lodging for + ye:</p> + + <p>And at my Table, where no want shall meet ye.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Sceva. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>All</i>. Was never such a man.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> Dear honour'd Sir,</p> + + <p>Let us but know your name, that we may worship + ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> That we may ever + thank.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Why, call me any thing,</p> + + <p>No matter for my name, that may betray me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> A cunning thief, call him + <i>Septimius</i>, Souldiers,</p> + + <p>The villain that kill'd <i>Pompey</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>All</i>. How?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Call him the shame of men. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> O that this mony</p> + + <p>Were weight enough to break thy brains out: fling + all:</p> + + <p>And fling our curses next: let them be mortal,</p> + + <p>Out bloody wolf, dost thou come guilded over,</p> + + <p>And painted with thy charitie, to poyson us?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> I know him now: may never + Father own thee,</p> + + <p>But as a monstrous birth shun thy base memory:</p> + + <p>And if thou hadst a Mother (as I cannot</p> + + <p>Believe thou wert a natural Burden) let her womb</p> + + <p>Be curs'd of women for a bed of vipers.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sol.</i> Me thinks the ground shakes + to devour this rascal,</p> + + <p>And the kind air turns into foggs and vapours,</p> + + <p>Infectious mists, to crown his villanies.</p> + + <p>Thou maist go wander, like a thing heaven hated.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> And valiant minds hold + poysonous to remember.</p> + + <p>The Hangman will not keep thee company,</p> + + <p>He has an honourable house to thine,</p> + + <p>No, not a thief though thou couldst save his life + for't</p> + + <p>Will eat thy bread, nor one, for thirst starv'd, + drink with thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> Thou art no company for an + honest dog,</p> + + <p>And so we'l leave thee to a ditch (thy destiny.) + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page339" + id="page339"></a>[pg 339]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Contemn'd of all? and kickt + too? now I find it;</p> + + <p>My valour's fled too, with mine honesty,</p> + + <p>For since I would be knave I must be Coward:</p> + + <p>This 'tis to be a Traitor, and betrayer.</p> + + <p>What a deformity dwells round about me!</p> + + <p>How monstrous shews that man, that is + ungratefull!</p> + + <p>I am afraid the very beasts will tear me,</p> + + <p>Inspir'd with what I have done: the winds will blast + me:</p> + + <p>Now I am paid, and my reward dwells in me,</p> + + <p>The wages of my fact, my soul's opprest;</p> + + <p>Honest and noble minds, you find most rest. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENA III.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus, Achillas. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> I have commanded, and it + shall be so,</p> + + <p>A preparation I have set o' foot,</p> + + <p>Worthy the friendship and the fame of + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>My Sisters favours shall seem poor and wither'd:</p> + + <p>Nay she her self, (trim'd up in all her beautys)</p> + + <p>Compar'd to what I'le take his eyes withall,</p> + + <p>Shall be a dream.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Do you mean to shew the + glory,</p> + + <p>And wealth of <i>Egypt</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Yes: and in that lustre,</p> + + <p><i>Rome</i> shall appear in all her famous + Conquests,</p> + + <p>And all her riches of no note unto it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Now you are reconcil'd to + your fair Sister,</p> + + <p>Take heed Sir, how you step into a danger:</p> + + <p>A danger of this precipice: but note Sir,</p> + + <p>For what <i>Rome</i> ever rais'd her mighty + armies;</p> + + <p>First for ambition, then for wealth: 'tis + madness,</p> + + <p>Nay more, a secure impotence, to tempt</p> + + <p>An armed Guest: feed not an eye, that conquers,</p> + + <p>Nor teach a fortunate sword the way to be + covetous.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Ye judge amiss, and far too + wide to alter me,</p> + + <p>Yet all be ready, as I gave direction:</p> + + <p>The secret way of all our wealth appearing</p> + + <p>Newly, and handsomely: and all about it:</p> + + <p>No more disswading: 'tis my + will.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page340" + id="page340"></a>[pg 340]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> I grieve for't.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> I will dazel <i>Cæsar</i>, + with excess of glory.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I fear you'l curse your will, + we must obey ye. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENA IV.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva, <i>above.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. I wonder at the glory of + this Kingdom,</p> + + <p>And the most bounteous preparation,</p> + + <p>Still as I pass, they court me with.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sceva</i>. I'le tell ye:</p> + + <p>In <i>Gaul</i>, and <i>Germany</i>, we saw such + visions,</p> + + <p>And stood not to admire 'em, but possess 'em:</p> + + <p>When they are ours, they are worth our + admiration.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cleopatra. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> The young Queen comes: give + room.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Welcom (my dearest)</p> + + <p>Come bless my side.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sceva</i>. I marry: here's a + wonder,</p> + + <p>As she appears now, I am no true Souldier,</p> + + <p>If I be not readie to recant.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Be merry Sir,</p> + + <p>My Brother will be proud to do you honour</p> + + <p>That now appears himself.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Achoreus, Achillas, Photinus, + Apollodorus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pto.</i> Haile to great + <i>Cæsar</i></p> + + <p>My Royal Guest, first I will feast thine eyes</p> + + <p>With wealthy <i>Ægypts</i> store, and then thy + palate,</p> + + <p>And wait my self upon thee. [<i>Treasure brought + in.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. What rich Service!</p> + + <p>What mines of treasure!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> My <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>What do you admire? pray ye turn, and let me talk to + ye.</p> + + <p>Have ye forgot me Sir? how, a new object?</p> + + <p>Am I grown old o'th' sudden, <i>Cæsar</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Tell me</p> + + <p>From whence comes all this wealth?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Is your eye that + way?</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page341" + id="page341"></a>[pg 341]</span> + + <p>And all my Beauties banisht?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> I'le tell thee + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>We owe for all this wealth to the old + <i>Nilus</i>:</p> + + <p>We need no dropping rain to cheer the + husband-man,</p> + + <p>Nor Merchant that ploughs up the Sea, to seek + us;</p> + + <p>Within the wealthy womb of reverent + <i>Nilus</i>,</p> + + <p>All this is nourish'd: who to do thee honour,</p> + + <p>Comes to discover his seven Deities,</p> + + <p>(His conceal'd heads) unto thee: see with + pleasure.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. The matchless wealth of + this Land!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Come, ye shall hear me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Away: let me imagine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> How? frown on me?</p> + + <p>The eyes of <i>Cæsar</i> wrapt in storms?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. I am sorry:</p> + + <p>But let me think—</p> + </div> + </div> + + <h4><i>Mustek, SONG.</i></h4> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Isis, <i>and three Labourers.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Isis, the Goddess of this + Land,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bids thee (great Cæsar) + understand</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And mark our Customes, and first + know,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>With greedy eyes these watch the + flow</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Of plenteous Nilus: when he + comes,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>With Songs, with Daunces, Timbrels, + Drums</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>They entertain him, cut his + way,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And give his proud Heads leave to + play:</i></p> + + <p class="i4"><i>Nilus himself shall rise, and + show</i></p> + + <p class="i4"><i>His matchless wealth in + Over-flow.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h4><i>Labourers SONG.</i></h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Come let us help the reverend + Nile,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>He's very old (alas the while)</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Let us dig him easie wayes,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And prepare a thousand Playes:</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>To delight his streams let's + sing</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>A loud welcom to our Spring.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>This way let his curling Heads</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Fall into our new made + Beds.</i></p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page342" + id="page342"></a>[pg 342]</span> + + <p class="i2"><i>This way let his wanton + spawns,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Frisky and glide it o're the + Lawns.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>This way profit comes, and + gain:</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>How he tumbles here amain!</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>How his waters haste to fall</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Into our Channels! Labour all</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And let him in: Let Nilus + flow,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And perpetuall plenty show.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>With Incense let us bless the + brim,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And as the wanton fishes swim,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Let us Gums, and Garlands + fling,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And loud our Timbrels ring.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Come (old Father) come away,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Our labour is our holy day.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Isis. <i>Here comes the aged River + now</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>With Garlands of great Pearl, his + Brow</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begirt and rounded: In his + Flow</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>All things take life; and all things + grow.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>A thousand wealthy Treasures + still,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>To do him service at his will</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Follow his rising Flood, and + pour</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Perpetuall blessings in our + store.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Hear him: and next there will + advance,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>His sacred Heads to tread a + Dance,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>In honour of my Royal Guest,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Mark them too: and you have a + Feast.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> A little dross betray + me?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. I am asham'd I warr'd at + home, (my friends)</p> + + <p>When such wealth may be got abroad: what honour?</p> + + <p>Nay everlasting glory had <i>Rome</i> purchas'd,</p> + + <p>Had she a just cause but to visit <i>Ægypt</i>?</p> + </div> + </div> + + <h4><i>Nilus</i> SONG, <i>and Dance.</i></h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Make room for my rich waters fall, and + bless my Flood,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Nilus comes flowing, to you all + encrease and good.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Now the Plants and Flowers shall + spring,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And the merry Plough-man + sing</i></p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page343" + id="page343"></a>[pg 343]</span> + + <p class="i2"><i>In my bidden waves I bring</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bread, and wine, and every + thing.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Let the Damsells sing me in:</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Sing aloud that I may rise:</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Your holy Feasts and hours + begin,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And each hand bring a + Sacrifice.</i></p> + + <p class="i4"><i>Now my wanton Pearls I show</i></p> + + <p class="i4"><i>That to Ladies fair necks + grow.</i></p> + + <p class="i8"><i>Now my gold</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And treasures that can ne're be + told,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Shall bless this Land, by my rich + Flow,</i></p> + + <p class="i4"><i>And after this, to crown your + Eyes,</i></p> + + <p class="i4"><i>My hidden holy head arise.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. The wonder of this wealth + so troubles me,</p> + + <p>I am not well: good-night.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I am glad ye have it:</p> + + <p>Now we shall stir again.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Thou wealth, still haunt + him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> A greedy spirit set thee on: + we are happy.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Lights: lights for + <i>Cæsar</i>, and attendance.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Well,</p> + + <p>I shall yet find a time to tell thee + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>Thou hast wrong'd her Love: the rest here.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Lights along still:</p> + + <p>Musick, and Sacrifice to sleep for <i>Cæsar</i>. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h2><i>Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.</i></h2> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Photinus, Achillas, Achoreus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> I told ye carefully, what + this would prove to,</p> + + <p>What this inestimable wealth and glory</p> + + <p>Would draw upon ye: I advis'd your Majesty</p> + + <p>Never to tempt a Conquering Guest: nor add</p> + + <p>A bait, to catch a mind, bent by his Trade</p> + + <p>To make the whole world his.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I was not heard Sir:</p> + + <p>Or what I said, lost, and contemn'd: I dare say,</p> + + <p>(And freshly now) 'twas a poor weakness in ye,</p> + + <p>A glorious Childishness: I watch'd his + eye,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page344" + id="page344"></a>[pg 344]</span> + + <p>And saw how Faulcon-like it towr'd, and flew</p> + + <p>Upon the wealthy Quarry: how round it mark'd it:</p> + + <p>I observ'd his words, and to what it tended;</p> + + <p>How greedily he ask'd from whence it came,</p> + + <p>And what Commerce we held for such abundance:</p> + + <p>The shew of <i>Nilus</i>, how he laboured at</p> + + <p>To find the secret wayes the Song delivered.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> He never smil'd, I noted, at + the pleasures,</p> + + <p>But fixt his constant eyes upon the treasure;</p> + + <p>I do not think his ears had so much leisure</p> + + <p>After the wealth appear'd, to hear the Musique?</p> + + <p>Most sure he has not slept since, his mind's + troubled</p> + + <p>With objects that would make their own still + labour.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Your Sister he ne're gaz'd + on: that's a main note,</p> + + <p>The prime beauty of the world had no power over + him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Where was his mind the + whilst?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Where was your + carefulness</p> + + <p>To shew an armed thief the way to rob ye?</p> + + <p>Nay, would you give him this, 'twill excite him</p> + + <p>To seek the rest. Ambition feels no gift,</p> + + <p>Nor knows no bounds, indeed ye have done most + weakly.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Can I be too kind to my + noble friend?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> To be unkind unto your noble + self, but savours</p> + + <p>Of indiscretion, and your friend has found it.</p> + + <p>Had ye been train'd up in the wants and miseries</p> + + <p>A souldier marches through, and known his + temperance</p> + + <p>In offer'd courtesies, you would have made</p> + + <p>A wiser Master of your own, and stronger.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Why, should I give him all, + he would return it:</p> + + <p>'Tis more to him, to make Kings.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Pray be wiser,</p> + + <p>And trust not with your lost wealth, your lov'd + liberty.</p> + + <p>To be a King still at your own discretion</p> + + <p>Is like a King; to be at his, a vassail.</p> + + <p>Now take good counsel, or no more take to ye</p> + + <p>The freedom of a Prince.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> 'Twill be too late + else:</p> + + <p>For, since the Masque, he sent three of his + Captains</p> + + <p>(Ambitious as himself) to view again</p> + + <p>The glory of your + wealth.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page345" + id="page345"></a>[pg 345]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> The next himself comes,</p> + + <p>Not staying for your courtesie, and takes it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> What counsel, my + <i>Achoreus</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> I'le goe pray Sir,</p> + + <p>(For that is best counsel now) the gods may help ye. + [<i>Ex.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I found ye out a way but + 'twas not credited,</p> + + <p>A most secure way: whither will ye flye now?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> For when your wealth is + gone, your power must follow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> And that diminisht also, + what's your life worth?</p> + + <p>Who would regard it?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> You say true.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> What eye</p> + + <p>Will look upon King <i>Ptolomy</i>? if they do + look,</p> + + <p>It must be in scorn:</p> + + <p>For a poor King is a monster;</p> + + <p>What ear remember ye? 'twill be then a courtesie</p> + + <p>(A noble one) to take your life too from ye:</p> + + <p>But if reserv'd, you stand to fill a victory,</p> + + <p>As who knows Conquerours minds? though outwardly</p> + + <p>They bear fair streams.</p> + + <p>O Sir, does this not shake ye?</p> + + <p>If to be honyed on to these afflictions—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> I never will: I was a + Fool.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> For then Sir</p> + + <p>Your Countreys cause falls with ye too, and + fetter'd:</p> + + <p>All <i>Ægypt</i> shall be plough'd up with + dishonour.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> No more: I am sensible: and + now my spirit</p> + + <p>Burns hot within me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Keep it warm and fiery.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> And last be counsel'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> I will, though I perish.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Goe in; we'l tell you all: + and then we'l execute.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + [<i>Exeunt.</i> + </center> + + <h3>SCENA II.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cleopatra, Arsino, Eros. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> You are so impatient.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Have I not cause?</p> + + <p>Women of common Beauties, and low + Births,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page346" + id="page346"></a>[pg 346]</span> + + <p>When they are slighted, are allow'd their + angers,</p> + + <p>Why should not I (a Princess) make him know</p> + + <p>The baseness of his usage?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Yes: 'tis fit:</p> + + <p>But then again you know what man.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> He is no man:</p> + + <p>The shadow of a Greatness hangs upon him,</p> + + <p>And not the vertue: he is no Conquerour,</p> + + <p>H'as suffer'd under the base dross of Nature:</p> + + <p>Poorly delivered up his power to wealth,</p> + + <p>(The god of bed-rid men) taught his eyes treason</p> + + <p>Against the truth of love: he has rais'd + rebellion:</p> + + <p>Defi'd his holy flames.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros.</i> He will fall back again,</p> + + <p>And satisfie your Grace.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Had I been old,</p> + + <p>Or blasted in my bud, he might have shew'd</p> + + <p>Some shadow of dislike: But, to prefer</p> + + <p>The lustre of a little art, <i>Arsino</i>,</p> + + <p>And the poor glow-worm light of some faint + Jewels,</p> + + <p>Before the life of Love, and soul of Beauty,</p> + + <p>Oh how it vexes me! he is no Souldier,</p> + + <p>(All honourable Souldiers are Loves servants)</p> + + <p>He is a Merchant; a meer wandring Merchant,</p> + + <p>Servile to gain: he trades for poor Commodities,</p> + + <p>And makes his Conquests, thefts; some fortunate + Captains</p> + + <p>That quarter with him, and are truly valiant,</p> + + <p>Have flung the name of happy <i>Cæsar</i> on + him,</p> + + <p>Himself ne're won it: he is so base and + covetous,</p> + + <p>He'l sell his sword for gold.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> This is too bitter.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Oh I could curse my self, + that was so foolish,</p> + + <p>So fondly childish to believe his tongue,</p> + + <p>His promising tongue, e're I could catch his + temper,</p> + + <p>I had trash enough to have cloy'd his eyes + withal,</p> + + <p>His covetous eyes; such as I scorn to tread on:</p> + + <p>Richer than e're he saw yet, and more tempting;</p> + + <p>Had I known he had stoop'd at that, I had sav'd mine + honour,</p> + + <p>I had been happy still: but let him take it,</p> + + <p>And let him brag how poorly I am + rewarded:</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page347" + id="page347"></a>[pg 347]</span> + + <p>Let him goe conquer still weak wretched Ladies:</p> + + <p>Love has his angry Quiver too, his deadly,</p> + + <p>And when he finds scorn, armed at the strongest:</p> + + <p>I am a fool to fret thus, for a fool:</p> + + <p>An old blind fool too: I lose my health? I will + not:</p> + + <p>I will not cry: I will not honour him</p> + + <p>With tears diviner than the gods he worships:</p> + + <p>I will not take the pains to curse a poor thing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. Doe not: you shall not + need.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Would I were prisoner</p> + + <p>To one I hate, that I might anger him,</p> + + <p>I will love any man, to break the heart of him:</p> + + <p>Any, that has the heart and will to kill him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Take some fair truce.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I will goe study + mischief,</p> + + <p>And put a look on, arm'd with all my cunnings,</p> + + <p>Shall meet him like a Basilisque, and strike + him:</p> + + <p>Love, put destroying flames into mine eyes,</p> + + <p>Into my smiles, deceits, that I may torture him,</p> + + <p>That I may make him love to death, and laugh at + him.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Apollodorus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> <i>Cæsar</i> commends his + Service to your Grace.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> His service? what's his + service?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. Pray ye be patient,</p> + + <p>The noble <i>Cæsar</i> loves still.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> What's his will?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> He craves access unto your + Highness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> No:</p> + + <p>Say no: I will have none to trouble me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Good Sister.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> None I say: I will be + private.</p> + + <p>Would thou hadst flung me into <i>Nilus</i>, + keeper,</p> + + <p>When first thou gav'st consent, to bring my body</p> + + <p>To this unthankfull <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> 'Twas your will, Madam,</p> + + <p>Nay more, your charge upon me, as I honoured ye:</p> + + <p>You know what danger I endured.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Take this,</p> + + <p>And carry it to that Lordly <i>Cæsar</i> sent + thee:</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page348" + id="page348"></a>[pg 348]</span> + + <p>There's a new Love, a handsom one, a rich one:</p> + + <p>One that will hug his mind: bid him make love to + it:</p> + + <p>Tell the ambitious Broker, this will + suffer—</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter Cæsar.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> He enters.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> How?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> I do not use to wait, + Lady,</p> + + <p>Where I am, all the dores are free, and open.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I ghess so, by your + rudeness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> Ye are not angry?</p> + + <p>Things of your tender mold, should be most + gentle;</p> + + <p>Why do you frown? good gods, what a set-anger</p> + + <p>Have you forc'd into your face! Come, I must temper + ye:</p> + + <p>What a coy smile was there, and a disdainfull!</p> + + <p>How like an ominous flash it broke out from ye!</p> + + <p>Defend me, Love, Sweet, who has anger'd ye?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Shew him a glass; that false + face has betrai'd me:</p> + + <p>That base heart wrought me—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> Be more sweetly angry;</p> + + <p>I wrong'd ye fair?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Away with your foul + flatteries:</p> + + <p>They are too gross: but that I dare be angry,</p> + + <p>And with as great a god as <i>Cæsar</i> is,</p> + + <p>To shew how poorly I respect his memory,</p> + + <p>I would not speak to ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> Pray ye undoe this + riddle,</p> + + <p>And tell me how I have vext ye?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Let me think first</p> + + <p>Whether I may put on a Patience</p> + + <p>That will with honour suffer me: know, I hate + ye,</p> + + <p>Let that begin the story: Now I'le tell ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> But do it milder: In a + noble Lady,</p> + + <p>Softness of spirit, and a sober nature,</p> + + <p>That moves like summer winds, cool, and blows + sweetness;</p> + + <p>Shews blessed like her self.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> And that great + blessedness</p> + + <p>You first reap'd of me: till you taught my + nature</p> + + <p>Like a rude storm to talk aloud, and thunder,</p> + + <p>Sleep was not gentler than my soul, and + stiller;</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page349" + id="page349"></a>[pg 349]</span> + + <p>You had the Spring of my affections:</p> + + <p>And my fair fruits I gave you leave to taste of:</p> + + <p>You must expect: the winter of mine anger:</p> + + <p>You flung me off, before the Court disgrac'd me,</p> + + <p>When in the pride I appear'd of all my beauty,</p> + + <p>Appear'd your <i>Mistress</i>; took into your + eyes</p> + + <p>The common-strumpet love of hated lucre,</p> + + <p>Courted with covetous heart, the slave of + nature,</p> + + <p>Gave all your thoughts to gold, that men of + glory,</p> + + <p>And minds adorn'd with noble love, would kick + at:</p> + + <p>Souldiers of royal mark, scorn such base + purchase:</p> + + <p>Beauty and honour are the marks they shoot at;</p> + + <p>I spake to ye then; I courted ye, and woo'd ye:</p> + + <p>Call'd ye dear <i>Cæsar</i>, hung about ye + tenderly:</p> + + <p>Was proud to appear your friend.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> You have mistaken me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> But neither Eye, nor Favour, + not a Smile</p> + + <p>Was I blessed back with; but shook off rudely,</p> + + <p>And, as ye had been sold to sordid infamy,</p> + + <p>You fell before the Images of treasure,</p> + + <p>And in your soul you worship'd: I stood + slighted,</p> + + <p>Forgotten and contemn'd; my soft embraces,</p> + + <p>And those sweet kisses you call'd Elyzium,</p> + + <p>As letters writ in sand, no more remembred:</p> + + <p>The name and glory of your <i>Cleopatra</i></p> + + <p>Laugh'd at, and made a story to your Captains,</p> + + <p>Shall I endure?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. You are deceiv'd in all + this,</p> + + <p>Upon my life you are, 'tis your much tenderness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> No, no, I love not that way; + you are cozen'd:</p> + + <p>I love with as much ambition as a Conquerour,</p> + + <p>And where I love, will triumph.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. So you shall:</p> + + <p>My heart shall be the Chariot that shall bear + ye,</p> + + <p>All I have won shall wait upon ye: By the gods</p> + + <p>The bravery of this womans mind, has fired me:</p> + + <p>Dear Mistress shall I but this night?—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> How <i>Cæsar</i>?</p> + + <p>Have I let slip a second vanity</p> + + <p>That gives thee + hope?</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page350" + id="page350"></a>[pg 350]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. You shall be absolute,</p> + + <p>And Reign alone as Queen: you shall be any + thing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Make me a maid again, and + then I'le hear thee;</p> + + <p>Examine all thy art of War, to do that;</p> + + <p>And if thou find'st it possible, I'le love thee:</p> + + <p>Till when, farewel, unthankfull.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Stay.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I will not.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. I command.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Command, and goe without, + Sir.</p> + + <p>I do command thee be my slave for ever,</p> + + <p>And vex while I laugh at thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Thus low, beauty.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> It is too late; when I have + found thee absolute,</p> + + <p>The man that Fame reports thee, and to me,</p> + + <p>May be I shall think better. Farewel Conquerour. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. She mocks me too: I will + enjoy her Beauty:</p> + + <p>I will not be deni'd; I'le force my longing.</p> + + <p>Love is best pleas'd, when roundly we compel + him,</p> + + <p>And as he is Imperious, so will I be.</p> + + <p>Stay fool, and be advis'd: that dulls the + appetite,</p> + + <p>Takes off the strength and sweetness of delight.</p> + + <p>By Heaven she is a miracle, I must use</p> + + <p>A handsom way to win: how now; what fear</p> + + <p>Dwells in your faces? you look all distracted.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Sceva, Anthony, Dolabella. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sceva</i>. If it be fear, 'tis fear of + your undoing,</p> + + <p>Not of our selves: fear of your poor declining:</p> + + <p>Our lives and deaths are equall benefits,</p> + + <p>And we make louder prayers to dye nobly,</p> + + <p>Than to live high, and wantonly: whilst you are + secure here,</p> + + <p>And offer Hecatombs of lazie kisses</p> + + <p>To the lewd god of love, and cowardize,</p> + + <p>And most lasci[v]iously dye in delights,</p> + + <p>You are begirt with the fierce + <i>Alexandrians</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> The spawn of <i>Egypt</i> + flow about your Palace,</p> + + <p>Arm'd all: and ready to assault.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Led on</p> + + <p>By the false and base <i>Photinus</i> and his + Ministers;</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page351" + id="page351"></a>[pg 351]</span> + + <p>No stirring out; no peeping through a loop-hole,</p> + + <p>But straight saluted with an armed Dart.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> No parley: they are deaf to + all but danger,</p> + + <p>They swear they will fley us, and then dry our + Quarters:</p> + + <p>A rasher of a salt lover, is such a + Shooing-horn:</p> + + <p>Can you kiss away this conspiracy, and set us + free?</p> + + <p>Or will the Giant god of love fight for ye?</p> + + <p>Will his fierce war-like bow kill a + Cock-sparrow?</p> + + <p>Bring out the Lady, she can quel this mutiny:</p> + + <p>And with her powerfull looks strike awe into + them:</p> + + <p>She can destroy, and build again the City,</p> + + <p>Your Goddesses have mighty gifts: shew 'em her fair + brests,</p> + + <p>The impregnable Bulworks of proud Love, and let + 'em</p> + + <p>Begin their battery there: she will laugh at + 'em;</p> + + <p>They are not above a hundred thousand, Sir.</p> + + <p>A mist, a mist, that when her Eyes break out,</p> + + <p>Her powerfull radiant eyes, and shake their + flashes,</p> + + <p>Will flye before her heats.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Begirt with Villains?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>S[ce].</i> They come to play you, and + your Love a Huntsup.</p> + + <p>You were told what this same whorson wenching, long + agoe would come to:</p> + + <p>You are taken napping now: has not a Souldier,</p> + + <p>A time to kiss his friend, and a time to + consider,</p> + + <p>But he must lye still digging, like a Pioneer,</p> + + <p>Making of mines, and burying of his honour + there?</p> + + <p>'Twere good you would think—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> And time too, or you will + find else</p> + + <p>A harder task, than Courting a coy Beauty.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Look out and then + believe.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> No, no, hang danger:</p> + + <p>Take me provoking broth, and then goe to her:</p> + + <p>Goe to your Love, and let her feel your valour;</p> + + <p>Charge her whole body, when the sword's in your + throat (Sir,)</p> + + <p>You may cry, <i>Cæsar</i>, and see if that will help + ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. I'le be my self again, and + meet their furies,</p> + + <p>Meet, and consume their mischiefs: make some shift, + <i>Sceva</i>,</p> + + <p>To recover the Fleet, and bring me up two + Legions,</p> + + <p>And you shall see me, how I'le break like + thunder</p> + + <p>Amongst these beds of slimy Eeles, and scatter + 'em.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Now ye speak sense I'le put + my life to the + hazard,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page352" + id="page352"></a>[pg 352]</span> + + <p>Before I goe No more of this warm Lady,</p> + + <p>She will spoil your sword-hand.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Goe: come, let's to + Counsel</p> + + <p>How to prevent, and then to execute.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENA III.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Souldiers. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> Did ye see this + Penitence?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> Yes: I saw, and heard + it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sold.</i> And I too: look'd upon + him, and observ'd it,</p> + + <p>He's the strangest <i>Septimus</i> now—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> I heard he was + altered,</p> + + <p>And had given away his Gold to honest uses:</p> + + <p>Cry'd monstrously.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> He cryes abundantly:</p> + + <p>He is blind almost with weeping.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sold.</i> 'Tis most wonderfull</p> + + <p>That a hard hearted man, and an old Souldier</p> + + <p>Should have so much kind moisture: when his Mother + dy'd</p> + + <p>He laugh'd aloud, and made the wickedst + Ballads—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> 'Tis like enough: he never + lov'd his parents;</p> + + <p>Nor can I blame him, for they ne'r lov'd him.</p> + + <p>His Mother dream'd before she was deliver'd</p> + + <p>That she was brought abed with a Buzzard, and ever + after</p> + + <p>She whistl'd him up to th' world: his brave clothes + too</p> + + <p>He has flung away, and goes like one of us now:</p> + + <p>Walks with his hands in's pockets, poor and + sorrowfull,</p> + + <p>And gives the best instructions.—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> And tells stories</p> + + <p>Of honest and good people that were honour'd</p> + + <p>And how they were remembred: and runs mad</p> + + <p>If he but hear of any ungratefull person,</p> + + <p>A bloudy, or betraying man—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sold.</i> If it be possible</p> + + <p>That an Arch-Villain may ever be recovered,</p> + + <p>This penitent Rascal will put hard: 'twere worth our + labour</p> + + <p>To see him once again.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page353" + id="page353"></a>[pg 353]</span> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Septimius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> He spares us that + labour,</p> + + <p>For here he comes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i>—Bless ye my honest + friends,</p> + + <p>Bless ye from base unworthy men; come not near + me,</p> + + <p>For I am yet too taking for your company.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> Did I not tell ye?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> What book's that?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> No doubt</p> + + <p>Some excellent Salve for a sore heart: are you</p> + + <p><i>Septimius</i>, that base knave, that betray'd + <i>Pompey</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I was, and am; unless your + honest thoughts</p> + + <p>Will look upon my penitence, and save me,</p> + + <p>I must be ever Villain: O good Souldiers</p> + + <p>You that have <i>Roman</i> hearts, take heed of + falsehood:</p> + + <p>Take heed of blood; take heed of foul + ingratitude.</p> + + <p>The Gods have scarce a mercy for those + mischiefs,</p> + + <p>Take heed of pride, 'twas that that brought me to + it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> This fellow would make a + rare speech at the gallows.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>[3] Sol.</i> 'Tis very fit he were + hang'd to edifie us:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Let all your thoughts be + humble, and obedient,</p> + + <p>Love your Commanders, honour them that feed ye:</p> + + <p>Pray, that ye may be strong in honesty</p> + + <p>As in the use of arms; Labour, and diligently</p> + + <p>To keep your hearts from ease, and her base + issues,</p> + + <p>Pride, and ambitious wantonness, those spoil'd + me.</p> + + <p>Rather lose all your limbs, than the least + honesty,</p> + + <p>You are never lame indeed, till loss of credit</p> + + <p>Benumb ye through: Scarrs, and those maims of + honour</p> + + <p>Are memorable crutches, that shall bear</p> + + <p>When you are dead, your noble names to Eternity.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> I cry.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> And so do I.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sol.</i> An excellent villain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> A more sweet pious knave I + never heard yet.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> He was happie he was + Rascal, to come to this.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Achoreus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who's this? a Priest?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> O stay, most holy + Sir!</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page354" + id="page354"></a>[pg 354]</span> + + <p>And by the Gods of <i>Egypt</i>, I conjure ye,</p> + + <p>(<i>Isis</i>, and great <i>Osiris</i>) pity me,</p> + + <p>Pity a loaden man, and tell me truly</p> + + <p>With what most humble Sacrifice I may</p> + + <p>Wash off my sin, and appease the powers that hate + me?</p> + + <p>Take from my heart those thousand thousand + furies,</p> + + <p>That restless gnaw upon my life, and save me.</p> + + <p><i>Orestes</i> bloody hands fell on his Mother,</p> + + <p>Yet, at the holy altar he was pardon'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> <i>Orestes</i> out of madness + did his murther,</p> + + <p>And therefore he found grace: thou (worst of all + men)</p> + + <p>Out of cold blood, and hope of gain, base lucre,</p> + + <p>Slew'st thine own Feeder: come not near the + altar,</p> + + <p>Nor with thy reeking hands pollute the + Sacrifice,</p> + + <p>Thou art markt for shame eternal. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Look all on me,</p> + + <p>And let me be a story left to time</p> + + <p>Of blood and Infamy, how base and ugly</p> + + <p>Ingratitude appears, with all her profits,</p> + + <p>How monstrous my hop'd grace, at Court! good + souldiers</p> + + <p>Let neither flattery, nor the witching sound</p> + + <p>Of high and soft preferment, touch your + goodness:</p> + + <p>To be valiant, old, and honest, O what + blessedness—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> Dost thou want any + thing?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Nothing but your prayers.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> Be thus, and let the blind + Priest do his worst,</p> + + <p>We have gods as well as they, and they will hear + us.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sol.</i> Come, cry no more: thou + hast wep't out twenty <i>Pompeys</i>.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Photinus, Achillas. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> So penitent?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> It seems so.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Yet for all this</p> + + <p>We must employ him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> These are the arm'd + Souldier leaders:</p> + + <p>Away: and let's toth' Fort, we shall be snapt else. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> How now? why thus? what cause + of this dejection?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Why dost thou weep?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Pray leave me, you have + ruin'd me,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page355" + id="page355"></a>[pg 355]</span> + + <p>You have made me a famous Villain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Does that touch thee?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> He will be hard to win: he + feels his lewdness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> He must be won, or we shall + want our right hand.</p> + + <p>This fellow dares, and knows, and must be + heartned.</p> + + <p>Art thou so poor to blench at what thou hast + done?</p> + + <p>Is Conscience a comrade for an old Soldier?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> It is not that: it may be + some disgrace</p> + + <p>That he takes heavily; and would be cherish'd,</p> + + <p><i>Septimius</i> ever scorn'd to shew such + weakness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Let me alone; I am not for + your purpose,</p> + + <p>I am now a new man.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> We have new affairs for + thee,</p> + + <p>Those that would raise thy head.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I would 'twere off,</p> + + <p>And in your bellies for the love you bear me.</p> + + <p>I'le be no more Knave: I have stings enough</p> + + <p>Already in my breast.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Thou shalt be noble:</p> + + <p>And who dares think then that thou art not + honest?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Thou shalt command in + Chief, all our strong Forces</p> + + <p>And if thou serv'st an use, must not all justifie + it?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>S[e]p.</i> I am Rogue enough.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Thou wilt be more, and + baser:</p> + + <p>A poor Rogue is all Rogues: open to all shames:</p> + + <p>Nothing to shadow him: dost thou think crying</p> + + <p>Can keep thee from the censure of the Multitude?</p> + + <p>Or to be kneeling at the altar save thee?</p> + + <p>'Tis poor and servile:</p> + + <p>Wert thou thine own Sacrifice</p> + + <p>'Twould seem so low, people would spit the fire + out.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Keep thy self glorious + still, though ne're so stain'd,</p> + + <p>And that will lessen it, if not work it out.</p> + + <p>To goe complaining thus, and thus repenting</p> + + <p>Like a poor Girl that had betrai'd her + maide<sup>n</sup>-head—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I'le stop mine ears.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Will shew so in a + Souldier,</p> + + <p>So simply, and so ridiculously, so tamely—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> If people would believe thee, + 'twere some honesty,</p> + + <p>And for thy penitence would not laugh at + thee</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page356" + id="page356"></a>[pg 356]</span> + + <p>(As sure they will) and beat thee for thy + poverty:</p> + + <p>If they would allow thy foolery, there were some + hope.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> My foolery?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Nay, more than that, thy + misery,</p> + + <p>Thy monstrous misery.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>A[c]hil.</i> He begins to hearken:</p> + + <p>Thy misery so great, men will not bury thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> That this were true!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Why does this conquering + <i>Cæsar</i></p> + + <p>Labour through the worlds deep Seas of toyls and + troubles,</p> + + <p>Dangers, and desperate hopes? to repent + afterwards?</p> + + <p>Why does he slaughter thousands in a Battel,</p> + + <p>And whip his Country with the sword? to cry + for't?</p> + + <p>Thou killd'st great <i>Pompey</i>; he'l kill all his + kindred,</p> + + <p>And justifie it: nay raise up <i>Trophies</i> to + it.</p> + + <p>When thou hear'st him repent, (he's held most holy + too)</p> + + <p>And cry for doing daily bloody murthers,</p> + + <p>Take thou example, and go ask forgiveness,</p> + + <p>Call up the thing thou nam'st thy conscience,</p> + + <p>And let it work: then 'twill seem well + <i>Septimius</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> He does all this.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Yes: and is honour'd for + it;</p> + + <p>Nay call'd the honour'd <i>Cæsar</i>, so maist thou + be:</p> + + <p>Thou wert born as near a Crown as he.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> He was poor.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> And desperate bloody tricks + got him this credit.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I am afraid you will once + more—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Help to raise thee:</p> + + <p>Off with thy pining black, it dulls a Souldier,</p> + + <p>And put on resolution like a man,</p> + + <p>A noble Fate waits on thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I now feel</p> + + <p>My self returning Rascal speedily.</p> + + <p>O that I had the power—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Thou shalt have all:</p> + + <p>And do all through thy power, men shall admire + thee,</p> + + <p>And the vices of <i>Septimius</i> shall turn + vertues.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Off: off: thou must off: off + my cowardize,</p> + + <p>Puling repentance off.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Now thou speakst + nobly.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page357" + id="page357"></a>[pg 357]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Off my dejected looks: and + welcom impudence:</p> + + <p>My daring shall be Deity, to save me:</p> + + <p>Give me instructions, and put action on me:</p> + + <p>A glorious cause upon my swords point, + Gentlemen,</p> + + <p>And let my wit, and valour work: you will raise + me,</p> + + <p>And make me out-dare all my miseries?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> All this, and all thy + wishes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Use me then,</p> + + <p>Womanish fear farewell: I'le never melt more,</p> + + <p>Lead on, to some great thing, to wake my spirit:</p> + + <p>I cut the Cedar <i>Pompey</i>, and I'le fell</p> + + <p>This huge Oak <i>Cæsar</i> too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Now thou singst sweetly:</p> + + <p>And <i>Ptolomy</i> shall crown thee for thy + service.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> He's well wrought: put him + on apace for cooling.</p> + + <p class="i10">[<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h2><i>Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.</i></h2> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> The tumult still + encreases.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. O my fortune!</p> + + <p>My lustfull folly rather! but 'tis well,</p> + + <p>And worthily I am made a bondsmans prey,</p> + + <p>That after all my glorious victories,</p> + + <p>In which I pass'd so many Seas of dangers,</p> + + <p>When all the Elements conspir'd against me,</p> + + <p>Would yield up the dominion of this head</p> + + <p>To any mortal power: so blind and stupid,</p> + + <p>To trust these base <i>Egyptians</i>, that + proclaim'd</p> + + <p>Their perjuries, in noble <i>Pompeys</i> death,</p> + + <p>And yet that could not warn me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Be still <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>Who ever lov'd to exercise his fate,</p> + + <p>Where danger look't most dreadful.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> If you fall,</p> + + <p>Fall not alone: let the King and his Sister</p> + + <p>Be buried in your ruines: on my life</p> + + <p>They both are guilty: reason may assure + you</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page358" + id="page358"></a>[pg 358]</span> + + <p><i>Photinus</i> nor <i>Achillas</i> durst attempt + you,</p> + + <p>Or shake one Dart, or sword, aim'd at your + safety,</p> + + <p>Without their warrant.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. For the young King I know + not</p> + + <p>How he may be misled; but for his Sister</p> + + <p>(Unequall'd <i>Cleopatra</i>) 'twere a kind</p> + + <p>Of blasphemy to doubt her: ugly treason</p> + + <p>Durst never dwell in such a glorious building,</p> + + <p>Nor can so clear and great a spirit, as hers is,</p> + + <p>Admit of falsehood.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Let us seize on him then:</p> + + <p>And leave her to her fortune.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> If he have power</p> + + <p>Use it to your security, and let</p> + + <p>His honesty acquit him: if he be false</p> + + <p>It is too great an honour he should dye</p> + + <p>By your victorious hand.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. He comes: and I</p> + + <p>Shall do as I find cause.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Let not great + <i>Cæsar</i></p> + + <p>Impute the breach of hospitality,</p> + + <p>To you (my guest) to me; I am contemn'd,</p> + + <p>And my rebellious subjects lift their hands</p> + + <p>Against my head: and would they aim'd no + farther,</p> + + <p>Provided that I fell a sacrifice</p> + + <p>To gain you safety: that this is not feign'd,</p> + + <p>The boldness of my innocence may confirm you:</p> + + <p>Had I been privy to their bloody plot,</p> + + <p>I now had led them on, and given fair gloss</p> + + <p>To their bad cause, by being present with them:</p> + + <p>But I that yet taste of the punishment,</p> + + <p>In being false to <i>Pompey</i>, will not make</p> + + <p>A second fault to <i>Cæsar</i> uncompel'd</p> + + <p>With such as have not yet shook off obedience,</p> + + <p>I yield my self to you, and will take part</p> + + <p>In all your dangers.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. This pleads your + excuse,</p> + + <p>And I receive + it.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page359" + id="page359"></a>[pg 359]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> If they have any touch</p> + + <p>Of justice, or religion, I will use</p> + + <p>The authority of our Gods, to call them back</p> + + <p>From their bad purpose.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Apo.</i> This part of the palace</p> + + <p>Is yet defensible: we may make it good,</p> + + <p>Till your powers rescue us.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. <i>Cæsar</i> besieg'd?</p> + + <p>O stain to my great actions: 'twas my custom,</p> + + <p>An Army routed, as my feet had wings</p> + + <p>To be first in the chase: nor walls, nor + Bulworks</p> + + <p>Could guard those that escap'd the Battels fury</p> + + <p>From this strong Arm; and I to be enclos'd?</p> + + <p>My heart! my heart! but 'tis necessity,</p> + + <p>To which the Gods must yield, and I obey,</p> + + <p>'Till I redeem it by some glorious way. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENA II.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Photinus, Achillas, Septimius, + <i>Souldiers.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> There's no retiring now, we + are broke in:</p> + + <p>The deed past hope of pardon: if we prosper</p> + + <p>'Twill be stil'd lawful!, and we shall give laws</p> + + <p>To those that now command us: stop not at</p> + + <p>Or loyalty, or duty: bold ambition,</p> + + <p>To dare and power to do, gave the first + difference</p> + + <p>Between the King, and subject, <i>Cæsars + Motto</i>,</p> + + <p><i>Aut Cæsar aut Nihil</i>, each of us must + claim,</p> + + <p>And use it as our own.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> The deed is bloody</p> + + <p>If we conclude in <i>Ptolomies</i> death.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> The better,</p> + + <p>The globe of Empire must be so manur'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> <i>Rome</i>, that from + <i>Romulus</i> first took her name,</p> + + <p>Had her walls water'd with a Crimson showr</p> + + <p>Drain'd from a Brothers heart: nor was she + rais'd</p> + + <p>To this prodigious height, that overlooks</p> + + <p>Three full parts of the Earth, that pay her + tribute,</p> + + <p>But by enlarging of her <sup>n</sup>arrow bounds</p> + + <p>By the Sack of Neighbour Cities, not made + hers</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page360" + id="page360"></a>[pg 360]</span> + + <p>Till they were Cemented with the Blood of those</p> + + <p>That did possess 'em: <i>Cæsar, Ptolomy</i>,</p> + + <p>(Now I am steel'd) to me are empty names</p> + + <p>Esteem'd as <i>Pompeys</i> was.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Well said + <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>Thou now art right again.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> But what course take we</p> + + <p>For the Princess <i>Cleopatra</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Let her live</p> + + <p>Awhile to make us sport: she shall authorize</p> + + <p>Our undertakings to the ignorant people,</p> + + <p>As if what we do were by her command:</p> + + <p>But our <i>triumvirat</i> Government once + confirm'd,</p> + + <p>She bears her Brother company, that's my + Province:</p> + + <p>Leave me to work her.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> I will undertake</p> + + <p>For <i>Ptolomy</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> <i>Cæsar</i> shall be my + task,</p> + + <p>And as in <i>Pompey</i> I began a name</p> + + <p>I'le perfect it in <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter (above)</i> Cæsar, Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus, + Antony, Dolabella. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> 'Tis resolv'd then,</p> + + <p>We'll force our passage.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> See, they do appear</p> + + <p>As they desir'd a Parley.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I am proud yet</p> + + <p>I have brought 'em to capitulate.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Now, <i>Photinus</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Now, <i>Ptolomy</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> No addition?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> We are equal,</p> + + <p>Though <i>Cæsars</i> name were put into the + scale,</p> + + <p>In which our worth is weigh'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Presumptuous Villain,</p> + + <p>Upon what grounds hast thou presum'd to raise</p> + + <p>Thy servile hand against the King, or me,</p> + + <p>That have a greater name?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> On those, by + which</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page361" + id="page361"></a>[pg 361]</span> + + <p>Thou didst presume to pass the <i>Rubicon</i></p> + + <p>Against the Laws of <i>Rome</i>; and at the name</p> + + <p>Of Traitor smile; as thou didst when + <i>Marcellus</i>,</p> + + <p>The Consul, with the <i>Senates</i> full consent</p> + + <p>Pronounc'd thee for an Enemy to thy Country,</p> + + <p>Yet thou wentst on, and thy rebellious Cause</p> + + <p>Was crown'd with fair success: Why should we fear + then?</p> + + <p>Think on that, <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> O the gods! be brav'd + thus,</p> + + <p>And be compell'd to bear this from a Slave</p> + + <p>That would not brook Great <i>Pompey</i> his + Superiour?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Thy glories now have toucht + the highest point,</p> + + <p>And must descend.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Despair, and think we + stand</p> + + <p>The Champions of <i>Rome</i>, to wreak her + wrongs,</p> + + <p>Upon whose liberty thou hast set thy foot.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> And that the Ghosts of all + those noble <i>Romans</i></p> + + <p>That by thy Sword fell in this Civil War</p> + + <p>Expect revenge.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Dar'st thou speak, and + remember</p> + + <p>There was a <i>Pompey</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> There is no hope to 'scape + us:</p> + + <p>If that against the odds we have upon you</p> + + <p>You dare come forth, and fight, receive the + honour</p> + + <p>To dye like <i>Romans</i>, if ye faint, resolve</p> + + <p>To starve like Wretches; I disdain to change</p> + + <p>Another syllable with you. [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Let us dye nobly;</p> + + <p>And rather fall upon each others Sword</p> + + <p>Than come into these Villains hands.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> That Fortune,</p> + + <p>Which to this hour hath been a Friend to + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>Though for a while she cloath her Brow with + frowns,</p> + + <p>Will smile again upon me: who will pay her,</p> + + <p>Or sacrifice, or Vows, if she forsake</p> + + <p>Her best of works in me? or suffer him,</p> + + <p>Whom with a strong hand she hath led triumphant</p> + + <p>Through the whole western world, and <i>Rome</i> + acknowledg'd</p> + + <p>Her Soveraign Lord, to end in-gloriously</p> + + <p>A life admir'd by all? The threatned + danger</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page362" + id="page362"></a>[pg 362]</span> + + <p>Must by a way more horrid be avoided,</p> + + <p>And I will run the hazard; Fire the Palace,</p> + + <p>And the rich Magazines that neighbour it,</p> + + <p>In which the Wealth of <i>Egypt</i> is + contain'd:</p> + + <p>Start not, it shall be so; that while the people</p> + + <p>Labour in quenching the ensuing flames,</p> + + <p>Like Cæsar, with this handful of my friends</p> + + <p>Through Fire, and Swords I force a passage to</p> + + <p>My conquering Legions. King, if thou dar'd + follow</p> + + <p>Where <i>Cæsar</i> leads, or live or dye a + Free-man;</p> + + <p>If not, stay here a Bond-man to thy Slave,</p> + + <p>And dead, be thought unworthy of a Grave. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENE III.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Septimius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> I feel my resolution melts + again</p> + + <p>And that I am not Knave alone, but fool,</p> + + <p>In all my purposes. The Devil, <i>Photinus</i>,</p> + + <p>Employs me as a Property, and grown useless</p> + + <p>Will shake me off again; he told me so</p> + + <p>When I kill'd <i>Pompey</i>; nor can I hope + better,</p> + + <p>When <i>Cæsar</i> is dispatch'd; Services done</p> + + <p>For such as only study their own ends,</p> + + <p>Too great to be rewarded, are return'd</p> + + <p>With deadly hate; I learn'd this Principle</p> + + <p>In his own School, yet still he fools me, well;</p> + + <p>And yet he trusts me: Since I in my nature</p> + + <p>Was fashion'd to be false, wherefore should I</p> + + <p>That kill'd my General, and a <i>Roman</i>, one</p> + + <p>To whom I ow'd all nourishments of life,</p> + + <p>Be true to an <i>Egyptian</i>? To save + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>And turn <i>Photinus's</i> plots on his own + head,</p> + + <p>As it is in my power, redeem my credit,</p> + + <p>And live to lye and swear again in fashion,</p> + + <p>Oh, 'twere a master-piece! ha!—me + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>How's he got off?</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page363" + id="page363"></a>[pg 363]</span> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Ptolomy, Antony, Dolabella, Achoreus, + Apollodorus, <i>Souldiers.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> The fire has took,</p> + + <p>And shews the City like a second <i>Troy</i>,</p> + + <p>The Navy too is scorch'd, the people greedy</p> + + <p>To save their Wealth and Houses, whilst their + Souldiers</p> + + <p>Make spoil of all; only <i>Achillas's</i> Troops</p> + + <p>Make good their Guard, break through them, we are + safe;</p> + + <p>I'll lead you like a Thunder-bolt.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Stay, <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Who's this? the Dog, + <i>Septimius</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Cut his throat.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> You bark'd but now, fawn you + so soon?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> O hear me,</p> + + <p>What I'll deliver is for <i>Cæsars</i> safety,</p> + + <p>For all your good.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Good from a mouth like + thine,</p> + + <p>That never belch'd but blasphemy, and treason on + Festival days!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> I am an altered man, altered + indeed,</p> + + <p>And will give you cause to say I am a + <i>Roman</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Rogue, I grant thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Trust me, I'll make the + passage smooth, and easie</p> + + <p>For your escape.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> I'll trust the Devil + sooner,</p> + + <p>And make a safer Bargain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> I am trusted</p> + + <p>With all <i>Photinus's</i> secrets.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> There's no doubt then</p> + + <p>Thou wilt be false.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Still to be true to you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> And very likely.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Be brief, the means?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Thus, <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>To me alone, but bound by terrible oaths</p> + + <p>Not to discover it, he hath reveal'd</p> + + <p>A dismal Vault, whose dreadful mouth does open</p> + + <p>A mile beyond the City: in this Cave</p> + + <p>Lye but two hours conceal'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> If you believe + him,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page364" + id="page364"></a>[pg 364]</span> + + <p>He'll bury us alive.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> I'll flye in the Air + first.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Then in the dead of night + I'll bring you back</p> + + <p>Into a private room, where you shall find</p> + + <p><i>Photinus</i>, and <i>Achillas</i>, and the + rest</p> + + <p>Of their Commanders close at Council.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Good, what follows?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Fall me fairly on their + throats,</p> + + <p>Their heads cut off and shorn, the multitude</p> + + <p>Will easily disperse.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> O Devil! away with him;</p> + + <p>Nor true to Friend nor Enemy? <i>Cæsar</i> + scorns</p> + + <p>To find his safety, or revenge his wrongs</p> + + <p>So base a way; or owe the means of life</p> + + <p>To such a leprous Traytor, I have towr'd</p> + + <p>For Victory like a Faulcon in the Clouds,</p> + + <p>Nor dig'd for't like a Mole; our Swords and + Cause</p> + + <p>Make way for us, and that it may appear</p> + + <p>We took a noble Course, and hate base Treason,</p> + + <p>Some Souldiers that would merit <i>Cæsar's</i> + favour,</p> + + <p>Hang him on yonder Turret, and then follow</p> + + <p>The lane this Sword makes for you. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> Here's a Belt,</p> + + <p>Though I dye for it I'll use it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> 'Tis too good</p> + + <p>To truss a Cur in.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Save me, here's Gold.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> If <i>Rome</i></p> + + <p>Were offered for thy ransom, it could not help + thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> Hang not an arse.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> Goad him on with thy + Sword;</p> + + <p>Thou dost deserve a worser end, and may</p> + + <p>All such conclude so, that their friends betray. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENE IV.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter (severally)</i> Arsino, Eros, Cleopatra. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> We are lost.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. Undone.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Confusion, Fire, and + Swords,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page365" + id="page365"></a>[pg 365]</span> + + <p>And fury in the Souldiers face more horrid</p> + + <p>Circle us round.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. The Kings Command they laugh + at,</p> + + <p>And jeer at <i>Cæsars</i> threats.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> My Brother seiz'd on</p> + + <p>By the <i>Roman</i>, as thought guilty of the + tumult,</p> + + <p>And forc'd to bear him company, as mark'd out</p> + + <p>For his protection or revenge.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. They have broke</p> + + <p>Into my Cabinet; my Trunks are ransack'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> I have lost my jewels too: + but that's the least:</p> + + <p>The barbarous Rascals, against all humanity,</p> + + <p>Or sense of pity, have kill'd my little Dog,</p> + + <p>And broke my Monkeys Chain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. They rifled me:</p> + + <p>But that I could endure, would they proceed no + further.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> O my Sister!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. My Queen, my Mistress!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Can you stand unmov'd</p> + + <p>When the Earth-quake of Rebellion shakes the + City,</p> + + <p>And the Court trembles?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Yes, <i>Arsino</i>,</p> + + <p>And with a Masculine Constancy deride</p> + + <p>Fortunes worst malice, as a Servant to</p> + + <p>My Vertues, not a Mistress; then we forsake</p> + + <p>The strong Fort of our selves, when we once + yield,</p> + + <p>Or shrink at her assaults; I am still my self,</p> + + <p>And though disrob'd of Soveraignty, and ravish'd</p> + + <p>Of ceremonious duty, that attends it,</p> + + <p>Nay, grant they had slav'd my Body, my free mind</p> + + <p>Like to the Palm-tree walling fruitful + <i>Nile</i>,</p> + + <p>Shall grow up straighter and enlarge it self</p> + + <p>'Spight of the envious weight that loads it + with:</p> + + <p>Think of thy Birth (<i>Arsino</i>) common + burdens</p> + + <p>Fit common Shoulders; teach the multitude</p> + + <p>By suffering nobly what they fear to touch at;</p> + + <p>The greatness of thy mind does soar a pitch,</p> + + <p>Their dim eyes (darkened by their narrow souls)</p> + + <p>Cannot arrive at.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> I am new + created,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page366" + id="page366"></a>[pg 366]</span> + + <p>And owe this second being to you (best Sister)</p> + + <p>For now I feel you have infus'd into me</p> + + <p>Part of your fortitude.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. I still am fearful;</p> + + <p>I dare not tell a lie; you that were born</p> + + <p>Daughters and Sisters unto Kings, may nourish</p> + + <p>Great thoughts, which I, that am your humble + handmaid</p> + + <p>Must not presume to rival.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Yet (my <i>Eros</i>)</p> + + <p>Though thou hast profited nothing by observing</p> + + <p>The whole course of my life, learn in my death,</p> + + <p>Though not to equal, yet to imitate</p> + + <p>Thy fearless Mistress.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Photinus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. O, a man in Arms!</p> + + <p>His Weapon drawn too?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Though upon the point</p> + + <p>Death sate, I'll meet it, and outdare the + danger.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Keep the Watch strong, and + guard the passage sure</p> + + <p>That leads unto the Sea.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> What Sea of rudeness</p> + + <p>Breaks in upon us? or what Subjects Breath</p> + + <p>Dare raise a storm, when we command a calm?</p> + + <p>Are Duty and Obedience fled to Heaven?</p> + + <p>And in their room ambition and pride</p> + + <p>Sent into <i>Egypt</i>? That Face speaks thee, + <i>Photinus</i>,</p> + + <p>A thing thy Mother brought into the World;</p> + + <p>My Brother's and my Slave: but thy behaviour,</p> + + <p>Oppos'd to that, an insolent intruder</p> + + <p>Upon that Soveraignty thou shouldst bow to.</p> + + <p>If in the Gulph of base ingratitude,</p> + + <p>All loyalty to <i>Ptolomy</i> the King</p> + + <p>Be swallowed up, remember who I am,</p> + + <p>Whose Daughter and whose Sister; or suppose</p> + + <p>That is forgot too; let the name of <i>Cæsar</i></p> + + <p>Which Nations quake at, stop the desperate + madness</p> + + <p>From running headlong on to thy Confusion.</p> + + <p>Throw from thee quickly those rebellious Arms,</p> + + <p>And let me read submission in thine + Eyes;</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page367" + id="page367"></a>[pg 367]</span> + + <p>Thy wrongs to us we will not only pardon,</p> + + <p>But be a ready advocate to plead for thee</p> + + <p>To <i>Cæsar</i>, and my Brother.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Plead my Pardon?</p> + + <p>To you I bow, but scorn as much to stoop thus</p> + + <p>To <i>Ptolomy</i> or <i>Cæsar</i>, Nay, the + gods,</p> + + <p>As to put off the figure of a man,</p> + + <p>And change my Essence with a sensual Beast;</p> + + <p>All my designs, my counsels, and dark ends</p> + + <p>Were aim'd to purchase you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> How durst thou, being</p> + + <p>The scorn of baseness, nourish such a thought?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> They that have power are + royal; and those base</p> + + <p>That live at the devotion of another.</p> + + <p>What birth gave <i>Ptolomy</i>, or fortune + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>By Engines fashion'd in this <i>Protean</i> + Anvil</p> + + <p>I have made mine; and only stoop at you,</p> + + <p>Whom I would still preserve free to command me;</p> + + <p>For <i>Cæsar's</i> frowns, they are below my + thoughts,</p> + + <p>And but in these fair Eyes I still have read</p> + + <p>The story of a supream Monarchy,</p> + + <p>To which all hearts with mine gladly pay + tribute,</p> + + <p><i>Photinus's</i> Name had long since been as + great</p> + + <p>As <i>Ptolomies</i> e'r was, or <i>Cæsars</i> + is,</p> + + <p>This made me as a weaker tye to unloose</p> + + <p>The knot of Loyalty, that chain'd my freedom,</p> + + <p>And slight the fear that <i>Cæsars</i> threats might + cause,</p> + + <p>That I and they might see no Sun appear</p> + + <p>But <i>Cleopatra</i> in the <i>Egyptian</i> + Sphear.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> O Giant-like Ambition! + marryed to</p> + + <p><i>Cymmerian</i> darkness! inconsiderate Fool,</p> + + <p>(Though flatter'd with self-love) could'st thou + believe,</p> + + <p>Were all Crowns on the Earth made into one,</p> + + <p>And that (by Kings) set on thy head; all + Scepters,</p> + + <p>Within thy grasp, and laid down at my feet,</p> + + <p>I would vouchsafe a kiss to a no-man?</p> + + <p>A guelded Eunuch?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Fairest, that makes for + me,</p> + + <p>And shews it is no sensual appetite,</p> + + <p>But true love to the greatness of thy + Spirit,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page368" + id="page368"></a>[pg 368]</span> + + <p>That when that you are mine shall yield me + pleasures,</p> + + <p><i>Hymen</i>, though blessing a new married Pair</p> + + <p>Shall blush to think on, and our certain issue,</p> + + <p>The glorious splendor of dread Majesty,</p> + + <p>Whose beams shall dazel <i>Rome</i>, and aw the + world,</p> + + <p>My wants in that kind others shall supply,</p> + + <p>And I give way to it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Baser than thy Birth;</p> + + <p>Can there be gods, and hear this, and no thunder</p> + + <p>Ram thee into the Earth?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> They are asleep,</p> + + <p>And cannot hear thee;</p> + + <p>Or with open Eyes,</p> + + <p>Did <i>Jove</i> look on us, I would laugh and + swear</p> + + <p>That his artillery is cloy'd by me:</p> + + <p>Or if that they have power to hurt, his Bolts</p> + + <p>Are in my hand.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Most impious!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> They are dreams,</p> + + <p>Religious Fools shake at: yet to assure thee,</p> + + <p>If <i>Nemesis</i>, that scourges pride and + scorn,</p> + + <p>Be any thing but a name, she lives in me;</p> + + <p>For by my self (an oath to me more dreadful</p> + + <p>Than <i>Stix</i> is to your gods) weak + <i>Ptolomy</i> dead,</p> + + <p>And <i>Cæsar</i> (both being in my toil) + remov'd,</p> + + <p>The poorest Rascals that are in my Camp</p> + + <p>Shall in my presence quench their lustful heat</p> + + <p>In thee, and young <i>Arsino</i>, while I laugh</p> + + <p>To hear you howl in vain:</p> + + <p>I deride those gods,</p> + + <p>That you think can protect you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> To prevent thee,</p> + + <p>In that I am the Mistress of my Fate;</p> + + <p>So hope I of my sister to confirm it.</p> + + <p>I spit at thee, and scorn thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I will tame</p> + + <p>That haughty courage, and make thee stoop too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Never,</p> + + <p>I was born to command, and will dye so.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page369" + id="page369"></a>[pg 369]</span> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Achillas, <i>and Souldiers, with the Body + of</i> Ptolomy. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> The King dead? this is a fair + entrance to</p> + + <p>Our future happiness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Oh my dear Brother!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Weep not, <i>Arsino</i>, + common women do so,</p> + + <p>Nor lose a tear for him, it cannot help him;</p> + + <p>But study to dye nobly.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> <i>Cæsar</i> fled!</p> + + <p>'Tis deadly aconite to my cold heart,</p> + + <p>It choaks my vital Spirits: where was your care?</p> + + <p>Did the Guards sleep?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> He rowz'd them with his + Sword;</p> + + <p>We talk of <i>Mars</i>, but I am sure his + Courage</p> + + <p>Admits of no comparison but it self,</p> + + <p>And (as inspir'd by him) his following friends</p> + + <p>With such a confidence as young Eagles prey</p> + + <p>Under the large wing of their fiercer Dam,</p> + + <p>Brake through our Troops and scatter'd them, he went + on</p> + + <p>But still pursu'd by us, when on the sudden,</p> + + <p>He turn'd his head, and from his Eyes flew + terrour;</p> + + <p>Which strook in us no less fear and amazement,</p> + + <p>Than if we had encounter'd with the lightning</p> + + <p>Hurl'd from <i>Jove's</i> cloudy Brow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> 'Twas like my + <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> We faln back, he made on, + and as our fear</p> + + <p>Had parted from us with his dreadful looks,</p> + + <p>Again we follow'd; but got near the Sea;</p> + + <p>On which his Navy anchor'd; in one hand</p> + + <p>Holding a Scroll he had above the waves,</p> + + <p>And in the other grasping fast his Sword,</p> + + <p>As it had been a Trident forg'd by <i>Vulcan</i></p> + + <p>To calm the raging Ocean, he made away</p> + + <p>As if he had been <i>Neptune</i>, his friends + like</p> + + <p>So many <i>Tritons</i> follow'd, their bold + shouts</p> + + <p>Yielding a chearful musick; we showr'd darts</p> + + <p>Upon them, but in vain, they reach'd their ships</p> + + <p>And in their safety we are sunk; for + <i>Cæsar</i></p> + + <p>Prepares for War.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> How fell the + King?</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page370" + id="page370"></a>[pg 370]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Unable</p> + + <p>To follow <i>Cæsar</i>, he was trod to death</p> + + <p>By the Pursuers, and with him the Priest</p> + + <p>Of <i>Isis</i>, good <i>Achoreus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> May the Earth</p> + + <p>Lye gently on their ashes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I feel now,</p> + + <p>That there are powers above us; and that 'tis + not</p> + + <p>Within the searching policies of man</p> + + <p>To alter their decrees.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I laugh at thee;</p> + + <p>Where are thy threats now, Fool, thy scoffs and + scorns</p> + + <p>Against the gods? I see calamity</p> + + <p>Is the best Mistress of Religion,</p> + + <p>And can convert an Atheist. [<i>Shout + within.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> O they come,</p> + + <p>Mountains fall on me! O for him to dye</p> + + <p>That plac'd his Heaven on Earth, is an assurance</p> + + <p>Of his descent to Hell; where shall I hide me?</p> + + <p>The greatest daring to a man dishonest,</p> + + <p>Is but a Bastard Courage, ever fainting. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Sceva, Antony, Dolabella. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Look on your <i>Cæsar</i>; + banish fear, my fairest,</p> + + <p>You now are safe.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> By <i>Venus</i>, not a + kiss</p> + + <p>Till our work be done; the Traitors once + dispatch'd</p> + + <p>To it, and we'll cry aim.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> I will be speedy. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Farewel again, + <i>Arsino</i>; how now, <i>Eros</i>?</p> + + <p>Ever faint-hearted?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. But that I am assur'd,</p> + + <p>Your Excellency can command the General,</p> + + <p>I fear the Souldiers, for they look as if</p> + + <p>They would be nibling too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> He is all honour,</p> + + <p>Nor do I now repent me of my favours,</p> + + <p>Nor can I think that Nature e'r made a Woman</p> + + <p>That in her prime deserv'd him.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page371" + id="page371"></a>[pg 371]</span> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Sceva, Antonie, Dolabella, + <i>Souldiers, with the Heads.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> He's come back,</p> + + <p>Pursue no further; curb the Souldiers fury.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> See (beauteous Mistris) their + accursed heads</p> + + <p>That did conspire against us.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Furies plague 'em,</p> + + <p>They had too fair an end to dye like Souldiers,</p> + + <p><i>Pompey</i> fell by the Sword, the Cross or + Halter</p> + + <p>Should have dispatch'd them.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> All is but death, good + <i>Sceva</i>,</p> + + <p>Be therefore satisfied: and now my dearest,</p> + + <p>Look upon <i>Cæsar</i>, as he still appear'd</p> + + <p>A Conquerour, and this unfortunate King</p> + + <p>Entomb'd with honour, we'll to <i>Rome</i>, where + <i>Cæsar</i></p> + + <p>Will shew he can give Kingdoms; for the Senate,</p> + + <p>(Thy Brother dead) shall willingly decree</p> + + <p>The Crown of <i>Egypt</i> (that was his) to thee. + [<i>Exeunt omnes.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>Prologue.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>New Titles warrant not a Play for new,</i></p> + + <p><i>The Subject being old; and 'tis as true,</i></p> + + <p><i>Fresh and neat matter may with ease be + fram'd</i></p> + + <p><i>Out of their Stories, that have oft been + nam'd</i></p> + + <p><i>With glory on the Stage; what borrows he</i></p> + + <p><i>From him that wrote old</i> Priam's + <i>Tragedy,</i></p> + + <p><i>That writes his love to</i> Hecuba? <i>Sure to + tell</i></p> + + <p><i>Of</i> Cæsars <i>amorous heats, and how he + fell</i></p> + + <p><i>In the Capitol, can never be the same</i></p> + + <p><i>To the Judicious; Nor will such blame</i></p> + + <p><i>Those who pen'd this, for Barrenness when they + find</i></p> + + <p><i>Young</i> Cleopatra <i>here, and her great + Mind</i></p> + + <p><i>Expressed to the height, with us a Maid, and + free,</i></p> + + <p><i>And how he rated her + Virginitie.</i></p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page372" + id="page372"></a>[pg 372]</span> + + <p><i>We treat not of what boldness she did + dye,</i></p> + + <p><i>Nor of her fatal Love to</i> Antony.</p> + + <p><i>What we present and offer to your view,</i></p> + + <p><i>Upon their faiths the Stage yet never + knew.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Let Reason then first to your Wills + give laws,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And after judge of them and of their + cause.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>Epilogue.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>I Now should wish another had my place,</i></p> + + <p><i>But that I hope to come off, and with + Grace;</i></p> + + <p><i>And but express some sign that you are + pleas'd,</i></p> + + <p><i>We of our doubts, they of their fears are + eas'd.</i></p> + + <p><i>I would beg further (Gentlemen) and much + say</i></p> + + <p><i>In favour of our selves, them, and the + Play;</i></p> + + <p><i>Did I not rest assured, the most I see</i></p> + + <p><i>Hate Impudence, and cherish Modestie.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page373" + id="page373"></a></span> + + <h2>APPENDIX.</h2> + + <p>p. <a href="#page300">300</a>, ll. 5-39. Not in 1st + folio.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page301">301</a>, l. 3. 2nd folio] Achil. Love + the K. l. 30. frequent in this. l. 31. to safe.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page302">302</a>, l. 13. and give.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page303">303</a>, l. 10. 2nd folio <i>here and + frequently prints</i>] Septinius.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page304">304</a>, ll. 3 and 4. o' these ... + foole us; l. 7. 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Aeh.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page305">305</a>. l. 7. Till they. l. 24. 2nd + folio <i>misprints</i>] and.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page309">309</a>, l. 30. <i>A missing bracket + has been added before</i> Photinus.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page310">310</a>, l. 4. Prerogatives. l. 31. + 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Potolmy. l. 40. hand of.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page313">313</a>, l. 29. a Prisoner.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page316">316</a>, l. 2. of thy. l. 11. + <i>Omits</i> in. l. 14. sought him.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page318">318</a>, l. 16. <i>A comma has been + added at the end of the line.</i></p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page320">320</a>, l. 20. tell you. l. 24. + <i>Adds the following line</i>] I gave you no comission to + performe it: l. 31. with ye. l. 32. Hangers.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page321">321</a>, l. 23. told ye. l. 30. ye + are.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page322">322</a>, l. 33. my anger.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page323">323</a>, l. 2. 2nd folio] + Lordships.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page324">324</a>, l. 32. <i>Adds the following + line</i>] The rule of ill, I'le trust before the dore.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page325">325</a>, l. 1. I sat. l. 17. + Affrinius. l. 23. past now. l. 29. comes still.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page326">326</a>, l. 9. <i>Omits</i> rich. l. + 32. <i>Omits</i> that.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page327">327</a>, l. 3. Pray.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page328">328</a>, l. 1. I know. l. 6. on a.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page329">329</a>, l. 14. first would.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page330">330</a>, l. 34. 2nd folio + <i>misprints</i>] Apollodrous.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page331">331</a>, l. 28. loades us.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page332">332</a>, l. 11. this rare. l. 20. + cradled.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page333">333</a>, l. 27. halfe an houre.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page334">334</a>, l. 13. Devills are light.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page336">336</a>, l. 1. 2nd folio] villaines. + l. 10. my God. l. 12. Rude valorus. l. 28. 2nd folio] + shall.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page337">337</a>, l. 1. blood. l. 7. stuffes. + l. 8. Leaper. l. 26. <i>Omits</i> To.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page338">338</a>, l. 18. 2nd folio + <i>misprints</i>] Sep. l. 23. the charities. l. 31. The + infectious.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page340">340</a>, l. 20. readiest. l. 30. + <i>Adds after</i> treasure?] richer still?</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page341">341</a>, l. 11. <i>Omits</i> me.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page343">343</a>, l. 1. hidden.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page344">344</a>, l. 13. they would. l. 31. + Pray thee be.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page346">346</a>, l. 23. Lovers.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page347">347</a>, l. 9. Dye not.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page348">348</a>, l. 39. to my.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page349">349</a>, l. 18. backe; but.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page350">350</a>, l. 34. 2nd folio + <i>misprints</i>] lasciciously.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page351">351</a>, l. 20. 2nd folio + <i>misprints</i>] Sec.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page353">353</a>, l. 20. 2nd folio] 2 Sol. l. + 27. loose all.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page355">355</a>, l. 23. 2nd folio + <i>misprints</i>] Sep. l. 35. 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] + maidend-head.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page356">356</a>, l. 6. 2nd folio + <i>misprints</i>] Achil. l. 16. hearest.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page357">357</a>, l. 10. to weale my. l. 22. + bondmans.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page359">359</a>, l. 21. A will. l. 31. manur. + l. 37. 2nd folio] marrow. l. 38. Cities, were made.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page360">360</a>, l. 14. 2nd folio] Brother, + company that's. l. 28. them.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page362">362</a>, l. 9. darst. l. 17. This + Devill. l. 23. rewarded, or return'd. l. 29. I owe.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page363">363</a>, l. 6. while. l. 7. Achillas + troops. l. 17. a moneth. l. 27. Photinus secrets.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page365">365</a>, ll. 15 and 16.</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">They rufled me:</p> + + <p>But that I could endure, and tire 'em too,</p> + + <p>Would they proceed no further.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>l. 20. When an.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page367">367</a>, l. 6. To Ptolomy, to Cæsar. + l. 23. Photinus name. l. 29. th' Egyptian.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page368">368</a>, l. 37. make it. l. 39. and I + will.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page369">369</a>, l. 6. Nor loose. l. 16. you + Eagletss. l. 18. 'em.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page370">370</a>, l. 37. <i>Omits</i> that.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page371">371</a>, l. 5. <i>Omits</i> Cæs. l. + 15. for Rome. l. 20. The Prologue. l. 32. Those that + penn'd.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page372">372</a>, l. 7. The Epilogue. l. 13. In + the favour.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14771 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8cbe26a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #14771 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14771) diff --git a/old/14771-8.txt b/old/14771-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0f440dd --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14771-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4108 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The False One, by Francis Beaumont and John +Fletcher, Edited by Arnold Glover + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The False One + +Author: Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +Release Date: January 23, 2005 [eBook #14771] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE ONE*** + + +E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, William Flis, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +THE FALSE ONE + +A Tragedy + +by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +Edited by Arnold Glover + + + + + + + + +PERSONS REPRESENTED IN THE PLAY. + + Julius Cæsar, _Emperour of_ Rome. + Ptolomy, _King of_ Ægypt. + Achoreus, _an honest Counsellor, Priest of_ Isis. + Photinus, _a Politician, minion to_ Ptolomy. + Achillas, _Captain of the Guard to_ Ptolomy. + Septimius, _a revolted Roman Villain._ + Labienus, _a Roman Souldier, and_ Nuncio. + Apollodorus, _Guardian to_ Cleopatra. + Antonie, ) + Dolabella, ) Cæsars _Captains._ + Sceva, _a free Speaker, also Captain to_ Cæsar. + _Guard._ + _Three lame Souldiers._ + _Servants._ + + +_WOMEN._ + + Cleopatra, _Queen of_ Ægypt. Cæsar's _Mistris._ + Arsino, Cleopatra's _Sister._ + Eros, Cleopatra's _waiting Woman._ + + + +_The Scene_ Ægypt. + + + +The principal Actors were, + + _John Lowin._ + _John Underwood._ + _Robert Benfield._ + _Richard Sharpe._ + _Joseph Taylor._ + _Nicholas Toolie._ + _John Rice._ + _George Birch._ + + + + +_ACTUS PRIMUS. SCENA PRIMA._ + + _Enter_ Achillas, _and_ Achoreus. + + [_Ach._] I love the King, nor do dispute his power, + (For that is not confin'd, nor to be censur'd + By me, that am his Subject) yet allow me + The liberty of a Man, that still would be + A friend to Justice, to demand the motives + That did induce young _Ptolomy_, or _Photinus_, + (To whose directions he gives up himself, + And I hope wisely) to commit his Sister, + The Princess _Cleopatra_ (if I said + The Queen) _Achillas_ 'twere (I hope) no treason, + She being by her Fathers Testament + (Whose memory I bow to) left Co-heir + In all he stood possest of. + + _Achil._ 'Tis confest + (My good _Achoreus_) that in these Eastern Kingdoms + Women are not exempted from the Sceptre, + But claim a priviledge, equal to the Male; + But how much such divisions have ta'en from + The Majesty of _Egypt_, and what factions + Have sprung from those partitions, to the ruine + Of the poor Subject, (doubtful which to follow,) + We have too many, and too sad examples, + Therefore the wise _Photinus_, to prevent + The Murthers, and the Massacres, that attend + On disunited Government, and to shew + The King without a Partner, in full splendour, + Thought it convenient the fair _Cleopatra_, + (An attribute not frequent to the Climate) + Should be committed in safe Custody, + In which she is attended like her Birth, + Until her Beauty, or her royal Dowre, + Hath found her out a Husband. + + _Ach._ How this may + Stand with the rules of policy, I know not; + Most sure I am, it holds no correspondence + With the Rites of _Ægypt_, or the Laws of Nature; + But grant that _Cleopatra_ can sit down + With this disgrace (though insupportable) + Can you imagine, that _Romes_ glorious Senate + (To whose charge, by the will of the dead King + This government was deliver'd) or great _Pompey_, + (That is appointed _Cleopatra_'s Guardian + As well as _Ptolomies_) will e're approve + Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought for, + That should authorize it? + + _Achil._ The Civil war + In which the _Roman_ Empire is embarqu'd + On a rough Sea of danger, does exact + Their whole care to preserve themselves, and gives them + No vacant time to think of what we do, + Which hardly can concern them. + + _Ach._ What's your opinion + Of the success? I have heard, in multitudes + Of Souldiers, and all glorious pomp of war, + _Pompey_ is much superiour. + + _Achil._ I could give you + A Catalogue of all the several Nations + From whence he drew his powers: but that were tedious. + They have rich arms, are ten to one in number, + Which makes them think the day already won; + And _Pompey_ being master of the Sea, + Such plenty of all delicates are brought in, + As if the place on which they are entrench'd, + Were not a Camp of Souldiers, but _Rome_, + In which _Lucullus_ and _Apicius_ joyn'd, + To make a publique Feast: they at _Dirachium_ + Fought with success; but knew not to make use of + _Fortunes_ fair offer: so much I have heard + _Cæsar_ himself confess. + + _Ach._ Where are they now? + + _Achil._ In _Thessalie_, near the _Pharsalian_ plains + Where _Cæsar_ with a handfull of his Men + Hems in the greater number: his whole troops + Exceed not twenty thousand, but old Souldiers + Flesh'd in the spoils of _Germany_ and _France_, + Inur'd to his Command, and only know + To fight and overcome; And though that _Famine_ + Raigns in his Camp, compelling them to tast + Bread made of roots, forbid the use of man, + (Which they with scorn threw into _Pompeys_ Camp + As in derision of his Delicates) + Or corn not yet half ripe, and that a Banquet: + They still besiege him, being ambitious only + To come to blows, and let their swords determine + Who hath the better Cause. + + _Enter_ Septi[m]ius. + + _Ach._ May Victory + Attend on't, where it is. + + _Achil._ We every hour + Expect to hear the issue. + + _Sep._ Save my good Lords; + By _Isis_ and _Osiris_, whom you worship; + And the four hundred gods and goddesses + Ador'd in _Rome_, I am your honours servant. + + _Ach._ Truth needs, _Septimius_, no oaths. + + _Achil._ You are cruel, + If you deny him swearing, you take from him + Three full parts of his language. + + _Sep._ Your Honour's bitter, + Confound me, where I love I cannot say it, + But I must swear't: yet such is my ill fortune, + Nor vows, nor protestations win belief, + I think, and (I can find no other reason) + Because I am a _Roman_. + + _Ach._ No _Septimius_, + To be a _Roman_ were an honour to you, + Did not your manners, and your life take from it, + And cry aloud, that from _Rome_ you bring nothing + But _Roman_ Vices, which you would plant here, + But no seed of her vertues. + + _Sep._ With your reverence + I am too old to learn. + + _Ach._ Any thing honest, + That I believe, without an oath. + + _Sep._ I fear + Your Lordship has slept ill to night, and that + Invites this sad discourse: 'twill make you old + Before your time:--O these vertuous Morals, + And old religious principles, that fool us! + I have brought you a new Song, will make you laugh, + Though you were at your prayers. + + _A[c]h._ What is the subject? + Be free _Septimius_. + + _Sep._ 'Tis a Catalogue + Of all the Gamesters of the Court and City, + Which Lord lyes with that Lady, and what Gallant + Sports with that Merchants wife; and does relate + Who sells her honour for a Diamond, + Who, for a tissew robe: whose husband's jealous, + And who so kind, that, to share with his wife, + Will make the match himself: + Harmless conceits, + Though fools say they are dangerous: I sang it + The last night at my Lord _Photinus_ table. + + _Ach._ How? as a Fidler? + + _Sep._ No Sir, as a Guest, + A welcom guest too: and it was approv'd of + By a dozen of his friends, though they were touch'd in't: + For look you, 'tis a kind of merriment, + When we have laid by foolish modesty + (As not a man of fashion will wear it) + To talk what we have done; at least to hear it; + If meerily set down, it fires the blood, + And heightens Crest-faln appetite. + + _Ach._ New doctrine! + + _Achil._ Was't of your own composing? + + _Sep._ No, I bought it + Of a skulking Scribler for two Ptolomies: + But the hints were mine own; the wretch was fearfull: + But I have damn'd my self, should it be question'd, + That I will own it. + + _Ach._ And be punished for it: + Take heed: for you may so long exercise + Your scurrilous wit against authority, + The Kingdoms Counsels; and make profane Jests, + (Which to you (being an atheist) is nothing) + Against Religion, that your great maintainers + (Unless they would be thought Co-partners with you) + Will leave you to the Law: and then, _Septimius_, + Remember there are whips. + + _Sep._ For whore's I grant you, + When they are out of date, till then are safe too, + Or all the Gallants of the Court are Eunuchs, + And for mine own defence I'le only add this, + I'le be admitted for a wanton tale + To some most private Cabinets, when your Priest-hood + (Though laden with the mysteries of your goddess) + Shall wait without unnoted: so I leave you + To your pious thoughts. [_Exit._ + + _Achil._ 'Tis a strange impudence, + This fellow does put on. + + _Ach._ The wonder great, + He is accepted of. + + _Achil._ Vices, for him, + Make as free way as vertues doe for others. + 'Tis the times fault: yet Great ones still have grace'd + To make them sport, or rub them o're with flattery, + Observers of all kinds. + + _Enter_ Photinus, _and_ Septimius. + + _Ach._ No more of him, + He is not worth our thoughts: a Fugitive + From _Pompeys_ army: and now in a danger + When he should use his service. + + _Achil._ See how he hangs + On great _Photinus_ Ear. + + _Sep._ Hell, and the furies, + And all the plagues of darkness light upon me: + You are my god on earth: and let me have + Your favour here, fall what can fall hereafter. + + _Pho._ Thou art believ'd: dost thou want mony? + + _Sep._ No Sir. + + _Pho._ Or hast thou any suite? these ever follow + Thy vehement protestations. + + _Sep._ You much wrong me; + How can I want, when your beams shine upon me, + Unless employment to express my zeal + To do your greatness service? do but think + A deed so dark, the Sun would blush to look on, + For which Man-kind would curse me, and arm all + The powers above, and those below against me: + Command me, I will on. + + _Pho._ When I have use, + I'le put you to the test. + + _Sep._ May it be speedy, + And something worth my danger: you are cold, + And know not your own powers: this brow was fashion'd + To wear a Kingly wreath, and your grave judgment, + Given to dispose of monarchies, not to govern + A childs affairs, the peoples eye's upon you, + The Souldier courts you: will you wear a garment + Of sordid loyalty when 'tis out of fashion? + + _Pho._ When _Pompey_ was thy General, _Septimius_, + Thou saidst as much to him. + + _Sep._ All my love to him, + To _Cæsar_, _Rome_, and the whole world is lost + In the Ocean of your Bounties: I have no friend, + Project, design, or Countrey, but your favour, + Which I'le preserve at any rate. + + _Pho._ No more; + When I call on you, fall not off: perhaps + Sooner than you expect, I may employ you, + So leave me for a while. + + _Sep._ Ever your Creature. [_Exit._ + + _Pho._ Good day _Achoreus_; my best friend _Achillas_, + Hath fame deliver'd yet no certain rumour + Of the great _Roman Action_? + + _Achil._ That we are + To enquire, and learn of you Sir: whose grave care + For _Egypts_ happiness, and great _Ptolomies_ good, + Hath eyes and ears in all parts. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Labienus, _Guard._ + + _Pho._ I'le not boast, + What my Intelligence costs me: but 'ere long + You shall know more. The King, with him a _Roman_. + + _Ach._ The scarlet livery of unfortunate war + Dy'd deeply on his face. + + _Achil._ 'Tis _Labienus_ + _Cæsars_ Lieutenant in the wars of _Gaul_, + And fortunate in all his undertakings: + But since these Civil jars he turn'd to _Pompey_, + And though he followed the better Cause + Not with the like success. + + _Pho._ Such as are wise + Leave falling buildings, flye to those that rise; + But more of that hereafter. + + _Lab._ In a word, Sir, + These gaping wounds, not taken as a slave, + Speak _Pompey's_ loss: to tell you of the Battail, + How many thousand several bloody shapes + Death wore that day in triumph: how we bore + The shock of _Cæsars_ charge: or with what fury + His Souldiers came on as if they had been + So many _Cæsars_, and like him ambitious + To tread upon the liberty of _Rome_: + How Fathers kill'd their Sons, or Sons their Fathers, + Or how the _Roman_ Piles on either side + Drew _Roman_ blood, which spent, the Prince of weapons, + (The sword) succeeded, which in Civil wars + Appoints the Tent on which wing'd victory + Shall make a certain Stand; then, how the Plains + Flow'd o're with blood, and what a cloud of vulturs + And other birds of prey, hung o're both armies, + Attending when their ready Servitors, + (The Souldiers, from whom the angry gods + Had took all sense of reason, and of pity) + Would serve in their own carkasses for a feast, + How _Cæsar_ with his Javelin force'd them on + That made the least stop, when their angry hands + Were lifted up against some known friends face; + Then coming to the body of the army + He shews the sacred _Senate_, and forbids them + To wast their force upon the Common Souldier, + Whom willingly, if e're he did know pity, + He would have spar'd. + + _Ptol._ The reason _Labienus_? + + _Lab._ Full well he knows, that in their blood he was + To pass to Empire, and that through their bowels + He must invade the Laws of _Rome_, and give + A period to the liberty of the world. + Then fell the _Lepidi_, and the bold _Corvini_, + The fam'd _Torquati_, _Scipio's_, and _Marcelli_, + (Names next to _Pompeys_, most renown'd on Earth) + The Nobles, and the Commons lay together, + And Pontique, Punique, and _Assyrian_ blood + Made up one crimson Lake: which _Pompey_ seeing, + And that his, and the fate of _Rome_ had left him + Standing upon the Rampier of his Camp, + Though scorning all that could fall on himself, + He pities them whose fortunes are embarqu'd + In his unlucky quarrel; cryes aloud too + That they should sound retreat, and save themselves: + That he desir'd not, so much noble blood + Should be lost in his service, or attend + On his misfortunes: and then, taking horse + With some few of his friends, he came to _Lesbos_, + And with _Cornelia_, his Wife, and Sons, + He's touch'd upon your shore: the King of _Parthia_, + (Famous in his defeature of the _Crassi_) + Offer'd him his protection, but _Pompey_ + Relying on his Benefits, and your Faith, + Hath chosen _Ægypt_ for his Sanctuary, + Till he may recollect his scattered powers, + And try a second day: now _Ptolomy_, + Though he appear not like that glorious thing + That three times rode in triumph, and gave laws + To conquer'd Nations, and made Crowns his gift + (As this of yours, your noble Father took + From his victorious hand, and you still wear it + At his devotion) to do you more honour + In his declin'd estate, as the straightst Pine + In a full grove of his yet flourishing friends, + He flyes to you for succour, and expects + The entertainment of your Fathers friend, + And Guardian to your self. + + _Ptol._ To say I grieve his fortune + As much as if the Crown I wear (his gift) + Were ravish'd from me, is a holy truth, + Our Gods can witness for me: yet, being young, + And not a free disposer of my self; + Let not a few hours, borrowed for advice, + Beget suspicion of unthankfulness, + (Which next to Hell I hate) pray you retire, + And take a little rest, and let his wounds + Be with that care attended, as they were + Carv'd on my flesh: good _Labienus_, think + The little respite, I desire shall be + Wholly emploi'd to find the readiest way + To doe great _Pompey_ service. + + _Lab._ May the gods + (As you intend) protect you. [_Exit._ + + _Ptol._ Sit: sit all, + It is my pleasure: your advice, and freely. + + _Ach._ A short deliberation in this, + May serve to give you counsel: to be honest, + Religious and thankfull, in themselves + Are forcible motives, and can need no flourish + Or gloss in the perswader; your kept faith, + (Though _Pompey_ never rise to th' height he's fallen from) + _Cæsar_ himself will love; and my opinion + Is (still committing it to graver censure) + You pay the debt you owe him, with the hazard + Of all you can call yours. + + _Ptol._ What's yours, (_Photinus_?) + + _Pho._ _Achoreus_ (great _Ptolomy_) hath counsell'd + Like a Religious, and honest man, + Worthy the honour that he justly holds + In being Priest to _Isis_: But alas, + What in a man, sequester'd from the world, + Or in a private person, is prefer'd, + No policy allows of in a King, + To be or just, or thankfull, makes Kings guilty, + And faith (though prais'd) is punish'd that supports + Such as good Fate forsakes: joyn with the gods, + Observe the man they favour, leave the wretched, + The Stars are not more distant from the Earth + Than profit is from honesty; all the power, + Prerogative, and greatness of a Prince + Is lost, if he descend once but to steer + His course, as what's right, guides him: let him leave + The Scepter, that strives only to be good, + Since Kingdomes are maintain'd by force and blood. + + _Ach._ Oh wicked! + + _Ptol._ Peace: goe on. + + _Pho._ Proud Pompey shews how much he scorns your youth, + In thinking that you cannot keep your own + From such as are or'e come. If you are tired + With being a King, let not a stranger take + What nearer pledges challenge: resign rather + The government of _Egypt_ and of _Nile_ + To _Cleopatra_, that has title to them, + At least defend them from the Roman _gripe_, + What was not _Pompeys_, while the wars endured, + The Conquerour will not challenge; by all the world + Forsaken and despis'd, your gentle Guardian + His hopes and fortunes desperate, makes choice of + What Nation he shall fall with: and pursu'd + By their pale ghosts, slain in this Civil war, + He flyes not _Cæsar_ only, but the Senate, + Of which, the greater part have cloi'd the hunger + Of sharp _Pharsalian_ fowl, he flies the Nations + That he drew to his Quarrel, whose Estates + Are sunk in his: and in no place receiv'd, + Hath found out _Egypt_, by him yet not ruin'd: + And _Ptolomy_, things consider'd, justly may + Complain of _Pompey_: wherefore should he stain + Our _Egypt_, with the spots of civil war? + Or make the peaceable, or quiet _Nile_ + Doubted of _Cæsar_? wherefore should he draw + His loss, and overthrow upon our heads? + Or choose this place to suffer in? already + We have offended _Cæsar_, in our wishes, + And no way left us to redeem his favour + But by the head of _Pompey_. + + _Ach._ Great _Osiris_, + Defend thy _Ægypt_ from such cruelty, + And barbarous ingratitude! + + _Pho._ Holy trifles, + And not to have place in designs of State; + This sword, which Fate commands me to unsheath, + I would not draw on _Pompey_, if not vanquish'd. + I grant it rather should have pass'd through _Cæsar_, + But we must follow where his fortune leads us; + All provident Princes measure their intents + According to their power, and so dispose them: + And thinkst thou (_Ptolomy_) that thou canst prop + His Ruines, under whom sad _Rome_ now suffers? + Or 'tempt the Conquerours force when 'tis confirm'd? + Shall we, that in the Battail sate as Neuters + Serve him that's overcome? No, no, he's lost. + And though 'tis noble to a sinking friend + To lend a helping hand, while there is hope + He may recover, thy part not engag'd + Though one most dear, when all his hopes are dead, + To drown him, set thy foot upon his head. + + _Ach._ Most execrable Counsel. + + _Pho._ To be follow'd, + 'Tis for the Kingdoms safety. + + _Ptol._ We give up + Our absolute power to thee: dispose of it + As reason shall direct thee. + + _Pho._ Good _Achillas_, + Seek out _Septimius_: do you but sooth him, + He is already wrought: leave the dispatch + To me of _Labienus_: 'tis determin'd + Already how you shall proceed: nor Fate + Shall alter it, since now the dye is cast, + But that this hour to _Pompey_ is his last. [_Exit._ + + + +SCENA II. + + + _Enter_ Apollodorus, Eros, Arsino. + + _Apol._ Is the Queen stirring, _Eros_? + + _Eros._ Yes, for in truth + She touch'd no bed to night. + + _Apol._ I am sorry for it, + And wish it were in me, with my hazard, + To give her ease. + + _Ars._ Sir, she accepts your will, + And does acknowledge she hath found you noble, + So far, as if restraint of liberty + Could give admission to a thought of mirth, + She is your debtor for it. + + _Apol._ Did you tell her + Of the sports I have prepar'd to entertain her? + She was us'd to take delight, with her fair hand, + To angle in the _Nile_, where the glad fish + (As if they knew who 'twas sought to deceive 'em) + Contended to be taken: other times + To strike the Stag, who wounded by her arrows, + Forgot his tears in death, and kneeling thanks her + To his last gasp, then prouder of his Fate, + Than if with Garlands Crown'd, he had been chosen + To fall a Sacrifice before the altar + Of the Virgin Huntress: the King, nor great _Photinus_ + Forbid her any pleasure; and the Circuit + In which she is confin'd, gladly affords + Variety of pastimes, which I would + Encrease with my best service. + + _Eros._ O, but the thought + That she that was born free, and to dispense + Restraint, or liberty to others, should be + At the devotion of her Brother, whom + She only knows her equal, makes this place + In which she lives (though stor'd with all delights) + A loathsome dungeon to her. + + _Apol._ Yet, (howe're + She shall interpret it) I'le not be wanting + To do my best to serve her: I have prepar'd + Choise Musick near her Cabinet, and compos'd + Some few lines, (set unto a solemn time) + In the praise of imprisonment. Begin Boy. + +THE SONG. + + _Look out bright eyes, and bless the air:_ + _Even in shadows you are fair._ + _Shut-up-beauty is like fire,_ + _That breaks out clearer still and higher._ + _Though your body be confin'd,_ + _And soft Love a prisoner bound,_ + _Yet the beauty of your mind_ + _Neither check, nor chain hath found._ + _Look out nobly then, and dare_ + _Even the Fetters that you wear._ + + _Enter_ Cleopatra. + + _Cleo._ But that we are assur'd this tastes of duty, + And love in you, my _Guardian_, and desire + In you, my _Sister_, and the rest, to please us, + We should receive this, as a sawcy rudeness + Offer'd our private thoughts. But your intents + Are to delight us: alas, you wash an _Ethiop_: + Can _Cleopatra_, while she does remember + Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O + I suffer in the name) and that (in Justice) + There is no place in _Ægypt_, where I stand, + But that the tributary Earth is proud + To kiss the foot of her, that is her Queen, + Can she, I say, that is all this, e're relish + Of comfort, or delight, while base _Photinus_, + Bond-man _Achillas_, and all other monsters + That raign o're _Ptolomy_, make that a Court, + Where they reside, and this, where I, a Prison? + But there's a _Rome_, a _Senate_, and a _Cæsar_, + (Though the great _Pompey_ lean to _Ptolomy_) + May think of _Cleopatra_. + + _Ap._ _Pompey_, Madam? + + _Cleo._ What of him? speak: if ill, _Apollodorus_, + It is my happiness: and for thy news + Receive a favour (_Kings_ have kneel'd in vain for) + And kiss my hand. + + _Ap._ He's lost. + + _Cleo._ Speak it again! + + _Ap._ His army routed: he fled and pursu'd + By the all-conquering Cæsar. + + _Cleo._ Whither bends he? + + _Ap._ To _Egypt_. + + _Cleo._ Ha! in person? + + _Ap._ 'Tis receiv'd + For an undoubted truth. + + _Cleo._ I live again, + And if assurance of my love, and beauty + Deceive me not, I now shall find a Judge + To do me right: but how to free my self, + And get access? the _Guards_ are strong upon me, + This door I must pass through. _Apollodorus_, + Thou often hast profess'd (to do me service,) + Thy life was not thine own. + + _Ap._ I am not alter'd; + And let your excellency propound a means, + In which I may but give the least assistance, + That may restore you, to that you were born to, + (Though it call on the anger of the King, + Or, (what's more deadly) all his Minion + _Photinus_ can do to me) I, unmov'd, + Offer my throat to serve you: ever provided, + It bear some probable shew to be effected. + To lose my self upon no ground, were madness, + Not loyal duty. + + _Cleo._ Stand off: to thee alone, + I will discover what I dare not trust + My Sister with, _Cæsar_ is amorous, + And taken more with the title of a Queen, + Than feature or proportion, he lov'd _Eunoe_, + A _Moor_, deformed too, I have heard, that brought + No other object to inflame his blood, + But that her Husband was a King, on both + He did bestow rich presents; shall I then, + That with a princely birth, bring beauty with me, + That know to prize my self at mine own rate, + Despair his favour? art thou mine? + + _Ap._ I am. + + _Cleo._ I have found out a way shall bring me to him, + Spight of _Photinus_ watches; if I prosper, + (As I am confident I shall) expect + Things greater than thy wishes; though I purchase + His grace with loss of my virginity, + It skills not, if it bring home Majesty. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_ACTUS SECUNDUS. SCENA PRIMA._ + + _Enter_ Septimius, _with a head_, Achillas, _Guard._ + + _Sep._ 'Tis here, 'tis done, behold you fearfull viewers, + Shake, and behold the model of the world here, + The pride, and strength, look, look again, 'tis finish'd; + That, that whole Armies, nay whole nations, + Many and mighty Kings, have been struck blind at, + And fled before, wing'd with their fears and terrours, + That steel war waited on, and fortune courted, + That high plum'd honour built up for her own; + Behold that mightiness, behold that fierceness, + Behold that child of war, with all his glories; + By this poor hand made breathless, here (my _Achillas_) + _Egypt_, and _Cæsar_, owe me for this service, + And all the conquer'd Nations. + + _Ach._ Peace _Septimius_, + Thy words sound more ungratefull than thy actions, + Though sometimes safety seek an instrument + Of thy unworthy nature, thou (loud boaster) + Think not she is bound to love him too, that's barbarous. + Why did not I, if this be meritorious, + And binds the King unto me, and his bounties, + Strike this rude stroke? I'le tell thee (thou poor _Roman_) + It was a sacred head, I durst not heave at, + Not heave a thought. + + _Sep._ It was. + + _Ach._ I'le tell thee truely, + And if thou ever yet heard'st tell of honour, + I'le make thee blush: It was thy General's; + That mans that fed thee once, that mans that bred thee, + The air thou breath'dst was his; the fire that warm'd thee, + From his care kindled ever, nay, I'le show thee, + (Because I'le make thee sensible of the business, + And why a noble man durst not touch at it) + There was no piece of Earth, thou putst thy foot on + But was his conquest; and he gave thee motion. + He triumph'd three times, who durst touch his person? + The very walls of _Rome_ bow'd to his presence, + Dear to the Gods he was, to them that fear'd him + A fair and noble Enemy. Didst thou hate him? + And for thy love to _Cæsar_, sought his ruine? + Arm'd in the red _Pharsalian_ fields, _Septimius_, + Where killing was in grace, and wounds were glorious, + Where Kings were fair competitours for honour, + Thou shouldst have come up to him, there have fought him, + There, Sword to Sword. + + _Sep._ I kill'd him on commandment, + If Kings commands be fair, when you all fainted, + When none of you durst look-- + + _Ach._ On deeds so barbarous, + What hast thou got? + + _Sep._ The Kings love, and his bounty, + The honour of the service, which though you rail at, + Or a thousand envious souls fling their foams on me, + Will dignifie the cause, and make me glorious: + And I shall live. + + _Ach._ A miserable villain, + What reputation, and reward belongs to it + Thus (with the head) I seize on, and make mine; + And be not impudent to ask me why, Sirrah, + Nor bold to stay, read in mine eyes the reason: + The shame and obloquy I leave thine own, + Inherit those rewards, they are fitter for thee, + Your oyl's spent, and your snuff stinks: go out basely. + + [_Exit._ + + _Sep._ The King will yet consider. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus. + + _Achil._ Here he comes Sir. + + _Ach._ Yet if it be undone: hear me great Sir, + If this inhumane stroak be yet unstrucken, + If that adored head be not yet sever'd + From the most noble Body, weigh the miseries, + The desolations that this great Eclipse works, + You are young, be provident: fix not your Empire + Upon the Tomb of him will shake all _Egypt_, + Whose warlike groans will raise ten thousand Spirits, + (Great as himself) in every hand a thunder; + Destructions darting from their looks, and sorrows + That easy womens eyes shall never empty. + + _Pho._ You have done well; and 'tis done, see _Achillas_, + And in his hand the head. + + _Ptol._ Stay come no nearer, + Me thinks I feel the very earth shake under me, + I do remember him, he was my guardian, + Appointed by the Senate to preserve me: + What a full Majesty sits in his face yet? + + _Pho._ The King is troubled: be not frighted Sir, + Be not abus'd with fears; his death was necessary, + If you consider, Sir, most necessary, + Not to be miss'd: and humbly thank great _Isis_, + He came so opportunely to your hands; + Pity must now give place to rules of safety. + Is not victorious _Cæsar_ new arriv'd, + And enter'd _Alexandria_, with his friends, + His _Navy_ riding by to wait his charges? + Did he not beat this _Pompey_, and pursu'd him? + Was not this great man, his great enemy? + This Godlike vertuous man, as people held him, + But what fool dare be friend to flying vertue? + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Anthony, Dolabella, Sceva. + + I hear their Trumpets, 'tis too late to stagger, + Give me the head, and be you confident: + Hail Conquerour, and head of all the world, + Now this head's off. + + _Cæsar_. Ha? + + _Pho._ Do not shun me, _Cæsar_, + From kingly _Ptolomy_ I bring this present, + The Crown, and sweat of thy _Pharsalian_ labour: + The goal and mark of high ambitious honour. + Before thy victory had no name, _Cæsar_, + Thy travel and thy loss of blood, no recompence, + Thou dreamst of being worthy, and of war; + And all thy furious conflicts were but slumbers, + Here they take life: here they inherit honour, + Grow fixt, and shoot up everlasting triumphs: + Take it, and look upon thy humble servant, + With noble eyes look on the Princely _Ptolomy_, + That offers with this head (most mighty _Cæsar_) + What thou would'st once have given for it, all _Egypt_. + + _Ach._ Nor do not question it (most royal Conquerour) + Nor dis-esteem the benefit that meets thee, + Because 'tis easily got, it comes the safer: + Yet let me tell thee (most imperious _Cæsar_) + Though he oppos'd no strength of Swords to win this, + Nor labour'd through no showres of darts, and lances: + Yet here he found a fort, that faced him strongly, + An inward war: he was his Grand-sires Guest; + Friend to his Father, and when he was expell'd + And beaten from this Kingdom by strong hand, + And had none left him, to restore his honour, + No hope to find a friend, in such a misery; + Then in stept _Pompey_; took his feeble fortune: + Strengthen'd, and cherish'd it, and set it right again, + This was a love to _Cæsar_. + + _Sceva._ Give me, hate, Gods. + + _Pho._ This _Cæsar_ may account a little wicked, + But yet remember, if thine own hands, Conquerour, + Had fallen upon him, what it had been then? + If thine own sword had touch'd his throat, what that way! + He was thy Son in Law, there to be tainted, + Had been most terrible: let the worst be render'd, + We have deserv'd for keeping thy hands innocent. + + _Cæsar._ Oh _Sceva, Sceva_, see that head: see Captains, + The head of godlike _Pompey_. + + _Sceva._ He was basely ruin'd, + But let the Gods be griev'd that suffer'd it, + And be you Cæsar-- + + _Cæsar._ Oh thou Conquerour, + Thou glory of the world once, now the pity: + Thou awe of Nations, wherefore didst thou fall thus? + What poor fate follow'd thee, and pluckt thee on + To trust thy sacred life to an _Egyptian_; + The life and light of _Rome_, to a blind stranger, + That honorable war ne'r taught a nobleness, + Nor worthy circumstance shew'd what a man was, + That never heard thy name sung, but in banquets; + And loose lascivious pleasures? to a Boy, + That had no faith to comprehend thy greatness, + No study of thy life to know thy goodness; + And leave thy Nation, nay, thy noble friend, + Leave him (distrusted) that in tears falls with thee? + (In soft relenting tears) hear me (great _Pompey_) + (If thy great spirit can hear) I must task thee: + Thou hast most unnobly rob'd me of my victory, + My love, and mercy. + + _Ant._ O how brave these tears shew! + How excellent is sorrow in an Enemy! + + _Dol._ Glory appears not greater than this goodness. + + _Cæsar._ _Egyptians_, dare you think your high _Pyramides_, + Built to out-dare the Sun, as you suppose, + Where your unworthy Kings lye rak'd in ashes, + Are monuments fit for him? no, (brood of _Nilus_) + Nothing can cover his high fame, but Heaven; + No _Pyramides_ set off his memories, + But the eternal substance of his greatness + To which I leave him: take the head away, + And (with the body) give it noble burial, + Your Earth shall now be bless'd to hold a _Roman_, + Whose braverys all the worlds-Earth cannot ballance. + + _Sce._ If thou bee'st thus loving, I shall honour thee, + But great men may dissemble, 'tis held possible, + And be right glad of what they seem to weep for, + There are such kind of Philosophers; now do I wonder + How he would look if _Pompey_ were alive again, + But how he would set his face? + + _Cæsar._ You look now, King, + And you that have been Agents in this glory, + For our especial favour? + + _Ptol._ We desire it. + + _Cæsar._ And doubtless you expect rewards. + + _Sceva_. Let me give 'em: + I'le give 'em such as nature never dreamt of, + I'le beat him and his Agents (in a morter) + Into one man, and that one man I'le bake then. + + _Cæsar_. Peace: I forgive you all, that's recompence: + You are young, and ignorant, that pleads your pardon, + And fear it may be more than hate provok'd ye, + Your Ministers, I must think, wanted judgment, + And so they err'd: I am bountiful to think this; + Believe me most bountiful; be you most thankful, + That bounty share amongst ye: if I knew + What to send you for a present, King of _Egypt_, + (I mean a head of equal reputation + And that you lov'd) though it were your brightest Sisters, + (But her you hate) I would not be behind ye. + + _Ptol._ Hear me, (Great _Cæsar_.) + + _Cæs._ I have heard too much, + And study not with smooth shews to invade + My noble Mind as you have done my Conquest. + Ye are poor and open: I must tell ye roundly, + That Man that could not recompence the Benefits, + The great and bounteous services of _Pompey_, + Can never dote upon the Name of _Cæsar_; + Though I had hated _Pompey_, and allow'd his ruine, + [I gave you no commission to performe it:] + Hasty to please in Blood are seldome trusty; + And but I stand inviron'd with my Victories, + My Fortune never failing to befriend me, + My noble strengths, and friends about my Person, + I durst not try ye, nor expect: a Courtesie, + Above the pious love you shew'd to _Pompey_. + You have found me merciful in arguing with you; + Swords, Hangmen, Fires, Destructions of all natures, + Demolishments of Kingdoms, and whole Ruines + Are wont to be my Orators; turn to tears, + You wretched and poor seeds of Sun-burnt _Egypt_, + And now you have found the nature of a Conquerour, + That you cannot decline with all your flatteries, + That where the day gives light will be himself still, + Know how to meet his Worth with humane Courtesies, + Go, and embalm those bones of that great Souldier; + Howl round about his Pile, fling on your Spices, + Make a _Sabæan_ Bed, and place this Phoenix + Where the hot Sun may emulate his Vertues, + And draw another _Pompey_ from his ashes + Divinely great, and fix him 'mongst the Worthies. + + _Ptol._ We will do all. + + _Cæs._ You have rob'd him of those tears + His Kindred and his Friends kept sacred for him; + The Virgins of their Funeral Lamentations: + And that kind Earth that thought to cover him, + (His Countries Earth) will cry out 'gainst your Cruelty, + And weep unto the Ocean for revenge, + Till _Nilus_ raise his seven heads and devour ye; + My grief has stopt the rest: when _Pompey_ liv'd + He us'd you nobly, now he is dead use him so. [_Exit._ + + _Ptol._ Now, where's your confidence? your aim (_Photinus_) + The Oracles, and fair Favours from the Conquerour + You rung into mine Ears? how stand I now? + You see the tempest of his stern displeasure, + The death of him you urged a Sacrifice + To stop his Rage, presaging a full ruine; + Where are your Counsels now? + + _Acho._ I told you, Sir, + (And told the truth) what danger would flye after; + And though an Enemy, I satisfied you + He was a _Roman_, and the top of Honour; + And howsoever this might please Great _Cæsar_, + I told ye that the foulness of his Death, + The impious baseness-- + + _Pho._ Peace, you are a Fool, + Men of deep ends must tread as deep ways to 'em; + _Cæsar_ I know is pleas'd, and for all his sorrows + (Which are put on for forms and meer dissemblings) + I am confident he's glad; to have told ye so, + And thank ye outwardly, had been too open, + And taken from the Wisedom of a Conquerour. + Be confident and proud ye have done this service; + Ye have deserv'd, and ye will find it highly: + Make bold use of this benefit, and be sure + You keep your Sister, (the high-soul'd Cleopatra) + Both close and short enough, she may not see him; + The rest, if I may counsel, Sir-- + + _Ptol._ Do all; + For in thy faithful service rests my safety. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENE II. + + _Enter_ Septimius. + + _Sept._ Here's a strange alteration in the Court; + Mens Faces are of other setts and motions, + Their minds of subtler stuff; I pass by now + As though I were a Rascal, no man knows me, + No Eye looks after; as I were a Plague + Their doors shut close against me; and I wondred at + Because I have done a meritorious Murther; + Because I have pleas'd the Time, does the Time plague me? + I have known the day they would have hug'd me for it, + For a less stroke than this have done me Reverence; + Open'd their Hearts and secret Closets to me, + Their Purses, and their Pleasures, and bid me wallow. + I now perceive the great Thieves eat the less, + And the huge Leviathans of Villany + Sup up the merits, nay the men and all + That do them service, and spowt 'em out again + Into the air, as thin and unregarded + As drops of Water that are lost i'th' Ocean: + I was lov'd once for swearing, and for drinking, + And for other principal Qualities that became me, + Now a foolish unthankful Murther has undone me, + If my Lord _Photinus_ be not merciful + + _Enter_ Photinus. + + That set me on; And he comes, now Fortune. + + _Pho._ Cæsars unthankfulness a little stirs me, + A little frets my bloud; take heed, proud _Roman_, + Provoke me not, stir not mine anger farther; + I may find out a way unto thy life too, + (Though arm'd in all thy Victories) and seize it. + A Conquerour has a heart, and I may hit it. + + _Sept_. May it please your Lordship? + + _Pho._ O _Septimius_! + + _Sept._ Your [Lordship] knows my wrongs. + + _Pho._ Wrongs? + + _Sept._ Yes, my Lord, + How the Captain of the Guard, _Achillas_, slights me. + + _Pho._ Think better of him, he has much befriended thee, + Shew'd thee much love in taking the head from thee. + The times are alter'd (Souldier) _Cæsar's_ angry, + And our design to please him lost and perish'd; + Be glad thou art unnam'd, 'tis not worth the owning; + Yet, that thou maist be useful-- + + _Sept._ Yes, my Lord, + I shall be ready. + + _Pho._ For I may employ thee + To take a rub or two out of my way, + As time shall serve, say that it be a Brother? + Or a hard Father? + + _Sept._ 'Tis most necessary, + A Mother, or a Sister, or whom you please, Sir. + + _Pho._ Or to betray a noble Friend? + + _Sept._ 'Tis all one. + + _Pho._ I know thou wilt stir for Gold. + + _Sept._ 'Tis all my motion. + + _Pho._ There, take that for thy service, and farewel; + I have greater business now. + + _Sept._ I am still your own, Sir. + + _Pho._ One thing I charge thee, see me no more, _Septimius_, + Unless I send. [_Exit._ + + _Sept._ I shall observe your hour. + So, this brings something in the mouth, some savour; + This is the Lord I serve, the Power I worship, + My Friends, Allies, and here lies my Allegiance. + Let People talk as they please of my rudeness, + And shun me for my deed; bring but this to 'em, + (Let me be damn'd for blood) yet still I am honourable, + This God creates new tongues, and new affections; + And though I had kill'd my Father, give me Gold + I'll make men swear I have done a pious Sacrifice; + Now I will out-brave all; make all my Servants, + And my brave deed shall be writ in Wine, for vertuous. [_Exit._ + + + +SCENE III. + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva. + + _Cæs._ Keep strong Guards, and with wary eyes (my friends) + There is no trusting to these base _Egyptians_; + They that are false to pious benefits, + And make compell'd necessities their faiths + Are Traitors to the gods. + + _Ant._ We'll call ashore + A Legion of the best. + + _Cæs._ Not a Man, _Antony_, + That were to shew our fears, and dim our greatness: + No, 'tis enough my Name's ashore. + + _Sce._ Too much too, + A sleeping _Cæsar_ is enough to shake them; + There are some two or three malicious Rascals + Train'd up in Villany, besides that _Cerberus_ + That _Roman_ Dog, that lick'd the blood of _Pompey_. + + _Dol._ 'Tis strange, a _Roman_ Souldier? + + _Sce._ You are cozen'd, + There be of us as be of all other Nations, + Villains, and Knaves; 'tis not the name contains him, + But the obedience; when that's once forgotten, + And Duty flung away, then welcome Devil. + _Photinus_ and _Achillas_, and this Vermine + That's now become a natural Crocodile + Must be with care observ'd. + + _Ant._ And 'tis well counsel'd + No Confidence, nor trust-- + + _Sce._ I'll trust the Sea first, + When with her hollow murmurs she invites me, + And clutches in her storms, as politick Lions + Conceal their Claws; I'll trust the Devil first. + + _Cæs._ Go to your rests, and follow your own Wisedoms, + And leave me to my thoughts: pray no more complement, + Once more strong Watches. + + _Dol._ All shall be observ'd, Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Cæs._ I am dull and heavy, yet I cannot sleep, + How happy was I in my lawful Wars, + In _Germany_, and _Gaul_, and _Britanny_ + When every night with pleasure I set down + What the day ministred! The sleep came sweetly: + But since I undertook this home-division, + This civil War, and past the _Rubicon_; + What have I done that speaks an ancient _Roman_? + A good, great man? I have enter'd _Rome_ by force, + And on her tender Womb (that gave me life) + Let my insulting Souldiers rudely trample, + The dear Veins of my Country I have open'd, + And sail'd upon the torrents that flow'd from her, + The bloody streams that in their confluence + Carried before 'em thousand desolations; + I rob'd the Treasury, and at one gripe + Snatch'd all the wealth, so many worthy triumphs + Plac'd there as sacred to the Peace of _Rome_; + I raz'd _Massilia_, in my wanton anger: + _Petreius_ and _Afranius_ I defeated: + _Pompey_ I overthrew: what did that get me? + The slubber'd Name of an authoriz'd Enemy. [_Noise within._ + I hear some Noise; they are the Watches sure. + What Friends have I ty'd fast by these ambitions? + _Cato_, the Lover of his Countries freedom, + Is now past into _Africk_ to affront me, + _Fuba_ (that kill'd my friend) is up in Arms too; + The Sons of _Pompey_ are Masters of the Sea, + And from the reliques of their scatter'd faction, + A new head's sprung; Say I defeat all these too; + I come home crown'd an honourable Rebel. + I hear the Noise still, and it still comes nearer; + Are the Guards fast? Who waits there? + + _Enter_ Sceva _with a Packet_, Cleopatra _in it._ + + _Sce._ Are ye awake Sir? + + _Cæs._ I'th' name of Wonder. + + _Sce._ Nay, I am a Porter, + A strong one too, or else my sides would crack, Sir, + And my sins were as weighty, I should scarce walk with 'em. + + _Cæs._ What hast thou there? + + _Sce._ Ask them which stay without, + And brought it hither, your Presence I deny'd 'em, + And put 'em by; took up the load my self, + They say 'tis rich, and valu'd at the Kingdome, + I am sure 'tis heavy; if you like to see it + You may: if not, I'll give it back. + + _Cæs._ Stay _Sceva_, + I would fain see it. + + _Sce._ I'll begin to work then; + No doubt, to flatter ye they have sent ye something, + Of a rich value, Jewels, or some rich Treasure; + May be a Rogue within to do a mischief; + I pray you stand farther off, if there be villany, + Better my danger first; he shall 'scape hard too, + Ha! what art thou? + + _Cæs._ Stand farther off, good _Sceva_, + What heavenly Vision! do I wake or slumber? + Farther off that hand, Friend. + + _Sce._ What Apparition? + What Spirit have I rais'd? sure 'tis a Woman, + She looks like one; now she begins to move too: + A tempting Devil, o' my life; go off, _Cæsar_, + Bless thy self, off: a Bawd grown in mine old days? + Bawdry advanc'd upon my back? 'tis noble: + Sir, if you be a Souldier come no nearer, + She is sent to dispossess you of your honour, + A Spunge, a Spunge to wipe away your Victories: + And she would be cool'd, Sir, let the Souldiers trim her! + They'll give her that she came for, and dispatch her; + Be loyal to your self. Thou damned Woman, + Dost thou come hither with thy flourishes, + Thy flaunts, and faces to abuse mens manners? + And am I made the instrument of Bawdry? + I'll find a Lover for ye, one that shall hug ye. + + _Cæs._ Hold, on thy life, and be more temperate, + Thou Beast. + + _Sce._ Thou Beast? + + _Cæs._ Could'st thou be so inhumane, + So far from noble Men, to draw thy Weapon + Upon a thing divine? + + _Sce._ Divine, or humane, + They are never better pleas'd, nor more at hearts ease, + Than when we draw with full intent upon 'em. + + _Cæs._ Move this way (Lady) + 'Pray ye let me speak to ye. + + _Sce._ And Woman, you had best stand. + + _Cæs._ By the gods, + But that I see her here, and hope her mortal, + I should imagine some celestial sweetness, + The treasure of soft love. + + _Sce._ Oh, this sounds mangily, + Poorly, and scurvily in a Souldiers mouth: + You had best be troubled with the Tooth-ach too, + For Lovers ever are, and let your Nose drop + That your celestial Beauty may befriend ye; + At these years do you learn to be fantastical? + After so many bloody fields, a Fool? + She brings her Bed along too, she'll lose no time, + Carries her Litter to lye soft, do you see that? + Invites ye like a Gamester: note that impudence, + For shame reflect upon your self, your honour, + Look back into your noble parts, and blush: + Let not the dear sweat of the hot _Pharsalia_, + Mingle with base _Embraces_; am I he + That have receiv'd so many wounds for _Cæsar_? + Upon my Target groves of darts still growing? + Have I endur'd all hungers, colds, distresses, + And (as I had been bred that Iron that arm'd me) + Stood out all weathers, now to curse my fortune? + To ban the blood I lost for such a General? + + _Cæsar_. Offend no more: be gone. + + _Sce._ I will, and leave ye, + Leave ye to womens wars, that will proclaim ye: + You'l conquer _Rome_ now, and the Capitol + With Fans, and Looking-glasses, farewel Cæsar. + + _Cleo._ Now I am private Sir, I dare speak to ye: + But thus low first, for as a God I honour ye. + + _Sce._ Lower you'l be anon. + + _Cæsar_. Away. + + _Sce._ And privater, + For that you covet all. [_Exit._ + + _Cæsar_. Tempt me no farther. + + _Cleo._ Contemn me not, because I kneel thus, _Cæsar_, + I am a Queen, and coheir to this country, + The Sister to the mighty _Ptolomy_, + Yet one distress'd, that flyes unto thy justice, + One that layes sacred hold on thy protection + As on an holy Altar, to preserve me. + + _Cæsar_. Speak Queen of beauty, and stand up. + + _Cleo._ I dare not, + 'Till I have found that favour in thine eyes, + That godlike great humanity to help me, + Thus, to thy knees must I grow (sacred _Cæsar_,) + And if it be not in thy will, to right me, + And raise me like a Queen from my sad ruines, + If these soft tears cannot sink to thy pity, + And waken with their murmurs thy compassions; + Yet for thy nobleness, for vertues sake, + And if thou beest a man, for despis'd beauty, + For honourable conquest, which thou doat'st on, + Let not those cankers of this flourishing Kingdom, + _Photinus_, and _Achillas_, (the one an Eunuch, + The other a base bondman) thus raign over me. + Seize my inheritance, and leave my Brother + Nothing of what he should be, but the Title, + As thou art wonder of the world. + + _Cæsar_. Stand up then + And be a Queen, this hand shall give it to ye, + Or choose a greater name, worthy my bounty: + A common love makes Queens: choose to be worshipped, + To be divinely great, and I dare promise it; + A suitor of your sort, and blessed sweetness, + That hath adventur'd thus to see great _Cæsar_, + Must never be denied, you have found a patron + That dare not in his private honour suffer + So great a blemish to the Heaven of beauty: + The God of love would clap his angry wings, + And from his singing bow let flye those arrows + Headed with burning griefs, and pining sorrows, + Should I neglect your cause, would make me monstrous, + To whom and to your service I devote me. + + _Enter_ Sceva. + + _Cleo._ He is my conquest now, and so I'le work him, + The conquerour of the world will I lead captive. + + _Sce._ Still with this woman? tilting still with Babies? + As you are honest think the Enemy, + Some valiant Foe indeed now charging on ye: + Ready to break your ranks, and fling these-- + + _Cæsar_. Hear me, + But tell me true, if thou hadst such a treasure, + (And as thou art a Souldier, do not flatter me) + Such a bright gem, brought to thee, wouldst thou not + Most greedily accept? + + _Sce._ Not as an Emperour, + A man that first should rule himself, then others; + As a poor hungry Souldier, I might bite, Sir, + Yet that's a weakness too: hear me, thou Tempter: + And hear thou _Cæsar_ too, for it concerns thee, + And if thy flesh be deaf, yet let thine honour, + The soul of a commander, give ear to me, + Thou wanton bane of war, thou guilded Lethargy, + In whose embraces, ease (the rust of Arms) + And pleasure, (that makes Souldiers poor) inhabites. + + _Cæsar_. Fye, thou blasphem'st. + + _Sce._ I do, when she is a goddess. + Thou melter of strong minds, dar'st thou presume + To smother all his triumphs, with thy vanities, + And tye him like a slave, to thy proud beauties? + To thy imperious looks? that Kings have follow'd + Proud of their chains? have waited on? I shame Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Cæsar_. Alas thou art rather mad: take thy rest _Sceva_, + Thy duty makes thee erre, but I forgive thee: + Go, go I say, shew me no disobedience: + 'Tis well, farewel, the day will break dear Lady, + My Souldiers will come in; please you retire, + And think upon your servant. + + _Cleo._ Pray you Sir, know me, + And what I am. + + _Cæsar_. The greater, I more love ye, + And you must know me too. + + _Cleo._ So far as modesty, + And majesty gives leave Sir, ye are too violent. + + _Cæsar_. You are too cold to my desires. + + _Cleo._ Swear to me, + And by your self (for I hold that oath sacred) + You will right me as a Queen-- + + _Cæsar_. These lips be witness, + And if I break that oath-- + + _Cleo._ You make me blush Sir, + And in that blush interpret me. + + _Cæsar_. I will do, + Come let's go in, and blush again: this one word, + You shall believe. + + _Cleo._ I must, you are a conquerour. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +ACTUS TERTIUS. SCENA PRIMA. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Photinus. + + _Pho._ Good Sir, but hear. + + _Ptol._ No more, you have undone me, + That, that I hourly fear'd, is fain upon me, + And heavily, and deadly. + + _Pho._ Hear a remedy. + + _Ptol._ A remedy now the disease is ulcerous? + And has infected all? your secure negligence + Has broke through all the hopes I have, and ruin'd me: + My Sister is with _Cæsar_, in his chamber, + All night she has been with him; and no doubt + Much to her honour. + + _Pho._ Would that were the worst, Sir, + That will repair it self: but I fear mainly, + She has made her peace with _Cæsar_. + + _Ptol._ 'Tis most likely, + And what am I then? + + _Pho._ 'Plague upon that Rascal + _Apollod[or]us_, under whose command, + Under whose eye-- + + _Enter_ Achillas. + + _Ptol._ Curse on you all, ye are wretches. + + _Pho._ 'Twas providently done, _Achillas_. + + _Achil._ Pardon me. + + _Pho._ Your guards were rarely wise, and wondrous watchfull. + + _Achil._ I could not help it, if my life had lain for't, + Alas, who would suspect a pack of bedding, + Or a small Truss of houshold furniture? + And as they said, for Cæsars use: or who durst + (Being for his private chamber) seek to stop it? + I was abus'd. + + _Enter_ Achoreus. + + _Ach._ 'Tis no hour now for anger: + No wisdom to debate with fruitless choler, + Let us consider timely what we must do, + Since she is flown to his protection, + From whom we have no power to sever her, + Nor force conditions-- + + _Ptol._ Speak (good _Achoreus_) + + _Ach._ Let indirect and crooked counsels vanish, + And straight, and fair directions-- + + _Pho._ Speak your mind Sir. + + _Ach._ Let us choose _Cæsar_, (and endear him to us,) + An Arbitrator in all differences + Betwixt you, and your Sister; this is safe now: + And will shew off, most honourable. + + _Pho._ Base, + Most base and poor; a servile, cold submission: + Hear me, and pluck your hearts up, like stout Counsellours, + Since we are sensible this _Cæsar_ loathes us, + And have begun our fortune with great Pompey, + Be of my mind. + + _Ach._ 'Tis most uncomely spoken, + And if I say most bloodily, I lye not: + The law of hospitality it poysons, + And calls the Gods in question that dwell in us, + Be wise O King. + + _Ptol._ I will be: go my counsellour, + To _Cæsar_ go, and do my humble service: + To my fair Sister my commends negotiate, + And here I ratifie what e're thou treat'st on. + + _Ach._ Crown'd with fair peace, I go. [_Exit._ + + _Ptol._ My love go with thee, + And from my love go you, you cruel vipers: + You shall know now I am no ward, _Photinus_. [_Exit._ + + _Pho._ This for our service? + Princes do their pleasures, + And they that serve obey in all disgraces: + The lowest we can fall to, is our graves, + There we shall know no diffrence: heark _Achillas_, + I may do something yet, when times are ripe, + To tell this raw unthankful! King. + + _Achil._ _Photinus_, + What e're it be I shall make one: and zealously: + For better dye attempting something nobly, + Than fall disgraced. + + _Pho._ Thou lov'st me and I thank thee. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Antony, Dolabella, Sceva. + + _Dol._ Nay there's no rowsing him: he is bewitch'd sure, + His noble blood curdled, and cold within him; + Grown now a womans warriour. + + _Sce._ And a tall one: + Studies her fortifications, and her breaches, + And how he may advance his ram to batter + The Bullwork of her chastitie. + + _Ant._ Be not too angry, + For by this light, the woman's a rare woman, + A Lady of that catching youth, and beauty, + That unmatch'd sweetness-- + + _Dol._ But why should he be fool'd so? + Let her be what she will, why should his wisdom, + His age, and honour-- + + _Ant._ Say it were your own case, + Or mine, or any mans, that has heat in him: + 'Tis true at this time when he has no promise + Of more security than his sword can cut through, + I do not hold it so discreet: but a good face, Gentlemen, + And eyes that are the winningst Orators: + A youth that opens like perpetual spring, + And to all these, a tongue that can deliver + The Oracles of Love-- + + _Sce._ I would you had her, + With all her Oracles, and Miracles, + She were fitter for your turn. + + _Ant._ Would I had, _Sceva_, + With all her faults too: let me alone to mend 'em, + O'that condition I made thee mine heir. + + _Sce._ I had rather have your black horse, than your harlots. + + _Dol._ _Cæsar_ writes _Sonnetts_ now, the sound of war + Is grown too boystrous for his mouth: he sighs too. + + _Sce._ And learns to fiddle most melodiously, + And sings, 'twould make your ears prick up, to hear him Gent. + Shortly she'l make him spin: and 'tis thought + He will prove an admirable maker of Bonelace, + And what a rare gift will that be in a General! + + _Ant._ I would he could abstain. + + _Sce._ She is a witch sure, + And works upon him with some damn'd inchantment. + + _Dol._ How cunning she will carry her behaviours, + And set her countenance in a thousand postures, + To catch her ends! + + _Sce._ She will be sick, well, sullen, + Merry, coy, over-joy'd, and seem to dye + All in one half hour, to make an asse of him: + I make no doubt she will be drunk too damnably, + And in her drink will fight, then she fits him. + + _Ant._ That thou shouldst bring her in! + + _Sce._ 'Twas my blind fortune, + My Souldiers told me, by the weight 'twas wicked: + Would I had carried _Milo's_ Bull a furlong, + When I brought in this Cow-Calf: he has advanced me + From an old Souldier, to a bawd of memory: + O, that the Sons of _Pompey_ were behind him, + The honour'd _Cato_, and fierce _Juba_ with 'em, + That they might whip him from his whore, and rowze him: + That their fierce Trumpets, from his wanton trances, + Might shake him like an Earth-quake. + + _Enter_ Septimius. + + _Ant._ What's this fellow? + + _Dol._ Why, a brave fellow, if we judge men by their clothes. + + _Ant._ By my faith he is brave indeed: he's no commander? + + _Sce._ Yes, he has a _Roman_ face, he has been at fair wars + And plenteous too, and rich, his Trappings shew it. + + _Sep._ And they will not know me now, they'l never know me. + Who dare blush now at my acquaintance? ha? + Am I not totally a span-new Gallant, + Fit for the choycest eyes? have I not gold? + The friendship of the world? if they shun me now + (Though I were the arrantest rogue, as I am well forward) + Mine own curse, and the Devils too light on me. + + _Ant._ Is't not _Septimius_? + + _Sce._ Yes. + + _Dol._ He that kill'd _Pompey_? + + _Sce._ The same Dog, Scab; that guilded botch, that rascal. + + _Dol._ How glorious villany appears in _Egypt_! + + _Sep._ Gallants, and Souldiers, sure they do admire me. + + _Sce._ Stand further off, thou stinkest. + + _Sep._ A likely matter: + These Cloaths smell mustily, do they not, Gallants? + They stink, they stink, alas poor things, contemptible. + By all the Gods in _Egypt_, the perfumes + That went to trimming these cloathes, cost me-- + + _Sce._ Thou stinkest still. + + _Sep._ The powdering of this head too-- + + _Sce._ If thou hast it, + I'le tell thee all the Gumms in sweet _Arabia_ + Are not sufficient, were they burnt about thee, + To purge the scent of a rank Rascal from thee. + + _Ant._ I smell him now: fie, how the Knave perfumes him, + How strong he scents of Traitor! + + _Dol._ You had an ill Millener, + He laid too much of the Gum of Ingratitude + Upon your Coat, you should have washt off that Sir, + Fie, how it choaks! too little of your loyaltie, + Your honesty, your faith, that are pure Ambers; + I smell the rotten smell of a hired Coward, + A dead Dog is sweeter. + + _Sep._ Ye are merry Gentlemen, + And by my troth, such harmless mirth takes me too, + You speak like good blunt Souldiers; and 'tis well enough: + But did you live at Court, as I do, Gallants, + You would refine, and learn an apter language; + I have done ye simple service on your _Pompey_, + You might have lookt him yet this brace of twelve months + And hunted after him, like foundred Beagles, + Had not this fortunate hand-- + + _Ant._ He brags on't too: + By the good Gods, rejoyces in't; thou wretch + Thou most contemptible Slave. + + _Sce._ Dog, mangy Mongrel, + Thou murdring mischief, in the shape of Souldier + To make all Souldiers hatefull; thou disease + That nothing but the Gallows can give ease to.-- + + _Dol._ Thou art so impudent, that I admire thee, + And know not what to say. + + _Sep._ I know your anger + And why you prate thus: I have found your melancholy: + Ye all want mony, and you are liberal Captains, + And in this want will talk a little desperately: + Here's gold, come share; I love a brave Commander: + And be not peevish, do as _Cæsar_ does: + He's merry with his wench now, be you jovial, + And let's all laugh and drink: would he have partners? + I do consider all your wants, and weigh 'em, + He has the Mistris, you shall have the maids, + I'le bring 'em to ye, to your arms. + + _Ant._ I blush, + All over me, I blush, and sweat to hear him: + Upon my conscience, if my arms were on now + Through them I should blush too: pray ye let's be walking. + + _Sce._ Yes, yes: but e're we goe, I'le leave this lesson, + And let him study it: first Rogue, then Pander, + Next Devil that will be; get thee from mens presence, + And where the name of Souldier has been heard of + Be sure thou live not: to some hungry desert + Where thou canst meet with nothing but thy conscience, + And that in all the shapes of all thy vill[anie]s + Attend thee still, where bruit Beasts will abhor thee, + And even the Sun will shame to give thee light, + Goe hide thy head: or if thou think'st it fitter + Goe hang thy self. + + _Dol._ Hark to that clause. + + _Sce._ And that speedily, + That nature may be eas'd of such a Monster. [_Exit._ + + _Sep._ Yet all this moves not me: nor reflects on me: + I keep my gold still, and my confidence, + Their want of breeding makes these fellows murmur, + Rude valors, so I let 'em pass; rude honours: + There is a wench yet, that I know, affects me + And company for a King: a young plump villain, + That when she sees this gold, she'l leap upon me. + + _Enter_ Eros. + + And here she comes: I am sure of her at midnight, + My pretty _Eros_ welcom. + + _Eros_. I have business. + + _Sep._ Above my love, thou canst not. + + _Eros_. Yes indeed Sir, + Far, far above. + + _Sep._ Why, why so coy? 'pray ye tell me + We are alone. + + _Eros_. I am much asham'd we are so. + + _Sep._ You want a new Gown now, & a handsom Petticoat, + A Skarf, and some odd toyes: I have gold here ready, + Thou shal[t] have any thing. + + _Eros_. I want your absence: + Keep on your way, I care not for your company. + + _Sep._ How? how? you are very short: do you know me _Eros_? + And what I have been to ye? + + _Eros_. Yes I know ye: + And I hope I shall forget ye: Whilst you were honest + I lov'd ye too. + + _Sep._ Honest? come prethee kiss me. + + _Eros_. I kiss no knaves, no Murderers, no Beasts, + No base betrayers of those men that fed 'em, + I hate their looks; and though I may be wanton, + I scorn to nourish it with bloody purchase, + Purchase so foully got; I pray ye unhand me + I had rather touch the plague, than one unworthy: + Goe seek some Mistris that a horse may marry, + And keep her company, she is too good for ye. [_Exit._ + + _Sep._ Marry this goes near; now I perceive I am hatefull, + When this light stuff can distinguish, it grows dangerous, + For mony, seldom they refuse a Leper: + But sure I am more odious, more diseas'd too: + + _Enter three lame_ Souldiers. + + It sits cold here; what are these? three poor Souldiers? + Both poor and lame: their misery may make 'em + A little look upon me, and adore me, + If these will keep me company, I am made yet. + + _1 Sol._ The pleasure _Cæsar_ sleeps in, makes us miserable, + We are forgot, our maims and dangers laugh'd at; + He Banquets, and we beg. + + _2 Sol._ He was not wont + To let poor Souldiers that have spent their Fortunes, + Their Bloods, and limbs, walk up and down like vagabonds. + + _Sep._ Save ye good Souldiers: good poor men, heaven help ye: + You have born the brunt of war, and shew the story, + + _1 Sol._ Some new commander sure. + + _Sep._ You look (my good friends) + By your thin faces, as you would be Suitors. + + _2 Sol._ To _Cæsar_, for our means, Sir. + + _Sep._ And 'tis fit Sir. + + _3 Sol._ We are poor men, and long forgot. + + _Sep._ I grieve for it: + Good Souldiers should have good rewards, and favours, + I'le give up your petitions, for I pity ye, + And freely speak to _Cæsar_. + + _All_. O we honour ye. + + _1 Sol._ A good man sure ye are: the Gods preserve ye. + + _Sep._ And to relieve your wants the while, hold Soldiers, + Nay 'tis no dream: 'tis good gold: take it freely, + 'Twill keep ye in good heart. + + _2 Sol._ Now goodness quit ye. + + _Sep._ I'le be a friend to your afflictions, + And eat, and drink with ye too, and we'l be merry: + And every day I'le see ye. + + _1 Sol._ You are a Souldier, + And one sent from the Gods, I think. + + _Sep._ I'le cloth ye, + Ye are lame, and then provide good lodging for ye: + And at my Table, where no want shall meet ye. + + _Enter_ Sceva. + + _All_. Was never such a man. + + _1 Sold._ Dear honour'd Sir, + Let us but know your name, that we may worship ye. + + _2 Sold._ That we may ever thank. + + _Sep._ Why, call me any thing, + No matter for my name, that may betray me. + + _Sce._ A cunning thief, call him _Septimius_, Souldiers, + The villain that kill'd _Pompey_. + + _All_. How? + + _Sce._ Call him the shame of men. [_Exit._ + + _1 Sold._ O that this mony + Were weight enough to break thy brains out: fling all: + And fling our curses next: let them be mortal, + Out bloody wolf, dost thou come guilded over, + And painted with thy charitie, to poyson us? + + _2 Sold._ I know him now: may never Father own thee, + But as a monstrous birth shun thy base memory: + And if thou hadst a Mother (as I cannot + Believe thou wert a natural Burden) let her womb + Be curs'd of women for a bed of vipers. + + _3 Sol._ Me thinks the ground shakes to devour this rascal, + And the kind air turns into foggs and vapours, + Infectious mists, to crown his villanies. + Thou maist go wander, like a thing heaven hated. + + _1 Sold._ And valiant minds hold poysonous to remember. + The Hangman will not keep thee company, + He has an honourable house to thine, + No, not a thief though thou couldst save his life for't + Will eat thy bread, nor one, for thirst starv'd, drink with thee. + + _2 Sol._ Thou art no company for an honest dog, + And so we'l leave thee to a ditch (thy destiny.) [_Exeunt._ + + _Sep._ Contemn'd of all? and kickt too? now I find it; + My valour's fled too, with mine honesty, + For since I would be knave I must be Coward: + This 'tis to be a Traitor, and betrayer. + What a deformity dwells round about me! + How monstrous shews that man, that is ungratefull! + I am afraid the very beasts will tear me, + Inspir'd with what I have done: the winds will blast me: + Now I am paid, and my reward dwells in me, + The wages of my fact, my soul's opprest; + Honest and noble minds, you find most rest. [_Exit._ + + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus, Achillas. + + _Ptol._ I have commanded, and it shall be so, + A preparation I have set o' foot, + Worthy the friendship and the fame of _Cæsar_, + My Sisters favours shall seem poor and wither'd: + Nay she her self, (trim'd up in all her beautys) + Compar'd to what I'le take his eyes withall, + Shall be a dream. + + _Pho._ Do you mean to shew the glory, + And wealth of _Egypt_? + + _Ptol._ Yes: and in that lustre, + _Rome_ shall appear in all her famous Conquests, + And all her riches of no note unto it. + + _Ach._ Now you are reconcil'd to your fair Sister, + Take heed Sir, how you step into a danger: + A danger of this precipice: but note Sir, + For what _Rome_ ever rais'd her mighty armies; + First for ambition, then for wealth: 'tis madness, + Nay more, a secure impotence, to tempt + An armed Guest: feed not an eye, that conquers, + Nor teach a fortunate sword the way to be covetous. + + _Ptol._ Ye judge amiss, and far too wide to alter me, + Yet all be ready, as I gave direction: + The secret way of all our wealth appearing + Newly, and handsomely: and all about it: + No more disswading: 'tis my will. + + _Ach._ I grieve for't. + + _Ptol._ I will dazel _Cæsar_, with excess of glory. + + _Pho._ I fear you'l curse your will, we must obey ye. [_Exit._ + + + +SCENA IV. + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva, _above._ + + _Cæsar_. I wonder at the glory of this Kingdom, + And the most bounteous preparation, + Still as I pass, they court me with. + + _Sceva_. I'le tell ye: + In _Gaul_, and _Germany_, we saw such visions, + And stood not to admire 'em, but possess 'em: + When they are ours, they are worth our admiration. + + _Enter_ Cleopatra. + + _Ant._ The young Queen comes: give room. + + _Cæsar_. Welcom (my dearest) + Come bless my side. + + _Sceva_. I marry: here's a wonder, + As she appears now, I am no true Souldier, + If I be not readie to recant. + + _Cleo._ Be merry Sir, + My Brother will be proud to do you honour + That now appears himself. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Achillas, Photinus, Apollodorus. + + _Pto._ Haile to great _Cæsar_ + My Royal Guest, first I will feast thine eyes + With wealthy _Ægypts_ store, and then thy palate, + And wait my self upon thee. [_Treasure brought in._ + + _Cæsar_. What rich Service! + What mines of treasure! + + _Cleo._ My _Cæsar_, + What do you admire? pray ye turn, and let me talk to ye. + Have ye forgot me Sir? how, a new object? + Am I grown old o'th' sudden, _Cæsar_? + + _Cæsar_. Tell me + From whence comes all this wealth? + + _Cleo._ Is your eye that way? + And all my Beauties banisht? + + _Ptol._ I'le tell thee _Cæsar_, + We owe for all this wealth to the old _Nilus_: + We need no dropping rain to cheer the husband-man, + Nor Merchant that ploughs up the Sea, to seek us; + Within the wealthy womb of reverent _Nilus_, + All this is nourish'd: who to do thee honour, + Comes to discover his seven Deities, + (His conceal'd heads) unto thee: see with pleasure. + + _Cæsar_. The matchless wealth of this Land! + + _Cleo._ Come, ye shall hear me. + + _Cæsar_. Away: let me imagine. + + _Cleo._ How? frown on me? + The eyes of _Cæsar_ wrapt in storms? + + _Cæsar_. I am sorry: + But let me think-- + +_MUSTEK, SONG._ + + _Enter_ Isis, _and three Labourers._ + + _Isis, the Goddess of this Land,_ + _Bids thee (great Cæsar) understand_ + _And mark our Customes, and first know,_ + _With greedy eyes these watch the flow_ + _Of plenteous Nilus: when he comes,_ + _With Songs, with Daunces, Timbrels, Drums_ + _They entertain him, cut his way,_ + _And give his proud Heads leave to play:_ + _Nilus himself shall rise, and show_ + _His matchless wealth in Over-flow._ + +_LABOURERS SONG._ + + _Come let us help the reverend Nile,_ + _He's very old (alas the while)_ + _Let us dig him easie wayes,_ + _And prepare a thousand Playes:_ + _To delight his streams let's sing_ + _A loud welcom to our Spring._ + _This way let his curling Heads_ + _Fall into our new made Beds._ + _This way let his wanton spawns,_ + _Frisky and glide it o're the Lawns._ + _This way profit comes, and gain:_ + _How he tumbles here amain!_ + _How his waters haste to fall_ + _Into our Channels! Labour all_ + _And let him in: Let Nilus flow,_ + _And perpetuall plenty show._ + _With Incense let us bless the brim,_ + _And as the wanton fishes swim,_ + _Let us Gums, and Garlands fling,_ + _And loud our Timbrels ring._ + _Come (old Father) come away,_ + _Our labour is our holy day._ + + Isis. _Here comes the aged River now_ + _With Garlands of great Pearl, his Brow_ + _Begirt and rounded: In his Flow_ + _All things take life; and all things grow._ + _A thousand wealthy Treasures still,_ + _To do him service at his will_ + _Follow his rising Flood, and pour_ + _Perpetuall blessings in our store._ + _Hear him: and next there will advance,_ + _His sacred Heads to tread a Dance,_ + _In honour of my Royal Guest,_ + _Mark them too: and you have a Feast._ + + _Cleo._ A little dross betray me? + + _Cæsar_. I am asham'd I warr'd at home, (my friends) + When such wealth may be got abroad: what honour? + Nay everlasting glory had _Rome_ purchas'd, + Had she a just cause but to visit _Ægypt_? + +_NILUS_ SONG, _AND DANCE._ + + _Make room for my rich waters fall, and bless my Flood,_ + _Nilus comes flowing, to you all encrease and good._ + _Now the Plants and Flowers shall spring,_ + _And the merry Plough-man sing_ + _In my bidden waves I bring_ + _Bread, and wine, and every thing._ + _Let the Damsells sing me in:_ + _Sing aloud that I may rise:_ + _Your holy Feasts and hours begin,_ + _And each hand bring a Sacrifice._ + _Now my wanton Pearls I show_ + _That to Ladies fair necks grow._ + _Now my gold_ + _And treasures that can ne're be told,_ + _Shall bless this Land, by my rich Flow,_ + _And after this, to crown your Eyes,_ + _My hidden holy head arise._ + + _Cæsar_. The wonder of this wealth so troubles me, + I am not well: good-night. + + _Sce._ I am glad ye have it: + Now we shall stir again. + + _Ptol._ Thou wealth, still haunt him. + + _Sce._ A greedy spirit set thee on: we are happy. + + _Ptol._ Lights: lights for _Cæsar_, and attendance. + + _Cleo._ Well, + I shall yet find a time to tell thee _Cæsar_, + Thou hast wrong'd her Love: the rest here. + + _Ptol._ Lights along still: + Musick, and Sacrifice to sleep for _Cæsar_. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_ACTUS QUARTUS. SCENA PRIMA._ + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Photinus, Achillas, Achoreus. + + _Ach._ I told ye carefully, what this would prove to, + What this inestimable wealth and glory + Would draw upon ye: I advis'd your Majesty + Never to tempt a Conquering Guest: nor add + A bait, to catch a mind, bent by his Trade + To make the whole world his. + + _Pho._ I was not heard Sir: + Or what I said, lost, and contemn'd: I dare say, + (And freshly now) 'twas a poor weakness in ye, + A glorious Childishness: I watch'd his eye, + And saw how Faulcon-like it towr'd, and flew + Upon the wealthy Quarry: how round it mark'd it: + I observ'd his words, and to what it tended; + How greedily he ask'd from whence it came, + And what Commerce we held for such abundance: + The shew of _Nilus_, how he laboured at + To find the secret wayes the Song delivered. + + _Ach._ He never smil'd, I noted, at the pleasures, + But fixt his constant eyes upon the treasure; + I do not think his ears had so much leisure + After the wealth appear'd, to hear the Musique? + Most sure he has not slept since, his mind's troubled + With objects that would make their own still labour. + + _Pho._ Your Sister he ne're gaz'd on: that's a main note, + The prime beauty of the world had no power over him. + + _Ach._ Where was his mind the whilst? + + _Pho._ Where was your carefulness + To shew an armed thief the way to rob ye? + Nay, would you give him this, 'twill excite him + To seek the rest. Ambition feels no gift, + Nor knows no bounds, indeed ye have done most weakly. + + _Ptol._ Can I be too kind to my noble friend? + + _Pho._ To be unkind unto your noble self, but savours + Of indiscretion, and your friend has found it. + Had ye been train'd up in the wants and miseries + A souldier marches through, and known his temperance + In offer'd courtesies, you would have made + A wiser Master of your own, and stronger. + + _Ptol._ Why, should I give him all, he would return it: + 'Tis more to him, to make Kings. + + _Pho._ Pray be wiser, + And trust not with your lost wealth, your lov'd liberty. + To be a King still at your own discretion + Is like a King; to be at his, a vassail. + Now take good counsel, or no more take to ye + The freedom of a Prince. + + _Achil._ 'Twill be too late else: + For, since the Masque, he sent three of his Captains + (Ambitious as himself) to view again + The glory of your wealth. + + _Pho._ The next himself comes, + Not staying for your courtesie, and takes it. + + _Ptol._ What counsel, my _Achoreus_? + + _Ach._ I'le goe pray Sir, + (For that is best counsel now) the gods may help ye. [_Ex._ + + _Pho._ I found ye out a way but 'twas not credited, + A most secure way: whither will ye flye now? + + _Achil._ For when your wealth is gone, your power must follow. + + _Pho._ And that diminisht also, what's your life worth? + Who would regard it? + + _Ptol._ You say true. + + _Achil._ What eye + Will look upon King _Ptolomy_? if they do look, + It must be in scorn: + For a poor King is a monster; + What ear remember ye? 'twill be then a courtesie + (A noble one) to take your life too from ye: + But if reserv'd, you stand to fill a victory, + As who knows Conquerours minds? though outwardly + They bear fair streams. + O Sir, does this not shake ye? + If to be honyed on to these afflictions-- + + _Ptol._ I never will: I was a Fool. + + _Pho._ For then Sir + Your Countreys cause falls with ye too, and fetter'd: + All _Ægypt_ shall be plough'd up with dishonour. + + _Ptol._ No more: I am sensible: and now my spirit + Burns hot within me. + + _Achil._ Keep it warm and fiery. + + _Pho._ And last be counsel'd. + + _Ptol._ I will, though I perish. + + _Pho._ Goe in; we'l tell you all: and then we'l execute. + + [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Cleopatra, Arsino, Eros. + + _Ars._ You are so impatient. + + _Cleo._ Have I not cause? + Women of common Beauties, and low Births, + When they are slighted, are allow'd their angers, + Why should not I (a Princess) make him know + The baseness of his usage? + + _Ars._ Yes: 'tis fit: + But then again you know what man. + + _Cleo._ He is no man: + The shadow of a Greatness hangs upon him, + And not the vertue: he is no Conquerour, + H'as suffer'd under the base dross of Nature: + Poorly delivered up his power to wealth, + (The god of bed-rid men) taught his eyes treason + Against the truth of love: he has rais'd rebellion: + Defi'd his holy flames. + + _Eros._ He will fall back again, + And satisfie your Grace. + + _Cleo._ Had I been old, + Or blasted in my bud, he might have shew'd + Some shadow of dislike: But, to prefer + The lustre of a little art, _Arsino_, + And the poor glow-worm light of some faint Jewels, + Before the life of Love, and soul of Beauty, + Oh how it vexes me! he is no Souldier, + (All honourable Souldiers are Loves servants) + He is a Merchant; a meer wandring Merchant, + Servile to gain: he trades for poor Commodities, + And makes his Conquests, thefts; some fortunate Captains + That quarter with him, and are truly valiant, + Have flung the name of happy _Cæsar_ on him, + Himself ne're won it: he is so base and covetous, + He'l sell his sword for gold. + + _Ars._ This is too bitter. + + _Cleo._ Oh I could curse my self, that was so foolish, + So fondly childish to believe his tongue, + His promising tongue, e're I could catch his temper, + I had trash enough to have cloy'd his eyes withal, + His covetous eyes; such as I scorn to tread on: + Richer than e're he saw yet, and more tempting; + Had I known he had stoop'd at that, I had sav'd mine honour, + I had been happy still: but let him take it, + And let him brag how poorly I am rewarded: + Let him goe conquer still weak wretched Ladies: + Love has his angry Quiver too, his deadly, + And when he finds scorn, armed at the strongest: + I am a fool to fret thus, for a fool: + An old blind fool too: I lose my health? I will not: + I will not cry: I will not honour him + With tears diviner than the gods he worships: + I will not take the pains to curse a poor thing. + + _Eros_. Doe not: you shall not need. + + _Cleo._ Would I were prisoner + To one I hate, that I might anger him, + I will love any man, to break the heart of him: + Any, that has the heart and will to kill him. + + _Ars._ Take some fair truce. + + _Cleo._ I will goe study mischief, + And put a look on, arm'd with all my cunnings, + Shall meet him like a Basilisque, and strike him: + Love, put destroying flames into mine eyes, + Into my smiles, deceits, that I may torture him, + That I may make him love to death, and laugh at him. + + _Enter_ Apollodorus. + + _Ap._ _Cæsar_ commends his Service to your Grace. + + _Cleo._ His service? what's his service? + + _Eros_. Pray ye be patient, + The noble _Cæsar_ loves still. + + _Cleo._ What's his will? + + _Ap._ He craves access unto your Highness. + + _Cleo._ No: + Say no: I will have none to trouble me. + + _Ars._ Good Sister. + + _Cleo._ None I say: I will be private. + Would thou hadst flung me into _Nilus_, keeper, + When first thou gav'st consent, to bring my body + To this unthankfull _Cæsar_. + + _Ap._ 'Twas your will, Madam, + Nay more, your charge upon me, as I honoured ye: + You know what danger I endured. + + _Cleo._ Take this, + And carry it to that Lordly _Cæsar_ sent thee: + There's a new Love, a handsom one, a rich one: + One that will hug his mind: bid him make love to it: + Tell the ambitious Broker, this will suffer-- + + _Enter Cæsar._ + + _Ap._ He enters. + + _Cleo._ How? + + _Cæsar._ I do not use to wait, Lady, + Where I am, all the dores are free, and open. + + _Cleo._ I ghess so, by your rudeness. + + _Cæsar._ Ye are not angry? + Things of your tender mold, should be most gentle; + Why do you frown? good gods, what a set-anger + Have you forc'd into your face! Come, I must temper ye: + What a coy smile was there, and a disdainfull! + How like an ominous flash it broke out from ye! + Defend me, Love, Sweet, who has anger'd ye? + + _Cleo._ Shew him a glass; that false face has betrai'd me: + That base heart wrought me-- + + _Cæsar._ Be more sweetly angry; + I wrong'd ye fair? + + _Cleo._ Away with your foul flatteries: + They are too gross: but that I dare be angry, + And with as great a god as _Cæsar_ is, + To shew how poorly I respect his memory, + I would not speak to ye. + + _Cæsar._ Pray ye undoe this riddle, + And tell me how I have vext ye? + + _Cleo._ Let me think first + Whether I may put on a Patience + That will with honour suffer me: know, I hate ye, + Let that begin the story: Now I'le tell ye. + + _Cæsar._ But do it milder: In a noble Lady, + Softness of spirit, and a sober nature, + That moves like summer winds, cool, and blows sweetness; + Shews blessed like her self. + + _Cleo._ And that great blessedness + You first reap'd of me: till you taught my nature + Like a rude storm to talk aloud, and thunder, + Sleep was not gentler than my soul, and stiller; + You had the Spring of my affections: + And my fair fruits I gave you leave to taste of: + You must expect: the winter of mine anger: + You flung me off, before the Court disgrac'd me, + When in the pride I appear'd of all my beauty, + Appear'd your _Mistress_; took into your eyes + The common-strumpet love of hated lucre, + Courted with covetous heart, the slave of nature, + Gave all your thoughts to gold, that men of glory, + And minds adorn'd with noble love, would kick at: + Souldiers of royal mark, scorn such base purchase: + Beauty and honour are the marks they shoot at; + I spake to ye then; I courted ye, and woo'd ye: + Call'd ye dear _Cæsar_, hung about ye tenderly: + Was proud to appear your friend. + + _Cæsar._ You have mistaken me. + + _Cleo._ But neither Eye, nor Favour, not a Smile + Was I blessed back with; but shook off rudely, + And, as ye had been sold to sordid infamy, + You fell before the Images of treasure, + And in your soul you worship'd: I stood slighted, + Forgotten and contemn'd; my soft embraces, + And those sweet kisses you call'd Elyzium, + As letters writ in sand, no more remembred: + The name and glory of your _Cleopatra_ + Laugh'd at, and made a story to your Captains, + Shall I endure? + + _Cæsar_. You are deceiv'd in all this, + Upon my life you are, 'tis your much tenderness. + + _Cleo._ No, no, I love not that way; you are cozen'd: + I love with as much ambition as a Conquerour, + And where I love, will triumph. + + _Cæsar_. So you shall: + My heart shall be the Chariot that shall bear ye, + All I have won shall wait upon ye: By the gods + The bravery of this womans mind, has fired me: + Dear Mistress shall I but this night?-- + + _Cleo._ How _Cæsar_? + Have I let slip a second vanity + That gives thee hope? + + _Cæsar_. You shall be absolute, + And Reign alone as Queen: you shall be any thing. + + _Cleo._ Make me a maid again, and then I'le hear thee; + Examine all thy art of War, to do that; + And if thou find'st it possible, I'le love thee: + Till when, farewel, unthankfull. + + _Cæsar_. Stay. + + _Cleo._ I will not. + + _Cæsar_. I command. + + _Cleo._ Command, and goe without, Sir. + I do command thee be my slave for ever, + And vex while I laugh at thee. + + _Cæsar_. Thus low, beauty. + + _Cleo._ It is too late; when I have found thee absolute, + The man that Fame reports thee, and to me, + May be I shall think better. Farewel Conquerour. [_Exit._ + + _Cæsar_. She mocks me too: I will enjoy her Beauty: + I will not be deni'd; I'le force my longing. + Love is best pleas'd, when roundly we compel him, + And as he is Imperious, so will I be. + Stay fool, and be advis'd: that dulls the appetite, + Takes off the strength and sweetness of delight. + By Heaven she is a miracle, I must use + A handsom way to win: how now; what fear + Dwells in your faces? you look all distracted. + + _Enter_ Sceva, Anthony, Dolabella. + + _Sceva_. If it be fear, 'tis fear of your undoing, + Not of our selves: fear of your poor declining: + Our lives and deaths are equall benefits, + And we make louder prayers to dye nobly, + Than to live high, and wantonly: whilst you are secure here, + And offer Hecatombs of lazie kisses + To the lewd god of love, and cowardize, + And most lasci[v]iously dye in delights, + You are begirt with the fierce _Alexandrians_. + + _Dol._ The spawn of _Egypt_ flow about your Palace, + Arm'd all: and ready to assault. + + _Ant._ Led on + By the false and base _Photinus_ and his Ministers; + No stirring out; no peeping through a loop-hole, + But straight saluted with an armed Dart. + + _Sce._ No parley: they are deaf to all but danger, + They swear they will fley us, and then dry our Quarters: + A rasher of a salt lover, is such a Shooing-horn: + Can you kiss away this conspiracy, and set us free? + Or will the Giant god of love fight for ye? + Will his fierce war-like bow kill a Cock-sparrow? + Bring out the Lady, she can quel this mutiny: + And with her powerfull looks strike awe into them: + She can destroy, and build again the City, + Your Goddesses have mighty gifts: shew 'em her fair brests, + The impregnable Bulworks of proud Love, and let 'em + Begin their battery there: she will laugh at 'em; + They are not above a hundred thousand, Sir. + A mist, a mist, that when her Eyes break out, + Her powerfull radiant eyes, and shake their flashes, + Will flye before her heats. + + _Cæsar_. Begirt with Villains? + + _S[ce]._ They come to play you, and your Love a Huntsup. + You were told what this same whorson wenching, long agoe would + come to: + You are taken napping now: has not a Souldier, + A time to kiss his friend, and a time to consider, + But he must lye still digging, like a Pioneer, + Making of mines, and burying of his honour there? + 'Twere good you would think-- + + _Dol._ And time too, or you will find else + A harder task, than Courting a coy Beauty. + + _Ant._ Look out and then believe. + + _Sce._ No, no, hang danger: + Take me provoking broth, and then goe to her: + Goe to your Love, and let her feel your valour; + Charge her whole body, when the sword's in your throat (Sir,) + You may cry, _Cæsar_, and see if that will help ye. + + _Cæsar_. I'le be my self again, and meet their furies, + Meet, and consume their mischiefs: make some shift, _Sceva_, + To recover the Fleet, and bring me up two Legions, + And you shall see me, how I'le break like thunder + Amongst these beds of slimy Eeles, and scatter 'em. + + _Sce._ Now ye speak sense I'le put my life to the hazard, + Before I goe No more of this warm Lady, + She will spoil your sword-hand. + + _Cæsar_. Goe: come, let's to Counsel + How to prevent, and then to execute. + + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Souldiers. + + _1 Sold._ Did ye see this Penitence? + + _2 Sold._ Yes: I saw, and heard it. + + _3 Sold._ And I too: look'd upon him, and observ'd it, + He's the strangest _Septimus_ now-- + + _1 Sold._ I heard he was altered, + And had given away his Gold to honest uses: + Cry'd monstrously. + + _2 Sold._ He cryes abundantly: + He is blind almost with weeping. + + _3 Sold._ 'Tis most wonderfull + That a hard hearted man, and an old Souldier + Should have so much kind moisture: when his Mother dy'd + He laugh'd aloud, and made the wickedst Ballads-- + + _1 Sold._ 'Tis like enough: he never lov'd his parents; + Nor can I blame him, for they ne'r lov'd him. + His Mother dream'd before she was deliver'd + That she was brought abed with a Buzzard, and ever after + She whistl'd him up to th' world: his brave clothes too + He has flung away, and goes like one of us now: + Walks with his hands in's pockets, poor and sorrowfull, + And gives the best instructions.-- + + _2 Sold._ And tells stories + Of honest and good people that were honour'd + And how they were remembred: and runs mad + If he but hear of any ungratefull person, + A bloudy, or betraying man-- + + _3 Sold._ If it be possible + That an Arch-Villain may ever be recovered, + This penitent Rascal will put hard: 'twere worth our labour + To see him once again. + + _Enter_ Septimius. + + _1 Sold._ He spares us that labour, + For here he comes. + + _Sep._--Bless ye my honest friends, + Bless ye from base unworthy men; come not near me, + For I am yet too taking for your company. + + _1 Sold._ Did I not tell ye? + + _2 Sold._ What book's that? + + _1 Sold._ No doubt + Some excellent Salve for a sore heart: are you + _Septimius_, that base knave, that betray'd _Pompey_? + + _Sep._ I was, and am; unless your honest thoughts + Will look upon my penitence, and save me, + I must be ever Villain: O good Souldiers + You that have _Roman_ hearts, take heed of falsehood: + Take heed of blood; take heed of foul ingratitude. + The Gods have scarce a mercy for those mischiefs, + Take heed of pride, 'twas that that brought me to it. + + _2 Sol._ This fellow would make a rare speech at the gallows. + + _[3] Sol._ 'Tis very fit he were hang'd to edifie us: + + _Sep._ Let all your thoughts be humble, and obedient, + Love your Commanders, honour them that feed ye: + Pray, that ye may be strong in honesty + As in the use of arms; Labour, and diligently + To keep your hearts from ease, and her base issues, + Pride, and ambitious wantonness, those spoil'd me. + Rather lose all your limbs, than the least honesty, + You are never lame indeed, till loss of credit + Benumb ye through: Scarrs, and those maims of honour + Are memorable crutches, that shall bear + When you are dead, your noble names to Eternity. + + _1 Sol._ I cry. + + _2 Sol._ And so do I. + + _3 Sol._ An excellent villain. + + _1 Sol._ A more sweet pious knave I never heard yet. + + _2 Sol._ He was happie he was Rascal, to come to this. + + _Enter_ Achoreus. + + Who's this? a Priest? + + _Sep._ O stay, most holy Sir! + And by the Gods of _Egypt_, I conjure ye, + (_Isis_, and great _Osiris_) pity me, + Pity a loaden man, and tell me truly + With what most humble Sacrifice I may + Wash off my sin, and appease the powers that hate me? + Take from my heart those thousand thousand furies, + That restless gnaw upon my life, and save me. + _Orestes_ bloody hands fell on his Mother, + Yet, at the holy altar he was pardon'd. + + _Ach._ _Orestes_ out of madness did his murther, + And therefore he found grace: thou (worst of all men) + Out of cold blood, and hope of gain, base lucre, + Slew'st thine own Feeder: come not near the altar, + Nor with thy reeking hands pollute the Sacrifice, + Thou art markt for shame eternal. [_Exit._ + + _Sep._ Look all on me, + And let me be a story left to time + Of blood and Infamy, how base and ugly + Ingratitude appears, with all her profits, + How monstrous my hop'd grace, at Court! good souldiers + Let neither flattery, nor the witching sound + Of high and soft preferment, touch your goodness: + To be valiant, old, and honest, O what blessedness-- + + _1 Sold._ Dost thou want any thing? + + _Sep._ Nothing but your prayers. + + _2 Sol._ Be thus, and let the blind Priest do his worst, + We have gods as well as they, and they will hear us. + + _3 Sol._ Come, cry no more: thou hast wep't out twenty _Pompeys_. + + _Enter_ Photinus, Achillas. + + _Pho._ So penitent? + + _Achil._ It seems so. + + _Pho._ Yet for all this + We must employ him. + + _1 Sol._ These are the arm'd Souldier leaders: + Away: and let's toth' Fort, we shall be snapt else. [_Exeunt._ + + _Pho._ How now? why thus? what cause of this dejection? + + _Achil._ Why dost thou weep? + + _Sep._ Pray leave me, you have ruin'd me, + You have made me a famous Villain. + + _Pho._ Does that touch thee? + + _Achil._ He will be hard to win: he feels his lewdness. + + _Pho._ He must be won, or we shall want our right hand. + This fellow dares, and knows, and must be heartned. + Art thou so poor to blench at what thou hast done? + Is Conscience a comrade for an old Soldier? + + _Achil._ It is not that: it may be some disgrace + That he takes heavily; and would be cherish'd, + _Septimius_ ever scorn'd to shew such weakness. + + _Sep._ Let me alone; I am not for your purpose, + I am now a new man. + + _Pho._ We have new affairs for thee, + Those that would raise thy head. + + _Sep._ I would 'twere off, + And in your bellies for the love you bear me. + I'le be no more Knave: I have stings enough + Already in my breast. + + _Pho._ Thou shalt be noble: + And who dares think then that thou art not honest? + + _Achil._ Thou shalt command in Chief, all our strong Forces + And if thou serv'st an use, must not all justifie it? + + _S[e]p._ I am Rogue enough. + + _Pho._ Thou wilt be more, and baser: + A poor Rogue is all Rogues: open to all shames: + Nothing to shadow him: dost thou think crying + Can keep thee from the censure of the Multitude? + Or to be kneeling at the altar save thee? + 'Tis poor and servile: + Wert thou thine own Sacrifice + 'Twould seem so low, people would spit the fire out. + + _Achil._ Keep thy self glorious still, though ne're so stain'd, + And that will lessen it, if not work it out. + To goe complaining thus, and thus repenting + Like a poor Girl that had betrai'd her maide[n]-head-- + + _Sep._ I'le stop mine ears. + + _Achil._ Will shew so in a Souldier, + So simply, and so ridiculously, so tamely-- + + _Pho._ If people would believe thee, 'twere some honesty, + And for thy penitence would not laugh at thee + (As sure they will) and beat thee for thy poverty: + If they would allow thy foolery, there were some hope. + + _Sep._ My foolery? + + _Pho._ Nay, more than that, thy misery, + Thy monstrous misery. + + _A[c]hil._ He begins to hearken: + Thy misery so great, men will not bury thee. + + _Sep._ That this were true! + + _Pho._ Why does this conquering _Cæsar_ + Labour through the worlds deep Seas of toyls and troubles, + Dangers, and desperate hopes? to repent afterwards? + Why does he slaughter thousands in a Battel, + And whip his Country with the sword? to cry for't? + Thou killd'st great _Pompey_; he'l kill all his kindred, + And justifie it: nay raise up _Trophies_ to it. + When thou hear'st him repent, (he's held most holy too) + And cry for doing daily bloody murthers, + Take thou example, and go ask forgiveness, + Call up the thing thou nam'st thy conscience, + And let it work: then 'twill seem well _Septimius_. + + _Sep._ He does all this. + + _Achil._ Yes: and is honour'd for it; + Nay call'd the honour'd _Cæsar_, so maist thou be: + Thou wert born as near a Crown as he. + + _Sep._ He was poor. + + _Pho._ And desperate bloody tricks got him this credit. + + _Sep._ I am afraid you will once more-- + + _Pho._ Help to raise thee: + Off with thy pining black, it dulls a Souldier, + And put on resolution like a man, + A noble Fate waits on thee. + + _Sep._ I now feel + My self returning Rascal speedily. + O that I had the power-- + + _Achil._ Thou shalt have all: + And do all through thy power, men shall admire thee, + And the vices of _Septimius_ shall turn vertues. + + _Sep._ Off: off: thou must off: off my cowardize, + Puling repentance off. + + _Pho._ Now thou speakst nobly. + + _Sep._ Off my dejected looks: and welcom impudence: + My daring shall be Deity, to save me: + Give me instructions, and put action on me: + A glorious cause upon my swords point, Gentlemen, + And let my wit, and valour work: you will raise me, + And make me out-dare all my miseries? + + _Pho._ All this, and all thy wishes. + + _Sep._ Use me then, + Womanish fear farewell: I'le never melt more, + Lead on, to some great thing, to wake my spirit: + I cut the Cedar _Pompey_, and I'le fell + This huge Oak _Cæsar_ too. + + _Pho._ Now thou singst sweetly: + And _Ptolomy_ shall crown thee for thy service. + + _Achil._ He's well wrought: put him on apace for cooling. + [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_ACTUS QUINTUS. SCENA PRIMA._ + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella. + + _Ant._ The tumult still encreases. + + _Cæsar_. O my fortune! + My lustfull folly rather! but 'tis well, + And worthily I am made a bondsmans prey, + That after all my glorious victories, + In which I pass'd so many Seas of dangers, + When all the Elements conspir'd against me, + Would yield up the dominion of this head + To any mortal power: so blind and stupid, + To trust these base _Egyptians_, that proclaim'd + Their perjuries, in noble _Pompeys_ death, + And yet that could not warn me. + + _Dol._ Be still _Cæsar_, + Who ever lov'd to exercise his fate, + Where danger look't most dreadful. + + _Ant._ If you fall, + Fall not alone: let the King and his Sister + Be buried in your ruines: on my life + They both are guilty: reason may assure you + _Photinus_ nor _Achillas_ durst attempt you, + Or shake one Dart, or sword, aim'd at your safety, + Without their warrant. + + _Cæsar_. For the young King I know not + How he may be misled; but for his Sister + (Unequall'd _Cleopatra_) 'twere a kind + Of blasphemy to doubt her: ugly treason + Durst never dwell in such a glorious building, + Nor can so clear and great a spirit, as hers is, + Admit of falsehood. + + _Ant._ Let us seize on him then: + And leave her to her fortune. + + _Dol._ If he have power + Use it to your security, and let + His honesty acquit him: if he be false + It is too great an honour he should dye + By your victorious hand. + + _Cæsar_. He comes: and I + Shall do as I find cause. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus. + + _Ptol._ Let not great _Cæsar_ + Impute the breach of hospitality, + To you (my guest) to me; I am contemn'd, + And my rebellious subjects lift their hands + Against my head: and would they aim'd no farther, + Provided that I fell a sacrifice + To gain you safety: that this is not feign'd, + The boldness of my innocence may confirm you: + Had I been privy to their bloody plot, + I now had led them on, and given fair gloss + To their bad cause, by being present with them: + But I that yet taste of the punishment, + In being false to _Pompey_, will not make + A second fault to _Cæsar_ uncompel'd + With such as have not yet shook off obedience, + I yield my self to you, and will take part + In all your dangers. + + _Cæsar_. This pleads your excuse, + And I receive it. + + _Ach._ If they have any touch + Of justice, or religion, I will use + The authority of our Gods, to call them back + From their bad purpose. + + _Apo._ This part of the palace + Is yet defensible: we may make it good, + Till your powers rescue us. + + _Cæsar_. _Cæsar_ besieg'd? + O stain to my great actions: 'twas my custom, + An Army routed, as my feet had wings + To be first in the chase: nor walls, nor Bulworks + Could guard those that escap'd the Battels fury + From this strong Arm; and I to be enclos'd? + My heart! my heart! but 'tis necessity, + To which the Gods must yield, and I obey, + 'Till I redeem it by some glorious way. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Photinus, Achillas, Septimius, _Souldiers._ + + _Pho._ There's no retiring now, we are broke in: + The deed past hope of pardon: if we prosper + 'Twill be stil'd lawful!, and we shall give laws + To those that now command us: stop not at + Or loyalty, or duty: bold ambition, + To dare and power to do, gave the first difference + Between the King, and subject, _Cæsars Motto_, + _Aut Cæsar aut Nihil_, each of us must claim, + And use it as our own. + + _Achil._ The deed is bloody + If we conclude in _Ptolomies_ death. + + _Pho._ The better, + The globe of Empire must be so manur'd. + + _Sep._ _Rome_, that from _Romulus_ first took her name, + Had her walls water'd with a Crimson showr + Drain'd from a Brothers heart: nor was she rais'd + To this prodigious height, that overlooks + Three full parts of the Earth, that pay her tribute, + But by enlarging of her [n]arrow bounds + By the Sack of Neighbour Cities, not made hers + Till they were Cemented with the Blood of those + That did possess 'em: _Cæsar, Ptolomy_, + (Now I am steel'd) to me are empty names + Esteem'd as _Pompeys_ was. + + _Pho._ Well said _Septimius_, + Thou now art right again. + + _Achil._ But what course take we + For the Princess _Cleopatra_? + + _Pho._ Let her live + Awhile to make us sport: she shall authorize + Our undertakings to the ignorant people, + As if what we do were by her command: + But our _triumvirat_ Government once confirm'd, + She bears her Brother company, that's my Province: + Leave me to work her. + + _Achil._ I will undertake + For _Ptolomy_. + + _Sep._ _Cæsar_ shall be my task, + And as in _Pompey_ I began a name + I'le perfect it in _Cæsar_. + + _Enter (above)_ Cæsar, Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus, Antony, + Dolabella. + + _Pho._ 'Tis resolv'd then, + We'll force our passage. + + _Achil._ See, they do appear + As they desir'd a Parley. + + _Pho._ I am proud yet + I have brought 'em to capitulate. + + _Ptol._ Now, _Photinus_? + + _Pho._ Now, _Ptolomy_? + + _Ptol._ No addition? + + _Pho._ We are equal, + Though _Cæsars_ name were put into the scale, + In which our worth is weigh'd. + + _Cæs._ Presumptuous Villain, + Upon what grounds hast thou presum'd to raise + Thy servile hand against the King, or me, + That have a greater name? + + _Pho._ On those, by which + Thou didst presume to pass the _Rubicon_ + Against the Laws of _Rome_; and at the name + Of Traitor smile; as thou didst when _Marcellus_, + The Consul, with the _Senates_ full consent + Pronounc'd thee for an Enemy to thy Country, + Yet thou wentst on, and thy rebellious Cause + Was crown'd with fair success: Why should we fear then? + Think on that, _Cæsar_. + + _Cæs._ O the gods! be brav'd thus, + And be compell'd to bear this from a Slave + That would not brook Great _Pompey_ his Superiour? + + _Achil._ Thy glories now have toucht the highest point, + And must descend. + + _Pho._ Despair, and think we stand + The Champions of _Rome_, to wreak her wrongs, + Upon whose liberty thou hast set thy foot. + + _Sept._ And that the Ghosts of all those noble _Romans_ + That by thy Sword fell in this Civil War + Expect revenge. + + _Ant._ Dar'st thou speak, and remember + There was a _Pompey_? + + _Pho._ There is no hope to 'scape us: + If that against the odds we have upon you + You dare come forth, and fight, receive the honour + To dye like _Romans_, if ye faint, resolve + To starve like Wretches; I disdain to change + Another syllable with you. [_Exeunt._ + + _Ant._ Let us dye nobly; + And rather fall upon each others Sword + Than come into these Villains hands. + + _Cæs._ That Fortune, + Which to this hour hath been a Friend to _Cæsar_, + Though for a while she cloath her Brow with frowns, + Will smile again upon me: who will pay her, + Or sacrifice, or Vows, if she forsake + Her best of works in me? or suffer him, + Whom with a strong hand she hath led triumphant + Through the whole western world, and _Rome_ acknowledg'd + Her Soveraign Lord, to end in-gloriously + A life admir'd by all? The threatned danger + Must by a way more horrid be avoided, + And I will run the hazard; Fire the Palace, + And the rich Magazines that neighbour it, + In which the Wealth of _Egypt_ is contain'd: + Start not, it shall be so; that while the people + Labour in quenching the ensuing flames, + Like Cæsar, with this handful of my friends + Through Fire, and Swords I force a passage to + My conquering Legions. King, if thou dar'd follow + Where _Cæsar_ leads, or live or dye a Free-man; + If not, stay here a Bond-man to thy Slave, + And dead, be thought unworthy of a Grave. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENE III. + + _Enter_ Septimius. + + _Sept._ I feel my resolution melts again + And that I am not Knave alone, but fool, + In all my purposes. The Devil, _Photinus_, + Employs me as a Property, and grown useless + Will shake me off again; he told me so + When I kill'd _Pompey_; nor can I hope better, + When _Cæsar_ is dispatch'd; Services done + For such as only study their own ends, + Too great to be rewarded, are return'd + With deadly hate; I learn'd this Principle + In his own School, yet still he fools me, well; + And yet he trusts me: Since I in my nature + Was fashion'd to be false, wherefore should I + That kill'd my General, and a _Roman_, one + To whom I ow'd all nourishments of life, + Be true to an _Egyptian_? To save _Cæsar_, + And turn _Photinus's_ plots on his own head, + As it is in my power, redeem my credit, + And live to lye and swear again in fashion, + Oh, 'twere a master-piece! ha!--me _Cæsar_, + How's he got off? + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Ptolomy, Antony, Dolabella, Achoreus, + Apollodorus, _Souldiers._ + + _Cæs._ The fire has took, + And shews the City like a second _Troy_, + The Navy too is scorch'd, the people greedy + To save their Wealth and Houses, whilst their Souldiers + Make spoil of all; only _Achillas's_ Troops + Make good their Guard, break through them, we are safe; + I'll lead you like a Thunder-bolt. + + _Sept._ Stay, _Cæsar_. + + _Cæs._ Who's this? the Dog, _Septimius_? + + _Ant._ Cut his throat. + + _Dol._ You bark'd but now, fawn you so soon? + + _Sept._ O hear me, + What I'll deliver is for _Cæsars_ safety, + For all your good. + + _Ant._ Good from a mouth like thine, + That never belch'd but blasphemy, and treason on Festival days! + + _Sept._ I am an altered man, altered indeed, + And will give you cause to say I am a _Roman_. + + _Dol._ Rogue, I grant thee. + + _Sept._ Trust me, I'll make the passage smooth, and easie + For your escape. + + _Ant._ I'll trust the Devil sooner, + And make a safer Bargain. + + _Sept._ I am trusted + With all _Photinus's_ secrets. + + _Ant._ There's no doubt then + Thou wilt be false. + + _Sept._ Still to be true to you. + + _Dol._ And very likely. + + _Cæs._ Be brief, the means? + + _Sept._ Thus, _Cæsar_, + To me alone, but bound by terrible oaths + Not to discover it, he hath reveal'd + A dismal Vault, whose dreadful mouth does open + A mile beyond the City: in this Cave + Lye but two hours conceal'd. + + _Ant._ If you believe him, + He'll bury us alive. + + _Dol._ I'll flye in the Air first. + + _Sept._ Then in the dead of night I'll bring you back + Into a private room, where you shall find + _Photinus_, and _Achillas_, and the rest + Of their Commanders close at Council. + + _Cæs._ Good, what follows? + + _Sept._ Fall me fairly on their throats, + Their heads cut off and shorn, the multitude + Will easily disperse. + + _Cæs._ O Devil! away with him; + Nor true to Friend nor Enemy? _Cæsar_ scorns + To find his safety, or revenge his wrongs + So base a way; or owe the means of life + To such a leprous Traytor, I have towr'd + For Victory like a Faulcon in the Clouds, + Nor dig'd for't like a Mole; our Swords and Cause + Make way for us, and that it may appear + We took a noble Course, and hate base Treason, + Some Souldiers that would merit _Cæsar's_ favour, + Hang him on yonder Turret, and then follow + The lane this Sword makes for you. [_Exit._ + + _1 Sold._ Here's a Belt, + Though I dye for it I'll use it. + + _2 Sold._ 'Tis too good + To truss a Cur in. + + _Sept._ Save me, here's Gold. + + _1 Sold._ If _Rome_ + Were offered for thy ransom, it could not help thee. + + _2 Sold._ Hang not an arse. + + _1 Sold._ Goad him on with thy Sword; + Thou dost deserve a worser end, and may + All such conclude so, that their friends betray. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENE IV. + + _Enter (severally)_ Arsino, Eros, Cleopatra. + + _Ars._ We are lost. + + _Eros_. Undone. + + _Ars._ Confusion, Fire, and Swords, + And fury in the Souldiers face more horrid + Circle us round. + + _Eros_. The Kings Command they laugh at, + And jeer at _Cæsars_ threats. + + _Ars._ My Brother seiz'd on + By the _Roman_, as thought guilty of the tumult, + And forc'd to bear him company, as mark'd out + For his protection or revenge. + + _Eros_. They have broke + Into my Cabinet; my Trunks are ransack'd. + + _Ars._ I have lost my jewels too: but that's the least: + The barbarous Rascals, against all humanity, + Or sense of pity, have kill'd my little Dog, + And broke my Monkeys Chain. + + _Eros_. They rifled me: + But that I could endure, would they proceed no further. + + _Ars._ O my Sister! + + _Eros_. My Queen, my Mistress! + + _Ars._ Can you stand unmov'd + When the Earth-quake of Rebellion shakes the City, + And the Court trembles? + + _Cleo._ Yes, _Arsino_, + And with a Masculine Constancy deride + Fortunes worst malice, as a Servant to + My Vertues, not a Mistress; then we forsake + The strong Fort of our selves, when we once yield, + Or shrink at her assaults; I am still my self, + And though disrob'd of Soveraignty, and ravish'd + Of ceremonious duty, that attends it, + Nay, grant they had slav'd my Body, my free mind + Like to the Palm-tree walling fruitful _Nile_, + Shall grow up straighter and enlarge it self + 'Spight of the envious weight that loads it with: + Think of thy Birth (_Arsino_) common burdens + Fit common Shoulders; teach the multitude + By suffering nobly what they fear to touch at; + The greatness of thy mind does soar a pitch, + Their dim eyes (darkened by their narrow souls) + Cannot arrive at. + + _Ars._ I am new created, + And owe this second being to you (best Sister) + For now I feel you have infus'd into me + Part of your fortitude. + + _Eros_. I still am fearful; + I dare not tell a lie; you that were born + Daughters and Sisters unto Kings, may nourish + Great thoughts, which I, that am your humble handmaid + Must not presume to rival. + + _Cleo._ Yet (my _Eros_) + Though thou hast profited nothing by observing + The whole course of my life, learn in my death, + Though not to equal, yet to imitate + Thy fearless Mistress. + + _Enter_ Photinus. + + _Eros_. O, a man in Arms! + His Weapon drawn too? + + _Cleo._ Though upon the point + Death sate, I'll meet it, and outdare the danger. + + _Pho._ Keep the Watch strong, and guard the passage sure + That leads unto the Sea. + + _Cleo._ What Sea of rudeness + Breaks in upon us? or what Subjects Breath + Dare raise a storm, when we command a calm? + Are Duty and Obedience fled to Heaven? + And in their room ambition and pride + Sent into _Egypt_? That Face speaks thee, _Photinus_, + A thing thy Mother brought into the World; + My Brother's and my Slave: but thy behaviour, + Oppos'd to that, an insolent intruder + Upon that Soveraignty thou shouldst bow to. + If in the Gulph of base ingratitude, + All loyalty to _Ptolomy_ the King + Be swallowed up, remember who I am, + Whose Daughter and whose Sister; or suppose + That is forgot too; let the name of _Cæsar_ + Which Nations quake at, stop the desperate madness + From running headlong on to thy Confusion. + Throw from thee quickly those rebellious Arms, + And let me read submission in thine Eyes; + Thy wrongs to us we will not only pardon, + But be a ready advocate to plead for thee + To _Cæsar_, and my Brother. + + _Pho._ Plead my Pardon? + To you I bow, but scorn as much to stoop thus + To _Ptolomy_ or _Cæsar_, Nay, the gods, + As to put off the figure of a man, + And change my Essence with a sensual Beast; + All my designs, my counsels, and dark ends + Were aim'd to purchase you. + + _Cleo._ How durst thou, being + The scorn of baseness, nourish such a thought? + + _Pho._ They that have power are royal; and those base + That live at the devotion of another. + What birth gave _Ptolomy_, or fortune _Cæsar_, + By Engines fashion'd in this _Protean_ Anvil + I have made mine; and only stoop at you, + Whom I would still preserve free to command me; + For _Cæsar's_ frowns, they are below my thoughts, + And but in these fair Eyes I still have read + The story of a supream Monarchy, + To which all hearts with mine gladly pay tribute, + _Photinus's_ Name had long since been as great + As _Ptolomies_ e'r was, or _Cæsars_ is, + This made me as a weaker tye to unloose + The knot of Loyalty, that chain'd my freedom, + And slight the fear that _Cæsars_ threats might cause, + That I and they might see no Sun appear + But _Cleopatra_ in the _Egyptian_ Sphear. + + _Cleo._ O Giant-like Ambition! marryed to + _Cymmerian_ darkness! inconsiderate Fool, + (Though flatter'd with self-love) could'st thou believe, + Were all Crowns on the Earth made into one, + And that (by Kings) set on thy head; all Scepters, + Within thy grasp, and laid down at my feet, + I would vouchsafe a kiss to a no-man? + A guelded Eunuch? + + _Pho._ Fairest, that makes for me, + And shews it is no sensual appetite, + But true love to the greatness of thy Spirit, + That when that you are mine shall yield me pleasures, + _Hymen_, though blessing a new married Pair + Shall blush to think on, and our certain issue, + The glorious splendor of dread Majesty, + Whose beams shall dazel _Rome_, and aw the world, + My wants in that kind others shall supply, + And I give way to it. + + _Cleo._ Baser than thy Birth; + Can there be gods, and hear this, and no thunder + Ram thee into the Earth? + + _Pho._ They are asleep, + And cannot hear thee; + Or with open Eyes, + Did _Jove_ look on us, I would laugh and swear + That his artillery is cloy'd by me: + Or if that they have power to hurt, his Bolts + Are in my hand. + + _Cleo._ Most impious! + + _Pho._ They are dreams, + Religious Fools shake at: yet to assure thee, + If _Nemesis_, that scourges pride and scorn, + Be any thing but a name, she lives in me; + For by my self (an oath to me more dreadful + Than _Stix_ is to your gods) weak _Ptolomy_ dead, + And _Cæsar_ (both being in my toil) remov'd, + The poorest Rascals that are in my Camp + Shall in my presence quench their lustful heat + In thee, and young _Arsino_, while I laugh + To hear you howl in vain: + I deride those gods, + That you think can protect you. + + _Cleo._ To prevent thee, + In that I am the Mistress of my Fate; + So hope I of my sister to confirm it. + I spit at thee, and scorn thee. + + _Pho._ I will tame + That haughty courage, and make thee stoop too. + + _Cleo._ Never, + I was born to command, and will dye so. + + _Enter_ Achillas, _and Souldiers, with the Body of_ Ptolomy. + + _Pho._ The King dead? this is a fair entrance to + Our future happiness. + + _Ars._ Oh my dear Brother! + + _Cleo._ Weep not, _Arsino_, common women do so, + Nor lose a tear for him, it cannot help him; + But study to dye nobly. + + _Pho._ _Cæsar_ fled! + 'Tis deadly aconite to my cold heart, + It choaks my vital Spirits: where was your care? + Did the Guards sleep? + + _Achil._ He rowz'd them with his Sword; + We talk of _Mars_, but I am sure his Courage + Admits of no comparison but it self, + And (as inspir'd by him) his following friends + With such a confidence as young Eagles prey + Under the large wing of their fiercer Dam, + Brake through our Troops and scatter'd them, he went on + But still pursu'd by us, when on the sudden, + He turn'd his head, and from his Eyes flew terrour; + Which strook in us no less fear and amazement, + Than if we had encounter'd with the lightning + Hurl'd from _Jove's_ cloudy Brow. + + _Cleo._ 'Twas like my _Cæsar_. + + _Achil._ We faln back, he made on, and as our fear + Had parted from us with his dreadful looks, + Again we follow'd; but got near the Sea; + On which his Navy anchor'd; in one hand + Holding a Scroll he had above the waves, + And in the other grasping fast his Sword, + As it had been a Trident forg'd by _Vulcan_ + To calm the raging Ocean, he made away + As if he had been _Neptune_, his friends like + So many _Tritons_ follow'd, their bold shouts + Yielding a chearful musick; we showr'd darts + Upon them, but in vain, they reach'd their ships + And in their safety we are sunk; for _Cæsar_ + Prepares for War. + + _Pho._ How fell the King? + + _Achil._ Unable + To follow _Cæsar_, he was trod to death + By the Pursuers, and with him the Priest + Of _Isis_, good _Achoreus_. + + _Ars._ May the Earth + Lye gently on their ashes. + + _Pho._ I feel now, + That there are powers above us; and that 'tis not + Within the searching policies of man + To alter their decrees. + + _Cleo._ I laugh at thee; + Where are thy threats now, Fool, thy scoffs and scorns + Against the gods? I see calamity + Is the best Mistress of Religion, + And can convert an Atheist. [_Shout within._ + + _Pho._ O they come, + Mountains fall on me! O for him to dye + That plac'd his Heaven on Earth, is an assurance + Of his descent to Hell; where shall I hide me? + The greatest daring to a man dishonest, + Is but a Bastard Courage, ever fainting. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Sceva, Antony, Dolabella. + + _Cæs._ Look on your _Cæsar_; banish fear, my fairest, + You now are safe. + + _Sce._ By _Venus_, not a kiss + Till our work be done; the Traitors once dispatch'd + To it, and we'll cry aim. + + _Cæs._ I will be speedy. [_Exeunt._ + + _Cleo._ Farewel again, _Arsino_; how now, _Eros_? + Ever faint-hearted? + + _Eros_. But that I am assur'd, + Your Excellency can command the General, + I fear the Souldiers, for they look as if + They would be nibling too. + + _Cleo._ He is all honour, + Nor do I now repent me of my favours, + Nor can I think that Nature e'r made a Woman + That in her prime deserv'd him. + + _Enter_ Cæsar, Sceva, Antonie, Dolabella, _Souldiers, with the + Heads._ + + _Ars._ He's come back, + Pursue no further; curb the Souldiers fury. + + _Cæs._ See (beauteous Mistris) their accursed heads + That did conspire against us. + + _Sce._ Furies plague 'em, + They had too fair an end to dye like Souldiers, + _Pompey_ fell by the Sword, the Cross or Halter + Should have dispatch'd them. + + _Cæs._ All is but death, good _Sceva_, + Be therefore satisfied: and now my dearest, + Look upon _Cæsar_, as he still appear'd + A Conquerour, and this unfortunate King + Entomb'd with honour, we'll to _Rome_, where _Cæsar_ + Will shew he can give Kingdoms; for the Senate, + (Thy Brother dead) shall willingly decree + The Crown of _Egypt_ (that was his) to thee. [_Exeunt omnes._ + + + + +PROLOGUE. + + _New Titles warrant not a Play for new,_ + _The Subject being old; and 'tis as true,_ + _Fresh and neat matter may with ease be fram'd_ + _Out of their Stories, that have oft been nam'd_ + _With glory on the Stage; what borrows he_ + _From him that wrote old_ Priam's _Tragedy,_ + _That writes his love to_ Hecuba? _Sure to tell_ + _Of_ Cæsars _amorous heats, and how he fell_ + _In the Capitol, can never be the same_ + _To the Judicious; Nor will such blame_ + _Those who pen'd this, for Barrenness when they find_ + _Young_ Cleopatra _here, and her great Mind_ + _Expressed to the height, with us a Maid, and free,_ + _And how he rated her Virginitie._ + _We treat not of what boldness she did dye,_ + _Nor of her fatal Love to_ Antony. + _What we present and offer to your view,_ + _Upon their faiths the Stage yet never knew._ + _Let Reason then first to your Wills give laws,_ + _And after judge of them and of their cause._ + + + +EPILOGUE. + + _I Now should wish another had my place,_ + _But that I hope to come off, and with Grace;_ + _And but express some sign that you are pleas'd,_ + _We of our doubts, they of their fears are eas'd._ + _I would beg further (Gentlemen) and much say_ + _In favour of our selves, them, and the Play;_ + _Did I not rest assured, the most I see_ + _Hate Impudence, and cherish Modestie._ + + + * * * * * + + + +APPENDIX. + +p. 300, ll. 5-39. Not in 1st folio. + +p. 301, l. 3. 2nd folio] Achil. Love the K. l. 30. frequent in this. +l. 31. to safe. + +p. 302, l. 13. and give. + +p. 303, l. 10. 2nd folio _here and frequently prints_] Septinius. + +p. 304, ll. 3 and 4. o' these ... foole us; l. 7. 2nd folio +_misprints_] Aeh. + +p. 305. l. 7. Till they. l. 24. 2nd folio _misprints_] and. + +p. 309, l. 30. _A missing bracket has been added before_ Photinus. + +p. 310, l. 4. Prerogatives. l. 31. 2nd folio _misprints_] Potolmy. l. +40. hand of. + +p. 313, l. 29. a Prisoner. + +p. 316, l. 2. of thy. l. 11. _Omits_ in. l. 14. sought him. + +p. 318, l. 16. _A comma has been added at the end of the line._ + +p. 320, l. 20. tell you. l. 24. _Adds the following line_] I gave you +no comission to performe it: l. 31. with ye. l. 32. Hangers. + +p. 321, l. 23. told ye. l. 30. ye are. + +p. 322, l. 33. my anger. + +p. 323, l. 2. 2nd folio] Lordships. + +p. 324, l. 32. _Adds the following line_] The rule of ill, I'le trust +before the dore. + +p. 325, l. 1. I sat. l. 17. Affrinius. l. 23. past now. l. 29. comes +still. + +p. 326, l. 9. _Omits_ rich. l. 32. _Omits_ that. + +p. 327, l. 3. Pray. + +p. 328, l. 1. I know. l. 6. on a. + +p. 329, l. 14. first would. + +p. 330, l. 34. 2nd folio _misprints_] Apollodrous. + +p. 331, l. 28. loades us. + +p. 332, l. 11. this rare. l. 20. cradled. + +p. 333, l. 27. halfe an houre. + +p. 334, l. 13. Devills are light. + +p. 336, l. 1. 2nd folio] villaines. l. 10. my God. l. 12. Rude +valorus. l. 28. 2nd folio] shall. + +p. 337, l. 1. blood. l. 7. stuffes. l. 8. Leaper. l. 26. _Omits_ To. + +p. 338, l. 18. 2nd folio _misprints_] Sep. l. 23. the charities. l. +31. The infectious. + +p. 340, l. 20. readiest. l. 30. _Adds after_ treasure?] richer still? + +p. 341, l. 11. _Omits_ me. + +p. 343, l. 1. hidden. + +p. 344, l. 13. they would. l. 31. Pray thee be. + +p. 346, l. 23. Lovers. + +p. 347, l. 9. Dye not. + +p. 348, l. 39. to my. + +p. 349, l. 18. backe; but. + +p. 350, l. 34. 2nd folio _misprints_] lasciciously. + +p. 351, l. 20. 2nd folio _misprints_] Sec. + +p. 353, l. 20. 2nd folio] 2 Sol. l. 27. loose all. + +p. 355, l. 23. 2nd folio _misprints_] Sep. l. 35. 2nd folio +_misprints_] maidend-head. + +p. 356, l. 6. 2nd folio _misprints_] Achil. l. 16. hearest. + +p. 357, l. 10. to weale my. l. 22. bondmans. + +p. 359, l. 21. A will. l. 31. manur. l. 37. 2nd folio] marrow. l. 38. +Cities, were made. + +p. 360, l. 14. 2nd folio] Brother, company that's. l. 28. them. + +p. 362, l. 9. darst. l. 17. This Devill. l. 23. rewarded, or return'd. +l. 29. I owe. + +p. 363, l. 6. while. l. 7. Achillas troops. l. 17. a moneth. l. 27. +Photinus secrets. + +p. 365, ll. 15 and 16. + + They rufled me: + But that I could endure, and tire 'em too, + Would they proceed no further. + +l. 20. When an. + +p. 367, l. 6. To Ptolomy, to Cæsar. l. 23. Photinus name. l. 29. th' +Egyptian. + +p. 368, l. 37. make it. l. 39. and I will. + +p. 369, l. 6. Nor loose. l. 16. you Eagletss. l. 18. 'em. + +p. 370, l. 37. _Omits_ that. + +p. 371, l. 5. _Omits_ Cæs. l. 15. for Rome. l. 20. The Prologue. +l. 32. Those that penn'd. + +p. 372, l. 7. The Epilogue. l. 13. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The False One</p> +<p>Author: Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher</p> +<p>Release Date: January 23, 2005 [eBook #14771]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE ONE***</p> +<p> </p> +<h4>E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, William Flis,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h4> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + <h3>THE</h3> + + <h1>FALSE ONE.</h1> + + <h4>A</h4> + + <h2>TRAGEDY.</h2> +<p> </p> +<h4>by</h4> +<h2>Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher</h2> +<h3>Edited by Arnold Glover</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page300" + id="page300"></a>[pg 300]</span> + + <h3>Persons Represented in the Play.</h3> + + <table summary="dramatis personae" width="100%"> + <tr> + <td colspan="3">Julius Cæsar, <i>Emperour of</i> Rome.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Ptolomy, <i>King of</i> Ægypt.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Achoreus, <i>an honest Counsellor, Priest of</i> + Isis.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Photinus, <i>a Politician, minion to</i> + Ptolomy.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Achillas, <i>Captain of the Guard to</i> + Ptolomy.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Septimius, <i>a revolted Roman Villain.</i></td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Labienus, <i>a Roman Souldier, and</i> Nuncio.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Apollodorus, <i>Guardian to</i> Cleopatra.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td>Antonie,<br />Dolabella,</td> + <td><font size="+3">}</font></td><td>Cæsars <i>Captains.</i></td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3">Sceva, <i>a free Speaker, also Captain to</i> + Cæsar.</td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3"><i>Guard.</i></td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3"><i>Three lame Souldiers.</i></td> + </tr><tr> + <td colspan="3"><i>Servants.</i></td> + </tr> + </table> + + <h4><i>WOMEN.</i></h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Cleopatra, <i>Queen of</i> Ægypt. Cæsar's + <i>Mistris.</i></p> + + <p>Arsino, Cleopatra's <i>Sister.</i></p> + + <p>Eros, Cleopatra's <i>waiting Woman.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + <p> </p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p> </p> + + <p><i>The Scene</i> Ægypt.</p> + <p> </p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p> </p> + + <p>The principal Actors were,</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>John Lowin.</i></p> + + <p><i>John Underwood.</i></p> + + <p><i>Robert Benfield.</i></p> + + <p><i>Richard Sharpe.</i></p> + + <p><i>Joseph Taylor.</i></p> + + <p><i>Nicholas Toolie.</i></p> + + <p><i>John Rice.</i></p> + + <p><i>George Birch.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h4>CONTENTS.</h4> + + <p><i>Actus Primus. Scena Prima.</i> + <a href="#page301">301</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA II. <a href="#page311">311</a></p> + + <p><i>Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.</i> + <a href="#page315">315</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENE II. <a href="#page322">322</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENE III. <a href="#page324">324</a></p> + + <p><i>Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.</i> <a href="#page330">330</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA II. <a href="#page332">332</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA III. <a href="#page339">339</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA IV. <a href="#page340">340</a></p> + + <p><i>Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.</i> + <a href="#page343">343</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA II. <a href="#page345">345</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA III. <a href="#page352">352</a></p> + + <p><i>Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.</i> + <a href="#page357">357</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENA II. <a href="#page359">359</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENE III. <a href="#page362">362</a></p> + + <p class="i4">SCENE IV. <a href="#page364">364</a></p> + + <p>Prologue. <a href="#page371">371</a></p> + + <p>Epilogue. <a href="#page372">372</a></p> + + <p><a href="#page373">APPENDIX.</a></p> + <p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="short" /> + <p> </p> +<p> </p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page301" + id="page301"></a>[pg 301]</span> + + <h2><i>Actus Primus. Scena Prima.</i></h2> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Achillas, <i>and</i> Achoreus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">[<i>Ach.</i>] I love the King, nor do + dispute his power,</p> + + <p>(For that is not confin'd, nor to be censur'd</p> + + <p>By me, that am his Subject) yet allow me</p> + + <p>The liberty of a Man, that still would be</p> + + <p>A friend to Justice, to demand the motives</p> + + <p>That did induce young <i>Ptolomy</i>, or + <i>Photinus</i>,</p> + + <p>(To whose directions he gives up himself,</p> + + <p>And I hope wisely) to commit his Sister,</p> + + <p>The Princess <i>Cleopatra</i> (if I said</p> + + <p>The Queen) <i>Achillas</i> 'twere (I hope) no + treason,</p> + + <p>She being by her Fathers Testament</p> + + <p>(Whose memory I bow to) left Co-heir</p> + + <p>In all he stood possest of.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> 'Tis confest</p> + + <p>(My good <i>Achoreus</i>) that in these Eastern + Kingdoms</p> + + <p>Women are not exempted from the Sceptre,</p> + + <p>But claim a priviledge, equal to the Male;</p> + + <p>But how much such divisions have ta'en from</p> + + <p>The Majesty of <i>Egypt</i>, and what factions</p> + + <p>Have sprung from those partitions, to the ruine</p> + + <p>Of the poor Subject, (doubtful which to follow,)</p> + + <p>We have too many, and too sad examples,</p> + + <p>Therefore the wise <i>Photinus</i>, to prevent</p> + + <p>The Murthers, and the Massacres, that attend</p> + + <p>On disunited Government, and to shew</p> + + <p>The King without a Partner, in full splendour,</p> + + <p>Thought it convenient the fair <i>Cleopatra</i>,</p> + + <p>(An attribute not frequent to the Climate)</p> + + <p>Should be committed in safe Custody,</p> + + <p>In which she is attended like her Birth,</p> + + <p>Until her Beauty, or her royal Dowre,</p> + + <p>Hath found her out a Husband.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> How this may</p> + + <p>Stand with the rules of policy, I know not;</p> + + <p>Most sure I am, it holds no correspondence</p> + + <p>With the Rites of <i>Ægypt</i>, or the Laws of + Nature;</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page302" + id="page302"></a>[pg 302]</span> + + <p>But grant that <i>Cleopatra</i> can sit down</p> + + <p>With this disgrace (though insupportable)</p> + + <p>Can you imagine, that <i>Romes</i> glorious + Senate</p> + + <p>(To whose charge, by the will of the dead King</p> + + <p>This government was deliver'd) or great + <i>Pompey</i>,</p> + + <p>(That is appointed <i>Cleopatra</i>'s Guardian</p> + + <p>As well as <i>Ptolomies</i>) will e're approve</p> + + <p>Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought + for,</p> + + <p>That should authorize it?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> The Civil war</p> + + <p>In which the <i>Roman</i> Empire is embarqu'd</p> + + <p>On a rough Sea of danger, does exact</p> + + <p>Their whole care to preserve themselves, and gives + them</p> + + <p>No vacant time to think of what we do,</p> + + <p>Which hardly can concern them.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> What's your opinion</p> + + <p>Of the success? I have heard, in multitudes</p> + + <p>Of Souldiers, and all glorious pomp of war,</p> + + <p><i>Pompey</i> is much superiour.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> I could give you</p> + + <p>A Catalogue of all the several Nations</p> + + <p>From whence he drew his powers: but that were + tedious.</p> + + <p>They have rich arms, are ten to one in number,</p> + + <p>Which makes them think the day already won;</p> + + <p>And <i>Pompey</i> being master of the Sea,</p> + + <p>Such plenty of all delicates are brought in,</p> + + <p>As if the place on which they are entrench'd,</p> + + <p>Were not a Camp of Souldiers, but <i>Rome</i>,</p> + + <p>In which <i>Lucullus</i> and <i>Apicius</i> + joyn'd,</p> + + <p>To make a publique Feast: they at + <i>Dirachium</i></p> + + <p>Fought with success; but knew not to make use of</p> + + <p><i>Fortunes</i> fair offer: so much I have heard</p> + + <p><i>Cæsar</i> himself confess.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Where are they now?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> In <i>Thessalie</i>, near + the <i>Pharsalian</i> plains</p> + + <p>Where <i>Cæsar</i> with a handfull of his Men</p> + + <p>Hems in the greater number: his whole troops</p> + + <p>Exceed not twenty thousand, but old Souldiers</p> + + <p>Flesh'd in the spoils of <i>Germany</i> and + <i>France</i>,</p> + + <p>Inur'd to his Command, and only + know</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page303" + id="page303"></a>[pg 303]</span> + + <p>To fight and overcome; And though that + <i>Famine</i></p> + + <p>Raigns in his Camp, compelling them to tast</p> + + <p>Bread made of roots, forbid the use of man,</p> + + <p>(Which they with scorn threw into <i>Pompeys</i> + Camp</p> + + <p>As in derision of his Delicates)</p> + + <p>Or corn not yet half ripe, and that a Banquet:</p> + + <p>They still besiege him, being ambitious only</p> + + <p>To come to blows, and let their swords determine</p> + + <p>Who hath the better Cause.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Septi[m]ius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> May Victory</p> + + <p>Attend on't, where it is.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> We every hour</p> + + <p>Expect to hear the issue.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Save my good Lords;</p> + + <p>By <i>Isis</i> and <i>Osiris</i>, whom you + worship;</p> + + <p>And the four hundred gods and goddesses</p> + + <p>Ador'd in <i>Rome</i>, I am your honours + servant.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Truth needs, + <i>Septimius</i>, no oaths.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> You are cruel,</p> + + <p>If you deny him swearing, you take from him</p> + + <p>Three full parts of his language.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Your Honour's bitter,</p> + + <p>Confound me, where I love I cannot say it,</p> + + <p>But I must swear't: yet such is my ill fortune,</p> + + <p>Nor vows, nor protestations win belief,</p> + + <p>I think, and (I can find no other reason)</p> + + <p>Because I am a <i>Roman</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> No <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>To be a <i>Roman</i> were an honour to you,</p> + + <p>Did not your manners, and your life take from + it,</p> + + <p>And cry aloud, that from <i>Rome</i> you bring + nothing</p> + + <p>But <i>Roman</i> Vices, which you would plant + here,</p> + + <p>But no seed of her vertues.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> With your reverence</p> + + <p>I am too old to learn.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Any thing honest,</p> + + <p>That I believe, without an oath.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I + fear</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page304" + id="page304"></a>[pg 304]</span> + + <p>Your Lordship has slept ill to night, and that</p> + + <p>Invites this sad discourse: 'twill make you old</p> + + <p>Before your time:—O these vertuous Morals,</p> + + <p>And old religious principles, that fool us!</p> + + <p>I have brought you a new Song, will make you + laugh,</p> + + <p>Though you were at your prayers.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>A[c]h.</i> What is the subject?</p> + + <p>Be free <i>Septimius</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> 'Tis a Catalogue</p> + + <p>Of all the Gamesters of the Court and City,</p> + + <p>Which Lord lyes with that Lady, and what Gallant</p> + + <p>Sports with that Merchants wife; and does relate</p> + + <p>Who sells her honour for a Diamond,</p> + + <p>Who, for a tissew robe: whose husband's jealous,</p> + + <p>And who so kind, that, to share with his wife,</p> + + <p>Will make the match himself:</p> + + <p>Harmless conceits,</p> + + <p>Though fools say they are dangerous: I sang it</p> + + <p>The last night at my Lord <i>Photinus</i> table.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> How? as a Fidler?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> No Sir, as a Guest,</p> + + <p>A welcom guest too: and it was approv'd of</p> + + <p>By a dozen of his friends, though they were touch'd + in't:</p> + + <p>For look you, 'tis a kind of merriment,</p> + + <p>When we have laid by foolish modesty</p> + + <p>(As not a man of fashion will wear it)</p> + + <p>To talk what we have done; at least to hear it;</p> + + <p>If meerily set down, it fires the blood,</p> + + <p>And heightens Crest-faln appetite.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> New doctrine!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Was't of your own + composing?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> No, I bought it</p> + + <p>Of a skulking Scribler for two Ptolomies:</p> + + <p>But the hints were mine own; the wretch was + fearfull:</p> + + <p>But I have damn'd my self, should it be + question'd,</p> + + <p>That I will own it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> And be punished for it:</p> + + <p>Take heed: for you may so long exercise</p> + + <p>Your scurrilous wit against authority,</p> + + <p>The Kingdoms Counsels; and make profane + Jests,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page305" + id="page305"></a>[pg 305]</span> + + <p>(Which to you (being an atheist) is nothing)</p> + + <p>Against Religion, that your great maintainers</p> + + <p>(Unless they would be thought Co-partners with + you)</p> + + <p>Will leave you to the Law: and then, + <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>Remember there are whips.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> For whore's I grant you,</p> + + <p>When they are out of date, till then are safe + too,</p> + + <p>Or all the Gallants of the Court are Eunuchs,</p> + + <p>And for mine own defence I'le only add this,</p> + + <p>I'le be admitted for a wanton tale</p> + + <p>To some most private Cabinets, when your + Priest-hood</p> + + <p>(Though laden with the mysteries of your + goddess)</p> + + <p>Shall wait without unnoted: so I leave you</p> + + <p>To your pious thoughts. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> 'Tis a strange + impudence,</p> + + <p>This fellow does put on.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> The wonder great,</p> + + <p>He is accepted of.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Vices, for him,</p> + + <p>Make as free way as vertues doe for others.</p> + + <p>'Tis the times fault: yet Great ones still have + grace'd</p> + + <p>To make them sport, or rub them o're with + flattery,</p> + + <p>Observers of all kinds.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Photinus, <i>and</i> Septimius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> No more of him,</p> + + <p>He is not worth our thoughts: a Fugitive</p> + + <p>From <i>Pompeys</i> army: and now in a danger</p> + + <p>When he should use his service.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> See how he hangs</p> + + <p>On great <i>Photinus</i> Ear.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Hell, and the furies,</p> + + <p>And all the plagues of darkness light upon me:</p> + + <p>You are my god on earth: and let me have</p> + + <p>Your favour here, fall what can fall hereafter.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Thou art believ'd: dost thou + want mony?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> No Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Or hast thou any suite? these + ever follow</p> + + <p>Thy vehement protestations.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> You much wrong + me;</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page306" + id="page306"></a>[pg 306]</span> + + <p>How can I want, when your beams shine upon me,</p> + + <p>Unless employment to express my zeal</p> + + <p>To do your greatness service? do but think</p> + + <p>A deed so dark, the Sun would blush to look on,</p> + + <p>For which Man-kind would curse me, and arm all</p> + + <p>The powers above, and those below against me:</p> + + <p>Command me, I will on.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> When I have use,</p> + + <p>I'le put you to the test.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> May it be speedy,</p> + + <p>And something worth my danger: you are cold,</p> + + <p>And know not your own powers: this brow was + fashion'd</p> + + <p>To wear a Kingly wreath, and your grave + judgment,</p> + + <p>Given to dispose of monarchies, not to govern</p> + + <p>A childs affairs, the peoples eye's upon you,</p> + + <p>The Souldier courts you: will you wear a garment</p> + + <p>Of sordid loyalty when 'tis out of fashion?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> When <i>Pompey</i> was thy + General, <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>Thou saidst as much to him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> All my love to him,</p> + + <p>To <i>Cæsar</i>, <i>Rome</i>, and the whole world is + lost</p> + + <p>In the Ocean of your Bounties: I have no friend,</p> + + <p>Project, design, or Countrey, but your favour,</p> + + <p>Which I'le preserve at any rate.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> No more;</p> + + <p>When I call on you, fall not off: perhaps</p> + + <p>Sooner than you expect, I may employ you,</p> + + <p>So leave me for a while.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Ever your Creature. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Good day <i>Achoreus</i>; my + best friend <i>Achillas</i>,</p> + + <p>Hath fame deliver'd yet no certain rumour</p> + + <p>Of the great <i>Roman Action</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> That we are</p> + + <p>To enquire, and learn of you Sir: whose grave + care</p> + + <p>For <i>Egypts</i> happiness, and great + <i>Ptolomies</i> good,</p> + + <p>Hath eyes and ears in all parts.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Labienus, <i>Guard.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I'le not boast,</p> + + <p>What my Intelligence costs me: but 'ere + long</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page307" + id="page307"></a>[pg 307]</span> + + <p>You shall know more. The King, with him a + <i>Roman</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> The scarlet livery of + unfortunate war</p> + + <p>Dy'd deeply on his face.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> 'Tis <i>Labienus</i></p> + + <p><i>Cæsars</i> Lieutenant in the wars of + <i>Gaul</i>,</p> + + <p>And fortunate in all his undertakings:</p> + + <p>But since these Civil jars he turn'd to + <i>Pompey</i>,</p> + + <p>And though he followed the better Cause</p> + + <p>Not with the like success.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Such as are wise</p> + + <p>Leave falling buildings, flye to those that + rise;</p> + + <p>But more of that hereafter.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Lab.</i> In a word, Sir,</p> + + <p>These gaping wounds, not taken as a slave,</p> + + <p>Speak <i>Pompey's</i> loss: to tell you of the + Battail,</p> + + <p>How many thousand several bloody shapes</p> + + <p>Death wore that day in triumph: how we bore</p> + + <p>The shock of <i>Cæsars</i> charge: or with what + fury</p> + + <p>His Souldiers came on as if they had been</p> + + <p>So many <i>Cæsars</i>, and like him ambitious</p> + + <p>To tread upon the liberty of <i>Rome</i>:</p> + + <p>How Fathers kill'd their Sons, or Sons their + Fathers,</p> + + <p>Or how the <i>Roman</i> Piles on either side</p> + + <p>Drew <i>Roman</i> blood, which spent, the Prince of + weapons,</p> + + <p>(The sword) succeeded, which in Civil wars</p> + + <p>Appoints the Tent on which wing'd victory</p> + + <p>Shall make a certain Stand; then, how the Plains</p> + + <p>Flow'd o're with blood, and what a cloud of + vulturs</p> + + <p>And other birds of prey, hung o're both armies,</p> + + <p>Attending when their ready Servitors,</p> + + <p>(The Souldiers, from whom the angry gods</p> + + <p>Had took all sense of reason, and of pity)</p> + + <p>Would serve in their own carkasses for a feast,</p> + + <p>How <i>Cæsar</i> with his Javelin force'd them + on</p> + + <p>That made the least stop, when their angry hands</p> + + <p>Were lifted up against some known friends face;</p> + + <p>Then coming to the body of the army</p> + + <p>He shews the sacred <i>Senate</i>, and forbids + them</p> + + <p>To wast their force upon the Common Souldier,</p> + + <p>Whom willingly, if e're he did know + pity,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page308" + id="page308"></a>[pg 308]</span> + + <p>He would have spar'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> The reason + <i>Labienus</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Lab.</i> Full well he knows, that in + their blood he was</p> + + <p>To pass to Empire, and that through their bowels</p> + + <p>He must invade the Laws of <i>Rome</i>, and give</p> + + <p>A period to the liberty of the world.</p> + + <p>Then fell the <i>Lepidi</i>, and the bold + <i>Corvini</i>,</p> + + <p>The fam'd <i>Torquati</i>, <i>Scipio's</i>, and + <i>Marcelli</i>,</p> + + <p>(Names next to <i>Pompeys</i>, most renown'd on + Earth)</p> + + <p>The Nobles, and the Commons lay together,</p> + + <p>And Pontique, Punique, and <i>Assyrian</i> blood</p> + + <p>Made up one crimson Lake: which <i>Pompey</i> + seeing,</p> + + <p>And that his, and the fate of <i>Rome</i> had left + him</p> + + <p>Standing upon the Rampier of his Camp,</p> + + <p>Though scorning all that could fall on himself,</p> + + <p>He pities them whose fortunes are embarqu'd</p> + + <p>In his unlucky quarrel; cryes aloud too</p> + + <p>That they should sound retreat, and save + themselves:</p> + + <p>That he desir'd not, so much noble blood</p> + + <p>Should be lost in his service, or attend</p> + + <p>On his misfortunes: and then, taking horse</p> + + <p>With some few of his friends, he came to + <i>Lesbos</i>,</p> + + <p>And with <i>Cornelia</i>, his Wife, and Sons,</p> + + <p>He's touch'd upon your shore: the King of + <i>Parthia</i>,</p> + + <p>(Famous in his defeature of the <i>Crassi</i>)</p> + + <p>Offer'd him his protection, but <i>Pompey</i></p> + + <p>Relying on his Benefits, and your Faith,</p> + + <p>Hath chosen <i>Ægypt</i> for his Sanctuary,</p> + + <p>Till he may recollect his scattered powers,</p> + + <p>And try a second day: now <i>Ptolomy</i>,</p> + + <p>Though he appear not like that glorious thing</p> + + <p>That three times rode in triumph, and gave laws</p> + + <p>To conquer'd Nations, and made Crowns his gift</p> + + <p>(As this of yours, your noble Father took</p> + + <p>From his victorious hand, and you still wear it</p> + + <p>At his devotion) to do you more honour</p> + + <p>In his declin'd estate, as the straightst Pine</p> + + <p>In a full grove of his yet flourishing friends,</p> + + <p>He flyes to you for succour, and expects</p> + + <p>The entertainment of your Fathers + friend,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page309" + id="page309"></a>[pg 309]</span> + + <p>And Guardian to your self.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> To say I grieve his + fortune</p> + + <p>As much as if the Crown I wear (his gift)</p> + + <p>Were ravish'd from me, is a holy truth,</p> + + <p>Our Gods can witness for me: yet, being young,</p> + + <p>And not a free disposer of my self;</p> + + <p>Let not a few hours, borrowed for advice,</p> + + <p>Beget suspicion of unthankfulness,</p> + + <p>(Which next to Hell I hate) pray you retire,</p> + + <p>And take a little rest, and let his wounds</p> + + <p>Be with that care attended, as they were</p> + + <p>Carv'd on my flesh: good <i>Labienus</i>, think</p> + + <p>The little respite, I desire shall be</p> + + <p>Wholly emploi'd to find the readiest way</p> + + <p>To doe great <i>Pompey</i> service.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Lab.</i> May the gods</p> + + <p>(As you intend) protect you. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Sit: sit all,</p> + + <p>It is my pleasure: your advice, and freely.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> A short deliberation in + this,</p> + + <p>May serve to give you counsel: to be honest,</p> + + <p>Religious and thankfull, in themselves</p> + + <p>Are forcible motives, and can need no flourish</p> + + <p>Or gloss in the perswader; your kept faith,</p> + + <p>(Though <i>Pompey</i> never rise to th' height he's + fallen from)</p> + + <p><i>Cæsar</i> himself will love; and my opinion</p> + + <p>Is (still committing it to graver censure)</p> + + <p>You pay the debt you owe him, with the hazard</p> + + <p>Of all you can call yours.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> What's yours, + (<i>Photinus</i>?)</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> <i>Achoreus</i> (great + <i>Ptolomy</i>) hath counsell'd</p> + + <p>Like a Religious, and honest man,</p> + + <p>Worthy the honour that he justly holds</p> + + <p>In being Priest to <i>Isis</i>: But alas,</p> + + <p>What in a man, sequester'd from the world,</p> + + <p>Or in a private person, is prefer'd,</p> + + <p>No policy allows of in a King,</p> + + <p>To be or just, or thankfull, makes Kings guilty,</p> + + <p>And faith (though prais'd) is punish'd that + supports</p> + + <p>Such as good Fate forsakes: joyn with the + gods,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page310" + id="page310"></a>[pg 310]</span> + + <p>Observe the man they favour, leave the wretched,</p> + + <p>The Stars are not more distant from the Earth</p> + + <p>Than profit is from honesty; all the power,</p> + + <p>Prerogative, and greatness of a Prince</p> + + <p>Is lost, if he descend once but to steer</p> + + <p>His course, as what's right, guides him: let him + leave</p> + + <p>The Scepter, that strives only to be good,</p> + + <p>Since Kingdomes are maintain'd by force and + blood.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Oh wicked!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Peace: goe on.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Proud Pompey shews how much + he scorns your youth,</p> + + <p>In thinking that you cannot keep your own</p> + + <p>From such as are or'e come. If you are tired</p> + + <p>With being a King, let not a stranger take</p> + + <p>What nearer pledges challenge: resign rather</p> + + <p>The government of <i>Egypt</i> and of + <i>Nile</i></p> + + <p>To <i>Cleopatra</i>, that has title to them,</p> + + <p>At least defend them from the Roman + <i>gripe</i>,</p> + + <p>What was not <i>Pompeys</i>, while the wars + endured,</p> + + <p>The Conquerour will not challenge; by all the + world</p> + + <p>Forsaken and despis'd, your gentle Guardian</p> + + <p>His hopes and fortunes desperate, makes choice + of</p> + + <p>What Nation he shall fall with: and pursu'd</p> + + <p>By their pale ghosts, slain in this Civil war,</p> + + <p>He flyes not <i>Cæsar</i> only, but the Senate,</p> + + <p>Of which, the greater part have cloi'd the + hunger</p> + + <p>Of sharp <i>Pharsalian</i> fowl, he flies the + Nations</p> + + <p>That he drew to his Quarrel, whose Estates</p> + + <p>Are sunk in his: and in no place receiv'd,</p> + + <p>Hath found out <i>Egypt</i>, by him yet not + ruin'd:</p> + + <p>And <i>Ptolomy</i>, things consider'd, justly + may</p> + + <p>Complain of <i>Pompey</i>: wherefore should he + stain</p> + + <p>Our <i>Egypt</i>, with the spots of civil war?</p> + + <p>Or make the peaceable, or quiet <i>Nile</i></p> + + <p>Doubted of <i>Cæsar</i>? wherefore should he + draw</p> + + <p>His loss, and overthrow upon our heads?</p> + + <p>Or choose this place to suffer in? already</p> + + <p>We have offended <i>Cæsar</i>, in our wishes,</p> + + <p>And no way left us to redeem his favour</p> + + <p>But by the head of + <i>Pompey</i>.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page311" + id="page311"></a>[pg 311]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Great <i>Osiris</i>,</p> + + <p>Defend thy <i>Ægypt</i> from such cruelty,</p> + + <p>And barbarous ingratitude!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Holy trifles,</p> + + <p>And not to have place in designs of State;</p> + + <p>This sword, which Fate commands me to unsheath,</p> + + <p>I would not draw on <i>Pompey</i>, if not + vanquish'd.</p> + + <p>I grant it rather should have pass'd through + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>But we must follow where his fortune leads us;</p> + + <p>All provident Princes measure their intents</p> + + <p>According to their power, and so dispose them:</p> + + <p>And thinkst thou (<i>Ptolomy</i>) that thou canst + prop</p> + + <p>His Ruines, under whom sad <i>Rome</i> now + suffers?</p> + + <p>Or 'tempt the Conquerours force when 'tis + confirm'd?</p> + + <p>Shall we, that in the Battail sate as Neuters</p> + + <p>Serve him that's overcome? No, no, he's lost.</p> + + <p>And though 'tis noble to a sinking friend</p> + + <p>To lend a helping hand, while there is hope</p> + + <p>He may recover, thy part not engag'd</p> + + <p>Though one most dear, when all his hopes are + dead,</p> + + <p>To drown him, set thy foot upon his head.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Most execrable Counsel.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> To be follow'd,</p> + + <p>'Tis for the Kingdoms safety.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> We give up</p> + + <p>Our absolute power to thee: dispose of it</p> + + <p>As reason shall direct thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Good <i>Achillas</i>,</p> + + <p>Seek out <i>Septimius</i>: do you but sooth him,</p> + + <p>He is already wrought: leave the dispatch</p> + + <p>To me of <i>Labienus</i>: 'tis determin'd</p> + + <p>Already how you shall proceed: nor Fate</p> + + <p>Shall alter it, since now the dye is cast,</p> + + <p>But that this hour to <i>Pompey</i> is his last. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENA II.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Apollodorus, Eros, Arsino. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Apol.</i> Is the Queen stirring, + <i>Eros</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros.</i> Yes, for in + truth</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page312" + id="page312"></a>[pg 312]</span> + + <p>She touch'd no bed to night.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Apol.</i> I am sorry for it,</p> + + <p>And wish it were in me, with my hazard,</p> + + <p>To give her ease.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Sir, she accepts your + will,</p> + + <p>And does acknowledge she hath found you noble,</p> + + <p>So far, as if restraint of liberty</p> + + <p>Could give admission to a thought of mirth,</p> + + <p>She is your debtor for it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Apol.</i> Did you tell her</p> + + <p>Of the sports I have prepar'd to entertain her?</p> + + <p>She was us'd to take delight, with her fair + hand,</p> + + <p>To angle in the <i>Nile</i>, where the glad fish</p> + + <p>(As if they knew who 'twas sought to deceive + 'em)</p> + + <p>Contended to be taken: other times</p> + + <p>To strike the Stag, who wounded by her arrows,</p> + + <p>Forgot his tears in death, and kneeling thanks + her</p> + + <p>To his last gasp, then prouder of his Fate,</p> + + <p>Than if with Garlands Crown'd, he had been + chosen</p> + + <p>To fall a Sacrifice before the altar</p> + + <p>Of the Virgin Huntress: the King, nor great + <i>Photinus</i></p> + + <p>Forbid her any pleasure; and the Circuit</p> + + <p>In which she is confin'd, gladly affords</p> + + <p>Variety of pastimes, which I would</p> + + <p>Encrease with my best service.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros.</i> O, but the thought</p> + + <p>That she that was born free, and to dispense</p> + + <p>Restraint, or liberty to others, should be</p> + + <p>At the devotion of her Brother, whom</p> + + <p>She only knows her equal, makes this place</p> + + <p>In which she lives (though stor'd with all + delights)</p> + + <p>A loathsome dungeon to her.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Apol.</i> Yet, (howe're</p> + + <p>She shall interpret it) I'le not be wanting</p> + + <p>To do my best to serve her: I have prepar'd</p> + + <p>Choise Musick near her Cabinet, and compos'd</p> + + <p>Some few lines, (set unto a solemn time)</p> + + <p>In the praise of imprisonment. Begin Boy.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page313" + id="page313"></a>[pg 313]</span> + + <h4>The SONG.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Look out bright eyes, and bless the air:</i></p> + + <p><i>Even in shadows you are fair.</i></p> + + <p><i>Shut-up-beauty is like fire,</i></p> + + <p><i>That breaks out clearer still and higher.</i></p> + + <p><i>Though your body be confin'd,</i></p> + + <p><i>And soft Love a prisoner bound,</i></p> + + <p><i>Yet the beauty of your mind</i></p> + + <p><i>Neither check, nor chain hath found.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Look out nobly then, and dare</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Even the Fetters that you + wear.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cleopatra. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> But that we are assur'd this + tastes of duty,</p> + + <p>And love in you, my <i>Guardian</i>, and desire</p> + + <p>In you, my <i>Sister</i>, and the rest, to please + us,</p> + + <p>We should receive this, as a sawcy rudeness</p> + + <p>Offer'd our private thoughts. But your intents</p> + + <p>Are to delight us: alas, you wash an + <i>Ethiop</i>:</p> + + <p>Can <i>Cleopatra</i>, while she does remember</p> + + <p>Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O</p> + + <p>I suffer in the name) and that (in Justice)</p> + + <p>There is no place in <i>Ægypt</i>, where I + stand,</p> + + <p>But that the tributary Earth is proud</p> + + <p>To kiss the foot of her, that is her Queen,</p> + + <p>Can she, I say, that is all this, e're relish</p> + + <p>Of comfort, or delight, while base + <i>Photinus</i>,</p> + + <p>Bond-man <i>Achillas</i>, and all other monsters</p> + + <p>That raign o're <i>Ptolomy</i>, make that a + Court,</p> + + <p>Where they reside, and this, where I, a Prison?</p> + + <p>But there's a <i>Rome</i>, a <i>Senate</i>, and a + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>(Though the great <i>Pompey</i> lean to + <i>Ptolomy</i>)</p> + + <p>May think of <i>Cleopatra</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> <i>Pompey</i>, Madam?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> What of him? speak: if ill, + <i>Apollodorus</i>,</p> + + <p>It is my happiness: and for thy news</p> + + <p>Receive a favour (<i>Kings</i> have kneel'd in vain + for)</p> + + <p>And kiss my hand.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> He's + lost.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page314" + id="page314"></a>[pg 314]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Speak it again!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> His army routed: he fled and + pursu'd</p> + + <p>By the all-conquering Cæsar.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Whither bends he?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> To <i>Egypt</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Ha! in person?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> 'Tis receiv'd</p> + + <p>For an undoubted truth.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I live again,</p> + + <p>And if assurance of my love, and beauty</p> + + <p>Deceive me not, I now shall find a Judge</p> + + <p>To do me right: but how to free my self,</p> + + <p>And get access? the <i>Guards</i> are strong upon + me,</p> + + <p>This door I must pass through. + <i>Apollodorus</i>,</p> + + <p>Thou often hast profess'd (to do me service,)</p> + + <p>Thy life was not thine own.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> I am not alter'd;</p> + + <p>And let your excellency propound a means,</p> + + <p>In which I may but give the least assistance,</p> + + <p>That may restore you, to that you were born to,</p> + + <p>(Though it call on the anger of the King,</p> + + <p>Or, (what's more deadly) all his Minion</p> + + <p><i>Photinus</i> can do to me) I, unmov'd,</p> + + <p>Offer my throat to serve you: ever provided,</p> + + <p>It bear some probable shew to be effected.</p> + + <p>To lose my self upon no ground, were madness,</p> + + <p>Not loyal duty.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Stand off: to thee + alone,</p> + + <p>I will discover what I dare not trust</p> + + <p>My Sister with, <i>Cæsar</i> is amorous,</p> + + <p>And taken more with the title of a Queen,</p> + + <p>Than feature or proportion, he lov'd + <i>Eunoe</i>,</p> + + <p>A <i>Moor</i>, deformed too, I have heard, that + brought</p> + + <p>No other object to inflame his blood,</p> + + <p>But that her Husband was a King, on both</p> + + <p>He did bestow rich presents; shall I then,</p> + + <p>That with a princely birth, bring beauty with + me,</p> + + <p>That know to prize my self at mine own rate,</p> + + <p>Despair his favour? art thou mine?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> I + am.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page315" + id="page315"></a>[pg 315]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I have found out a way shall + bring me to him,</p> + + <p>Spight of <i>Photinus</i> watches; if I prosper,</p> + + <p>(As I am confident I shall) expect</p> + + <p>Things greater than thy wishes; though I + purchase</p> + + <p>His grace with loss of my virginity,</p> + + <p>It skills not, if it bring home Majesty. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h2><i>Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.</i></h2> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Septimius, <i>with a head</i>, Achillas, + <i>Guard.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> 'Tis here, 'tis done, behold + you fearfull viewers,</p> + + <p>Shake, and behold the model of the world here,</p> + + <p>The pride, and strength, look, look again, 'tis + finish'd;</p> + + <p>That, that whole Armies, nay whole nations,</p> + + <p>Many and mighty Kings, have been struck blind + at,</p> + + <p>And fled before, wing'd with their fears and + terrours,</p> + + <p>That steel war waited on, and fortune courted,</p> + + <p>That high plum'd honour built up for her own;</p> + + <p>Behold that mightiness, behold that fierceness,</p> + + <p>Behold that child of war, with all his glories;</p> + + <p>By this poor hand made breathless, here (my + <i>Achillas</i>)</p> + + <p><i>Egypt</i>, and <i>Cæsar</i>, owe me for this + service,</p> + + <p>And all the conquer'd Nations.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Peace <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>Thy words sound more ungratefull than thy + actions,</p> + + <p>Though sometimes safety seek an instrument</p> + + <p>Of thy unworthy nature, thou (loud boaster)</p> + + <p>Think not she is bound to love him too, that's + barbarous.</p> + + <p>Why did not I, if this be meritorious,</p> + + <p>And binds the King unto me, and his bounties,</p> + + <p>Strike this rude stroke? I'le tell thee (thou poor + <i>Roman</i>)</p> + + <p>It was a sacred head, I durst not heave at,</p> + + <p>Not heave a thought.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> It was.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> I'le tell thee truely,</p> + + <p>And if thou ever yet heard'st tell of honour,</p> + + <p>I'le make thee blush: It was thy General's;</p> + + <p>That mans that fed thee once, that mans that bred + thee,</p> + + <p>The air thou breath'dst was his; the fire that + warm'd thee,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page316" + id="page316"></a>[pg 316]</span> + + <p>From his care kindled ever, nay, I'le show thee,</p> + + <p>(Because I'le make thee sensible of the + business,</p> + + <p>And why a noble man durst not touch at it)</p> + + <p>There was no piece of Earth, thou putst thy foot + on</p> + + <p>But was his conquest; and he gave thee motion.</p> + + <p>He triumph'd three times, who durst touch his + person?</p> + + <p>The very walls of <i>Rome</i> bow'd to his + presence,</p> + + <p>Dear to the Gods he was, to them that fear'd him</p> + + <p>A fair and noble Enemy. Didst thou hate him?</p> + + <p>And for thy love to <i>Cæsar</i>, sought his + ruine?</p> + + <p>Arm'd in the red <i>Pharsalian</i> fields, + <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>Where killing was in grace, and wounds were + glorious,</p> + + <p>Where Kings were fair competitours for honour,</p> + + <p>Thou shouldst have come up to him, there have fought + him,</p> + + <p>There, Sword to Sword.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I kill'd him on + commandment,</p> + + <p>If Kings commands be fair, when you all fainted,</p> + + <p>When none of you durst look—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> On deeds so barbarous,</p> + + <p>What hast thou got?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> The Kings love, and his + bounty,</p> + + <p>The honour of the service, which though you rail + at,</p> + + <p>Or a thousand envious souls fling their foams on + me,</p> + + <p>Will dignifie the cause, and make me glorious:</p> + + <p>And I shall live.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> A miserable villain,</p> + + <p>What reputation, and reward belongs to it</p> + + <p>Thus (with the head) I seize on, and make mine;</p> + + <p>And be not impudent to ask me why, Sirrah,</p> + + <p>Nor bold to stay, read in mine eyes the reason:</p> + + <p>The shame and obloquy I leave thine own,</p> + + <p>Inherit those rewards, they are fitter for thee,</p> + + <p>Your oyl's spent, and your snuff stinks: go out + basely.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + [<i>Exit.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> The King will yet + consider.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Here he comes Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Yet if it be undone: hear me + great Sir,</p> + + <p>If this inhumane stroak be yet unstrucken,</p> + + <p>If that adored head be not yet + sever'd</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page317" + id="page317"></a>[pg 317]</span> + + <p>From the most noble Body, weigh the miseries,</p> + + <p>The desolations that this great Eclipse works,</p> + + <p>You are young, be provident: fix not your Empire</p> + + <p>Upon the Tomb of him will shake all + <i>Egypt</i>,</p> + + <p>Whose warlike groans will raise ten thousand + Spirits,</p> + + <p>(Great as himself) in every hand a thunder;</p> + + <p>Destructions darting from their looks, and + sorrows</p> + + <p>That easy womens eyes shall never empty.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> You have done well; and 'tis + done, see <i>Achillas</i>,</p> + + <p>And in his hand the head.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Stay come no nearer,</p> + + <p>Me thinks I feel the very earth shake under me,</p> + + <p>I do remember him, he was my guardian,</p> + + <p>Appointed by the Senate to preserve me:</p> + + <p>What a full Majesty sits in his face yet?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> The King is troubled: be not + frighted Sir,</p> + + <p>Be not abus'd with fears; his death was + necessary,</p> + + <p>If you consider, Sir, most necessary,</p> + + <p>Not to be miss'd: and humbly thank great + <i>Isis</i>,</p> + + <p>He came so opportunely to your hands;</p> + + <p>Pity must now give place to rules of safety.</p> + + <p>Is not victorious <i>Cæsar</i> new arriv'd,</p> + + <p>And enter'd <i>Alexandria</i>, with his friends,</p> + + <p>His <i>Navy</i> riding by to wait his charges?</p> + + <p>Did he not beat this <i>Pompey</i>, and pursu'd + him?</p> + + <p>Was not this great man, his great enemy?</p> + + <p>This Godlike vertuous man, as people held him,</p> + + <p>But what fool dare be friend to flying vertue?</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Anthony, Dolabella, Sceva. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I hear their Trumpets, 'tis too late to stagger,</p> + + <p>Give me the head, and be you confident:</p> + + <p>Hail Conquerour, and head of all the world,</p> + + <p>Now this head's off.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Ha?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Do not shun me, + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>From kingly <i>Ptolomy</i> I bring this present,</p> + + <p>The Crown, and sweat of thy <i>Pharsalian</i> + labour:</p> + + <p>The goal and mark of high ambitious honour.</p> + + <p>Before thy victory had no name, + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page318" + id="page318"></a>[pg 318]</span> + + <p>Thy travel and thy loss of blood, no recompence,</p> + + <p>Thou dreamst of being worthy, and of war;</p> + + <p>And all thy furious conflicts were but slumbers,</p> + + <p>Here they take life: here they inherit honour,</p> + + <p>Grow fixt, and shoot up everlasting triumphs:</p> + + <p>Take it, and look upon thy humble servant,</p> + + <p>With noble eyes look on the Princely + <i>Ptolomy</i>,</p> + + <p>That offers with this head (most mighty + <i>Cæsar</i>)</p> + + <p>What thou would'st once have given for it, all + <i>Egypt</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Nor do not question it (most + royal Conquerour)</p> + + <p>Nor dis-esteem the benefit that meets thee,</p> + + <p>Because 'tis easily got, it comes the safer:</p> + + <p>Yet let me tell thee (most imperious + <i>Cæsar</i>)</p> + + <p>Though he oppos'd no strength of Swords to win + this,</p> + + <p>Nor labour'd through no showres of darts, and + lances:</p> + + <p>Yet here he found a fort, that faced him + strongly,</p> + + <p>An inward war: he was his Grand-sires Guest;</p> + + <p>Friend to his Father, and when he was expell'd</p> + + <p>And beaten from this Kingdom by strong hand,</p> + + <p>And had none left him, to restore his honour,</p> + + <p>No hope to find a friend, in such a misery;</p> + + <p>Then in stept <i>Pompey</i>; took his feeble + fortune:</p> + + <p>Strengthen'd, and cherish'd it, and set it right + again,</p> + + <p>This was a love to <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sceva.</i> Give me, hate, Gods.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> This <i>Cæsar</i> may account + a little wicked,</p> + + <p>But yet remember, if thine own hands, + Conquerour,</p> + + <p>Had fallen upon him, what it had been then?</p> + + <p>If thine own sword had touch'd his throat, what that + way!</p> + + <p>He was thy Son in Law, there to be tainted,</p> + + <p>Had been most terrible: let the worst be + render'd,</p> + + <p>We have deserv'd for keeping thy hands innocent.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> Oh <i>Sceva, Sceva</i>, see + that head: see Captains,</p> + + <p>The head of godlike <i>Pompey</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sceva.</i> He was basely ruin'd,</p> + + <p>But let the Gods be griev'd that suffer'd it,</p> + + <p>And be you Cæsar—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> Oh thou Conquerour,</p> + + <p>Thou glory of the world once, now the pity:</p> + + <p>Thou awe of Nations, wherefore didst thou fall + thus?</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page319" + id="page319"></a>[pg 319]</span> + + <p>What poor fate follow'd thee, and pluckt thee on</p> + + <p>To trust thy sacred life to an <i>Egyptian</i>;</p> + + <p>The life and light of <i>Rome</i>, to a blind + stranger,</p> + + <p>That honorable war ne'r taught a nobleness,</p> + + <p>Nor worthy circumstance shew'd what a man was,</p> + + <p>That never heard thy name sung, but in banquets;</p> + + <p>And loose lascivious pleasures? to a Boy,</p> + + <p>That had no faith to comprehend thy greatness,</p> + + <p>No study of thy life to know thy goodness;</p> + + <p>And leave thy Nation, nay, thy noble friend,</p> + + <p>Leave him (distrusted) that in tears falls with + thee?</p> + + <p>(In soft relenting tears) hear me (great + <i>Pompey</i>)</p> + + <p>(If thy great spirit can hear) I must task thee:</p> + + <p>Thou hast most unnobly rob'd me of my victory,</p> + + <p>My love, and mercy.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> O how brave these tears + shew!</p> + + <p>How excellent is sorrow in an Enemy!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Glory appears not greater + than this goodness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> <i>Egyptians</i>, dare you + think your high <i>Pyramides</i>,</p> + + <p>Built to out-dare the Sun, as you suppose,</p> + + <p>Where your unworthy Kings lye rak'd in ashes,</p> + + <p>Are monuments fit for him? no, (brood of + <i>Nilus</i>)</p> + + <p>Nothing can cover his high fame, but Heaven;</p> + + <p>No <i>Pyramides</i> set off his memories,</p> + + <p>But the eternal substance of his greatness</p> + + <p>To which I leave him: take the head away,</p> + + <p>And (with the body) give it noble burial,</p> + + <p>Your Earth shall now be bless'd to hold a + <i>Roman</i>,</p> + + <p>Whose braverys all the worlds-Earth cannot + ballance.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> If thou bee'st thus loving, I + shall honour thee,</p> + + <p>But great men may dissemble, 'tis held possible,</p> + + <p>And be right glad of what they seem to weep for,</p> + + <p>There are such kind of Philosophers; now do I + wonder</p> + + <p>How he would look if <i>Pompey</i> were alive + again,</p> + + <p>But how he would set his face?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> You look now, King,</p> + + <p>And you that have been Agents in this glory,</p> + + <p>For our especial favour?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> We desire it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> And doubtless you expect + rewards.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page320" + id="page320"></a>[pg 320]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sceva</i>. Let me give 'em:</p> + + <p>I'le give 'em such as nature never dreamt of,</p> + + <p>I'le beat him and his Agents (in a morter)</p> + + <p>Into one man, and that one man I'le bake then.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Peace: I forgive you all, + that's recompence:</p> + + <p>You are young, and ignorant, that pleads your + pardon,</p> + + <p>And fear it may be more than hate provok'd ye,</p> + + <p>Your Ministers, I must think, wanted judgment,</p> + + <p>And so they err'd: I am bountiful to think this;</p> + + <p>Believe me most bountiful; be you most thankful,</p> + + <p>That bounty share amongst ye: if I knew</p> + + <p>What to send you for a present, King of + <i>Egypt</i>,</p> + + <p>(I mean a head of equal reputation</p> + + <p>And that you lov'd) though it were your brightest + Sisters,</p> + + <p>(But her you hate) I would not be behind ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Hear me, (Great + <i>Cæsar</i>.)</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> I have heard too much,</p> + + <p>And study not with smooth shews to invade</p> + + <p>My noble Mind as you have done my Conquest.</p> + + <p>Ye are poor and open: I must tell ye roundly,</p> + + <p>That Man that could not recompence the Benefits,</p> + + <p>The great and bounteous services of + <i>Pompey</i>,</p> + + <p>Can never dote upon the Name of <i>Cæsar</i>;</p> + + <p>Though I had hated <i>Pompey</i>, and allow'd his + ruine,</p> + + <p>[I gave you no commission to performe it:]</p> + + <p>Hasty to please in Blood are seldome trusty;</p> + + <p>And but I stand inviron'd with my Victories,</p> + + <p>My Fortune never failing to befriend me,</p> + + <p>My noble strengths, and friends about my Person,</p> + + <p>I durst not try ye, nor expect: a Courtesie,</p> + + <p>Above the pious love you shew'd to + <i>Pompey</i>.</p> + + <p>You have found me merciful in arguing with you;</p> + + <p>Swords, Hangmen, Fires, Destructions of all + natures,</p> + + <p>Demolishments of Kingdoms, and whole Ruines</p> + + <p>Are wont to be my Orators; turn to tears,</p> + + <p>You wretched and poor seeds of Sun-burnt + <i>Egypt</i>,</p> + + <p>And now you have found the nature of a + Conquerour,</p> + + <p>That you cannot decline with all your + flatteries,</p> + + <p>That where the day gives light will be himself + still,</p> + + <p>Know how to meet his Worth with humane + Courtesies,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page321" + id="page321"></a>[pg 321]</span> + + <p>Go, and embalm those bones of that great + Souldier;</p> + + <p>Howl round about his Pile, fling on your Spices,</p> + + <p>Make a <i>Sabæan</i> Bed, and place this Phoenix</p> + + <p>Where the hot Sun may emulate his Vertues,</p> + + <p>And draw another <i>Pompey</i> from his ashes</p> + + <p>Divinely great, and fix him 'mongst the + Worthies.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> We will do all.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> You have rob'd him of those + tears</p> + + <p>His Kindred and his Friends kept sacred for him;</p> + + <p>The Virgins of their Funeral Lamentations:</p> + + <p>And that kind Earth that thought to cover him,</p> + + <p>(His Countries Earth) will cry out 'gainst your + Cruelty,</p> + + <p>And weep unto the Ocean for revenge,</p> + + <p>Till <i>Nilus</i> raise his seven heads and devour + ye;</p> + + <p>My grief has stopt the rest: when <i>Pompey</i> + liv'd</p> + + <p>He us'd you nobly, now he is dead use him so. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Now, where's your + confidence? your aim (<i>Photinus</i>)</p> + + <p>The Oracles, and fair Favours from the + Conquerour</p> + + <p>You rung into mine Ears? how stand I now?</p> + + <p>You see the tempest of his stern displeasure,</p> + + <p>The death of him you urged a Sacrifice</p> + + <p>To stop his Rage, presaging a full ruine;</p> + + <p>Where are your Counsels now?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Acho.</i> I told you, Sir,</p> + + <p>(And told the truth) what danger would flye + after;</p> + + <p>And though an Enemy, I satisfied you</p> + + <p>He was a <i>Roman</i>, and the top of Honour;</p> + + <p>And howsoever this might please Great + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>I told ye that the foulness of his Death,</p> + + <p>The impious baseness—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Peace, you are a Fool,</p> + + <p>Men of deep ends must tread as deep ways to 'em;</p> + + <p><i>Cæsar</i> I know is pleas'd, and for all his + sorrows</p> + + <p>(Which are put on for forms and meer + dissemblings)</p> + + <p>I am confident he's glad; to have told ye so,</p> + + <p>And thank ye outwardly, had been too open,</p> + + <p>And taken from the Wisedom of a Conquerour.</p> + + <p>Be confident and proud ye have done this + service;</p> + + <p>Ye have deserv'd, and ye will find it highly:</p> + + <p>Make bold use of this benefit, and be + sure</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page322" + id="page322"></a>[pg 322]</span> + + <p>You keep your Sister, (the high-soul'd + Cleopatra)</p> + + <p>Both close and short enough, she may not see + him;</p> + + <p>The rest, if I may counsel, Sir—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Do all;</p> + + <p>For in thy faithful service rests my safety. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENE II.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Septimius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Here's a strange alteration + in the Court;</p> + + <p>Mens Faces are of other setts and motions,</p> + + <p>Their minds of subtler stuff; I pass by now</p> + + <p>As though I were a Rascal, no man knows me,</p> + + <p>No Eye looks after; as I were a Plague</p> + + <p>Their doors shut close against me; and I wondred + at</p> + + <p>Because I have done a meritorious Murther;</p> + + <p>Because I have pleas'd the Time, does the Time + plague me?</p> + + <p>I have known the day they would have hug'd me for + it,</p> + + <p>For a less stroke than this have done me + Reverence;</p> + + <p>Open'd their Hearts and secret Closets to me,</p> + + <p>Their Purses, and their Pleasures, and bid me + wallow.</p> + + <p>I now perceive the great Thieves eat the less,</p> + + <p>And the huge Leviathans of Villany</p> + + <p>Sup up the merits, nay the men and all</p> + + <p>That do them service, and spowt 'em out again</p> + + <p>Into the air, as thin and unregarded</p> + + <p>As drops of Water that are lost i'th' Ocean:</p> + + <p>I was lov'd once for swearing, and for drinking,</p> + + <p>And for other principal Qualities that became + me,</p> + + <p>Now a foolish unthankful Murther has undone me,</p> + + <p>If my Lord <i>Photinus</i> be not merciful</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Photinus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>That set me on; And he comes, now Fortune.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Cæsars unthankfulness a + little stirs me,</p> + + <p>A little frets my bloud; take heed, proud + <i>Roman</i>,</p> + + <p>Provoke me not, stir not mine anger farther;</p> + + <p>I may find out a way unto thy life too,</p> + + <p>(Though arm'd in all thy Victories) and seize + it.</p> + + <p>A Conquerour has a heart, and I may hit it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept</i>. May it please your + Lordship?</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page323" + id="page323"></a>[pg 323]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> O <i>Septimius</i>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Your [Lordship] knows my + wrongs.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Wrongs?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Yes, my Lord,</p> + + <p>How the Captain of the Guard, <i>Achillas</i>, + slights me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Think better of him, he has + much befriended thee,</p> + + <p>Shew'd thee much love in taking the head from + thee.</p> + + <p>The times are alter'd (Souldier) <i>Cæsar's</i> + angry,</p> + + <p>And our design to please him lost and perish'd;</p> + + <p>Be glad thou art unnam'd, 'tis not worth the + owning;</p> + + <p>Yet, that thou maist be useful—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Yes, my Lord,</p> + + <p>I shall be ready.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> For I may employ thee</p> + + <p>To take a rub or two out of my way,</p> + + <p>As time shall serve, say that it be a Brother?</p> + + <p>Or a hard Father?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> 'Tis most necessary,</p> + + <p>A Mother, or a Sister, or whom you please, Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Or to betray a noble + Friend?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> 'Tis all one.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I know thou wilt stir for + Gold.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> 'Tis all my motion.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> There, take that for thy + service, and farewel;</p> + + <p>I have greater business now.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> I am still your own, + Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> One thing I charge thee, see + me no more, <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>Unless I send. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> I shall observe your + hour.</p> + + <p>So, this brings something in the mouth, some + savour;</p> + + <p>This is the Lord I serve, the Power I worship,</p> + + <p>My Friends, Allies, and here lies my Allegiance.</p> + + <p>Let People talk as they please of my rudeness,</p> + + <p>And shun me for my deed; bring but this to 'em,</p> + + <p>(Let me be damn'd for blood) yet still I am + honourable,</p> + + <p>This God creates new tongues, and new + affections;</p> + + <p>And though I had kill'd my Father, give me Gold</p> + + <p>I'll make men swear I have done a pious + Sacrifice;</p> + + <p>Now I will out-brave all; make all my Servants,</p> + + <p>And my brave deed shall be writ in Wine, for + vertuous. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page324" + id="page324"></a>[pg 324]</span> + + <h3>SCENE III.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Keep strong Guards, and with + wary eyes (my friends)</p> + + <p>There is no trusting to these base + <i>Egyptians</i>;</p> + + <p>They that are false to pious benefits,</p> + + <p>And make compell'd necessities their faiths</p> + + <p>Are Traitors to the gods.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> We'll call ashore</p> + + <p>A Legion of the best.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Not a Man, <i>Antony</i>,</p> + + <p>That were to shew our fears, and dim our + greatness:</p> + + <p>No, 'tis enough my Name's ashore.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Too much too,</p> + + <p>A sleeping <i>Cæsar</i> is enough to shake them;</p> + + <p>There are some two or three malicious Rascals</p> + + <p>Train'd up in Villany, besides that + <i>Cerberus</i></p> + + <p>That <i>Roman</i> Dog, that lick'd the blood of + <i>Pompey</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> 'Tis strange, a <i>Roman</i> + Souldier?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> You are cozen'd,</p> + + <p>There be of us as be of all other Nations,</p> + + <p>Villains, and Knaves; 'tis not the name contains + him,</p> + + <p>But the obedience; when that's once forgotten,</p> + + <p>And Duty flung away, then welcome Devil.</p> + + <p><i>Photinus</i> and <i>Achillas</i>, and this + Vermine</p> + + <p>That's now become a natural Crocodile</p> + + <p>Must be with care observ'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> And 'tis well counsel'd</p> + + <p>No Confidence, nor trust—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I'll trust the Sea first,</p> + + <p>When with her hollow murmurs she invites me,</p> + + <p>And clutches in her storms, as politick Lions</p> + + <p>Conceal their Claws; I'll trust the Devil first.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Go to your rests, and follow + your own Wisedoms,</p> + + <p>And leave me to my thoughts: pray no more + complement,</p> + + <p>Once more strong Watches.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> All shall be observ'd, Sir. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> I am dull and heavy, yet I + cannot sleep,</p> + + <p>How happy was I in my lawful Wars,</p> + + <p>In <i>Germany</i>, and <i>Gaul</i>, and + <i>Britanny</i></p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page325" + id="page325"></a>[pg 325]</span> + + <p>When every night with pleasure I set down</p> + + <p>What the day ministred! The sleep came sweetly:</p> + + <p>But since I undertook this home-division,</p> + + <p>This civil War, and past the <i>Rubicon</i>;</p> + + <p>What have I done that speaks an ancient + <i>Roman</i>?</p> + + <p>A good, great man? I have enter'd <i>Rome</i> by + force,</p> + + <p>And on her tender Womb (that gave me life)</p> + + <p>Let my insulting Souldiers rudely trample,</p> + + <p>The dear Veins of my Country I have open'd,</p> + + <p>And sail'd upon the torrents that flow'd from + her,</p> + + <p>The bloody streams that in their confluence</p> + + <p>Carried before 'em thousand desolations;</p> + + <p>I rob'd the Treasury, and at one gripe</p> + + <p>Snatch'd all the wealth, so many worthy triumphs</p> + + <p>Plac'd there as sacred to the Peace of + <i>Rome</i>;</p> + + <p>I raz'd <i>Massilia</i>, in my wanton anger:</p> + + <p><i>Petreius</i> and <i>Afranius</i> I defeated:</p> + + <p><i>Pompey</i> I overthrew: what did that get me?</p> + + <p>The slubber'd Name of an authoriz'd Enemy. [<i>Noise + within.</i></p> + + <p>I hear some Noise; they are the Watches sure.</p> + + <p>What Friends have I ty'd fast by these + ambitions?</p> + + <p><i>Cato</i>, the Lover of his Countries freedom,</p> + + <p>Is now past into <i>Africk</i> to affront me,</p> + + <p><i>Fuba</i> (that kill'd my friend) is up in Arms + too;</p> + + <p>The Sons of <i>Pompey</i> are Masters of the + Sea,</p> + + <p>And from the reliques of their scatter'd + faction,</p> + + <p>A new head's sprung; Say I defeat all these too;</p> + + <p>I come home crown'd an honourable Rebel.</p> + + <p>I hear the Noise still, and it still comes + nearer;</p> + + <p>Are the Guards fast? Who waits there?</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Sceva <i>with a Packet</i>, Cleopatra <i>in + it.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Are ye awake Sir?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> I'th' name of Wonder.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Nay, I am a Porter,</p> + + <p>A strong one too, or else my sides would crack, + Sir,</p> + + <p>And my sins were as weighty, I should scarce walk + with 'em.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> What hast thou there?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Ask them which stay + without,</p> + + <p>And brought it hither, your Presence I deny'd + 'em,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page326" + id="page326"></a>[pg 326]</span> + + <p>And put 'em by; took up the load my self,</p> + + <p>They say 'tis rich, and valu'd at the Kingdome,</p> + + <p>I am sure 'tis heavy; if you like to see it</p> + + <p>You may: if not, I'll give it back.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Stay <i>Sceva</i>,</p> + + <p>I would fain see it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I'll begin to work then;</p> + + <p>No doubt, to flatter ye they have sent ye + something,</p> + + <p>Of a rich value, Jewels, or some rich Treasure;</p> + + <p>May be a Rogue within to do a mischief;</p> + + <p>I pray you stand farther off, if there be + villany,</p> + + <p>Better my danger first; he shall 'scape hard + too,</p> + + <p>Ha! what art thou?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Stand farther off, good + <i>Sceva</i>,</p> + + <p>What heavenly Vision! do I wake or slumber?</p> + + <p>Farther off that hand, Friend.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> What Apparition?</p> + + <p>What Spirit have I rais'd? sure 'tis a Woman,</p> + + <p>She looks like one; now she begins to move too:</p> + + <p>A tempting Devil, o' my life; go off, + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>Bless thy self, off: a Bawd grown in mine old + days?</p> + + <p>Bawdry advanc'd upon my back? 'tis noble:</p> + + <p>Sir, if you be a Souldier come no nearer,</p> + + <p>She is sent to dispossess you of your honour,</p> + + <p>A Spunge, a Spunge to wipe away your Victories:</p> + + <p>And she would be cool'd, Sir, let the Souldiers trim + her!</p> + + <p>They'll give her that she came for, and dispatch + her;</p> + + <p>Be loyal to your self. Thou damned Woman,</p> + + <p>Dost thou come hither with thy flourishes,</p> + + <p>Thy flaunts, and faces to abuse mens manners?</p> + + <p>And am I made the instrument of Bawdry?</p> + + <p>I'll find a Lover for ye, one that shall hug ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Hold, on thy life, and be + more temperate,</p> + + <p>Thou Beast.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Thou Beast?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Could'st thou be so + inhumane,</p> + + <p>So far from noble Men, to draw thy Weapon</p> + + <p>Upon a thing divine?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Divine, or humane,</p> + + <p>They are never better pleas'd, nor more at hearts + ease,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page327" + id="page327"></a>[pg 327]</span> + + <p>Than when we draw with full intent upon 'em.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Move this way (Lady)</p> + + <p>'Pray ye let me speak to ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> And Woman, you had best + stand.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> By the gods,</p> + + <p>But that I see her here, and hope her mortal,</p> + + <p>I should imagine some celestial sweetness,</p> + + <p>The treasure of soft love.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Oh, this sounds mangily,</p> + + <p>Poorly, and scurvily in a Souldiers mouth:</p> + + <p>You had best be troubled with the Tooth-ach too,</p> + + <p>For Lovers ever are, and let your Nose drop</p> + + <p>That your celestial Beauty may befriend ye;</p> + + <p>At these years do you learn to be fantastical?</p> + + <p>After so many bloody fields, a Fool?</p> + + <p>She brings her Bed along too, she'll lose no + time,</p> + + <p>Carries her Litter to lye soft, do you see that?</p> + + <p>Invites ye like a Gamester: note that impudence,</p> + + <p>For shame reflect upon your self, your honour,</p> + + <p>Look back into your noble parts, and blush:</p> + + <p>Let not the dear sweat of the hot + <i>Pharsalia</i>,</p> + + <p>Mingle with base <i>Embraces</i>; am I he</p> + + <p>That have receiv'd so many wounds for + <i>Cæsar</i>?</p> + + <p>Upon my Target groves of darts still growing?</p> + + <p>Have I endur'd all hungers, colds, distresses,</p> + + <p>And (as I had been bred that Iron that arm'd me)</p> + + <p>Stood out all weathers, now to curse my fortune?</p> + + <p>To ban the blood I lost for such a General?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Offend no more: be + gone.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I will, and leave ye,</p> + + <p>Leave ye to womens wars, that will proclaim ye:</p> + + <p>You'l conquer <i>Rome</i> now, and the Capitol</p> + + <p>With Fans, and Looking-glasses, farewel Cæsar.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Now I am private Sir, I dare + speak to ye:</p> + + <p>But thus low first, for as a God I honour ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Lower you'l be anon.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Away.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> And privater,</p> + + <p>For that you covet all. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Tempt me no + farther.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page328" + id="page328"></a>[pg 328]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Contemn me not, because I + kneel thus, <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>I am a Queen, and coheir to this country,</p> + + <p>The Sister to the mighty <i>Ptolomy</i>,</p> + + <p>Yet one distress'd, that flyes unto thy justice,</p> + + <p>One that layes sacred hold on thy protection</p> + + <p>As on an holy Altar, to preserve me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Speak Queen of beauty, and + stand up.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I dare not,</p> + + <p>'Till I have found that favour in thine eyes,</p> + + <p>That godlike great humanity to help me,</p> + + <p>Thus, to thy knees must I grow (sacred + <i>Cæsar</i>,)</p> + + <p>And if it be not in thy will, to right me,</p> + + <p>And raise me like a Queen from my sad ruines,</p> + + <p>If these soft tears cannot sink to thy pity,</p> + + <p>And waken with their murmurs thy compassions;</p> + + <p>Yet for thy nobleness, for vertues sake,</p> + + <p>And if thou beest a man, for despis'd beauty,</p> + + <p>For honourable conquest, which thou doat'st on,</p> + + <p>Let not those cankers of this flourishing + Kingdom,</p> + + <p><i>Photinus</i>, and <i>Achillas</i>, (the one an + Eunuch,</p> + + <p>The other a base bondman) thus raign over me.</p> + + <p>Seize my inheritance, and leave my Brother</p> + + <p>Nothing of what he should be, but the Title,</p> + + <p>As thou art wonder of the world.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Stand up then</p> + + <p>And be a Queen, this hand shall give it to ye,</p> + + <p>Or choose a greater name, worthy my bounty:</p> + + <p>A common love makes Queens: choose to be + worshipped,</p> + + <p>To be divinely great, and I dare promise it;</p> + + <p>A suitor of your sort, and blessed sweetness,</p> + + <p>That hath adventur'd thus to see great + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>Must never be denied, you have found a patron</p> + + <p>That dare not in his private honour suffer</p> + + <p>So great a blemish to the Heaven of beauty:</p> + + <p>The God of love would clap his angry wings,</p> + + <p>And from his singing bow let flye those arrows</p> + + <p>Headed with burning griefs, and pining sorrows,</p> + + <p>Should I neglect your cause, would make me + monstrous,</p> + + <p>To whom and to your service I devote me.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page329" + id="page329"></a>[pg 329]</span> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Sceva. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> He is my conquest now, and + so I'le work him,</p> + + <p>The conquerour of the world will I lead captive.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Still with this woman? + tilting still with Babies?</p> + + <p>As you are honest think the Enemy,</p> + + <p>Some valiant Foe indeed now charging on ye:</p> + + <p>Ready to break your ranks, and fling + these—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Hear me,</p> + + <p>But tell me true, if thou hadst such a treasure,</p> + + <p>(And as thou art a Souldier, do not flatter me)</p> + + <p>Such a bright gem, brought to thee, wouldst thou + not</p> + + <p>Most greedily accept?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Not as an Emperour,</p> + + <p>A man that first should rule himself, then + others;</p> + + <p>As a poor hungry Souldier, I might bite, Sir,</p> + + <p>Yet that's a weakness too: hear me, thou + Tempter:</p> + + <p>And hear thou <i>Cæsar</i> too, for it concerns + thee,</p> + + <p>And if thy flesh be deaf, yet let thine honour,</p> + + <p>The soul of a commander, give ear to me,</p> + + <p>Thou wanton bane of war, thou guilded Lethargy,</p> + + <p>In whose embraces, ease (the rust of Arms)</p> + + <p>And pleasure, (that makes Souldiers poor) + inhabites.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Fye, thou blasphem'st.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I do, when she is a + goddess.</p> + + <p>Thou melter of strong minds, dar'st thou presume</p> + + <p>To smother all his triumphs, with thy vanities,</p> + + <p>And tye him like a slave, to thy proud beauties?</p> + + <p>To thy imperious looks? that Kings have follow'd</p> + + <p>Proud of their chains? have waited on? I shame Sir. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Alas thou art rather mad: + take thy rest <i>Sceva</i>,</p> + + <p>Thy duty makes thee erre, but I forgive thee:</p> + + <p>Go, go I say, shew me no disobedience:</p> + + <p>'Tis well, farewel, the day will break dear + Lady,</p> + + <p>My Souldiers will come in; please you retire,</p> + + <p>And think upon your servant.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Pray you Sir, know me,</p> + + <p>And what I am.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. The greater, I more love + ye,</p> + + <p>And you must know me + too.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page330" + id="page330"></a>[pg 330]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> So far as modesty,</p> + + <p>And majesty gives leave Sir, ye are too violent.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. You are too cold to my + desires.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Swear to me,</p> + + <p>And by your self (for I hold that oath sacred)</p> + + <p>You will right me as a Queen—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. These lips be witness,</p> + + <p>And if I break that oath—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> You make me blush Sir,</p> + + <p>And in that blush interpret me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. I will do,</p> + + <p>Come let's go in, and blush again: this one + word,</p> + + <p>You shall believe.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I must, you are a + conquerour. [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h2><i>Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.</i></h2> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Photinus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Good Sir, but hear.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> No more, you have undone + me,</p> + + <p>That, that I hourly fear'd, is fain upon me,</p> + + <p>And heavily, and deadly.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Hear a remedy.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> A remedy now the disease is + ulcerous?</p> + + <p>And has infected all? your secure negligence</p> + + <p>Has broke through all the hopes I have, and ruin'd + me:</p> + + <p>My Sister is with <i>Cæsar</i>, in his chamber,</p> + + <p>All night she has been with him; and no doubt</p> + + <p>Much to her honour.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Would that were the worst, + Sir,</p> + + <p>That will repair it self: but I fear mainly,</p> + + <p>She has made her peace with <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> 'Tis most likely,</p> + + <p>And what am I then?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> 'Plague upon that Rascal</p> + + <p><i>Apollod[or]us</i>, under whose command,</p> + + <p>Under whose eye—</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Achillas. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Curse on you all, ye are + wretches.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page331" + id="page331"></a>[pg 331]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> 'Twas providently done, + <i>Achillas</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Pardon me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Your guards were rarely wise, + and wondrous watchfull.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> I could not help it, if my + life had lain for't,</p> + + <p>Alas, who would suspect a pack of bedding,</p> + + <p>Or a small Truss of houshold furniture?</p> + + <p>And as they said, for Cæsars use: or who durst</p> + + <p>(Being for his private chamber) seek to stop it?</p> + + <p>I was abus'd.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Achoreus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> 'Tis no hour now for + anger:</p> + + <p>No wisdom to debate with fruitless choler,</p> + + <p>Let us consider timely what we must do,</p> + + <p>Since she is flown to his protection,</p> + + <p>From whom we have no power to sever her,</p> + + <p>Nor force conditions—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Speak (good + <i>Achoreus</i>)</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Let indirect and crooked + counsels vanish,</p> + + <p>And straight, and fair directions—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Speak your mind Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Let us choose <i>Cæsar</i>, + (and endear him to us,)</p> + + <p>An Arbitrator in all differences</p> + + <p>Betwixt you, and your Sister; this is safe now:</p> + + <p>And will shew off, most honourable.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Base,</p> + + <p>Most base and poor; a servile, cold submission:</p> + + <p>Hear me, and pluck your hearts up, like stout + Counsellours,</p> + + <p>Since we are sensible this <i>Cæsar</i> loathes + us,</p> + + <p>And have begun our fortune with great Pompey,</p> + + <p>Be of my mind.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> 'Tis most uncomely + spoken,</p> + + <p>And if I say most bloodily, I lye not:</p> + + <p>The law of hospitality it poysons,</p> + + <p>And calls the Gods in question that dwell in us,</p> + + <p>Be wise O King.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> I will be: go my + counsellour,</p> + + <p>To <i>Cæsar</i> go, and do my humble service:</p> + + <p>To my fair Sister my commends negotiate,</p> + + <p>And here I ratifie what e're thou treat'st + on.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page332" + id="page332"></a>[pg 332]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Crown'd with fair peace, I + go. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> My love go with thee,</p> + + <p>And from my love go you, you cruel vipers:</p> + + <p>You shall know now I am no ward, <i>Photinus</i>. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> This for our service?</p> + + <p>Princes do their pleasures,</p> + + <p>And they that serve obey in all disgraces:</p> + + <p>The lowest we can fall to, is our graves,</p> + + <p>There we shall know no diffrence: heark + <i>Achillas</i>,</p> + + <p>I may do something yet, when times are ripe,</p> + + <p>To tell this raw unthankful! King.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> <i>Photinus</i>,</p> + + <p>What e're it be I shall make one: and zealously:</p> + + <p>For better dye attempting something nobly,</p> + + <p>Than fall disgraced.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Thou lov'st me and I thank + thee. [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENA II.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Antony, Dolabella, Sceva. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Nay there's no rowsing him: + he is bewitch'd sure,</p> + + <p>His noble blood curdled, and cold within him;</p> + + <p>Grown now a womans warriour.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> And a tall one:</p> + + <p>Studies her fortifications, and her breaches,</p> + + <p>And how he may advance his ram to batter</p> + + <p>The Bullwork of her chastitie.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Be not too angry,</p> + + <p>For by this light, the woman's a rare woman,</p> + + <p>A Lady of that catching youth, and beauty,</p> + + <p>That unmatch'd sweetness—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> But why should he be fool'd + so?</p> + + <p>Let her be what she will, why should his wisdom,</p> + + <p>His age, and honour—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Say it were your own + case,</p> + + <p>Or mine, or any mans, that has heat in him:</p> + + <p>'Tis true at this time when he has no promise</p> + + <p>Of more security than his sword can cut through,</p> + + <p>I do not hold it so discreet: but a good face, + Gentlemen,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page333" + id="page333"></a>[pg 333]</span> + + <p>And eyes that are the winningst Orators:</p> + + <p>A youth that opens like perpetual spring,</p> + + <p>And to all these, a tongue that can deliver</p> + + <p>The Oracles of Love—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I would you had her,</p> + + <p>With all her Oracles, and Miracles,</p> + + <p>She were fitter for your turn.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Would I had, + <i>Sceva</i>,</p> + + <p>With all her faults too: let me alone to mend + 'em,</p> + + <p>O'that condition I made thee mine heir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I had rather have your black + horse, than your harlots.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> <i>Cæsar</i> writes + <i>Sonnetts</i> now, the sound of war</p> + + <p>Is grown too boystrous for his mouth: he sighs + too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> And learns to fiddle most + melodiously,</p> + + <p>And sings, 'twould make your ears prick up, to hear + him Gent.</p> + + <p>Shortly she'l make him spin: and 'tis thought</p> + + <p>He will prove an admirable maker of Bonelace,</p> + + <p>And what a rare gift will that be in a General!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> I would he could abstain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> She is a witch sure,</p> + + <p>And works upon him with some damn'd inchantment.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> How cunning she will carry + her behaviours,</p> + + <p>And set her countenance in a thousand postures,</p> + + <p>To catch her ends!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> She will be sick, well, + sullen,</p> + + <p>Merry, coy, over-joy'd, and seem to dye</p> + + <p>All in one half hour, to make an asse of him:</p> + + <p>I make no doubt she will be drunk too damnably,</p> + + <p>And in her drink will fight, then she fits him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> That thou shouldst bring her + in!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> 'Twas my blind fortune,</p> + + <p>My Souldiers told me, by the weight 'twas + wicked:</p> + + <p>Would I had carried <i>Milo's</i> Bull a + furlong,</p> + + <p>When I brought in this Cow-Calf: he has advanced + me</p> + + <p>From an old Souldier, to a bawd of memory:</p> + + <p>O, that the Sons of <i>Pompey</i> were behind + him,</p> + + <p>The honour'd <i>Cato</i>, and fierce <i>Juba</i> + with 'em,</p> + + <p>That they might whip him from his whore, and rowze + him:</p> + + <p>That their fierce Trumpets, from his wanton + trances,</p> + + <p>Might shake him like an Earth-quake.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page334" + id="page334"></a>[pg 334]</span> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Septimius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> What's this fellow?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Why, a brave fellow, if we + judge men by their clothes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> By my faith he is brave + indeed: he's no commander?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Yes, he has a <i>Roman</i> + face, he has been at fair wars</p> + + <p>And plenteous too, and rich, his Trappings shew + it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> And they will not know me + now, they'l never know me.</p> + + <p>Who dare blush now at my acquaintance? ha?</p> + + <p>Am I not totally a span-new Gallant,</p> + + <p>Fit for the choycest eyes? have I not gold?</p> + + <p>The friendship of the world? if they shun me now</p> + + <p>(Though I were the arrantest rogue, as I am well + forward)</p> + + <p>Mine own curse, and the Devils too light on me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Is't not + <i>Septimius</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Yes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> He that kill'd + <i>Pompey</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> The same Dog, Scab; that + guilded botch, that rascal.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> How glorious villany appears + in <i>Egypt</i>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Gallants, and Souldiers, sure + they do admire me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Stand further off, thou + stinkest.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> A likely matter:</p> + + <p>These Cloaths smell mustily, do they not, + Gallants?</p> + + <p>They stink, they stink, alas poor things, + contemptible.</p> + + <p>By all the Gods in <i>Egypt</i>, the perfumes</p> + + <p>That went to trimming these cloathes, cost + me—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Thou stinkest still.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> The powdering of this head + too—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> If thou hast it,</p> + + <p>I'le tell thee all the Gumms in sweet + <i>Arabia</i></p> + + <p>Are not sufficient, were they burnt about thee,</p> + + <p>To purge the scent of a rank Rascal from thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> I smell him now: fie, how the + Knave perfumes him,</p> + + <p>How strong he scents of Traitor!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> You had an ill Millener,</p> + + <p>He laid too much of the Gum of Ingratitude</p> + + <p>Upon your Coat, you should have washt off that + Sir,</p> + + <p>Fie, how it choaks! too little of your loyaltie,</p> + + <p>Your honesty, your faith, that are pure Ambers;</p> + + <p>I smell the rotten smell of a hired + Coward,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page335" + id="page335"></a>[pg 335]</span> + + <p>A dead Dog is sweeter.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Ye are merry Gentlemen,</p> + + <p>And by my troth, such harmless mirth takes me + too,</p> + + <p>You speak like good blunt Souldiers; and 'tis well + enough:</p> + + <p>But did you live at Court, as I do, Gallants,</p> + + <p>You would refine, and learn an apter language;</p> + + <p>I have done ye simple service on your + <i>Pompey</i>,</p> + + <p>You might have lookt him yet this brace of twelve + months</p> + + <p>And hunted after him, like foundred Beagles,</p> + + <p>Had not this fortunate hand—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> He brags on't too:</p> + + <p>By the good Gods, rejoyces in't; thou wretch</p> + + <p>Thou most contemptible Slave.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Dog, mangy Mongrel,</p> + + <p>Thou murdring mischief, in the shape of Souldier</p> + + <p>To make all Souldiers hatefull; thou disease</p> + + <p>That nothing but the Gallows can give ease + to.—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Thou art so impudent, that I + admire thee,</p> + + <p>And know not what to say.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I know your anger</p> + + <p>And why you prate thus: I have found your + melancholy:</p> + + <p>Ye all want mony, and you are liberal Captains,</p> + + <p>And in this want will talk a little desperately:</p> + + <p>Here's gold, come share; I love a brave + Commander:</p> + + <p>And be not peevish, do as <i>Cæsar</i> does:</p> + + <p>He's merry with his wench now, be you jovial,</p> + + <p>And let's all laugh and drink: would he have + partners?</p> + + <p>I do consider all your wants, and weigh 'em,</p> + + <p>He has the Mistris, you shall have the maids,</p> + + <p>I'le bring 'em to ye, to your arms.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> I blush,</p> + + <p>All over me, I blush, and sweat to hear him:</p> + + <p>Upon my conscience, if my arms were on now</p> + + <p>Through them I should blush too: pray ye let's be + walking.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Yes, yes: but e're we goe, + I'le leave this lesson,</p> + + <p>And let him study it: first Rogue, then Pander,</p> + + <p>Next Devil that will be; get thee from mens + presence,</p> + + <p>And where the name of Souldier has been heard of</p> + + <p>Be sure thou live not: to some hungry desert</p> + + <p>Where thou canst meet with nothing but thy + conscience,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page336" + id="page336"></a>[pg 336]</span> + + <p>And that in all the shapes of all thy + vill[anie]s</p> + + <p>Attend thee still, where bruit Beasts will abhor + thee,</p> + + <p>And even the Sun will shame to give thee light,</p> + + <p>Goe hide thy head: or if thou think'st it fitter</p> + + <p>Goe hang thy self.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Hark to that clause.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> And that speedily,</p> + + <p>That nature may be eas'd of such a Monster. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Yet all this moves not me: + nor reflects on me:</p> + + <p>I keep my gold still, and my confidence,</p> + + <p>Their want of breeding makes these fellows + murmur,</p> + + <p>Rude valors, so I let 'em pass; rude honours:</p> + + <p>There is a wench yet, that I know, affects me</p> + + <p>And company for a King: a young plump villain,</p> + + <p>That when she sees this gold, she'l leap upon + me.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Eros. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And here she comes: I am sure of her at + midnight,</p> + + <p>My pretty <i>Eros</i> welcom.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. I have business.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Above my love, thou canst + not.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. Yes indeed Sir,</p> + + <p>Far, far above.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Why, why so coy? 'pray ye + tell me</p> + + <p>We are alone.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. I am much asham'd we are + so.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> You want a new Gown now, + & a handsom Petticoat,</p> + + <p>A Skarf, and some odd toyes: I have gold here + ready,</p> + + <p>Thou shal[t] have any thing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. I want your absence:</p> + + <p>Keep on your way, I care not for your company.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> How? how? you are very short: + do you know me <i>Eros</i>?</p> + + <p>And what I have been to ye?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. Yes I know ye:</p> + + <p>And I hope I shall forget ye: Whilst you were + honest</p> + + <p>I lov'd ye too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Honest? come prethee kiss + me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. I kiss no knaves, no + Murderers, no Beasts,</p> + + <p>No base betrayers of those men that fed 'em,</p> + + <p>I hate their looks; and though I may be + wanton,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page337" + id="page337"></a>[pg 337]</span> + + <p>I scorn to nourish it with bloody purchase,</p> + + <p>Purchase so foully got; I pray ye unhand me</p> + + <p>I had rather touch the plague, than one + unworthy:</p> + + <p>Goe seek some Mistris that a horse may marry,</p> + + <p>And keep her company, she is too good for ye. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Marry this goes near; now I + perceive I am hatefull,</p> + + <p>When this light stuff can distinguish, it grows + dangerous,</p> + + <p>For mony, seldom they refuse a Leper:</p> + + <p>But sure I am more odious, more diseas'd too:</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter three lame</i> Souldiers. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It sits cold here; what are these? three poor + Souldiers?</p> + + <p>Both poor and lame: their misery may make 'em</p> + + <p>A little look upon me, and adore me,</p> + + <p>If these will keep me company, I am made yet.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> The pleasure <i>Cæsar</i> + sleeps in, makes us miserable,</p> + + <p>We are forgot, our maims and dangers laugh'd at;</p> + + <p>He Banquets, and we beg.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> He was not wont</p> + + <p>To let poor Souldiers that have spent their + Fortunes,</p> + + <p>Their Bloods, and limbs, walk up and down like + vagabonds.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Save ye good Souldiers: good + poor men, heaven help ye:</p> + + <p>You have born the brunt of war, and shew the + story,</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> Some new commander + sure.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> You look (my good + friends)</p> + + <p>By your thin faces, as you would be Suitors.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> To <i>Cæsar</i>, for our + means, Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> And 'tis fit Sir.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sol.</i> We are poor men, and long + forgot.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I grieve for it:</p> + + <p>Good Souldiers should have good rewards, and + favours,</p> + + <p>I'le give up your petitions, for I pity ye,</p> + + <p>And freely speak to <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>All</i>. O we honour ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> A good man sure ye are: the + Gods preserve ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> And to relieve your wants the + while, hold Soldiers,</p> + + <p>Nay 'tis no dream: 'tis good gold: take it + freely,</p> + + <p>'Twill keep ye in good heart.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> Now goodness quit ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I'le be a friend to your + afflictions,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page338" + id="page338"></a>[pg 338]</span> + + <p>And eat, and drink with ye too, and we'l be + merry:</p> + + <p>And every day I'le see ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> You are a Souldier,</p> + + <p>And one sent from the Gods, I think.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I'le cloth ye,</p> + + <p>Ye are lame, and then provide good lodging for + ye:</p> + + <p>And at my Table, where no want shall meet ye.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Sceva. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>All</i>. Was never such a man.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> Dear honour'd Sir,</p> + + <p>Let us but know your name, that we may worship + ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> That we may ever + thank.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Why, call me any thing,</p> + + <p>No matter for my name, that may betray me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> A cunning thief, call him + <i>Septimius</i>, Souldiers,</p> + + <p>The villain that kill'd <i>Pompey</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>All</i>. How?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Call him the shame of men. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> O that this mony</p> + + <p>Were weight enough to break thy brains out: fling + all:</p> + + <p>And fling our curses next: let them be mortal,</p> + + <p>Out bloody wolf, dost thou come guilded over,</p> + + <p>And painted with thy charitie, to poyson us?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> I know him now: may never + Father own thee,</p> + + <p>But as a monstrous birth shun thy base memory:</p> + + <p>And if thou hadst a Mother (as I cannot</p> + + <p>Believe thou wert a natural Burden) let her womb</p> + + <p>Be curs'd of women for a bed of vipers.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sol.</i> Me thinks the ground shakes + to devour this rascal,</p> + + <p>And the kind air turns into foggs and vapours,</p> + + <p>Infectious mists, to crown his villanies.</p> + + <p>Thou maist go wander, like a thing heaven hated.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> And valiant minds hold + poysonous to remember.</p> + + <p>The Hangman will not keep thee company,</p> + + <p>He has an honourable house to thine,</p> + + <p>No, not a thief though thou couldst save his life + for't</p> + + <p>Will eat thy bread, nor one, for thirst starv'd, + drink with thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> Thou art no company for an + honest dog,</p> + + <p>And so we'l leave thee to a ditch (thy destiny.) + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page339" + id="page339"></a>[pg 339]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Contemn'd of all? and kickt + too? now I find it;</p> + + <p>My valour's fled too, with mine honesty,</p> + + <p>For since I would be knave I must be Coward:</p> + + <p>This 'tis to be a Traitor, and betrayer.</p> + + <p>What a deformity dwells round about me!</p> + + <p>How monstrous shews that man, that is + ungratefull!</p> + + <p>I am afraid the very beasts will tear me,</p> + + <p>Inspir'd with what I have done: the winds will blast + me:</p> + + <p>Now I am paid, and my reward dwells in me,</p> + + <p>The wages of my fact, my soul's opprest;</p> + + <p>Honest and noble minds, you find most rest. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENA III.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus, Achillas. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> I have commanded, and it + shall be so,</p> + + <p>A preparation I have set o' foot,</p> + + <p>Worthy the friendship and the fame of + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>My Sisters favours shall seem poor and wither'd:</p> + + <p>Nay she her self, (trim'd up in all her beautys)</p> + + <p>Compar'd to what I'le take his eyes withall,</p> + + <p>Shall be a dream.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Do you mean to shew the + glory,</p> + + <p>And wealth of <i>Egypt</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Yes: and in that lustre,</p> + + <p><i>Rome</i> shall appear in all her famous + Conquests,</p> + + <p>And all her riches of no note unto it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Now you are reconcil'd to + your fair Sister,</p> + + <p>Take heed Sir, how you step into a danger:</p> + + <p>A danger of this precipice: but note Sir,</p> + + <p>For what <i>Rome</i> ever rais'd her mighty + armies;</p> + + <p>First for ambition, then for wealth: 'tis + madness,</p> + + <p>Nay more, a secure impotence, to tempt</p> + + <p>An armed Guest: feed not an eye, that conquers,</p> + + <p>Nor teach a fortunate sword the way to be + covetous.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Ye judge amiss, and far too + wide to alter me,</p> + + <p>Yet all be ready, as I gave direction:</p> + + <p>The secret way of all our wealth appearing</p> + + <p>Newly, and handsomely: and all about it:</p> + + <p>No more disswading: 'tis my + will.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page340" + id="page340"></a>[pg 340]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> I grieve for't.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> I will dazel <i>Cæsar</i>, + with excess of glory.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I fear you'l curse your will, + we must obey ye. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENA IV.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva, <i>above.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. I wonder at the glory of + this Kingdom,</p> + + <p>And the most bounteous preparation,</p> + + <p>Still as I pass, they court me with.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sceva</i>. I'le tell ye:</p> + + <p>In <i>Gaul</i>, and <i>Germany</i>, we saw such + visions,</p> + + <p>And stood not to admire 'em, but possess 'em:</p> + + <p>When they are ours, they are worth our + admiration.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cleopatra. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> The young Queen comes: give + room.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Welcom (my dearest)</p> + + <p>Come bless my side.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sceva</i>. I marry: here's a + wonder,</p> + + <p>As she appears now, I am no true Souldier,</p> + + <p>If I be not readie to recant.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Be merry Sir,</p> + + <p>My Brother will be proud to do you honour</p> + + <p>That now appears himself.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Achoreus, Achillas, Photinus, + Apollodorus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pto.</i> Haile to great + <i>Cæsar</i></p> + + <p>My Royal Guest, first I will feast thine eyes</p> + + <p>With wealthy <i>Ægypts</i> store, and then thy + palate,</p> + + <p>And wait my self upon thee. [<i>Treasure brought + in.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. What rich Service!</p> + + <p>What mines of treasure!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> My <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>What do you admire? pray ye turn, and let me talk to + ye.</p> + + <p>Have ye forgot me Sir? how, a new object?</p> + + <p>Am I grown old o'th' sudden, <i>Cæsar</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Tell me</p> + + <p>From whence comes all this wealth?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Is your eye that + way?</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page341" + id="page341"></a>[pg 341]</span> + + <p>And all my Beauties banisht?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> I'le tell thee + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>We owe for all this wealth to the old + <i>Nilus</i>:</p> + + <p>We need no dropping rain to cheer the + husband-man,</p> + + <p>Nor Merchant that ploughs up the Sea, to seek + us;</p> + + <p>Within the wealthy womb of reverent + <i>Nilus</i>,</p> + + <p>All this is nourish'd: who to do thee honour,</p> + + <p>Comes to discover his seven Deities,</p> + + <p>(His conceal'd heads) unto thee: see with + pleasure.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. The matchless wealth of + this Land!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Come, ye shall hear me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Away: let me imagine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> How? frown on me?</p> + + <p>The eyes of <i>Cæsar</i> wrapt in storms?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. I am sorry:</p> + + <p>But let me think—</p> + </div> + </div> + + <h4><i>Mustek, SONG.</i></h4> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Isis, <i>and three Labourers.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Isis, the Goddess of this + Land,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bids thee (great Cæsar) + understand</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And mark our Customes, and first + know,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>With greedy eyes these watch the + flow</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Of plenteous Nilus: when he + comes,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>With Songs, with Daunces, Timbrels, + Drums</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>They entertain him, cut his + way,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And give his proud Heads leave to + play:</i></p> + + <p class="i4"><i>Nilus himself shall rise, and + show</i></p> + + <p class="i4"><i>His matchless wealth in + Over-flow.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h4><i>Labourers SONG.</i></h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Come let us help the reverend + Nile,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>He's very old (alas the while)</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Let us dig him easie wayes,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And prepare a thousand Playes:</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>To delight his streams let's + sing</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>A loud welcom to our Spring.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>This way let his curling Heads</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Fall into our new made + Beds.</i></p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page342" + id="page342"></a>[pg 342]</span> + + <p class="i2"><i>This way let his wanton + spawns,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Frisky and glide it o're the + Lawns.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>This way profit comes, and + gain:</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>How he tumbles here amain!</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>How his waters haste to fall</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Into our Channels! Labour all</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And let him in: Let Nilus + flow,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And perpetuall plenty show.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>With Incense let us bless the + brim,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And as the wanton fishes swim,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Let us Gums, and Garlands + fling,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And loud our Timbrels ring.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Come (old Father) come away,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Our labour is our holy day.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Isis. <i>Here comes the aged River + now</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>With Garlands of great Pearl, his + Brow</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begirt and rounded: In his + Flow</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>All things take life; and all things + grow.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>A thousand wealthy Treasures + still,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>To do him service at his will</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Follow his rising Flood, and + pour</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Perpetuall blessings in our + store.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Hear him: and next there will + advance,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>His sacred Heads to tread a + Dance,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>In honour of my Royal Guest,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Mark them too: and you have a + Feast.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> A little dross betray + me?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. I am asham'd I warr'd at + home, (my friends)</p> + + <p>When such wealth may be got abroad: what honour?</p> + + <p>Nay everlasting glory had <i>Rome</i> purchas'd,</p> + + <p>Had she a just cause but to visit <i>Ægypt</i>?</p> + </div> + </div> + + <h4><i>Nilus</i> SONG, <i>and Dance.</i></h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Make room for my rich waters fall, and + bless my Flood,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Nilus comes flowing, to you all + encrease and good.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Now the Plants and Flowers shall + spring,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And the merry Plough-man + sing</i></p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page343" + id="page343"></a>[pg 343]</span> + + <p class="i2"><i>In my bidden waves I bring</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bread, and wine, and every + thing.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Let the Damsells sing me in:</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Sing aloud that I may rise:</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Your holy Feasts and hours + begin,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And each hand bring a + Sacrifice.</i></p> + + <p class="i4"><i>Now my wanton Pearls I show</i></p> + + <p class="i4"><i>That to Ladies fair necks + grow.</i></p> + + <p class="i8"><i>Now my gold</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And treasures that can ne're be + told,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Shall bless this Land, by my rich + Flow,</i></p> + + <p class="i4"><i>And after this, to crown your + Eyes,</i></p> + + <p class="i4"><i>My hidden holy head arise.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. The wonder of this wealth + so troubles me,</p> + + <p>I am not well: good-night.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> I am glad ye have it:</p> + + <p>Now we shall stir again.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Thou wealth, still haunt + him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> A greedy spirit set thee on: + we are happy.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Lights: lights for + <i>Cæsar</i>, and attendance.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Well,</p> + + <p>I shall yet find a time to tell thee + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>Thou hast wrong'd her Love: the rest here.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Lights along still:</p> + + <p>Musick, and Sacrifice to sleep for <i>Cæsar</i>. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h2><i>Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.</i></h2> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Photinus, Achillas, Achoreus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> I told ye carefully, what + this would prove to,</p> + + <p>What this inestimable wealth and glory</p> + + <p>Would draw upon ye: I advis'd your Majesty</p> + + <p>Never to tempt a Conquering Guest: nor add</p> + + <p>A bait, to catch a mind, bent by his Trade</p> + + <p>To make the whole world his.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I was not heard Sir:</p> + + <p>Or what I said, lost, and contemn'd: I dare say,</p> + + <p>(And freshly now) 'twas a poor weakness in ye,</p> + + <p>A glorious Childishness: I watch'd his + eye,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page344" + id="page344"></a>[pg 344]</span> + + <p>And saw how Faulcon-like it towr'd, and flew</p> + + <p>Upon the wealthy Quarry: how round it mark'd it:</p> + + <p>I observ'd his words, and to what it tended;</p> + + <p>How greedily he ask'd from whence it came,</p> + + <p>And what Commerce we held for such abundance:</p> + + <p>The shew of <i>Nilus</i>, how he laboured at</p> + + <p>To find the secret wayes the Song delivered.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> He never smil'd, I noted, at + the pleasures,</p> + + <p>But fixt his constant eyes upon the treasure;</p> + + <p>I do not think his ears had so much leisure</p> + + <p>After the wealth appear'd, to hear the Musique?</p> + + <p>Most sure he has not slept since, his mind's + troubled</p> + + <p>With objects that would make their own still + labour.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Your Sister he ne're gaz'd + on: that's a main note,</p> + + <p>The prime beauty of the world had no power over + him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> Where was his mind the + whilst?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Where was your + carefulness</p> + + <p>To shew an armed thief the way to rob ye?</p> + + <p>Nay, would you give him this, 'twill excite him</p> + + <p>To seek the rest. Ambition feels no gift,</p> + + <p>Nor knows no bounds, indeed ye have done most + weakly.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Can I be too kind to my + noble friend?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> To be unkind unto your noble + self, but savours</p> + + <p>Of indiscretion, and your friend has found it.</p> + + <p>Had ye been train'd up in the wants and miseries</p> + + <p>A souldier marches through, and known his + temperance</p> + + <p>In offer'd courtesies, you would have made</p> + + <p>A wiser Master of your own, and stronger.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Why, should I give him all, + he would return it:</p> + + <p>'Tis more to him, to make Kings.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Pray be wiser,</p> + + <p>And trust not with your lost wealth, your lov'd + liberty.</p> + + <p>To be a King still at your own discretion</p> + + <p>Is like a King; to be at his, a vassail.</p> + + <p>Now take good counsel, or no more take to ye</p> + + <p>The freedom of a Prince.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> 'Twill be too late + else:</p> + + <p>For, since the Masque, he sent three of his + Captains</p> + + <p>(Ambitious as himself) to view again</p> + + <p>The glory of your + wealth.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page345" + id="page345"></a>[pg 345]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> The next himself comes,</p> + + <p>Not staying for your courtesie, and takes it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> What counsel, my + <i>Achoreus</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> I'le goe pray Sir,</p> + + <p>(For that is best counsel now) the gods may help ye. + [<i>Ex.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I found ye out a way but + 'twas not credited,</p> + + <p>A most secure way: whither will ye flye now?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> For when your wealth is + gone, your power must follow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> And that diminisht also, + what's your life worth?</p> + + <p>Who would regard it?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> You say true.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> What eye</p> + + <p>Will look upon King <i>Ptolomy</i>? if they do + look,</p> + + <p>It must be in scorn:</p> + + <p>For a poor King is a monster;</p> + + <p>What ear remember ye? 'twill be then a courtesie</p> + + <p>(A noble one) to take your life too from ye:</p> + + <p>But if reserv'd, you stand to fill a victory,</p> + + <p>As who knows Conquerours minds? though outwardly</p> + + <p>They bear fair streams.</p> + + <p>O Sir, does this not shake ye?</p> + + <p>If to be honyed on to these afflictions—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> I never will: I was a + Fool.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> For then Sir</p> + + <p>Your Countreys cause falls with ye too, and + fetter'd:</p> + + <p>All <i>Ægypt</i> shall be plough'd up with + dishonour.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> No more: I am sensible: and + now my spirit</p> + + <p>Burns hot within me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Keep it warm and fiery.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> And last be counsel'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> I will, though I perish.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Goe in; we'l tell you all: + and then we'l execute.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + [<i>Exeunt.</i> + </center> + + <h3>SCENA II.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cleopatra, Arsino, Eros. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> You are so impatient.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Have I not cause?</p> + + <p>Women of common Beauties, and low + Births,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page346" + id="page346"></a>[pg 346]</span> + + <p>When they are slighted, are allow'd their + angers,</p> + + <p>Why should not I (a Princess) make him know</p> + + <p>The baseness of his usage?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Yes: 'tis fit:</p> + + <p>But then again you know what man.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> He is no man:</p> + + <p>The shadow of a Greatness hangs upon him,</p> + + <p>And not the vertue: he is no Conquerour,</p> + + <p>H'as suffer'd under the base dross of Nature:</p> + + <p>Poorly delivered up his power to wealth,</p> + + <p>(The god of bed-rid men) taught his eyes treason</p> + + <p>Against the truth of love: he has rais'd + rebellion:</p> + + <p>Defi'd his holy flames.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros.</i> He will fall back again,</p> + + <p>And satisfie your Grace.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Had I been old,</p> + + <p>Or blasted in my bud, he might have shew'd</p> + + <p>Some shadow of dislike: But, to prefer</p> + + <p>The lustre of a little art, <i>Arsino</i>,</p> + + <p>And the poor glow-worm light of some faint + Jewels,</p> + + <p>Before the life of Love, and soul of Beauty,</p> + + <p>Oh how it vexes me! he is no Souldier,</p> + + <p>(All honourable Souldiers are Loves servants)</p> + + <p>He is a Merchant; a meer wandring Merchant,</p> + + <p>Servile to gain: he trades for poor Commodities,</p> + + <p>And makes his Conquests, thefts; some fortunate + Captains</p> + + <p>That quarter with him, and are truly valiant,</p> + + <p>Have flung the name of happy <i>Cæsar</i> on + him,</p> + + <p>Himself ne're won it: he is so base and + covetous,</p> + + <p>He'l sell his sword for gold.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> This is too bitter.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Oh I could curse my self, + that was so foolish,</p> + + <p>So fondly childish to believe his tongue,</p> + + <p>His promising tongue, e're I could catch his + temper,</p> + + <p>I had trash enough to have cloy'd his eyes + withal,</p> + + <p>His covetous eyes; such as I scorn to tread on:</p> + + <p>Richer than e're he saw yet, and more tempting;</p> + + <p>Had I known he had stoop'd at that, I had sav'd mine + honour,</p> + + <p>I had been happy still: but let him take it,</p> + + <p>And let him brag how poorly I am + rewarded:</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page347" + id="page347"></a>[pg 347]</span> + + <p>Let him goe conquer still weak wretched Ladies:</p> + + <p>Love has his angry Quiver too, his deadly,</p> + + <p>And when he finds scorn, armed at the strongest:</p> + + <p>I am a fool to fret thus, for a fool:</p> + + <p>An old blind fool too: I lose my health? I will + not:</p> + + <p>I will not cry: I will not honour him</p> + + <p>With tears diviner than the gods he worships:</p> + + <p>I will not take the pains to curse a poor thing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. Doe not: you shall not + need.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Would I were prisoner</p> + + <p>To one I hate, that I might anger him,</p> + + <p>I will love any man, to break the heart of him:</p> + + <p>Any, that has the heart and will to kill him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Take some fair truce.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I will goe study + mischief,</p> + + <p>And put a look on, arm'd with all my cunnings,</p> + + <p>Shall meet him like a Basilisque, and strike + him:</p> + + <p>Love, put destroying flames into mine eyes,</p> + + <p>Into my smiles, deceits, that I may torture him,</p> + + <p>That I may make him love to death, and laugh at + him.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Apollodorus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> <i>Cæsar</i> commends his + Service to your Grace.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> His service? what's his + service?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. Pray ye be patient,</p> + + <p>The noble <i>Cæsar</i> loves still.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> What's his will?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> He craves access unto your + Highness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> No:</p> + + <p>Say no: I will have none to trouble me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Good Sister.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> None I say: I will be + private.</p> + + <p>Would thou hadst flung me into <i>Nilus</i>, + keeper,</p> + + <p>When first thou gav'st consent, to bring my body</p> + + <p>To this unthankfull <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> 'Twas your will, Madam,</p> + + <p>Nay more, your charge upon me, as I honoured ye:</p> + + <p>You know what danger I endured.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Take this,</p> + + <p>And carry it to that Lordly <i>Cæsar</i> sent + thee:</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page348" + id="page348"></a>[pg 348]</span> + + <p>There's a new Love, a handsom one, a rich one:</p> + + <p>One that will hug his mind: bid him make love to + it:</p> + + <p>Tell the ambitious Broker, this will + suffer—</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter Cæsar.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ap.</i> He enters.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> How?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> I do not use to wait, + Lady,</p> + + <p>Where I am, all the dores are free, and open.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I ghess so, by your + rudeness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> Ye are not angry?</p> + + <p>Things of your tender mold, should be most + gentle;</p> + + <p>Why do you frown? good gods, what a set-anger</p> + + <p>Have you forc'd into your face! Come, I must temper + ye:</p> + + <p>What a coy smile was there, and a disdainfull!</p> + + <p>How like an ominous flash it broke out from ye!</p> + + <p>Defend me, Love, Sweet, who has anger'd ye?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Shew him a glass; that false + face has betrai'd me:</p> + + <p>That base heart wrought me—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> Be more sweetly angry;</p> + + <p>I wrong'd ye fair?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Away with your foul + flatteries:</p> + + <p>They are too gross: but that I dare be angry,</p> + + <p>And with as great a god as <i>Cæsar</i> is,</p> + + <p>To shew how poorly I respect his memory,</p> + + <p>I would not speak to ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> Pray ye undoe this + riddle,</p> + + <p>And tell me how I have vext ye?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Let me think first</p> + + <p>Whether I may put on a Patience</p> + + <p>That will with honour suffer me: know, I hate + ye,</p> + + <p>Let that begin the story: Now I'le tell ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> But do it milder: In a + noble Lady,</p> + + <p>Softness of spirit, and a sober nature,</p> + + <p>That moves like summer winds, cool, and blows + sweetness;</p> + + <p>Shews blessed like her self.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> And that great + blessedness</p> + + <p>You first reap'd of me: till you taught my + nature</p> + + <p>Like a rude storm to talk aloud, and thunder,</p> + + <p>Sleep was not gentler than my soul, and + stiller;</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page349" + id="page349"></a>[pg 349]</span> + + <p>You had the Spring of my affections:</p> + + <p>And my fair fruits I gave you leave to taste of:</p> + + <p>You must expect: the winter of mine anger:</p> + + <p>You flung me off, before the Court disgrac'd me,</p> + + <p>When in the pride I appear'd of all my beauty,</p> + + <p>Appear'd your <i>Mistress</i>; took into your + eyes</p> + + <p>The common-strumpet love of hated lucre,</p> + + <p>Courted with covetous heart, the slave of + nature,</p> + + <p>Gave all your thoughts to gold, that men of + glory,</p> + + <p>And minds adorn'd with noble love, would kick + at:</p> + + <p>Souldiers of royal mark, scorn such base + purchase:</p> + + <p>Beauty and honour are the marks they shoot at;</p> + + <p>I spake to ye then; I courted ye, and woo'd ye:</p> + + <p>Call'd ye dear <i>Cæsar</i>, hung about ye + tenderly:</p> + + <p>Was proud to appear your friend.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar.</i> You have mistaken me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> But neither Eye, nor Favour, + not a Smile</p> + + <p>Was I blessed back with; but shook off rudely,</p> + + <p>And, as ye had been sold to sordid infamy,</p> + + <p>You fell before the Images of treasure,</p> + + <p>And in your soul you worship'd: I stood + slighted,</p> + + <p>Forgotten and contemn'd; my soft embraces,</p> + + <p>And those sweet kisses you call'd Elyzium,</p> + + <p>As letters writ in sand, no more remembred:</p> + + <p>The name and glory of your <i>Cleopatra</i></p> + + <p>Laugh'd at, and made a story to your Captains,</p> + + <p>Shall I endure?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. You are deceiv'd in all + this,</p> + + <p>Upon my life you are, 'tis your much tenderness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> No, no, I love not that way; + you are cozen'd:</p> + + <p>I love with as much ambition as a Conquerour,</p> + + <p>And where I love, will triumph.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. So you shall:</p> + + <p>My heart shall be the Chariot that shall bear + ye,</p> + + <p>All I have won shall wait upon ye: By the gods</p> + + <p>The bravery of this womans mind, has fired me:</p> + + <p>Dear Mistress shall I but this night?—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> How <i>Cæsar</i>?</p> + + <p>Have I let slip a second vanity</p> + + <p>That gives thee + hope?</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page350" + id="page350"></a>[pg 350]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. You shall be absolute,</p> + + <p>And Reign alone as Queen: you shall be any + thing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Make me a maid again, and + then I'le hear thee;</p> + + <p>Examine all thy art of War, to do that;</p> + + <p>And if thou find'st it possible, I'le love thee:</p> + + <p>Till when, farewel, unthankfull.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Stay.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I will not.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. I command.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Command, and goe without, + Sir.</p> + + <p>I do command thee be my slave for ever,</p> + + <p>And vex while I laugh at thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Thus low, beauty.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> It is too late; when I have + found thee absolute,</p> + + <p>The man that Fame reports thee, and to me,</p> + + <p>May be I shall think better. Farewel Conquerour. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. She mocks me too: I will + enjoy her Beauty:</p> + + <p>I will not be deni'd; I'le force my longing.</p> + + <p>Love is best pleas'd, when roundly we compel + him,</p> + + <p>And as he is Imperious, so will I be.</p> + + <p>Stay fool, and be advis'd: that dulls the + appetite,</p> + + <p>Takes off the strength and sweetness of delight.</p> + + <p>By Heaven she is a miracle, I must use</p> + + <p>A handsom way to win: how now; what fear</p> + + <p>Dwells in your faces? you look all distracted.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Sceva, Anthony, Dolabella. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sceva</i>. If it be fear, 'tis fear of + your undoing,</p> + + <p>Not of our selves: fear of your poor declining:</p> + + <p>Our lives and deaths are equall benefits,</p> + + <p>And we make louder prayers to dye nobly,</p> + + <p>Than to live high, and wantonly: whilst you are + secure here,</p> + + <p>And offer Hecatombs of lazie kisses</p> + + <p>To the lewd god of love, and cowardize,</p> + + <p>And most lasci[v]iously dye in delights,</p> + + <p>You are begirt with the fierce + <i>Alexandrians</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> The spawn of <i>Egypt</i> + flow about your Palace,</p> + + <p>Arm'd all: and ready to assault.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Led on</p> + + <p>By the false and base <i>Photinus</i> and his + Ministers;</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page351" + id="page351"></a>[pg 351]</span> + + <p>No stirring out; no peeping through a loop-hole,</p> + + <p>But straight saluted with an armed Dart.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> No parley: they are deaf to + all but danger,</p> + + <p>They swear they will fley us, and then dry our + Quarters:</p> + + <p>A rasher of a salt lover, is such a + Shooing-horn:</p> + + <p>Can you kiss away this conspiracy, and set us + free?</p> + + <p>Or will the Giant god of love fight for ye?</p> + + <p>Will his fierce war-like bow kill a + Cock-sparrow?</p> + + <p>Bring out the Lady, she can quel this mutiny:</p> + + <p>And with her powerfull looks strike awe into + them:</p> + + <p>She can destroy, and build again the City,</p> + + <p>Your Goddesses have mighty gifts: shew 'em her fair + brests,</p> + + <p>The impregnable Bulworks of proud Love, and let + 'em</p> + + <p>Begin their battery there: she will laugh at + 'em;</p> + + <p>They are not above a hundred thousand, Sir.</p> + + <p>A mist, a mist, that when her Eyes break out,</p> + + <p>Her powerfull radiant eyes, and shake their + flashes,</p> + + <p>Will flye before her heats.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Begirt with Villains?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>S[ce].</i> They come to play you, and + your Love a Huntsup.</p> + + <p>You were told what this same whorson wenching, long + agoe would come to:</p> + + <p>You are taken napping now: has not a Souldier,</p> + + <p>A time to kiss his friend, and a time to + consider,</p> + + <p>But he must lye still digging, like a Pioneer,</p> + + <p>Making of mines, and burying of his honour + there?</p> + + <p>'Twere good you would think—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> And time too, or you will + find else</p> + + <p>A harder task, than Courting a coy Beauty.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Look out and then + believe.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> No, no, hang danger:</p> + + <p>Take me provoking broth, and then goe to her:</p> + + <p>Goe to your Love, and let her feel your valour;</p> + + <p>Charge her whole body, when the sword's in your + throat (Sir,)</p> + + <p>You may cry, <i>Cæsar</i>, and see if that will help + ye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. I'le be my self again, and + meet their furies,</p> + + <p>Meet, and consume their mischiefs: make some shift, + <i>Sceva</i>,</p> + + <p>To recover the Fleet, and bring me up two + Legions,</p> + + <p>And you shall see me, how I'le break like + thunder</p> + + <p>Amongst these beds of slimy Eeles, and scatter + 'em.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Now ye speak sense I'le put + my life to the + hazard,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page352" + id="page352"></a>[pg 352]</span> + + <p>Before I goe No more of this warm Lady,</p> + + <p>She will spoil your sword-hand.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. Goe: come, let's to + Counsel</p> + + <p>How to prevent, and then to execute.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENA III.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Souldiers. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> Did ye see this + Penitence?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> Yes: I saw, and heard + it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sold.</i> And I too: look'd upon + him, and observ'd it,</p> + + <p>He's the strangest <i>Septimus</i> now—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> I heard he was + altered,</p> + + <p>And had given away his Gold to honest uses:</p> + + <p>Cry'd monstrously.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> He cryes abundantly:</p> + + <p>He is blind almost with weeping.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sold.</i> 'Tis most wonderfull</p> + + <p>That a hard hearted man, and an old Souldier</p> + + <p>Should have so much kind moisture: when his Mother + dy'd</p> + + <p>He laugh'd aloud, and made the wickedst + Ballads—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> 'Tis like enough: he never + lov'd his parents;</p> + + <p>Nor can I blame him, for they ne'r lov'd him.</p> + + <p>His Mother dream'd before she was deliver'd</p> + + <p>That she was brought abed with a Buzzard, and ever + after</p> + + <p>She whistl'd him up to th' world: his brave clothes + too</p> + + <p>He has flung away, and goes like one of us now:</p> + + <p>Walks with his hands in's pockets, poor and + sorrowfull,</p> + + <p>And gives the best instructions.—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> And tells stories</p> + + <p>Of honest and good people that were honour'd</p> + + <p>And how they were remembred: and runs mad</p> + + <p>If he but hear of any ungratefull person,</p> + + <p>A bloudy, or betraying man—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sold.</i> If it be possible</p> + + <p>That an Arch-Villain may ever be recovered,</p> + + <p>This penitent Rascal will put hard: 'twere worth our + labour</p> + + <p>To see him once again.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page353" + id="page353"></a>[pg 353]</span> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Septimius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> He spares us that + labour,</p> + + <p>For here he comes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i>—Bless ye my honest + friends,</p> + + <p>Bless ye from base unworthy men; come not near + me,</p> + + <p>For I am yet too taking for your company.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> Did I not tell ye?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> What book's that?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> No doubt</p> + + <p>Some excellent Salve for a sore heart: are you</p> + + <p><i>Septimius</i>, that base knave, that betray'd + <i>Pompey</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I was, and am; unless your + honest thoughts</p> + + <p>Will look upon my penitence, and save me,</p> + + <p>I must be ever Villain: O good Souldiers</p> + + <p>You that have <i>Roman</i> hearts, take heed of + falsehood:</p> + + <p>Take heed of blood; take heed of foul + ingratitude.</p> + + <p>The Gods have scarce a mercy for those + mischiefs,</p> + + <p>Take heed of pride, 'twas that that brought me to + it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> This fellow would make a + rare speech at the gallows.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>[3] Sol.</i> 'Tis very fit he were + hang'd to edifie us:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Let all your thoughts be + humble, and obedient,</p> + + <p>Love your Commanders, honour them that feed ye:</p> + + <p>Pray, that ye may be strong in honesty</p> + + <p>As in the use of arms; Labour, and diligently</p> + + <p>To keep your hearts from ease, and her base + issues,</p> + + <p>Pride, and ambitious wantonness, those spoil'd + me.</p> + + <p>Rather lose all your limbs, than the least + honesty,</p> + + <p>You are never lame indeed, till loss of credit</p> + + <p>Benumb ye through: Scarrs, and those maims of + honour</p> + + <p>Are memorable crutches, that shall bear</p> + + <p>When you are dead, your noble names to Eternity.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> I cry.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> And so do I.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sol.</i> An excellent villain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> A more sweet pious knave I + never heard yet.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> He was happie he was + Rascal, to come to this.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Achoreus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who's this? a Priest?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> O stay, most holy + Sir!</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page354" + id="page354"></a>[pg 354]</span> + + <p>And by the Gods of <i>Egypt</i>, I conjure ye,</p> + + <p>(<i>Isis</i>, and great <i>Osiris</i>) pity me,</p> + + <p>Pity a loaden man, and tell me truly</p> + + <p>With what most humble Sacrifice I may</p> + + <p>Wash off my sin, and appease the powers that hate + me?</p> + + <p>Take from my heart those thousand thousand + furies,</p> + + <p>That restless gnaw upon my life, and save me.</p> + + <p><i>Orestes</i> bloody hands fell on his Mother,</p> + + <p>Yet, at the holy altar he was pardon'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> <i>Orestes</i> out of madness + did his murther,</p> + + <p>And therefore he found grace: thou (worst of all + men)</p> + + <p>Out of cold blood, and hope of gain, base lucre,</p> + + <p>Slew'st thine own Feeder: come not near the + altar,</p> + + <p>Nor with thy reeking hands pollute the + Sacrifice,</p> + + <p>Thou art markt for shame eternal. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Look all on me,</p> + + <p>And let me be a story left to time</p> + + <p>Of blood and Infamy, how base and ugly</p> + + <p>Ingratitude appears, with all her profits,</p> + + <p>How monstrous my hop'd grace, at Court! good + souldiers</p> + + <p>Let neither flattery, nor the witching sound</p> + + <p>Of high and soft preferment, touch your + goodness:</p> + + <p>To be valiant, old, and honest, O what + blessedness—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> Dost thou want any + thing?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Nothing but your prayers.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sol.</i> Be thus, and let the blind + Priest do his worst,</p> + + <p>We have gods as well as they, and they will hear + us.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>3 Sol.</i> Come, cry no more: thou + hast wep't out twenty <i>Pompeys</i>.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Photinus, Achillas. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> So penitent?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> It seems so.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Yet for all this</p> + + <p>We must employ him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sol.</i> These are the arm'd + Souldier leaders:</p> + + <p>Away: and let's toth' Fort, we shall be snapt else. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> How now? why thus? what cause + of this dejection?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Why dost thou weep?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Pray leave me, you have + ruin'd me,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page355" + id="page355"></a>[pg 355]</span> + + <p>You have made me a famous Villain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Does that touch thee?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> He will be hard to win: he + feels his lewdness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> He must be won, or we shall + want our right hand.</p> + + <p>This fellow dares, and knows, and must be + heartned.</p> + + <p>Art thou so poor to blench at what thou hast + done?</p> + + <p>Is Conscience a comrade for an old Soldier?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> It is not that: it may be + some disgrace</p> + + <p>That he takes heavily; and would be cherish'd,</p> + + <p><i>Septimius</i> ever scorn'd to shew such + weakness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Let me alone; I am not for + your purpose,</p> + + <p>I am now a new man.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> We have new affairs for + thee,</p> + + <p>Those that would raise thy head.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I would 'twere off,</p> + + <p>And in your bellies for the love you bear me.</p> + + <p>I'le be no more Knave: I have stings enough</p> + + <p>Already in my breast.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Thou shalt be noble:</p> + + <p>And who dares think then that thou art not + honest?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Thou shalt command in + Chief, all our strong Forces</p> + + <p>And if thou serv'st an use, must not all justifie + it?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>S[e]p.</i> I am Rogue enough.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Thou wilt be more, and + baser:</p> + + <p>A poor Rogue is all Rogues: open to all shames:</p> + + <p>Nothing to shadow him: dost thou think crying</p> + + <p>Can keep thee from the censure of the Multitude?</p> + + <p>Or to be kneeling at the altar save thee?</p> + + <p>'Tis poor and servile:</p> + + <p>Wert thou thine own Sacrifice</p> + + <p>'Twould seem so low, people would spit the fire + out.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Keep thy self glorious + still, though ne're so stain'd,</p> + + <p>And that will lessen it, if not work it out.</p> + + <p>To goe complaining thus, and thus repenting</p> + + <p>Like a poor Girl that had betrai'd her + maide<sup>n</sup>-head—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I'le stop mine ears.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Will shew so in a + Souldier,</p> + + <p>So simply, and so ridiculously, so tamely—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> If people would believe thee, + 'twere some honesty,</p> + + <p>And for thy penitence would not laugh at + thee</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page356" + id="page356"></a>[pg 356]</span> + + <p>(As sure they will) and beat thee for thy + poverty:</p> + + <p>If they would allow thy foolery, there were some + hope.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> My foolery?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Nay, more than that, thy + misery,</p> + + <p>Thy monstrous misery.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>A[c]hil.</i> He begins to hearken:</p> + + <p>Thy misery so great, men will not bury thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> That this were true!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Why does this conquering + <i>Cæsar</i></p> + + <p>Labour through the worlds deep Seas of toyls and + troubles,</p> + + <p>Dangers, and desperate hopes? to repent + afterwards?</p> + + <p>Why does he slaughter thousands in a Battel,</p> + + <p>And whip his Country with the sword? to cry + for't?</p> + + <p>Thou killd'st great <i>Pompey</i>; he'l kill all his + kindred,</p> + + <p>And justifie it: nay raise up <i>Trophies</i> to + it.</p> + + <p>When thou hear'st him repent, (he's held most holy + too)</p> + + <p>And cry for doing daily bloody murthers,</p> + + <p>Take thou example, and go ask forgiveness,</p> + + <p>Call up the thing thou nam'st thy conscience,</p> + + <p>And let it work: then 'twill seem well + <i>Septimius</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> He does all this.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Yes: and is honour'd for + it;</p> + + <p>Nay call'd the honour'd <i>Cæsar</i>, so maist thou + be:</p> + + <p>Thou wert born as near a Crown as he.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> He was poor.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> And desperate bloody tricks + got him this credit.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I am afraid you will once + more—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Help to raise thee:</p> + + <p>Off with thy pining black, it dulls a Souldier,</p> + + <p>And put on resolution like a man,</p> + + <p>A noble Fate waits on thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> I now feel</p> + + <p>My self returning Rascal speedily.</p> + + <p>O that I had the power—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Thou shalt have all:</p> + + <p>And do all through thy power, men shall admire + thee,</p> + + <p>And the vices of <i>Septimius</i> shall turn + vertues.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Off: off: thou must off: off + my cowardize,</p> + + <p>Puling repentance off.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Now thou speakst + nobly.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page357" + id="page357"></a>[pg 357]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Off my dejected looks: and + welcom impudence:</p> + + <p>My daring shall be Deity, to save me:</p> + + <p>Give me instructions, and put action on me:</p> + + <p>A glorious cause upon my swords point, + Gentlemen,</p> + + <p>And let my wit, and valour work: you will raise + me,</p> + + <p>And make me out-dare all my miseries?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> All this, and all thy + wishes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> Use me then,</p> + + <p>Womanish fear farewell: I'le never melt more,</p> + + <p>Lead on, to some great thing, to wake my spirit:</p> + + <p>I cut the Cedar <i>Pompey</i>, and I'le fell</p> + + <p>This huge Oak <i>Cæsar</i> too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Now thou singst sweetly:</p> + + <p>And <i>Ptolomy</i> shall crown thee for thy + service.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> He's well wrought: put him + on apace for cooling.</p> + + <p class="i10">[<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h2><i>Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.</i></h2> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Antony, Dolabella. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> The tumult still + encreases.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. O my fortune!</p> + + <p>My lustfull folly rather! but 'tis well,</p> + + <p>And worthily I am made a bondsmans prey,</p> + + <p>That after all my glorious victories,</p> + + <p>In which I pass'd so many Seas of dangers,</p> + + <p>When all the Elements conspir'd against me,</p> + + <p>Would yield up the dominion of this head</p> + + <p>To any mortal power: so blind and stupid,</p> + + <p>To trust these base <i>Egyptians</i>, that + proclaim'd</p> + + <p>Their perjuries, in noble <i>Pompeys</i> death,</p> + + <p>And yet that could not warn me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Be still <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>Who ever lov'd to exercise his fate,</p> + + <p>Where danger look't most dreadful.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> If you fall,</p> + + <p>Fall not alone: let the King and his Sister</p> + + <p>Be buried in your ruines: on my life</p> + + <p>They both are guilty: reason may assure + you</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page358" + id="page358"></a>[pg 358]</span> + + <p><i>Photinus</i> nor <i>Achillas</i> durst attempt + you,</p> + + <p>Or shake one Dart, or sword, aim'd at your + safety,</p> + + <p>Without their warrant.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. For the young King I know + not</p> + + <p>How he may be misled; but for his Sister</p> + + <p>(Unequall'd <i>Cleopatra</i>) 'twere a kind</p> + + <p>Of blasphemy to doubt her: ugly treason</p> + + <p>Durst never dwell in such a glorious building,</p> + + <p>Nor can so clear and great a spirit, as hers is,</p> + + <p>Admit of falsehood.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Let us seize on him then:</p> + + <p>And leave her to her fortune.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> If he have power</p> + + <p>Use it to your security, and let</p> + + <p>His honesty acquit him: if he be false</p> + + <p>It is too great an honour he should dye</p> + + <p>By your victorious hand.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. He comes: and I</p> + + <p>Shall do as I find cause.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Let not great + <i>Cæsar</i></p> + + <p>Impute the breach of hospitality,</p> + + <p>To you (my guest) to me; I am contemn'd,</p> + + <p>And my rebellious subjects lift their hands</p> + + <p>Against my head: and would they aim'd no + farther,</p> + + <p>Provided that I fell a sacrifice</p> + + <p>To gain you safety: that this is not feign'd,</p> + + <p>The boldness of my innocence may confirm you:</p> + + <p>Had I been privy to their bloody plot,</p> + + <p>I now had led them on, and given fair gloss</p> + + <p>To their bad cause, by being present with them:</p> + + <p>But I that yet taste of the punishment,</p> + + <p>In being false to <i>Pompey</i>, will not make</p> + + <p>A second fault to <i>Cæsar</i> uncompel'd</p> + + <p>With such as have not yet shook off obedience,</p> + + <p>I yield my self to you, and will take part</p> + + <p>In all your dangers.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. This pleads your + excuse,</p> + + <p>And I receive + it.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page359" + id="page359"></a>[pg 359]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ach.</i> If they have any touch</p> + + <p>Of justice, or religion, I will use</p> + + <p>The authority of our Gods, to call them back</p> + + <p>From their bad purpose.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Apo.</i> This part of the palace</p> + + <p>Is yet defensible: we may make it good,</p> + + <p>Till your powers rescue us.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæsar</i>. <i>Cæsar</i> besieg'd?</p> + + <p>O stain to my great actions: 'twas my custom,</p> + + <p>An Army routed, as my feet had wings</p> + + <p>To be first in the chase: nor walls, nor + Bulworks</p> + + <p>Could guard those that escap'd the Battels fury</p> + + <p>From this strong Arm; and I to be enclos'd?</p> + + <p>My heart! my heart! but 'tis necessity,</p> + + <p>To which the Gods must yield, and I obey,</p> + + <p>'Till I redeem it by some glorious way. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENA II.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Photinus, Achillas, Septimius, + <i>Souldiers.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> There's no retiring now, we + are broke in:</p> + + <p>The deed past hope of pardon: if we prosper</p> + + <p>'Twill be stil'd lawful!, and we shall give laws</p> + + <p>To those that now command us: stop not at</p> + + <p>Or loyalty, or duty: bold ambition,</p> + + <p>To dare and power to do, gave the first + difference</p> + + <p>Between the King, and subject, <i>Cæsars + Motto</i>,</p> + + <p><i>Aut Cæsar aut Nihil</i>, each of us must + claim,</p> + + <p>And use it as our own.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> The deed is bloody</p> + + <p>If we conclude in <i>Ptolomies</i> death.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> The better,</p> + + <p>The globe of Empire must be so manur'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> <i>Rome</i>, that from + <i>Romulus</i> first took her name,</p> + + <p>Had her walls water'd with a Crimson showr</p> + + <p>Drain'd from a Brothers heart: nor was she + rais'd</p> + + <p>To this prodigious height, that overlooks</p> + + <p>Three full parts of the Earth, that pay her + tribute,</p> + + <p>But by enlarging of her <sup>n</sup>arrow bounds</p> + + <p>By the Sack of Neighbour Cities, not made + hers</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page360" + id="page360"></a>[pg 360]</span> + + <p>Till they were Cemented with the Blood of those</p> + + <p>That did possess 'em: <i>Cæsar, Ptolomy</i>,</p> + + <p>(Now I am steel'd) to me are empty names</p> + + <p>Esteem'd as <i>Pompeys</i> was.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Well said + <i>Septimius</i>,</p> + + <p>Thou now art right again.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> But what course take we</p> + + <p>For the Princess <i>Cleopatra</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Let her live</p> + + <p>Awhile to make us sport: she shall authorize</p> + + <p>Our undertakings to the ignorant people,</p> + + <p>As if what we do were by her command:</p> + + <p>But our <i>triumvirat</i> Government once + confirm'd,</p> + + <p>She bears her Brother company, that's my + Province:</p> + + <p>Leave me to work her.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> I will undertake</p> + + <p>For <i>Ptolomy</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sep.</i> <i>Cæsar</i> shall be my + task,</p> + + <p>And as in <i>Pompey</i> I began a name</p> + + <p>I'le perfect it in <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter (above)</i> Cæsar, Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus, + Antony, Dolabella. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> 'Tis resolv'd then,</p> + + <p>We'll force our passage.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> See, they do appear</p> + + <p>As they desir'd a Parley.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I am proud yet</p> + + <p>I have brought 'em to capitulate.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> Now, <i>Photinus</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Now, <i>Ptolomy</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ptol.</i> No addition?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> We are equal,</p> + + <p>Though <i>Cæsars</i> name were put into the + scale,</p> + + <p>In which our worth is weigh'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Presumptuous Villain,</p> + + <p>Upon what grounds hast thou presum'd to raise</p> + + <p>Thy servile hand against the King, or me,</p> + + <p>That have a greater name?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> On those, by + which</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page361" + id="page361"></a>[pg 361]</span> + + <p>Thou didst presume to pass the <i>Rubicon</i></p> + + <p>Against the Laws of <i>Rome</i>; and at the name</p> + + <p>Of Traitor smile; as thou didst when + <i>Marcellus</i>,</p> + + <p>The Consul, with the <i>Senates</i> full consent</p> + + <p>Pronounc'd thee for an Enemy to thy Country,</p> + + <p>Yet thou wentst on, and thy rebellious Cause</p> + + <p>Was crown'd with fair success: Why should we fear + then?</p> + + <p>Think on that, <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> O the gods! be brav'd + thus,</p> + + <p>And be compell'd to bear this from a Slave</p> + + <p>That would not brook Great <i>Pompey</i> his + Superiour?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Thy glories now have toucht + the highest point,</p> + + <p>And must descend.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Despair, and think we + stand</p> + + <p>The Champions of <i>Rome</i>, to wreak her + wrongs,</p> + + <p>Upon whose liberty thou hast set thy foot.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> And that the Ghosts of all + those noble <i>Romans</i></p> + + <p>That by thy Sword fell in this Civil War</p> + + <p>Expect revenge.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Dar'st thou speak, and + remember</p> + + <p>There was a <i>Pompey</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> There is no hope to 'scape + us:</p> + + <p>If that against the odds we have upon you</p> + + <p>You dare come forth, and fight, receive the + honour</p> + + <p>To dye like <i>Romans</i>, if ye faint, resolve</p> + + <p>To starve like Wretches; I disdain to change</p> + + <p>Another syllable with you. [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Let us dye nobly;</p> + + <p>And rather fall upon each others Sword</p> + + <p>Than come into these Villains hands.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> That Fortune,</p> + + <p>Which to this hour hath been a Friend to + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>Though for a while she cloath her Brow with + frowns,</p> + + <p>Will smile again upon me: who will pay her,</p> + + <p>Or sacrifice, or Vows, if she forsake</p> + + <p>Her best of works in me? or suffer him,</p> + + <p>Whom with a strong hand she hath led triumphant</p> + + <p>Through the whole western world, and <i>Rome</i> + acknowledg'd</p> + + <p>Her Soveraign Lord, to end in-gloriously</p> + + <p>A life admir'd by all? The threatned + danger</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page362" + id="page362"></a>[pg 362]</span> + + <p>Must by a way more horrid be avoided,</p> + + <p>And I will run the hazard; Fire the Palace,</p> + + <p>And the rich Magazines that neighbour it,</p> + + <p>In which the Wealth of <i>Egypt</i> is + contain'd:</p> + + <p>Start not, it shall be so; that while the people</p> + + <p>Labour in quenching the ensuing flames,</p> + + <p>Like Cæsar, with this handful of my friends</p> + + <p>Through Fire, and Swords I force a passage to</p> + + <p>My conquering Legions. King, if thou dar'd + follow</p> + + <p>Where <i>Cæsar</i> leads, or live or dye a + Free-man;</p> + + <p>If not, stay here a Bond-man to thy Slave,</p> + + <p>And dead, be thought unworthy of a Grave. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENE III.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Septimius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> I feel my resolution melts + again</p> + + <p>And that I am not Knave alone, but fool,</p> + + <p>In all my purposes. The Devil, <i>Photinus</i>,</p> + + <p>Employs me as a Property, and grown useless</p> + + <p>Will shake me off again; he told me so</p> + + <p>When I kill'd <i>Pompey</i>; nor can I hope + better,</p> + + <p>When <i>Cæsar</i> is dispatch'd; Services done</p> + + <p>For such as only study their own ends,</p> + + <p>Too great to be rewarded, are return'd</p> + + <p>With deadly hate; I learn'd this Principle</p> + + <p>In his own School, yet still he fools me, well;</p> + + <p>And yet he trusts me: Since I in my nature</p> + + <p>Was fashion'd to be false, wherefore should I</p> + + <p>That kill'd my General, and a <i>Roman</i>, one</p> + + <p>To whom I ow'd all nourishments of life,</p> + + <p>Be true to an <i>Egyptian</i>? To save + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>And turn <i>Photinus's</i> plots on his own + head,</p> + + <p>As it is in my power, redeem my credit,</p> + + <p>And live to lye and swear again in fashion,</p> + + <p>Oh, 'twere a master-piece! ha!—me + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>How's he got off?</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page363" + id="page363"></a>[pg 363]</span> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Ptolomy, Antony, Dolabella, Achoreus, + Apollodorus, <i>Souldiers.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> The fire has took,</p> + + <p>And shews the City like a second <i>Troy</i>,</p> + + <p>The Navy too is scorch'd, the people greedy</p> + + <p>To save their Wealth and Houses, whilst their + Souldiers</p> + + <p>Make spoil of all; only <i>Achillas's</i> Troops</p> + + <p>Make good their Guard, break through them, we are + safe;</p> + + <p>I'll lead you like a Thunder-bolt.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Stay, <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Who's this? the Dog, + <i>Septimius</i>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Cut his throat.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> You bark'd but now, fawn you + so soon?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> O hear me,</p> + + <p>What I'll deliver is for <i>Cæsars</i> safety,</p> + + <p>For all your good.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> Good from a mouth like + thine,</p> + + <p>That never belch'd but blasphemy, and treason on + Festival days!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> I am an altered man, altered + indeed,</p> + + <p>And will give you cause to say I am a + <i>Roman</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> Rogue, I grant thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Trust me, I'll make the + passage smooth, and easie</p> + + <p>For your escape.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> I'll trust the Devil + sooner,</p> + + <p>And make a safer Bargain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> I am trusted</p> + + <p>With all <i>Photinus's</i> secrets.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> There's no doubt then</p> + + <p>Thou wilt be false.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Still to be true to you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> And very likely.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Be brief, the means?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Thus, <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>To me alone, but bound by terrible oaths</p> + + <p>Not to discover it, he hath reveal'd</p> + + <p>A dismal Vault, whose dreadful mouth does open</p> + + <p>A mile beyond the City: in this Cave</p> + + <p>Lye but two hours conceal'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ant.</i> If you believe + him,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page364" + id="page364"></a>[pg 364]</span> + + <p>He'll bury us alive.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Dol.</i> I'll flye in the Air + first.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Then in the dead of night + I'll bring you back</p> + + <p>Into a private room, where you shall find</p> + + <p><i>Photinus</i>, and <i>Achillas</i>, and the + rest</p> + + <p>Of their Commanders close at Council.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Good, what follows?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Fall me fairly on their + throats,</p> + + <p>Their heads cut off and shorn, the multitude</p> + + <p>Will easily disperse.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> O Devil! away with him;</p> + + <p>Nor true to Friend nor Enemy? <i>Cæsar</i> + scorns</p> + + <p>To find his safety, or revenge his wrongs</p> + + <p>So base a way; or owe the means of life</p> + + <p>To such a leprous Traytor, I have towr'd</p> + + <p>For Victory like a Faulcon in the Clouds,</p> + + <p>Nor dig'd for't like a Mole; our Swords and + Cause</p> + + <p>Make way for us, and that it may appear</p> + + <p>We took a noble Course, and hate base Treason,</p> + + <p>Some Souldiers that would merit <i>Cæsar's</i> + favour,</p> + + <p>Hang him on yonder Turret, and then follow</p> + + <p>The lane this Sword makes for you. [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> Here's a Belt,</p> + + <p>Though I dye for it I'll use it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> 'Tis too good</p> + + <p>To truss a Cur in.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sept.</i> Save me, here's Gold.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> If <i>Rome</i></p> + + <p>Were offered for thy ransom, it could not help + thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>2 Sold.</i> Hang not an arse.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>1 Sold.</i> Goad him on with thy + Sword;</p> + + <p>Thou dost deserve a worser end, and may</p> + + <p>All such conclude so, that their friends betray. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3>SCENE IV.</h3> + + <center> + <i>Enter (severally)</i> Arsino, Eros, Cleopatra. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> We are lost.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. Undone.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Confusion, Fire, and + Swords,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page365" + id="page365"></a>[pg 365]</span> + + <p>And fury in the Souldiers face more horrid</p> + + <p>Circle us round.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. The Kings Command they laugh + at,</p> + + <p>And jeer at <i>Cæsars</i> threats.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> My Brother seiz'd on</p> + + <p>By the <i>Roman</i>, as thought guilty of the + tumult,</p> + + <p>And forc'd to bear him company, as mark'd out</p> + + <p>For his protection or revenge.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. They have broke</p> + + <p>Into my Cabinet; my Trunks are ransack'd.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> I have lost my jewels too: + but that's the least:</p> + + <p>The barbarous Rascals, against all humanity,</p> + + <p>Or sense of pity, have kill'd my little Dog,</p> + + <p>And broke my Monkeys Chain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. They rifled me:</p> + + <p>But that I could endure, would they proceed no + further.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> O my Sister!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. My Queen, my Mistress!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Can you stand unmov'd</p> + + <p>When the Earth-quake of Rebellion shakes the + City,</p> + + <p>And the Court trembles?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Yes, <i>Arsino</i>,</p> + + <p>And with a Masculine Constancy deride</p> + + <p>Fortunes worst malice, as a Servant to</p> + + <p>My Vertues, not a Mistress; then we forsake</p> + + <p>The strong Fort of our selves, when we once + yield,</p> + + <p>Or shrink at her assaults; I am still my self,</p> + + <p>And though disrob'd of Soveraignty, and ravish'd</p> + + <p>Of ceremonious duty, that attends it,</p> + + <p>Nay, grant they had slav'd my Body, my free mind</p> + + <p>Like to the Palm-tree walling fruitful + <i>Nile</i>,</p> + + <p>Shall grow up straighter and enlarge it self</p> + + <p>'Spight of the envious weight that loads it + with:</p> + + <p>Think of thy Birth (<i>Arsino</i>) common + burdens</p> + + <p>Fit common Shoulders; teach the multitude</p> + + <p>By suffering nobly what they fear to touch at;</p> + + <p>The greatness of thy mind does soar a pitch,</p> + + <p>Their dim eyes (darkened by their narrow souls)</p> + + <p>Cannot arrive at.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> I am new + created,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page366" + id="page366"></a>[pg 366]</span> + + <p>And owe this second being to you (best Sister)</p> + + <p>For now I feel you have infus'd into me</p> + + <p>Part of your fortitude.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. I still am fearful;</p> + + <p>I dare not tell a lie; you that were born</p> + + <p>Daughters and Sisters unto Kings, may nourish</p> + + <p>Great thoughts, which I, that am your humble + handmaid</p> + + <p>Must not presume to rival.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Yet (my <i>Eros</i>)</p> + + <p>Though thou hast profited nothing by observing</p> + + <p>The whole course of my life, learn in my death,</p> + + <p>Though not to equal, yet to imitate</p> + + <p>Thy fearless Mistress.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Photinus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. O, a man in Arms!</p> + + <p>His Weapon drawn too?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Though upon the point</p> + + <p>Death sate, I'll meet it, and outdare the + danger.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Keep the Watch strong, and + guard the passage sure</p> + + <p>That leads unto the Sea.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> What Sea of rudeness</p> + + <p>Breaks in upon us? or what Subjects Breath</p> + + <p>Dare raise a storm, when we command a calm?</p> + + <p>Are Duty and Obedience fled to Heaven?</p> + + <p>And in their room ambition and pride</p> + + <p>Sent into <i>Egypt</i>? That Face speaks thee, + <i>Photinus</i>,</p> + + <p>A thing thy Mother brought into the World;</p> + + <p>My Brother's and my Slave: but thy behaviour,</p> + + <p>Oppos'd to that, an insolent intruder</p> + + <p>Upon that Soveraignty thou shouldst bow to.</p> + + <p>If in the Gulph of base ingratitude,</p> + + <p>All loyalty to <i>Ptolomy</i> the King</p> + + <p>Be swallowed up, remember who I am,</p> + + <p>Whose Daughter and whose Sister; or suppose</p> + + <p>That is forgot too; let the name of <i>Cæsar</i></p> + + <p>Which Nations quake at, stop the desperate + madness</p> + + <p>From running headlong on to thy Confusion.</p> + + <p>Throw from thee quickly those rebellious Arms,</p> + + <p>And let me read submission in thine + Eyes;</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page367" + id="page367"></a>[pg 367]</span> + + <p>Thy wrongs to us we will not only pardon,</p> + + <p>But be a ready advocate to plead for thee</p> + + <p>To <i>Cæsar</i>, and my Brother.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Plead my Pardon?</p> + + <p>To you I bow, but scorn as much to stoop thus</p> + + <p>To <i>Ptolomy</i> or <i>Cæsar</i>, Nay, the + gods,</p> + + <p>As to put off the figure of a man,</p> + + <p>And change my Essence with a sensual Beast;</p> + + <p>All my designs, my counsels, and dark ends</p> + + <p>Were aim'd to purchase you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> How durst thou, being</p> + + <p>The scorn of baseness, nourish such a thought?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> They that have power are + royal; and those base</p> + + <p>That live at the devotion of another.</p> + + <p>What birth gave <i>Ptolomy</i>, or fortune + <i>Cæsar</i>,</p> + + <p>By Engines fashion'd in this <i>Protean</i> + Anvil</p> + + <p>I have made mine; and only stoop at you,</p> + + <p>Whom I would still preserve free to command me;</p> + + <p>For <i>Cæsar's</i> frowns, they are below my + thoughts,</p> + + <p>And but in these fair Eyes I still have read</p> + + <p>The story of a supream Monarchy,</p> + + <p>To which all hearts with mine gladly pay + tribute,</p> + + <p><i>Photinus's</i> Name had long since been as + great</p> + + <p>As <i>Ptolomies</i> e'r was, or <i>Cæsars</i> + is,</p> + + <p>This made me as a weaker tye to unloose</p> + + <p>The knot of Loyalty, that chain'd my freedom,</p> + + <p>And slight the fear that <i>Cæsars</i> threats might + cause,</p> + + <p>That I and they might see no Sun appear</p> + + <p>But <i>Cleopatra</i> in the <i>Egyptian</i> + Sphear.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> O Giant-like Ambition! + marryed to</p> + + <p><i>Cymmerian</i> darkness! inconsiderate Fool,</p> + + <p>(Though flatter'd with self-love) could'st thou + believe,</p> + + <p>Were all Crowns on the Earth made into one,</p> + + <p>And that (by Kings) set on thy head; all + Scepters,</p> + + <p>Within thy grasp, and laid down at my feet,</p> + + <p>I would vouchsafe a kiss to a no-man?</p> + + <p>A guelded Eunuch?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> Fairest, that makes for + me,</p> + + <p>And shews it is no sensual appetite,</p> + + <p>But true love to the greatness of thy + Spirit,</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page368" + id="page368"></a>[pg 368]</span> + + <p>That when that you are mine shall yield me + pleasures,</p> + + <p><i>Hymen</i>, though blessing a new married Pair</p> + + <p>Shall blush to think on, and our certain issue,</p> + + <p>The glorious splendor of dread Majesty,</p> + + <p>Whose beams shall dazel <i>Rome</i>, and aw the + world,</p> + + <p>My wants in that kind others shall supply,</p> + + <p>And I give way to it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Baser than thy Birth;</p> + + <p>Can there be gods, and hear this, and no thunder</p> + + <p>Ram thee into the Earth?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> They are asleep,</p> + + <p>And cannot hear thee;</p> + + <p>Or with open Eyes,</p> + + <p>Did <i>Jove</i> look on us, I would laugh and + swear</p> + + <p>That his artillery is cloy'd by me:</p> + + <p>Or if that they have power to hurt, his Bolts</p> + + <p>Are in my hand.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Most impious!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> They are dreams,</p> + + <p>Religious Fools shake at: yet to assure thee,</p> + + <p>If <i>Nemesis</i>, that scourges pride and + scorn,</p> + + <p>Be any thing but a name, she lives in me;</p> + + <p>For by my self (an oath to me more dreadful</p> + + <p>Than <i>Stix</i> is to your gods) weak + <i>Ptolomy</i> dead,</p> + + <p>And <i>Cæsar</i> (both being in my toil) + remov'd,</p> + + <p>The poorest Rascals that are in my Camp</p> + + <p>Shall in my presence quench their lustful heat</p> + + <p>In thee, and young <i>Arsino</i>, while I laugh</p> + + <p>To hear you howl in vain:</p> + + <p>I deride those gods,</p> + + <p>That you think can protect you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> To prevent thee,</p> + + <p>In that I am the Mistress of my Fate;</p> + + <p>So hope I of my sister to confirm it.</p> + + <p>I spit at thee, and scorn thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I will tame</p> + + <p>That haughty courage, and make thee stoop too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Never,</p> + + <p>I was born to command, and will dye so.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page369" + id="page369"></a>[pg 369]</span> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Achillas, <i>and Souldiers, with the Body + of</i> Ptolomy. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> The King dead? this is a fair + entrance to</p> + + <p>Our future happiness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> Oh my dear Brother!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Weep not, <i>Arsino</i>, + common women do so,</p> + + <p>Nor lose a tear for him, it cannot help him;</p> + + <p>But study to dye nobly.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> <i>Cæsar</i> fled!</p> + + <p>'Tis deadly aconite to my cold heart,</p> + + <p>It choaks my vital Spirits: where was your care?</p> + + <p>Did the Guards sleep?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> He rowz'd them with his + Sword;</p> + + <p>We talk of <i>Mars</i>, but I am sure his + Courage</p> + + <p>Admits of no comparison but it self,</p> + + <p>And (as inspir'd by him) his following friends</p> + + <p>With such a confidence as young Eagles prey</p> + + <p>Under the large wing of their fiercer Dam,</p> + + <p>Brake through our Troops and scatter'd them, he went + on</p> + + <p>But still pursu'd by us, when on the sudden,</p> + + <p>He turn'd his head, and from his Eyes flew + terrour;</p> + + <p>Which strook in us no less fear and amazement,</p> + + <p>Than if we had encounter'd with the lightning</p> + + <p>Hurl'd from <i>Jove's</i> cloudy Brow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> 'Twas like my + <i>Cæsar</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> We faln back, he made on, + and as our fear</p> + + <p>Had parted from us with his dreadful looks,</p> + + <p>Again we follow'd; but got near the Sea;</p> + + <p>On which his Navy anchor'd; in one hand</p> + + <p>Holding a Scroll he had above the waves,</p> + + <p>And in the other grasping fast his Sword,</p> + + <p>As it had been a Trident forg'd by <i>Vulcan</i></p> + + <p>To calm the raging Ocean, he made away</p> + + <p>As if he had been <i>Neptune</i>, his friends + like</p> + + <p>So many <i>Tritons</i> follow'd, their bold + shouts</p> + + <p>Yielding a chearful musick; we showr'd darts</p> + + <p>Upon them, but in vain, they reach'd their ships</p> + + <p>And in their safety we are sunk; for + <i>Cæsar</i></p> + + <p>Prepares for War.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> How fell the + King?</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page370" + id="page370"></a>[pg 370]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Achil.</i> Unable</p> + + <p>To follow <i>Cæsar</i>, he was trod to death</p> + + <p>By the Pursuers, and with him the Priest</p> + + <p>Of <i>Isis</i>, good <i>Achoreus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> May the Earth</p> + + <p>Lye gently on their ashes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> I feel now,</p> + + <p>That there are powers above us; and that 'tis + not</p> + + <p>Within the searching policies of man</p> + + <p>To alter their decrees.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> I laugh at thee;</p> + + <p>Where are thy threats now, Fool, thy scoffs and + scorns</p> + + <p>Against the gods? I see calamity</p> + + <p>Is the best Mistress of Religion,</p> + + <p>And can convert an Atheist. [<i>Shout + within.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Pho.</i> O they come,</p> + + <p>Mountains fall on me! O for him to dye</p> + + <p>That plac'd his Heaven on Earth, is an assurance</p> + + <p>Of his descent to Hell; where shall I hide me?</p> + + <p>The greatest daring to a man dishonest,</p> + + <p>Is but a Bastard Courage, ever fainting. + [<i>Exit.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Sceva, Antony, Dolabella. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> Look on your <i>Cæsar</i>; + banish fear, my fairest,</p> + + <p>You now are safe.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> By <i>Venus</i>, not a + kiss</p> + + <p>Till our work be done; the Traitors once + dispatch'd</p> + + <p>To it, and we'll cry aim.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> I will be speedy. + [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> Farewel again, + <i>Arsino</i>; how now, <i>Eros</i>?</p> + + <p>Ever faint-hearted?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Eros</i>. But that I am assur'd,</p> + + <p>Your Excellency can command the General,</p> + + <p>I fear the Souldiers, for they look as if</p> + + <p>They would be nibling too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cleo.</i> He is all honour,</p> + + <p>Nor do I now repent me of my favours,</p> + + <p>Nor can I think that Nature e'r made a Woman</p> + + <p>That in her prime deserv'd him.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page371" + id="page371"></a>[pg 371]</span> + + <center> + <i>Enter</i> Cæsar, Sceva, Antonie, Dolabella, + <i>Souldiers, with the Heads.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Ars.</i> He's come back,</p> + + <p>Pursue no further; curb the Souldiers fury.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> See (beauteous Mistris) their + accursed heads</p> + + <p>That did conspire against us.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Sce.</i> Furies plague 'em,</p> + + <p>They had too fair an end to dye like Souldiers,</p> + + <p><i>Pompey</i> fell by the Sword, the Cross or + Halter</p> + + <p>Should have dispatch'd them.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2"><i>Cæs.</i> All is but death, good + <i>Sceva</i>,</p> + + <p>Be therefore satisfied: and now my dearest,</p> + + <p>Look upon <i>Cæsar</i>, as he still appear'd</p> + + <p>A Conquerour, and this unfortunate King</p> + + <p>Entomb'd with honour, we'll to <i>Rome</i>, where + <i>Cæsar</i></p> + + <p>Will shew he can give Kingdoms; for the Senate,</p> + + <p>(Thy Brother dead) shall willingly decree</p> + + <p>The Crown of <i>Egypt</i> (that was his) to thee. + [<i>Exeunt omnes.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>Prologue.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>New Titles warrant not a Play for new,</i></p> + + <p><i>The Subject being old; and 'tis as true,</i></p> + + <p><i>Fresh and neat matter may with ease be + fram'd</i></p> + + <p><i>Out of their Stories, that have oft been + nam'd</i></p> + + <p><i>With glory on the Stage; what borrows he</i></p> + + <p><i>From him that wrote old</i> Priam's + <i>Tragedy,</i></p> + + <p><i>That writes his love to</i> Hecuba? <i>Sure to + tell</i></p> + + <p><i>Of</i> Cæsars <i>amorous heats, and how he + fell</i></p> + + <p><i>In the Capitol, can never be the same</i></p> + + <p><i>To the Judicious; Nor will such blame</i></p> + + <p><i>Those who pen'd this, for Barrenness when they + find</i></p> + + <p><i>Young</i> Cleopatra <i>here, and her great + Mind</i></p> + + <p><i>Expressed to the height, with us a Maid, and + free,</i></p> + + <p><i>And how he rated her + Virginitie.</i></p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page372" + id="page372"></a>[pg 372]</span> + + <p><i>We treat not of what boldness she did + dye,</i></p> + + <p><i>Nor of her fatal Love to</i> Antony.</p> + + <p><i>What we present and offer to your view,</i></p> + + <p><i>Upon their faiths the Stage yet never + knew.</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Let Reason then first to your Wills + give laws,</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>And after judge of them and of their + cause.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>Epilogue.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>I Now should wish another had my place,</i></p> + + <p><i>But that I hope to come off, and with + Grace;</i></p> + + <p><i>And but express some sign that you are + pleas'd,</i></p> + + <p><i>We of our doubts, they of their fears are + eas'd.</i></p> + + <p><i>I would beg further (Gentlemen) and much + say</i></p> + + <p><i>In favour of our selves, them, and the + Play;</i></p> + + <p><i>Did I not rest assured, the most I see</i></p> + + <p><i>Hate Impudence, and cherish Modestie.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page373" + id="page373"></a></span> + + <h2>APPENDIX.</h2> + + <p>p. <a href="#page300">300</a>, ll. 5-39. Not in 1st + folio.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page301">301</a>, l. 3. 2nd folio] Achil. Love + the K. l. 30. frequent in this. l. 31. to safe.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page302">302</a>, l. 13. and give.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page303">303</a>, l. 10. 2nd folio <i>here and + frequently prints</i>] Septinius.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page304">304</a>, ll. 3 and 4. o' these ... + foole us; l. 7. 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Aeh.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page305">305</a>. l. 7. Till they. l. 24. 2nd + folio <i>misprints</i>] and.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page309">309</a>, l. 30. <i>A missing bracket + has been added before</i> Photinus.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page310">310</a>, l. 4. Prerogatives. l. 31. + 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] Potolmy. l. 40. hand of.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page313">313</a>, l. 29. a Prisoner.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page316">316</a>, l. 2. of thy. l. 11. + <i>Omits</i> in. l. 14. sought him.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page318">318</a>, l. 16. <i>A comma has been + added at the end of the line.</i></p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page320">320</a>, l. 20. tell you. l. 24. + <i>Adds the following line</i>] I gave you no comission to + performe it: l. 31. with ye. l. 32. Hangers.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page321">321</a>, l. 23. told ye. l. 30. ye + are.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page322">322</a>, l. 33. my anger.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page323">323</a>, l. 2. 2nd folio] + Lordships.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page324">324</a>, l. 32. <i>Adds the following + line</i>] The rule of ill, I'le trust before the dore.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page325">325</a>, l. 1. I sat. l. 17. + Affrinius. l. 23. past now. l. 29. comes still.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page326">326</a>, l. 9. <i>Omits</i> rich. l. + 32. <i>Omits</i> that.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page327">327</a>, l. 3. Pray.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page328">328</a>, l. 1. I know. l. 6. on a.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page329">329</a>, l. 14. first would.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page330">330</a>, l. 34. 2nd folio + <i>misprints</i>] Apollodrous.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page331">331</a>, l. 28. loades us.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page332">332</a>, l. 11. this rare. l. 20. + cradled.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page333">333</a>, l. 27. halfe an houre.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page334">334</a>, l. 13. Devills are light.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page336">336</a>, l. 1. 2nd folio] villaines. + l. 10. my God. l. 12. Rude valorus. l. 28. 2nd folio] + shall.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page337">337</a>, l. 1. blood. l. 7. stuffes. + l. 8. Leaper. l. 26. <i>Omits</i> To.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page338">338</a>, l. 18. 2nd folio + <i>misprints</i>] Sep. l. 23. the charities. l. 31. The + infectious.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page340">340</a>, l. 20. readiest. l. 30. + <i>Adds after</i> treasure?] richer still?</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page341">341</a>, l. 11. <i>Omits</i> me.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page343">343</a>, l. 1. hidden.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page344">344</a>, l. 13. they would. l. 31. + Pray thee be.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page346">346</a>, l. 23. Lovers.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page347">347</a>, l. 9. Dye not.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page348">348</a>, l. 39. to my.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page349">349</a>, l. 18. backe; but.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page350">350</a>, l. 34. 2nd folio + <i>misprints</i>] lasciciously.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page351">351</a>, l. 20. 2nd folio + <i>misprints</i>] Sec.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page353">353</a>, l. 20. 2nd folio] 2 Sol. l. + 27. loose all.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page355">355</a>, l. 23. 2nd folio + <i>misprints</i>] Sep. l. 35. 2nd folio <i>misprints</i>] + maidend-head.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page356">356</a>, l. 6. 2nd folio + <i>misprints</i>] Achil. l. 16. hearest.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page357">357</a>, l. 10. to weale my. l. 22. + bondmans.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page359">359</a>, l. 21. A will. l. 31. manur. + l. 37. 2nd folio] marrow. l. 38. Cities, were made.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page360">360</a>, l. 14. 2nd folio] Brother, + company that's. l. 28. them.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page362">362</a>, l. 9. darst. l. 17. This + Devill. l. 23. rewarded, or return'd. l. 29. I owe.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page363">363</a>, l. 6. while. l. 7. Achillas + troops. l. 17. a moneth. l. 27. Photinus secrets.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page365">365</a>, ll. 15 and 16.</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">They rufled me:</p> + + <p>But that I could endure, and tire 'em too,</p> + + <p>Would they proceed no further.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>l. 20. When an.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page367">367</a>, l. 6. To Ptolomy, to Cæsar. + l. 23. Photinus name. l. 29. th' Egyptian.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page368">368</a>, l. 37. make it. l. 39. and I + will.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page369">369</a>, l. 6. Nor loose. l. 16. you + Eagletss. l. 18. 'em.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page370">370</a>, l. 37. <i>Omits</i> that.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page371">371</a>, l. 5. <i>Omits</i> Cæs. l. + 15. for Rome. l. 20. The Prologue. l. 32. Those that + penn'd.</p> + + <p>p. <a href="#page372">372</a>, l. 7. The Epilogue. l. 13. In + the favour.</p> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE ONE***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 14771-h.txt or 14771-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/7/7/14771">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/7/7/14771</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The False One + +Author: Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +Release Date: January 23, 2005 [eBook #14771] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE ONE*** + + +E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, William Flis, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +THE FALSE ONE + +A Tragedy + +by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +Edited by Arnold Glover + + + + + + + + +PERSONS REPRESENTED IN THE PLAY. + + Julius Caesar, _Emperour of_ Rome. + Ptolomy, _King of_ AEgypt. + Achoreus, _an honest Counsellor, Priest of_ Isis. + Photinus, _a Politician, minion to_ Ptolomy. + Achillas, _Captain of the Guard to_ Ptolomy. + Septimius, _a revolted Roman Villain._ + Labienus, _a Roman Souldier, and_ Nuncio. + Apollodorus, _Guardian to_ Cleopatra. + Antonie, ) + Dolabella, ) Caesars _Captains._ + Sceva, _a free Speaker, also Captain to_ Caesar. + _Guard._ + _Three lame Souldiers._ + _Servants._ + + +_WOMEN._ + + Cleopatra, _Queen of_ AEgypt. Caesar's _Mistris._ + Arsino, Cleopatra's _Sister._ + Eros, Cleopatra's _waiting Woman._ + + + +_The Scene_ AEgypt. + + + +The principal Actors were, + + _John Lowin._ + _John Underwood._ + _Robert Benfield._ + _Richard Sharpe._ + _Joseph Taylor._ + _Nicholas Toolie._ + _John Rice._ + _George Birch._ + + + + +_ACTUS PRIMUS. SCENA PRIMA._ + + _Enter_ Achillas, _and_ Achoreus. + + [_Ach._] I love the King, nor do dispute his power, + (For that is not confin'd, nor to be censur'd + By me, that am his Subject) yet allow me + The liberty of a Man, that still would be + A friend to Justice, to demand the motives + That did induce young _Ptolomy_, or _Photinus_, + (To whose directions he gives up himself, + And I hope wisely) to commit his Sister, + The Princess _Cleopatra_ (if I said + The Queen) _Achillas_ 'twere (I hope) no treason, + She being by her Fathers Testament + (Whose memory I bow to) left Co-heir + In all he stood possest of. + + _Achil._ 'Tis confest + (My good _Achoreus_) that in these Eastern Kingdoms + Women are not exempted from the Sceptre, + But claim a priviledge, equal to the Male; + But how much such divisions have ta'en from + The Majesty of _Egypt_, and what factions + Have sprung from those partitions, to the ruine + Of the poor Subject, (doubtful which to follow,) + We have too many, and too sad examples, + Therefore the wise _Photinus_, to prevent + The Murthers, and the Massacres, that attend + On disunited Government, and to shew + The King without a Partner, in full splendour, + Thought it convenient the fair _Cleopatra_, + (An attribute not frequent to the Climate) + Should be committed in safe Custody, + In which she is attended like her Birth, + Until her Beauty, or her royal Dowre, + Hath found her out a Husband. + + _Ach._ How this may + Stand with the rules of policy, I know not; + Most sure I am, it holds no correspondence + With the Rites of _AEgypt_, or the Laws of Nature; + But grant that _Cleopatra_ can sit down + With this disgrace (though insupportable) + Can you imagine, that _Romes_ glorious Senate + (To whose charge, by the will of the dead King + This government was deliver'd) or great _Pompey_, + (That is appointed _Cleopatra_'s Guardian + As well as _Ptolomies_) will e're approve + Of this rash counsel, their consent not sought for, + That should authorize it? + + _Achil._ The Civil war + In which the _Roman_ Empire is embarqu'd + On a rough Sea of danger, does exact + Their whole care to preserve themselves, and gives them + No vacant time to think of what we do, + Which hardly can concern them. + + _Ach._ What's your opinion + Of the success? I have heard, in multitudes + Of Souldiers, and all glorious pomp of war, + _Pompey_ is much superiour. + + _Achil._ I could give you + A Catalogue of all the several Nations + From whence he drew his powers: but that were tedious. + They have rich arms, are ten to one in number, + Which makes them think the day already won; + And _Pompey_ being master of the Sea, + Such plenty of all delicates are brought in, + As if the place on which they are entrench'd, + Were not a Camp of Souldiers, but _Rome_, + In which _Lucullus_ and _Apicius_ joyn'd, + To make a publique Feast: they at _Dirachium_ + Fought with success; but knew not to make use of + _Fortunes_ fair offer: so much I have heard + _Caesar_ himself confess. + + _Ach._ Where are they now? + + _Achil._ In _Thessalie_, near the _Pharsalian_ plains + Where _Caesar_ with a handfull of his Men + Hems in the greater number: his whole troops + Exceed not twenty thousand, but old Souldiers + Flesh'd in the spoils of _Germany_ and _France_, + Inur'd to his Command, and only know + To fight and overcome; And though that _Famine_ + Raigns in his Camp, compelling them to tast + Bread made of roots, forbid the use of man, + (Which they with scorn threw into _Pompeys_ Camp + As in derision of his Delicates) + Or corn not yet half ripe, and that a Banquet: + They still besiege him, being ambitious only + To come to blows, and let their swords determine + Who hath the better Cause. + + _Enter_ Septi[m]ius. + + _Ach._ May Victory + Attend on't, where it is. + + _Achil._ We every hour + Expect to hear the issue. + + _Sep._ Save my good Lords; + By _Isis_ and _Osiris_, whom you worship; + And the four hundred gods and goddesses + Ador'd in _Rome_, I am your honours servant. + + _Ach._ Truth needs, _Septimius_, no oaths. + + _Achil._ You are cruel, + If you deny him swearing, you take from him + Three full parts of his language. + + _Sep._ Your Honour's bitter, + Confound me, where I love I cannot say it, + But I must swear't: yet such is my ill fortune, + Nor vows, nor protestations win belief, + I think, and (I can find no other reason) + Because I am a _Roman_. + + _Ach._ No _Septimius_, + To be a _Roman_ were an honour to you, + Did not your manners, and your life take from it, + And cry aloud, that from _Rome_ you bring nothing + But _Roman_ Vices, which you would plant here, + But no seed of her vertues. + + _Sep._ With your reverence + I am too old to learn. + + _Ach._ Any thing honest, + That I believe, without an oath. + + _Sep._ I fear + Your Lordship has slept ill to night, and that + Invites this sad discourse: 'twill make you old + Before your time:--O these vertuous Morals, + And old religious principles, that fool us! + I have brought you a new Song, will make you laugh, + Though you were at your prayers. + + _A[c]h._ What is the subject? + Be free _Septimius_. + + _Sep._ 'Tis a Catalogue + Of all the Gamesters of the Court and City, + Which Lord lyes with that Lady, and what Gallant + Sports with that Merchants wife; and does relate + Who sells her honour for a Diamond, + Who, for a tissew robe: whose husband's jealous, + And who so kind, that, to share with his wife, + Will make the match himself: + Harmless conceits, + Though fools say they are dangerous: I sang it + The last night at my Lord _Photinus_ table. + + _Ach._ How? as a Fidler? + + _Sep._ No Sir, as a Guest, + A welcom guest too: and it was approv'd of + By a dozen of his friends, though they were touch'd in't: + For look you, 'tis a kind of merriment, + When we have laid by foolish modesty + (As not a man of fashion will wear it) + To talk what we have done; at least to hear it; + If meerily set down, it fires the blood, + And heightens Crest-faln appetite. + + _Ach._ New doctrine! + + _Achil._ Was't of your own composing? + + _Sep._ No, I bought it + Of a skulking Scribler for two Ptolomies: + But the hints were mine own; the wretch was fearfull: + But I have damn'd my self, should it be question'd, + That I will own it. + + _Ach._ And be punished for it: + Take heed: for you may so long exercise + Your scurrilous wit against authority, + The Kingdoms Counsels; and make profane Jests, + (Which to you (being an atheist) is nothing) + Against Religion, that your great maintainers + (Unless they would be thought Co-partners with you) + Will leave you to the Law: and then, _Septimius_, + Remember there are whips. + + _Sep._ For whore's I grant you, + When they are out of date, till then are safe too, + Or all the Gallants of the Court are Eunuchs, + And for mine own defence I'le only add this, + I'le be admitted for a wanton tale + To some most private Cabinets, when your Priest-hood + (Though laden with the mysteries of your goddess) + Shall wait without unnoted: so I leave you + To your pious thoughts. [_Exit._ + + _Achil._ 'Tis a strange impudence, + This fellow does put on. + + _Ach._ The wonder great, + He is accepted of. + + _Achil._ Vices, for him, + Make as free way as vertues doe for others. + 'Tis the times fault: yet Great ones still have grace'd + To make them sport, or rub them o're with flattery, + Observers of all kinds. + + _Enter_ Photinus, _and_ Septimius. + + _Ach._ No more of him, + He is not worth our thoughts: a Fugitive + From _Pompeys_ army: and now in a danger + When he should use his service. + + _Achil._ See how he hangs + On great _Photinus_ Ear. + + _Sep._ Hell, and the furies, + And all the plagues of darkness light upon me: + You are my god on earth: and let me have + Your favour here, fall what can fall hereafter. + + _Pho._ Thou art believ'd: dost thou want mony? + + _Sep._ No Sir. + + _Pho._ Or hast thou any suite? these ever follow + Thy vehement protestations. + + _Sep._ You much wrong me; + How can I want, when your beams shine upon me, + Unless employment to express my zeal + To do your greatness service? do but think + A deed so dark, the Sun would blush to look on, + For which Man-kind would curse me, and arm all + The powers above, and those below against me: + Command me, I will on. + + _Pho._ When I have use, + I'le put you to the test. + + _Sep._ May it be speedy, + And something worth my danger: you are cold, + And know not your own powers: this brow was fashion'd + To wear a Kingly wreath, and your grave judgment, + Given to dispose of monarchies, not to govern + A childs affairs, the peoples eye's upon you, + The Souldier courts you: will you wear a garment + Of sordid loyalty when 'tis out of fashion? + + _Pho._ When _Pompey_ was thy General, _Septimius_, + Thou saidst as much to him. + + _Sep._ All my love to him, + To _Caesar_, _Rome_, and the whole world is lost + In the Ocean of your Bounties: I have no friend, + Project, design, or Countrey, but your favour, + Which I'le preserve at any rate. + + _Pho._ No more; + When I call on you, fall not off: perhaps + Sooner than you expect, I may employ you, + So leave me for a while. + + _Sep._ Ever your Creature. [_Exit._ + + _Pho._ Good day _Achoreus_; my best friend _Achillas_, + Hath fame deliver'd yet no certain rumour + Of the great _Roman Action_? + + _Achil._ That we are + To enquire, and learn of you Sir: whose grave care + For _Egypts_ happiness, and great _Ptolomies_ good, + Hath eyes and ears in all parts. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Labienus, _Guard._ + + _Pho._ I'le not boast, + What my Intelligence costs me: but 'ere long + You shall know more. The King, with him a _Roman_. + + _Ach._ The scarlet livery of unfortunate war + Dy'd deeply on his face. + + _Achil._ 'Tis _Labienus_ + _Caesars_ Lieutenant in the wars of _Gaul_, + And fortunate in all his undertakings: + But since these Civil jars he turn'd to _Pompey_, + And though he followed the better Cause + Not with the like success. + + _Pho._ Such as are wise + Leave falling buildings, flye to those that rise; + But more of that hereafter. + + _Lab._ In a word, Sir, + These gaping wounds, not taken as a slave, + Speak _Pompey's_ loss: to tell you of the Battail, + How many thousand several bloody shapes + Death wore that day in triumph: how we bore + The shock of _Caesars_ charge: or with what fury + His Souldiers came on as if they had been + So many _Caesars_, and like him ambitious + To tread upon the liberty of _Rome_: + How Fathers kill'd their Sons, or Sons their Fathers, + Or how the _Roman_ Piles on either side + Drew _Roman_ blood, which spent, the Prince of weapons, + (The sword) succeeded, which in Civil wars + Appoints the Tent on which wing'd victory + Shall make a certain Stand; then, how the Plains + Flow'd o're with blood, and what a cloud of vulturs + And other birds of prey, hung o're both armies, + Attending when their ready Servitors, + (The Souldiers, from whom the angry gods + Had took all sense of reason, and of pity) + Would serve in their own carkasses for a feast, + How _Caesar_ with his Javelin force'd them on + That made the least stop, when their angry hands + Were lifted up against some known friends face; + Then coming to the body of the army + He shews the sacred _Senate_, and forbids them + To wast their force upon the Common Souldier, + Whom willingly, if e're he did know pity, + He would have spar'd. + + _Ptol._ The reason _Labienus_? + + _Lab._ Full well he knows, that in their blood he was + To pass to Empire, and that through their bowels + He must invade the Laws of _Rome_, and give + A period to the liberty of the world. + Then fell the _Lepidi_, and the bold _Corvini_, + The fam'd _Torquati_, _Scipio's_, and _Marcelli_, + (Names next to _Pompeys_, most renown'd on Earth) + The Nobles, and the Commons lay together, + And Pontique, Punique, and _Assyrian_ blood + Made up one crimson Lake: which _Pompey_ seeing, + And that his, and the fate of _Rome_ had left him + Standing upon the Rampier of his Camp, + Though scorning all that could fall on himself, + He pities them whose fortunes are embarqu'd + In his unlucky quarrel; cryes aloud too + That they should sound retreat, and save themselves: + That he desir'd not, so much noble blood + Should be lost in his service, or attend + On his misfortunes: and then, taking horse + With some few of his friends, he came to _Lesbos_, + And with _Cornelia_, his Wife, and Sons, + He's touch'd upon your shore: the King of _Parthia_, + (Famous in his defeature of the _Crassi_) + Offer'd him his protection, but _Pompey_ + Relying on his Benefits, and your Faith, + Hath chosen _AEgypt_ for his Sanctuary, + Till he may recollect his scattered powers, + And try a second day: now _Ptolomy_, + Though he appear not like that glorious thing + That three times rode in triumph, and gave laws + To conquer'd Nations, and made Crowns his gift + (As this of yours, your noble Father took + From his victorious hand, and you still wear it + At his devotion) to do you more honour + In his declin'd estate, as the straightst Pine + In a full grove of his yet flourishing friends, + He flyes to you for succour, and expects + The entertainment of your Fathers friend, + And Guardian to your self. + + _Ptol._ To say I grieve his fortune + As much as if the Crown I wear (his gift) + Were ravish'd from me, is a holy truth, + Our Gods can witness for me: yet, being young, + And not a free disposer of my self; + Let not a few hours, borrowed for advice, + Beget suspicion of unthankfulness, + (Which next to Hell I hate) pray you retire, + And take a little rest, and let his wounds + Be with that care attended, as they were + Carv'd on my flesh: good _Labienus_, think + The little respite, I desire shall be + Wholly emploi'd to find the readiest way + To doe great _Pompey_ service. + + _Lab._ May the gods + (As you intend) protect you. [_Exit._ + + _Ptol._ Sit: sit all, + It is my pleasure: your advice, and freely. + + _Ach._ A short deliberation in this, + May serve to give you counsel: to be honest, + Religious and thankfull, in themselves + Are forcible motives, and can need no flourish + Or gloss in the perswader; your kept faith, + (Though _Pompey_ never rise to th' height he's fallen from) + _Caesar_ himself will love; and my opinion + Is (still committing it to graver censure) + You pay the debt you owe him, with the hazard + Of all you can call yours. + + _Ptol._ What's yours, (_Photinus_?) + + _Pho._ _Achoreus_ (great _Ptolomy_) hath counsell'd + Like a Religious, and honest man, + Worthy the honour that he justly holds + In being Priest to _Isis_: But alas, + What in a man, sequester'd from the world, + Or in a private person, is prefer'd, + No policy allows of in a King, + To be or just, or thankfull, makes Kings guilty, + And faith (though prais'd) is punish'd that supports + Such as good Fate forsakes: joyn with the gods, + Observe the man they favour, leave the wretched, + The Stars are not more distant from the Earth + Than profit is from honesty; all the power, + Prerogative, and greatness of a Prince + Is lost, if he descend once but to steer + His course, as what's right, guides him: let him leave + The Scepter, that strives only to be good, + Since Kingdomes are maintain'd by force and blood. + + _Ach._ Oh wicked! + + _Ptol._ Peace: goe on. + + _Pho._ Proud Pompey shews how much he scorns your youth, + In thinking that you cannot keep your own + From such as are or'e come. If you are tired + With being a King, let not a stranger take + What nearer pledges challenge: resign rather + The government of _Egypt_ and of _Nile_ + To _Cleopatra_, that has title to them, + At least defend them from the Roman _gripe_, + What was not _Pompeys_, while the wars endured, + The Conquerour will not challenge; by all the world + Forsaken and despis'd, your gentle Guardian + His hopes and fortunes desperate, makes choice of + What Nation he shall fall with: and pursu'd + By their pale ghosts, slain in this Civil war, + He flyes not _Caesar_ only, but the Senate, + Of which, the greater part have cloi'd the hunger + Of sharp _Pharsalian_ fowl, he flies the Nations + That he drew to his Quarrel, whose Estates + Are sunk in his: and in no place receiv'd, + Hath found out _Egypt_, by him yet not ruin'd: + And _Ptolomy_, things consider'd, justly may + Complain of _Pompey_: wherefore should he stain + Our _Egypt_, with the spots of civil war? + Or make the peaceable, or quiet _Nile_ + Doubted of _Caesar_? wherefore should he draw + His loss, and overthrow upon our heads? + Or choose this place to suffer in? already + We have offended _Caesar_, in our wishes, + And no way left us to redeem his favour + But by the head of _Pompey_. + + _Ach._ Great _Osiris_, + Defend thy _AEgypt_ from such cruelty, + And barbarous ingratitude! + + _Pho._ Holy trifles, + And not to have place in designs of State; + This sword, which Fate commands me to unsheath, + I would not draw on _Pompey_, if not vanquish'd. + I grant it rather should have pass'd through _Caesar_, + But we must follow where his fortune leads us; + All provident Princes measure their intents + According to their power, and so dispose them: + And thinkst thou (_Ptolomy_) that thou canst prop + His Ruines, under whom sad _Rome_ now suffers? + Or 'tempt the Conquerours force when 'tis confirm'd? + Shall we, that in the Battail sate as Neuters + Serve him that's overcome? No, no, he's lost. + And though 'tis noble to a sinking friend + To lend a helping hand, while there is hope + He may recover, thy part not engag'd + Though one most dear, when all his hopes are dead, + To drown him, set thy foot upon his head. + + _Ach._ Most execrable Counsel. + + _Pho._ To be follow'd, + 'Tis for the Kingdoms safety. + + _Ptol._ We give up + Our absolute power to thee: dispose of it + As reason shall direct thee. + + _Pho._ Good _Achillas_, + Seek out _Septimius_: do you but sooth him, + He is already wrought: leave the dispatch + To me of _Labienus_: 'tis determin'd + Already how you shall proceed: nor Fate + Shall alter it, since now the dye is cast, + But that this hour to _Pompey_ is his last. [_Exit._ + + + +SCENA II. + + + _Enter_ Apollodorus, Eros, Arsino. + + _Apol._ Is the Queen stirring, _Eros_? + + _Eros._ Yes, for in truth + She touch'd no bed to night. + + _Apol._ I am sorry for it, + And wish it were in me, with my hazard, + To give her ease. + + _Ars._ Sir, she accepts your will, + And does acknowledge she hath found you noble, + So far, as if restraint of liberty + Could give admission to a thought of mirth, + She is your debtor for it. + + _Apol._ Did you tell her + Of the sports I have prepar'd to entertain her? + She was us'd to take delight, with her fair hand, + To angle in the _Nile_, where the glad fish + (As if they knew who 'twas sought to deceive 'em) + Contended to be taken: other times + To strike the Stag, who wounded by her arrows, + Forgot his tears in death, and kneeling thanks her + To his last gasp, then prouder of his Fate, + Than if with Garlands Crown'd, he had been chosen + To fall a Sacrifice before the altar + Of the Virgin Huntress: the King, nor great _Photinus_ + Forbid her any pleasure; and the Circuit + In which she is confin'd, gladly affords + Variety of pastimes, which I would + Encrease with my best service. + + _Eros._ O, but the thought + That she that was born free, and to dispense + Restraint, or liberty to others, should be + At the devotion of her Brother, whom + She only knows her equal, makes this place + In which she lives (though stor'd with all delights) + A loathsome dungeon to her. + + _Apol._ Yet, (howe're + She shall interpret it) I'le not be wanting + To do my best to serve her: I have prepar'd + Choise Musick near her Cabinet, and compos'd + Some few lines, (set unto a solemn time) + In the praise of imprisonment. Begin Boy. + +THE SONG. + + _Look out bright eyes, and bless the air:_ + _Even in shadows you are fair._ + _Shut-up-beauty is like fire,_ + _That breaks out clearer still and higher._ + _Though your body be confin'd,_ + _And soft Love a prisoner bound,_ + _Yet the beauty of your mind_ + _Neither check, nor chain hath found._ + _Look out nobly then, and dare_ + _Even the Fetters that you wear._ + + _Enter_ Cleopatra. + + _Cleo._ But that we are assur'd this tastes of duty, + And love in you, my _Guardian_, and desire + In you, my _Sister_, and the rest, to please us, + We should receive this, as a sawcy rudeness + Offer'd our private thoughts. But your intents + Are to delight us: alas, you wash an _Ethiop_: + Can _Cleopatra_, while she does remember + Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O + I suffer in the name) and that (in Justice) + There is no place in _AEgypt_, where I stand, + But that the tributary Earth is proud + To kiss the foot of her, that is her Queen, + Can she, I say, that is all this, e're relish + Of comfort, or delight, while base _Photinus_, + Bond-man _Achillas_, and all other monsters + That raign o're _Ptolomy_, make that a Court, + Where they reside, and this, where I, a Prison? + But there's a _Rome_, a _Senate_, and a _Caesar_, + (Though the great _Pompey_ lean to _Ptolomy_) + May think of _Cleopatra_. + + _Ap._ _Pompey_, Madam? + + _Cleo._ What of him? speak: if ill, _Apollodorus_, + It is my happiness: and for thy news + Receive a favour (_Kings_ have kneel'd in vain for) + And kiss my hand. + + _Ap._ He's lost. + + _Cleo._ Speak it again! + + _Ap._ His army routed: he fled and pursu'd + By the all-conquering Caesar. + + _Cleo._ Whither bends he? + + _Ap._ To _Egypt_. + + _Cleo._ Ha! in person? + + _Ap._ 'Tis receiv'd + For an undoubted truth. + + _Cleo._ I live again, + And if assurance of my love, and beauty + Deceive me not, I now shall find a Judge + To do me right: but how to free my self, + And get access? the _Guards_ are strong upon me, + This door I must pass through. _Apollodorus_, + Thou often hast profess'd (to do me service,) + Thy life was not thine own. + + _Ap._ I am not alter'd; + And let your excellency propound a means, + In which I may but give the least assistance, + That may restore you, to that you were born to, + (Though it call on the anger of the King, + Or, (what's more deadly) all his Minion + _Photinus_ can do to me) I, unmov'd, + Offer my throat to serve you: ever provided, + It bear some probable shew to be effected. + To lose my self upon no ground, were madness, + Not loyal duty. + + _Cleo._ Stand off: to thee alone, + I will discover what I dare not trust + My Sister with, _Caesar_ is amorous, + And taken more with the title of a Queen, + Than feature or proportion, he lov'd _Eunoe_, + A _Moor_, deformed too, I have heard, that brought + No other object to inflame his blood, + But that her Husband was a King, on both + He did bestow rich presents; shall I then, + That with a princely birth, bring beauty with me, + That know to prize my self at mine own rate, + Despair his favour? art thou mine? + + _Ap._ I am. + + _Cleo._ I have found out a way shall bring me to him, + Spight of _Photinus_ watches; if I prosper, + (As I am confident I shall) expect + Things greater than thy wishes; though I purchase + His grace with loss of my virginity, + It skills not, if it bring home Majesty. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_ACTUS SECUNDUS. SCENA PRIMA._ + + _Enter_ Septimius, _with a head_, Achillas, _Guard._ + + _Sep._ 'Tis here, 'tis done, behold you fearfull viewers, + Shake, and behold the model of the world here, + The pride, and strength, look, look again, 'tis finish'd; + That, that whole Armies, nay whole nations, + Many and mighty Kings, have been struck blind at, + And fled before, wing'd with their fears and terrours, + That steel war waited on, and fortune courted, + That high plum'd honour built up for her own; + Behold that mightiness, behold that fierceness, + Behold that child of war, with all his glories; + By this poor hand made breathless, here (my _Achillas_) + _Egypt_, and _Caesar_, owe me for this service, + And all the conquer'd Nations. + + _Ach._ Peace _Septimius_, + Thy words sound more ungratefull than thy actions, + Though sometimes safety seek an instrument + Of thy unworthy nature, thou (loud boaster) + Think not she is bound to love him too, that's barbarous. + Why did not I, if this be meritorious, + And binds the King unto me, and his bounties, + Strike this rude stroke? I'le tell thee (thou poor _Roman_) + It was a sacred head, I durst not heave at, + Not heave a thought. + + _Sep._ It was. + + _Ach._ I'le tell thee truely, + And if thou ever yet heard'st tell of honour, + I'le make thee blush: It was thy General's; + That mans that fed thee once, that mans that bred thee, + The air thou breath'dst was his; the fire that warm'd thee, + From his care kindled ever, nay, I'le show thee, + (Because I'le make thee sensible of the business, + And why a noble man durst not touch at it) + There was no piece of Earth, thou putst thy foot on + But was his conquest; and he gave thee motion. + He triumph'd three times, who durst touch his person? + The very walls of _Rome_ bow'd to his presence, + Dear to the Gods he was, to them that fear'd him + A fair and noble Enemy. Didst thou hate him? + And for thy love to _Caesar_, sought his ruine? + Arm'd in the red _Pharsalian_ fields, _Septimius_, + Where killing was in grace, and wounds were glorious, + Where Kings were fair competitours for honour, + Thou shouldst have come up to him, there have fought him, + There, Sword to Sword. + + _Sep._ I kill'd him on commandment, + If Kings commands be fair, when you all fainted, + When none of you durst look-- + + _Ach._ On deeds so barbarous, + What hast thou got? + + _Sep._ The Kings love, and his bounty, + The honour of the service, which though you rail at, + Or a thousand envious souls fling their foams on me, + Will dignifie the cause, and make me glorious: + And I shall live. + + _Ach._ A miserable villain, + What reputation, and reward belongs to it + Thus (with the head) I seize on, and make mine; + And be not impudent to ask me why, Sirrah, + Nor bold to stay, read in mine eyes the reason: + The shame and obloquy I leave thine own, + Inherit those rewards, they are fitter for thee, + Your oyl's spent, and your snuff stinks: go out basely. + + [_Exit._ + + _Sep._ The King will yet consider. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus. + + _Achil._ Here he comes Sir. + + _Ach._ Yet if it be undone: hear me great Sir, + If this inhumane stroak be yet unstrucken, + If that adored head be not yet sever'd + From the most noble Body, weigh the miseries, + The desolations that this great Eclipse works, + You are young, be provident: fix not your Empire + Upon the Tomb of him will shake all _Egypt_, + Whose warlike groans will raise ten thousand Spirits, + (Great as himself) in every hand a thunder; + Destructions darting from their looks, and sorrows + That easy womens eyes shall never empty. + + _Pho._ You have done well; and 'tis done, see _Achillas_, + And in his hand the head. + + _Ptol._ Stay come no nearer, + Me thinks I feel the very earth shake under me, + I do remember him, he was my guardian, + Appointed by the Senate to preserve me: + What a full Majesty sits in his face yet? + + _Pho._ The King is troubled: be not frighted Sir, + Be not abus'd with fears; his death was necessary, + If you consider, Sir, most necessary, + Not to be miss'd: and humbly thank great _Isis_, + He came so opportunely to your hands; + Pity must now give place to rules of safety. + Is not victorious _Caesar_ new arriv'd, + And enter'd _Alexandria_, with his friends, + His _Navy_ riding by to wait his charges? + Did he not beat this _Pompey_, and pursu'd him? + Was not this great man, his great enemy? + This Godlike vertuous man, as people held him, + But what fool dare be friend to flying vertue? + + _Enter_ Caesar, Anthony, Dolabella, Sceva. + + I hear their Trumpets, 'tis too late to stagger, + Give me the head, and be you confident: + Hail Conquerour, and head of all the world, + Now this head's off. + + _Caesar_. Ha? + + _Pho._ Do not shun me, _Caesar_, + From kingly _Ptolomy_ I bring this present, + The Crown, and sweat of thy _Pharsalian_ labour: + The goal and mark of high ambitious honour. + Before thy victory had no name, _Caesar_, + Thy travel and thy loss of blood, no recompence, + Thou dreamst of being worthy, and of war; + And all thy furious conflicts were but slumbers, + Here they take life: here they inherit honour, + Grow fixt, and shoot up everlasting triumphs: + Take it, and look upon thy humble servant, + With noble eyes look on the Princely _Ptolomy_, + That offers with this head (most mighty _Caesar_) + What thou would'st once have given for it, all _Egypt_. + + _Ach._ Nor do not question it (most royal Conquerour) + Nor dis-esteem the benefit that meets thee, + Because 'tis easily got, it comes the safer: + Yet let me tell thee (most imperious _Caesar_) + Though he oppos'd no strength of Swords to win this, + Nor labour'd through no showres of darts, and lances: + Yet here he found a fort, that faced him strongly, + An inward war: he was his Grand-sires Guest; + Friend to his Father, and when he was expell'd + And beaten from this Kingdom by strong hand, + And had none left him, to restore his honour, + No hope to find a friend, in such a misery; + Then in stept _Pompey_; took his feeble fortune: + Strengthen'd, and cherish'd it, and set it right again, + This was a love to _Caesar_. + + _Sceva._ Give me, hate, Gods. + + _Pho._ This _Caesar_ may account a little wicked, + But yet remember, if thine own hands, Conquerour, + Had fallen upon him, what it had been then? + If thine own sword had touch'd his throat, what that way! + He was thy Son in Law, there to be tainted, + Had been most terrible: let the worst be render'd, + We have deserv'd for keeping thy hands innocent. + + _Caesar._ Oh _Sceva, Sceva_, see that head: see Captains, + The head of godlike _Pompey_. + + _Sceva._ He was basely ruin'd, + But let the Gods be griev'd that suffer'd it, + And be you Caesar-- + + _Caesar._ Oh thou Conquerour, + Thou glory of the world once, now the pity: + Thou awe of Nations, wherefore didst thou fall thus? + What poor fate follow'd thee, and pluckt thee on + To trust thy sacred life to an _Egyptian_; + The life and light of _Rome_, to a blind stranger, + That honorable war ne'r taught a nobleness, + Nor worthy circumstance shew'd what a man was, + That never heard thy name sung, but in banquets; + And loose lascivious pleasures? to a Boy, + That had no faith to comprehend thy greatness, + No study of thy life to know thy goodness; + And leave thy Nation, nay, thy noble friend, + Leave him (distrusted) that in tears falls with thee? + (In soft relenting tears) hear me (great _Pompey_) + (If thy great spirit can hear) I must task thee: + Thou hast most unnobly rob'd me of my victory, + My love, and mercy. + + _Ant._ O how brave these tears shew! + How excellent is sorrow in an Enemy! + + _Dol._ Glory appears not greater than this goodness. + + _Caesar._ _Egyptians_, dare you think your high _Pyramides_, + Built to out-dare the Sun, as you suppose, + Where your unworthy Kings lye rak'd in ashes, + Are monuments fit for him? no, (brood of _Nilus_) + Nothing can cover his high fame, but Heaven; + No _Pyramides_ set off his memories, + But the eternal substance of his greatness + To which I leave him: take the head away, + And (with the body) give it noble burial, + Your Earth shall now be bless'd to hold a _Roman_, + Whose braverys all the worlds-Earth cannot ballance. + + _Sce._ If thou bee'st thus loving, I shall honour thee, + But great men may dissemble, 'tis held possible, + And be right glad of what they seem to weep for, + There are such kind of Philosophers; now do I wonder + How he would look if _Pompey_ were alive again, + But how he would set his face? + + _Caesar._ You look now, King, + And you that have been Agents in this glory, + For our especial favour? + + _Ptol._ We desire it. + + _Caesar._ And doubtless you expect rewards. + + _Sceva_. Let me give 'em: + I'le give 'em such as nature never dreamt of, + I'le beat him and his Agents (in a morter) + Into one man, and that one man I'le bake then. + + _Caesar_. Peace: I forgive you all, that's recompence: + You are young, and ignorant, that pleads your pardon, + And fear it may be more than hate provok'd ye, + Your Ministers, I must think, wanted judgment, + And so they err'd: I am bountiful to think this; + Believe me most bountiful; be you most thankful, + That bounty share amongst ye: if I knew + What to send you for a present, King of _Egypt_, + (I mean a head of equal reputation + And that you lov'd) though it were your brightest Sisters, + (But her you hate) I would not be behind ye. + + _Ptol._ Hear me, (Great _Caesar_.) + + _Caes._ I have heard too much, + And study not with smooth shews to invade + My noble Mind as you have done my Conquest. + Ye are poor and open: I must tell ye roundly, + That Man that could not recompence the Benefits, + The great and bounteous services of _Pompey_, + Can never dote upon the Name of _Caesar_; + Though I had hated _Pompey_, and allow'd his ruine, + [I gave you no commission to performe it:] + Hasty to please in Blood are seldome trusty; + And but I stand inviron'd with my Victories, + My Fortune never failing to befriend me, + My noble strengths, and friends about my Person, + I durst not try ye, nor expect: a Courtesie, + Above the pious love you shew'd to _Pompey_. + You have found me merciful in arguing with you; + Swords, Hangmen, Fires, Destructions of all natures, + Demolishments of Kingdoms, and whole Ruines + Are wont to be my Orators; turn to tears, + You wretched and poor seeds of Sun-burnt _Egypt_, + And now you have found the nature of a Conquerour, + That you cannot decline with all your flatteries, + That where the day gives light will be himself still, + Know how to meet his Worth with humane Courtesies, + Go, and embalm those bones of that great Souldier; + Howl round about his Pile, fling on your Spices, + Make a _Sabaean_ Bed, and place this Phoenix + Where the hot Sun may emulate his Vertues, + And draw another _Pompey_ from his ashes + Divinely great, and fix him 'mongst the Worthies. + + _Ptol._ We will do all. + + _Caes._ You have rob'd him of those tears + His Kindred and his Friends kept sacred for him; + The Virgins of their Funeral Lamentations: + And that kind Earth that thought to cover him, + (His Countries Earth) will cry out 'gainst your Cruelty, + And weep unto the Ocean for revenge, + Till _Nilus_ raise his seven heads and devour ye; + My grief has stopt the rest: when _Pompey_ liv'd + He us'd you nobly, now he is dead use him so. [_Exit._ + + _Ptol._ Now, where's your confidence? your aim (_Photinus_) + The Oracles, and fair Favours from the Conquerour + You rung into mine Ears? how stand I now? + You see the tempest of his stern displeasure, + The death of him you urged a Sacrifice + To stop his Rage, presaging a full ruine; + Where are your Counsels now? + + _Acho._ I told you, Sir, + (And told the truth) what danger would flye after; + And though an Enemy, I satisfied you + He was a _Roman_, and the top of Honour; + And howsoever this might please Great _Caesar_, + I told ye that the foulness of his Death, + The impious baseness-- + + _Pho._ Peace, you are a Fool, + Men of deep ends must tread as deep ways to 'em; + _Caesar_ I know is pleas'd, and for all his sorrows + (Which are put on for forms and meer dissemblings) + I am confident he's glad; to have told ye so, + And thank ye outwardly, had been too open, + And taken from the Wisedom of a Conquerour. + Be confident and proud ye have done this service; + Ye have deserv'd, and ye will find it highly: + Make bold use of this benefit, and be sure + You keep your Sister, (the high-soul'd Cleopatra) + Both close and short enough, she may not see him; + The rest, if I may counsel, Sir-- + + _Ptol._ Do all; + For in thy faithful service rests my safety. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENE II. + + _Enter_ Septimius. + + _Sept._ Here's a strange alteration in the Court; + Mens Faces are of other setts and motions, + Their minds of subtler stuff; I pass by now + As though I were a Rascal, no man knows me, + No Eye looks after; as I were a Plague + Their doors shut close against me; and I wondred at + Because I have done a meritorious Murther; + Because I have pleas'd the Time, does the Time plague me? + I have known the day they would have hug'd me for it, + For a less stroke than this have done me Reverence; + Open'd their Hearts and secret Closets to me, + Their Purses, and their Pleasures, and bid me wallow. + I now perceive the great Thieves eat the less, + And the huge Leviathans of Villany + Sup up the merits, nay the men and all + That do them service, and spowt 'em out again + Into the air, as thin and unregarded + As drops of Water that are lost i'th' Ocean: + I was lov'd once for swearing, and for drinking, + And for other principal Qualities that became me, + Now a foolish unthankful Murther has undone me, + If my Lord _Photinus_ be not merciful + + _Enter_ Photinus. + + That set me on; And he comes, now Fortune. + + _Pho._ Caesars unthankfulness a little stirs me, + A little frets my bloud; take heed, proud _Roman_, + Provoke me not, stir not mine anger farther; + I may find out a way unto thy life too, + (Though arm'd in all thy Victories) and seize it. + A Conquerour has a heart, and I may hit it. + + _Sept_. May it please your Lordship? + + _Pho._ O _Septimius_! + + _Sept._ Your [Lordship] knows my wrongs. + + _Pho._ Wrongs? + + _Sept._ Yes, my Lord, + How the Captain of the Guard, _Achillas_, slights me. + + _Pho._ Think better of him, he has much befriended thee, + Shew'd thee much love in taking the head from thee. + The times are alter'd (Souldier) _Caesar's_ angry, + And our design to please him lost and perish'd; + Be glad thou art unnam'd, 'tis not worth the owning; + Yet, that thou maist be useful-- + + _Sept._ Yes, my Lord, + I shall be ready. + + _Pho._ For I may employ thee + To take a rub or two out of my way, + As time shall serve, say that it be a Brother? + Or a hard Father? + + _Sept._ 'Tis most necessary, + A Mother, or a Sister, or whom you please, Sir. + + _Pho._ Or to betray a noble Friend? + + _Sept._ 'Tis all one. + + _Pho._ I know thou wilt stir for Gold. + + _Sept._ 'Tis all my motion. + + _Pho._ There, take that for thy service, and farewel; + I have greater business now. + + _Sept._ I am still your own, Sir. + + _Pho._ One thing I charge thee, see me no more, _Septimius_, + Unless I send. [_Exit._ + + _Sept._ I shall observe your hour. + So, this brings something in the mouth, some savour; + This is the Lord I serve, the Power I worship, + My Friends, Allies, and here lies my Allegiance. + Let People talk as they please of my rudeness, + And shun me for my deed; bring but this to 'em, + (Let me be damn'd for blood) yet still I am honourable, + This God creates new tongues, and new affections; + And though I had kill'd my Father, give me Gold + I'll make men swear I have done a pious Sacrifice; + Now I will out-brave all; make all my Servants, + And my brave deed shall be writ in Wine, for vertuous. [_Exit._ + + + +SCENE III. + + _Enter_ Caesar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva. + + _Caes._ Keep strong Guards, and with wary eyes (my friends) + There is no trusting to these base _Egyptians_; + They that are false to pious benefits, + And make compell'd necessities their faiths + Are Traitors to the gods. + + _Ant._ We'll call ashore + A Legion of the best. + + _Caes._ Not a Man, _Antony_, + That were to shew our fears, and dim our greatness: + No, 'tis enough my Name's ashore. + + _Sce._ Too much too, + A sleeping _Caesar_ is enough to shake them; + There are some two or three malicious Rascals + Train'd up in Villany, besides that _Cerberus_ + That _Roman_ Dog, that lick'd the blood of _Pompey_. + + _Dol._ 'Tis strange, a _Roman_ Souldier? + + _Sce._ You are cozen'd, + There be of us as be of all other Nations, + Villains, and Knaves; 'tis not the name contains him, + But the obedience; when that's once forgotten, + And Duty flung away, then welcome Devil. + _Photinus_ and _Achillas_, and this Vermine + That's now become a natural Crocodile + Must be with care observ'd. + + _Ant._ And 'tis well counsel'd + No Confidence, nor trust-- + + _Sce._ I'll trust the Sea first, + When with her hollow murmurs she invites me, + And clutches in her storms, as politick Lions + Conceal their Claws; I'll trust the Devil first. + + _Caes._ Go to your rests, and follow your own Wisedoms, + And leave me to my thoughts: pray no more complement, + Once more strong Watches. + + _Dol._ All shall be observ'd, Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Caes._ I am dull and heavy, yet I cannot sleep, + How happy was I in my lawful Wars, + In _Germany_, and _Gaul_, and _Britanny_ + When every night with pleasure I set down + What the day ministred! The sleep came sweetly: + But since I undertook this home-division, + This civil War, and past the _Rubicon_; + What have I done that speaks an ancient _Roman_? + A good, great man? I have enter'd _Rome_ by force, + And on her tender Womb (that gave me life) + Let my insulting Souldiers rudely trample, + The dear Veins of my Country I have open'd, + And sail'd upon the torrents that flow'd from her, + The bloody streams that in their confluence + Carried before 'em thousand desolations; + I rob'd the Treasury, and at one gripe + Snatch'd all the wealth, so many worthy triumphs + Plac'd there as sacred to the Peace of _Rome_; + I raz'd _Massilia_, in my wanton anger: + _Petreius_ and _Afranius_ I defeated: + _Pompey_ I overthrew: what did that get me? + The slubber'd Name of an authoriz'd Enemy. [_Noise within._ + I hear some Noise; they are the Watches sure. + What Friends have I ty'd fast by these ambitions? + _Cato_, the Lover of his Countries freedom, + Is now past into _Africk_ to affront me, + _Fuba_ (that kill'd my friend) is up in Arms too; + The Sons of _Pompey_ are Masters of the Sea, + And from the reliques of their scatter'd faction, + A new head's sprung; Say I defeat all these too; + I come home crown'd an honourable Rebel. + I hear the Noise still, and it still comes nearer; + Are the Guards fast? Who waits there? + + _Enter_ Sceva _with a Packet_, Cleopatra _in it._ + + _Sce._ Are ye awake Sir? + + _Caes._ I'th' name of Wonder. + + _Sce._ Nay, I am a Porter, + A strong one too, or else my sides would crack, Sir, + And my sins were as weighty, I should scarce walk with 'em. + + _Caes._ What hast thou there? + + _Sce._ Ask them which stay without, + And brought it hither, your Presence I deny'd 'em, + And put 'em by; took up the load my self, + They say 'tis rich, and valu'd at the Kingdome, + I am sure 'tis heavy; if you like to see it + You may: if not, I'll give it back. + + _Caes._ Stay _Sceva_, + I would fain see it. + + _Sce._ I'll begin to work then; + No doubt, to flatter ye they have sent ye something, + Of a rich value, Jewels, or some rich Treasure; + May be a Rogue within to do a mischief; + I pray you stand farther off, if there be villany, + Better my danger first; he shall 'scape hard too, + Ha! what art thou? + + _Caes._ Stand farther off, good _Sceva_, + What heavenly Vision! do I wake or slumber? + Farther off that hand, Friend. + + _Sce._ What Apparition? + What Spirit have I rais'd? sure 'tis a Woman, + She looks like one; now she begins to move too: + A tempting Devil, o' my life; go off, _Caesar_, + Bless thy self, off: a Bawd grown in mine old days? + Bawdry advanc'd upon my back? 'tis noble: + Sir, if you be a Souldier come no nearer, + She is sent to dispossess you of your honour, + A Spunge, a Spunge to wipe away your Victories: + And she would be cool'd, Sir, let the Souldiers trim her! + They'll give her that she came for, and dispatch her; + Be loyal to your self. Thou damned Woman, + Dost thou come hither with thy flourishes, + Thy flaunts, and faces to abuse mens manners? + And am I made the instrument of Bawdry? + I'll find a Lover for ye, one that shall hug ye. + + _Caes._ Hold, on thy life, and be more temperate, + Thou Beast. + + _Sce._ Thou Beast? + + _Caes._ Could'st thou be so inhumane, + So far from noble Men, to draw thy Weapon + Upon a thing divine? + + _Sce._ Divine, or humane, + They are never better pleas'd, nor more at hearts ease, + Than when we draw with full intent upon 'em. + + _Caes._ Move this way (Lady) + 'Pray ye let me speak to ye. + + _Sce._ And Woman, you had best stand. + + _Caes._ By the gods, + But that I see her here, and hope her mortal, + I should imagine some celestial sweetness, + The treasure of soft love. + + _Sce._ Oh, this sounds mangily, + Poorly, and scurvily in a Souldiers mouth: + You had best be troubled with the Tooth-ach too, + For Lovers ever are, and let your Nose drop + That your celestial Beauty may befriend ye; + At these years do you learn to be fantastical? + After so many bloody fields, a Fool? + She brings her Bed along too, she'll lose no time, + Carries her Litter to lye soft, do you see that? + Invites ye like a Gamester: note that impudence, + For shame reflect upon your self, your honour, + Look back into your noble parts, and blush: + Let not the dear sweat of the hot _Pharsalia_, + Mingle with base _Embraces_; am I he + That have receiv'd so many wounds for _Caesar_? + Upon my Target groves of darts still growing? + Have I endur'd all hungers, colds, distresses, + And (as I had been bred that Iron that arm'd me) + Stood out all weathers, now to curse my fortune? + To ban the blood I lost for such a General? + + _Caesar_. Offend no more: be gone. + + _Sce._ I will, and leave ye, + Leave ye to womens wars, that will proclaim ye: + You'l conquer _Rome_ now, and the Capitol + With Fans, and Looking-glasses, farewel Caesar. + + _Cleo._ Now I am private Sir, I dare speak to ye: + But thus low first, for as a God I honour ye. + + _Sce._ Lower you'l be anon. + + _Caesar_. Away. + + _Sce._ And privater, + For that you covet all. [_Exit._ + + _Caesar_. Tempt me no farther. + + _Cleo._ Contemn me not, because I kneel thus, _Caesar_, + I am a Queen, and coheir to this country, + The Sister to the mighty _Ptolomy_, + Yet one distress'd, that flyes unto thy justice, + One that layes sacred hold on thy protection + As on an holy Altar, to preserve me. + + _Caesar_. Speak Queen of beauty, and stand up. + + _Cleo._ I dare not, + 'Till I have found that favour in thine eyes, + That godlike great humanity to help me, + Thus, to thy knees must I grow (sacred _Caesar_,) + And if it be not in thy will, to right me, + And raise me like a Queen from my sad ruines, + If these soft tears cannot sink to thy pity, + And waken with their murmurs thy compassions; + Yet for thy nobleness, for vertues sake, + And if thou beest a man, for despis'd beauty, + For honourable conquest, which thou doat'st on, + Let not those cankers of this flourishing Kingdom, + _Photinus_, and _Achillas_, (the one an Eunuch, + The other a base bondman) thus raign over me. + Seize my inheritance, and leave my Brother + Nothing of what he should be, but the Title, + As thou art wonder of the world. + + _Caesar_. Stand up then + And be a Queen, this hand shall give it to ye, + Or choose a greater name, worthy my bounty: + A common love makes Queens: choose to be worshipped, + To be divinely great, and I dare promise it; + A suitor of your sort, and blessed sweetness, + That hath adventur'd thus to see great _Caesar_, + Must never be denied, you have found a patron + That dare not in his private honour suffer + So great a blemish to the Heaven of beauty: + The God of love would clap his angry wings, + And from his singing bow let flye those arrows + Headed with burning griefs, and pining sorrows, + Should I neglect your cause, would make me monstrous, + To whom and to your service I devote me. + + _Enter_ Sceva. + + _Cleo._ He is my conquest now, and so I'le work him, + The conquerour of the world will I lead captive. + + _Sce._ Still with this woman? tilting still with Babies? + As you are honest think the Enemy, + Some valiant Foe indeed now charging on ye: + Ready to break your ranks, and fling these-- + + _Caesar_. Hear me, + But tell me true, if thou hadst such a treasure, + (And as thou art a Souldier, do not flatter me) + Such a bright gem, brought to thee, wouldst thou not + Most greedily accept? + + _Sce._ Not as an Emperour, + A man that first should rule himself, then others; + As a poor hungry Souldier, I might bite, Sir, + Yet that's a weakness too: hear me, thou Tempter: + And hear thou _Caesar_ too, for it concerns thee, + And if thy flesh be deaf, yet let thine honour, + The soul of a commander, give ear to me, + Thou wanton bane of war, thou guilded Lethargy, + In whose embraces, ease (the rust of Arms) + And pleasure, (that makes Souldiers poor) inhabites. + + _Caesar_. Fye, thou blasphem'st. + + _Sce._ I do, when she is a goddess. + Thou melter of strong minds, dar'st thou presume + To smother all his triumphs, with thy vanities, + And tye him like a slave, to thy proud beauties? + To thy imperious looks? that Kings have follow'd + Proud of their chains? have waited on? I shame Sir. [_Exit._ + + _Caesar_. Alas thou art rather mad: take thy rest _Sceva_, + Thy duty makes thee erre, but I forgive thee: + Go, go I say, shew me no disobedience: + 'Tis well, farewel, the day will break dear Lady, + My Souldiers will come in; please you retire, + And think upon your servant. + + _Cleo._ Pray you Sir, know me, + And what I am. + + _Caesar_. The greater, I more love ye, + And you must know me too. + + _Cleo._ So far as modesty, + And majesty gives leave Sir, ye are too violent. + + _Caesar_. You are too cold to my desires. + + _Cleo._ Swear to me, + And by your self (for I hold that oath sacred) + You will right me as a Queen-- + + _Caesar_. These lips be witness, + And if I break that oath-- + + _Cleo._ You make me blush Sir, + And in that blush interpret me. + + _Caesar_. I will do, + Come let's go in, and blush again: this one word, + You shall believe. + + _Cleo._ I must, you are a conquerour. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +ACTUS TERTIUS. SCENA PRIMA. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Photinus. + + _Pho._ Good Sir, but hear. + + _Ptol._ No more, you have undone me, + That, that I hourly fear'd, is fain upon me, + And heavily, and deadly. + + _Pho._ Hear a remedy. + + _Ptol._ A remedy now the disease is ulcerous? + And has infected all? your secure negligence + Has broke through all the hopes I have, and ruin'd me: + My Sister is with _Caesar_, in his chamber, + All night she has been with him; and no doubt + Much to her honour. + + _Pho._ Would that were the worst, Sir, + That will repair it self: but I fear mainly, + She has made her peace with _Caesar_. + + _Ptol._ 'Tis most likely, + And what am I then? + + _Pho._ 'Plague upon that Rascal + _Apollod[or]us_, under whose command, + Under whose eye-- + + _Enter_ Achillas. + + _Ptol._ Curse on you all, ye are wretches. + + _Pho._ 'Twas providently done, _Achillas_. + + _Achil._ Pardon me. + + _Pho._ Your guards were rarely wise, and wondrous watchfull. + + _Achil._ I could not help it, if my life had lain for't, + Alas, who would suspect a pack of bedding, + Or a small Truss of houshold furniture? + And as they said, for Caesars use: or who durst + (Being for his private chamber) seek to stop it? + I was abus'd. + + _Enter_ Achoreus. + + _Ach._ 'Tis no hour now for anger: + No wisdom to debate with fruitless choler, + Let us consider timely what we must do, + Since she is flown to his protection, + From whom we have no power to sever her, + Nor force conditions-- + + _Ptol._ Speak (good _Achoreus_) + + _Ach._ Let indirect and crooked counsels vanish, + And straight, and fair directions-- + + _Pho._ Speak your mind Sir. + + _Ach._ Let us choose _Caesar_, (and endear him to us,) + An Arbitrator in all differences + Betwixt you, and your Sister; this is safe now: + And will shew off, most honourable. + + _Pho._ Base, + Most base and poor; a servile, cold submission: + Hear me, and pluck your hearts up, like stout Counsellours, + Since we are sensible this _Caesar_ loathes us, + And have begun our fortune with great Pompey, + Be of my mind. + + _Ach._ 'Tis most uncomely spoken, + And if I say most bloodily, I lye not: + The law of hospitality it poysons, + And calls the Gods in question that dwell in us, + Be wise O King. + + _Ptol._ I will be: go my counsellour, + To _Caesar_ go, and do my humble service: + To my fair Sister my commends negotiate, + And here I ratifie what e're thou treat'st on. + + _Ach._ Crown'd with fair peace, I go. [_Exit._ + + _Ptol._ My love go with thee, + And from my love go you, you cruel vipers: + You shall know now I am no ward, _Photinus_. [_Exit._ + + _Pho._ This for our service? + Princes do their pleasures, + And they that serve obey in all disgraces: + The lowest we can fall to, is our graves, + There we shall know no diffrence: heark _Achillas_, + I may do something yet, when times are ripe, + To tell this raw unthankful! King. + + _Achil._ _Photinus_, + What e're it be I shall make one: and zealously: + For better dye attempting something nobly, + Than fall disgraced. + + _Pho._ Thou lov'st me and I thank thee. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Antony, Dolabella, Sceva. + + _Dol._ Nay there's no rowsing him: he is bewitch'd sure, + His noble blood curdled, and cold within him; + Grown now a womans warriour. + + _Sce._ And a tall one: + Studies her fortifications, and her breaches, + And how he may advance his ram to batter + The Bullwork of her chastitie. + + _Ant._ Be not too angry, + For by this light, the woman's a rare woman, + A Lady of that catching youth, and beauty, + That unmatch'd sweetness-- + + _Dol._ But why should he be fool'd so? + Let her be what she will, why should his wisdom, + His age, and honour-- + + _Ant._ Say it were your own case, + Or mine, or any mans, that has heat in him: + 'Tis true at this time when he has no promise + Of more security than his sword can cut through, + I do not hold it so discreet: but a good face, Gentlemen, + And eyes that are the winningst Orators: + A youth that opens like perpetual spring, + And to all these, a tongue that can deliver + The Oracles of Love-- + + _Sce._ I would you had her, + With all her Oracles, and Miracles, + She were fitter for your turn. + + _Ant._ Would I had, _Sceva_, + With all her faults too: let me alone to mend 'em, + O'that condition I made thee mine heir. + + _Sce._ I had rather have your black horse, than your harlots. + + _Dol._ _Caesar_ writes _Sonnetts_ now, the sound of war + Is grown too boystrous for his mouth: he sighs too. + + _Sce._ And learns to fiddle most melodiously, + And sings, 'twould make your ears prick up, to hear him Gent. + Shortly she'l make him spin: and 'tis thought + He will prove an admirable maker of Bonelace, + And what a rare gift will that be in a General! + + _Ant._ I would he could abstain. + + _Sce._ She is a witch sure, + And works upon him with some damn'd inchantment. + + _Dol._ How cunning she will carry her behaviours, + And set her countenance in a thousand postures, + To catch her ends! + + _Sce._ She will be sick, well, sullen, + Merry, coy, over-joy'd, and seem to dye + All in one half hour, to make an asse of him: + I make no doubt she will be drunk too damnably, + And in her drink will fight, then she fits him. + + _Ant._ That thou shouldst bring her in! + + _Sce._ 'Twas my blind fortune, + My Souldiers told me, by the weight 'twas wicked: + Would I had carried _Milo's_ Bull a furlong, + When I brought in this Cow-Calf: he has advanced me + From an old Souldier, to a bawd of memory: + O, that the Sons of _Pompey_ were behind him, + The honour'd _Cato_, and fierce _Juba_ with 'em, + That they might whip him from his whore, and rowze him: + That their fierce Trumpets, from his wanton trances, + Might shake him like an Earth-quake. + + _Enter_ Septimius. + + _Ant._ What's this fellow? + + _Dol._ Why, a brave fellow, if we judge men by their clothes. + + _Ant._ By my faith he is brave indeed: he's no commander? + + _Sce._ Yes, he has a _Roman_ face, he has been at fair wars + And plenteous too, and rich, his Trappings shew it. + + _Sep._ And they will not know me now, they'l never know me. + Who dare blush now at my acquaintance? ha? + Am I not totally a span-new Gallant, + Fit for the choycest eyes? have I not gold? + The friendship of the world? if they shun me now + (Though I were the arrantest rogue, as I am well forward) + Mine own curse, and the Devils too light on me. + + _Ant._ Is't not _Septimius_? + + _Sce._ Yes. + + _Dol._ He that kill'd _Pompey_? + + _Sce._ The same Dog, Scab; that guilded botch, that rascal. + + _Dol._ How glorious villany appears in _Egypt_! + + _Sep._ Gallants, and Souldiers, sure they do admire me. + + _Sce._ Stand further off, thou stinkest. + + _Sep._ A likely matter: + These Cloaths smell mustily, do they not, Gallants? + They stink, they stink, alas poor things, contemptible. + By all the Gods in _Egypt_, the perfumes + That went to trimming these cloathes, cost me-- + + _Sce._ Thou stinkest still. + + _Sep._ The powdering of this head too-- + + _Sce._ If thou hast it, + I'le tell thee all the Gumms in sweet _Arabia_ + Are not sufficient, were they burnt about thee, + To purge the scent of a rank Rascal from thee. + + _Ant._ I smell him now: fie, how the Knave perfumes him, + How strong he scents of Traitor! + + _Dol._ You had an ill Millener, + He laid too much of the Gum of Ingratitude + Upon your Coat, you should have washt off that Sir, + Fie, how it choaks! too little of your loyaltie, + Your honesty, your faith, that are pure Ambers; + I smell the rotten smell of a hired Coward, + A dead Dog is sweeter. + + _Sep._ Ye are merry Gentlemen, + And by my troth, such harmless mirth takes me too, + You speak like good blunt Souldiers; and 'tis well enough: + But did you live at Court, as I do, Gallants, + You would refine, and learn an apter language; + I have done ye simple service on your _Pompey_, + You might have lookt him yet this brace of twelve months + And hunted after him, like foundred Beagles, + Had not this fortunate hand-- + + _Ant._ He brags on't too: + By the good Gods, rejoyces in't; thou wretch + Thou most contemptible Slave. + + _Sce._ Dog, mangy Mongrel, + Thou murdring mischief, in the shape of Souldier + To make all Souldiers hatefull; thou disease + That nothing but the Gallows can give ease to.-- + + _Dol._ Thou art so impudent, that I admire thee, + And know not what to say. + + _Sep._ I know your anger + And why you prate thus: I have found your melancholy: + Ye all want mony, and you are liberal Captains, + And in this want will talk a little desperately: + Here's gold, come share; I love a brave Commander: + And be not peevish, do as _Caesar_ does: + He's merry with his wench now, be you jovial, + And let's all laugh and drink: would he have partners? + I do consider all your wants, and weigh 'em, + He has the Mistris, you shall have the maids, + I'le bring 'em to ye, to your arms. + + _Ant._ I blush, + All over me, I blush, and sweat to hear him: + Upon my conscience, if my arms were on now + Through them I should blush too: pray ye let's be walking. + + _Sce._ Yes, yes: but e're we goe, I'le leave this lesson, + And let him study it: first Rogue, then Pander, + Next Devil that will be; get thee from mens presence, + And where the name of Souldier has been heard of + Be sure thou live not: to some hungry desert + Where thou canst meet with nothing but thy conscience, + And that in all the shapes of all thy vill[anie]s + Attend thee still, where bruit Beasts will abhor thee, + And even the Sun will shame to give thee light, + Goe hide thy head: or if thou think'st it fitter + Goe hang thy self. + + _Dol._ Hark to that clause. + + _Sce._ And that speedily, + That nature may be eas'd of such a Monster. [_Exit._ + + _Sep._ Yet all this moves not me: nor reflects on me: + I keep my gold still, and my confidence, + Their want of breeding makes these fellows murmur, + Rude valors, so I let 'em pass; rude honours: + There is a wench yet, that I know, affects me + And company for a King: a young plump villain, + That when she sees this gold, she'l leap upon me. + + _Enter_ Eros. + + And here she comes: I am sure of her at midnight, + My pretty _Eros_ welcom. + + _Eros_. I have business. + + _Sep._ Above my love, thou canst not. + + _Eros_. Yes indeed Sir, + Far, far above. + + _Sep._ Why, why so coy? 'pray ye tell me + We are alone. + + _Eros_. I am much asham'd we are so. + + _Sep._ You want a new Gown now, & a handsom Petticoat, + A Skarf, and some odd toyes: I have gold here ready, + Thou shal[t] have any thing. + + _Eros_. I want your absence: + Keep on your way, I care not for your company. + + _Sep._ How? how? you are very short: do you know me _Eros_? + And what I have been to ye? + + _Eros_. Yes I know ye: + And I hope I shall forget ye: Whilst you were honest + I lov'd ye too. + + _Sep._ Honest? come prethee kiss me. + + _Eros_. I kiss no knaves, no Murderers, no Beasts, + No base betrayers of those men that fed 'em, + I hate their looks; and though I may be wanton, + I scorn to nourish it with bloody purchase, + Purchase so foully got; I pray ye unhand me + I had rather touch the plague, than one unworthy: + Goe seek some Mistris that a horse may marry, + And keep her company, she is too good for ye. [_Exit._ + + _Sep._ Marry this goes near; now I perceive I am hatefull, + When this light stuff can distinguish, it grows dangerous, + For mony, seldom they refuse a Leper: + But sure I am more odious, more diseas'd too: + + _Enter three lame_ Souldiers. + + It sits cold here; what are these? three poor Souldiers? + Both poor and lame: their misery may make 'em + A little look upon me, and adore me, + If these will keep me company, I am made yet. + + _1 Sol._ The pleasure _Caesar_ sleeps in, makes us miserable, + We are forgot, our maims and dangers laugh'd at; + He Banquets, and we beg. + + _2 Sol._ He was not wont + To let poor Souldiers that have spent their Fortunes, + Their Bloods, and limbs, walk up and down like vagabonds. + + _Sep._ Save ye good Souldiers: good poor men, heaven help ye: + You have born the brunt of war, and shew the story, + + _1 Sol._ Some new commander sure. + + _Sep._ You look (my good friends) + By your thin faces, as you would be Suitors. + + _2 Sol._ To _Caesar_, for our means, Sir. + + _Sep._ And 'tis fit Sir. + + _3 Sol._ We are poor men, and long forgot. + + _Sep._ I grieve for it: + Good Souldiers should have good rewards, and favours, + I'le give up your petitions, for I pity ye, + And freely speak to _Caesar_. + + _All_. O we honour ye. + + _1 Sol._ A good man sure ye are: the Gods preserve ye. + + _Sep._ And to relieve your wants the while, hold Soldiers, + Nay 'tis no dream: 'tis good gold: take it freely, + 'Twill keep ye in good heart. + + _2 Sol._ Now goodness quit ye. + + _Sep._ I'le be a friend to your afflictions, + And eat, and drink with ye too, and we'l be merry: + And every day I'le see ye. + + _1 Sol._ You are a Souldier, + And one sent from the Gods, I think. + + _Sep._ I'le cloth ye, + Ye are lame, and then provide good lodging for ye: + And at my Table, where no want shall meet ye. + + _Enter_ Sceva. + + _All_. Was never such a man. + + _1 Sold._ Dear honour'd Sir, + Let us but know your name, that we may worship ye. + + _2 Sold._ That we may ever thank. + + _Sep._ Why, call me any thing, + No matter for my name, that may betray me. + + _Sce._ A cunning thief, call him _Septimius_, Souldiers, + The villain that kill'd _Pompey_. + + _All_. How? + + _Sce._ Call him the shame of men. [_Exit._ + + _1 Sold._ O that this mony + Were weight enough to break thy brains out: fling all: + And fling our curses next: let them be mortal, + Out bloody wolf, dost thou come guilded over, + And painted with thy charitie, to poyson us? + + _2 Sold._ I know him now: may never Father own thee, + But as a monstrous birth shun thy base memory: + And if thou hadst a Mother (as I cannot + Believe thou wert a natural Burden) let her womb + Be curs'd of women for a bed of vipers. + + _3 Sol._ Me thinks the ground shakes to devour this rascal, + And the kind air turns into foggs and vapours, + Infectious mists, to crown his villanies. + Thou maist go wander, like a thing heaven hated. + + _1 Sold._ And valiant minds hold poysonous to remember. + The Hangman will not keep thee company, + He has an honourable house to thine, + No, not a thief though thou couldst save his life for't + Will eat thy bread, nor one, for thirst starv'd, drink with thee. + + _2 Sol._ Thou art no company for an honest dog, + And so we'l leave thee to a ditch (thy destiny.) [_Exeunt._ + + _Sep._ Contemn'd of all? and kickt too? now I find it; + My valour's fled too, with mine honesty, + For since I would be knave I must be Coward: + This 'tis to be a Traitor, and betrayer. + What a deformity dwells round about me! + How monstrous shews that man, that is ungratefull! + I am afraid the very beasts will tear me, + Inspir'd with what I have done: the winds will blast me: + Now I am paid, and my reward dwells in me, + The wages of my fact, my soul's opprest; + Honest and noble minds, you find most rest. [_Exit._ + + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Photinus, Achillas. + + _Ptol._ I have commanded, and it shall be so, + A preparation I have set o' foot, + Worthy the friendship and the fame of _Caesar_, + My Sisters favours shall seem poor and wither'd: + Nay she her self, (trim'd up in all her beautys) + Compar'd to what I'le take his eyes withall, + Shall be a dream. + + _Pho._ Do you mean to shew the glory, + And wealth of _Egypt_? + + _Ptol._ Yes: and in that lustre, + _Rome_ shall appear in all her famous Conquests, + And all her riches of no note unto it. + + _Ach._ Now you are reconcil'd to your fair Sister, + Take heed Sir, how you step into a danger: + A danger of this precipice: but note Sir, + For what _Rome_ ever rais'd her mighty armies; + First for ambition, then for wealth: 'tis madness, + Nay more, a secure impotence, to tempt + An armed Guest: feed not an eye, that conquers, + Nor teach a fortunate sword the way to be covetous. + + _Ptol._ Ye judge amiss, and far too wide to alter me, + Yet all be ready, as I gave direction: + The secret way of all our wealth appearing + Newly, and handsomely: and all about it: + No more disswading: 'tis my will. + + _Ach._ I grieve for't. + + _Ptol._ I will dazel _Caesar_, with excess of glory. + + _Pho._ I fear you'l curse your will, we must obey ye. [_Exit._ + + + +SCENA IV. + + _Enter_ Caesar, Antony, Dolabella, Sceva, _above._ + + _Caesar_. I wonder at the glory of this Kingdom, + And the most bounteous preparation, + Still as I pass, they court me with. + + _Sceva_. I'le tell ye: + In _Gaul_, and _Germany_, we saw such visions, + And stood not to admire 'em, but possess 'em: + When they are ours, they are worth our admiration. + + _Enter_ Cleopatra. + + _Ant._ The young Queen comes: give room. + + _Caesar_. Welcom (my dearest) + Come bless my side. + + _Sceva_. I marry: here's a wonder, + As she appears now, I am no true Souldier, + If I be not readie to recant. + + _Cleo._ Be merry Sir, + My Brother will be proud to do you honour + That now appears himself. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Achillas, Photinus, Apollodorus. + + _Pto._ Haile to great _Caesar_ + My Royal Guest, first I will feast thine eyes + With wealthy _AEgypts_ store, and then thy palate, + And wait my self upon thee. [_Treasure brought in._ + + _Caesar_. What rich Service! + What mines of treasure! + + _Cleo._ My _Caesar_, + What do you admire? pray ye turn, and let me talk to ye. + Have ye forgot me Sir? how, a new object? + Am I grown old o'th' sudden, _Caesar_? + + _Caesar_. Tell me + From whence comes all this wealth? + + _Cleo._ Is your eye that way? + And all my Beauties banisht? + + _Ptol._ I'le tell thee _Caesar_, + We owe for all this wealth to the old _Nilus_: + We need no dropping rain to cheer the husband-man, + Nor Merchant that ploughs up the Sea, to seek us; + Within the wealthy womb of reverent _Nilus_, + All this is nourish'd: who to do thee honour, + Comes to discover his seven Deities, + (His conceal'd heads) unto thee: see with pleasure. + + _Caesar_. The matchless wealth of this Land! + + _Cleo._ Come, ye shall hear me. + + _Caesar_. Away: let me imagine. + + _Cleo._ How? frown on me? + The eyes of _Caesar_ wrapt in storms? + + _Caesar_. I am sorry: + But let me think-- + +_MUSTEK, SONG._ + + _Enter_ Isis, _and three Labourers._ + + _Isis, the Goddess of this Land,_ + _Bids thee (great Caesar) understand_ + _And mark our Customes, and first know,_ + _With greedy eyes these watch the flow_ + _Of plenteous Nilus: when he comes,_ + _With Songs, with Daunces, Timbrels, Drums_ + _They entertain him, cut his way,_ + _And give his proud Heads leave to play:_ + _Nilus himself shall rise, and show_ + _His matchless wealth in Over-flow._ + +_LABOURERS SONG._ + + _Come let us help the reverend Nile,_ + _He's very old (alas the while)_ + _Let us dig him easie wayes,_ + _And prepare a thousand Playes:_ + _To delight his streams let's sing_ + _A loud welcom to our Spring._ + _This way let his curling Heads_ + _Fall into our new made Beds._ + _This way let his wanton spawns,_ + _Frisky and glide it o're the Lawns._ + _This way profit comes, and gain:_ + _How he tumbles here amain!_ + _How his waters haste to fall_ + _Into our Channels! Labour all_ + _And let him in: Let Nilus flow,_ + _And perpetuall plenty show._ + _With Incense let us bless the brim,_ + _And as the wanton fishes swim,_ + _Let us Gums, and Garlands fling,_ + _And loud our Timbrels ring._ + _Come (old Father) come away,_ + _Our labour is our holy day._ + + Isis. _Here comes the aged River now_ + _With Garlands of great Pearl, his Brow_ + _Begirt and rounded: In his Flow_ + _All things take life; and all things grow._ + _A thousand wealthy Treasures still,_ + _To do him service at his will_ + _Follow his rising Flood, and pour_ + _Perpetuall blessings in our store._ + _Hear him: and next there will advance,_ + _His sacred Heads to tread a Dance,_ + _In honour of my Royal Guest,_ + _Mark them too: and you have a Feast._ + + _Cleo._ A little dross betray me? + + _Caesar_. I am asham'd I warr'd at home, (my friends) + When such wealth may be got abroad: what honour? + Nay everlasting glory had _Rome_ purchas'd, + Had she a just cause but to visit _AEgypt_? + +_NILUS_ SONG, _AND DANCE._ + + _Make room for my rich waters fall, and bless my Flood,_ + _Nilus comes flowing, to you all encrease and good._ + _Now the Plants and Flowers shall spring,_ + _And the merry Plough-man sing_ + _In my bidden waves I bring_ + _Bread, and wine, and every thing._ + _Let the Damsells sing me in:_ + _Sing aloud that I may rise:_ + _Your holy Feasts and hours begin,_ + _And each hand bring a Sacrifice._ + _Now my wanton Pearls I show_ + _That to Ladies fair necks grow._ + _Now my gold_ + _And treasures that can ne're be told,_ + _Shall bless this Land, by my rich Flow,_ + _And after this, to crown your Eyes,_ + _My hidden holy head arise._ + + _Caesar_. The wonder of this wealth so troubles me, + I am not well: good-night. + + _Sce._ I am glad ye have it: + Now we shall stir again. + + _Ptol._ Thou wealth, still haunt him. + + _Sce._ A greedy spirit set thee on: we are happy. + + _Ptol._ Lights: lights for _Caesar_, and attendance. + + _Cleo._ Well, + I shall yet find a time to tell thee _Caesar_, + Thou hast wrong'd her Love: the rest here. + + _Ptol._ Lights along still: + Musick, and Sacrifice to sleep for _Caesar_. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_ACTUS QUARTUS. SCENA PRIMA._ + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Photinus, Achillas, Achoreus. + + _Ach._ I told ye carefully, what this would prove to, + What this inestimable wealth and glory + Would draw upon ye: I advis'd your Majesty + Never to tempt a Conquering Guest: nor add + A bait, to catch a mind, bent by his Trade + To make the whole world his. + + _Pho._ I was not heard Sir: + Or what I said, lost, and contemn'd: I dare say, + (And freshly now) 'twas a poor weakness in ye, + A glorious Childishness: I watch'd his eye, + And saw how Faulcon-like it towr'd, and flew + Upon the wealthy Quarry: how round it mark'd it: + I observ'd his words, and to what it tended; + How greedily he ask'd from whence it came, + And what Commerce we held for such abundance: + The shew of _Nilus_, how he laboured at + To find the secret wayes the Song delivered. + + _Ach._ He never smil'd, I noted, at the pleasures, + But fixt his constant eyes upon the treasure; + I do not think his ears had so much leisure + After the wealth appear'd, to hear the Musique? + Most sure he has not slept since, his mind's troubled + With objects that would make their own still labour. + + _Pho._ Your Sister he ne're gaz'd on: that's a main note, + The prime beauty of the world had no power over him. + + _Ach._ Where was his mind the whilst? + + _Pho._ Where was your carefulness + To shew an armed thief the way to rob ye? + Nay, would you give him this, 'twill excite him + To seek the rest. Ambition feels no gift, + Nor knows no bounds, indeed ye have done most weakly. + + _Ptol._ Can I be too kind to my noble friend? + + _Pho._ To be unkind unto your noble self, but savours + Of indiscretion, and your friend has found it. + Had ye been train'd up in the wants and miseries + A souldier marches through, and known his temperance + In offer'd courtesies, you would have made + A wiser Master of your own, and stronger. + + _Ptol._ Why, should I give him all, he would return it: + 'Tis more to him, to make Kings. + + _Pho._ Pray be wiser, + And trust not with your lost wealth, your lov'd liberty. + To be a King still at your own discretion + Is like a King; to be at his, a vassail. + Now take good counsel, or no more take to ye + The freedom of a Prince. + + _Achil._ 'Twill be too late else: + For, since the Masque, he sent three of his Captains + (Ambitious as himself) to view again + The glory of your wealth. + + _Pho._ The next himself comes, + Not staying for your courtesie, and takes it. + + _Ptol._ What counsel, my _Achoreus_? + + _Ach._ I'le goe pray Sir, + (For that is best counsel now) the gods may help ye. [_Ex._ + + _Pho._ I found ye out a way but 'twas not credited, + A most secure way: whither will ye flye now? + + _Achil._ For when your wealth is gone, your power must follow. + + _Pho._ And that diminisht also, what's your life worth? + Who would regard it? + + _Ptol._ You say true. + + _Achil._ What eye + Will look upon King _Ptolomy_? if they do look, + It must be in scorn: + For a poor King is a monster; + What ear remember ye? 'twill be then a courtesie + (A noble one) to take your life too from ye: + But if reserv'd, you stand to fill a victory, + As who knows Conquerours minds? though outwardly + They bear fair streams. + O Sir, does this not shake ye? + If to be honyed on to these afflictions-- + + _Ptol._ I never will: I was a Fool. + + _Pho._ For then Sir + Your Countreys cause falls with ye too, and fetter'd: + All _AEgypt_ shall be plough'd up with dishonour. + + _Ptol._ No more: I am sensible: and now my spirit + Burns hot within me. + + _Achil._ Keep it warm and fiery. + + _Pho._ And last be counsel'd. + + _Ptol._ I will, though I perish. + + _Pho._ Goe in; we'l tell you all: and then we'l execute. + + [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Cleopatra, Arsino, Eros. + + _Ars._ You are so impatient. + + _Cleo._ Have I not cause? + Women of common Beauties, and low Births, + When they are slighted, are allow'd their angers, + Why should not I (a Princess) make him know + The baseness of his usage? + + _Ars._ Yes: 'tis fit: + But then again you know what man. + + _Cleo._ He is no man: + The shadow of a Greatness hangs upon him, + And not the vertue: he is no Conquerour, + H'as suffer'd under the base dross of Nature: + Poorly delivered up his power to wealth, + (The god of bed-rid men) taught his eyes treason + Against the truth of love: he has rais'd rebellion: + Defi'd his holy flames. + + _Eros._ He will fall back again, + And satisfie your Grace. + + _Cleo._ Had I been old, + Or blasted in my bud, he might have shew'd + Some shadow of dislike: But, to prefer + The lustre of a little art, _Arsino_, + And the poor glow-worm light of some faint Jewels, + Before the life of Love, and soul of Beauty, + Oh how it vexes me! he is no Souldier, + (All honourable Souldiers are Loves servants) + He is a Merchant; a meer wandring Merchant, + Servile to gain: he trades for poor Commodities, + And makes his Conquests, thefts; some fortunate Captains + That quarter with him, and are truly valiant, + Have flung the name of happy _Caesar_ on him, + Himself ne're won it: he is so base and covetous, + He'l sell his sword for gold. + + _Ars._ This is too bitter. + + _Cleo._ Oh I could curse my self, that was so foolish, + So fondly childish to believe his tongue, + His promising tongue, e're I could catch his temper, + I had trash enough to have cloy'd his eyes withal, + His covetous eyes; such as I scorn to tread on: + Richer than e're he saw yet, and more tempting; + Had I known he had stoop'd at that, I had sav'd mine honour, + I had been happy still: but let him take it, + And let him brag how poorly I am rewarded: + Let him goe conquer still weak wretched Ladies: + Love has his angry Quiver too, his deadly, + And when he finds scorn, armed at the strongest: + I am a fool to fret thus, for a fool: + An old blind fool too: I lose my health? I will not: + I will not cry: I will not honour him + With tears diviner than the gods he worships: + I will not take the pains to curse a poor thing. + + _Eros_. Doe not: you shall not need. + + _Cleo._ Would I were prisoner + To one I hate, that I might anger him, + I will love any man, to break the heart of him: + Any, that has the heart and will to kill him. + + _Ars._ Take some fair truce. + + _Cleo._ I will goe study mischief, + And put a look on, arm'd with all my cunnings, + Shall meet him like a Basilisque, and strike him: + Love, put destroying flames into mine eyes, + Into my smiles, deceits, that I may torture him, + That I may make him love to death, and laugh at him. + + _Enter_ Apollodorus. + + _Ap._ _Caesar_ commends his Service to your Grace. + + _Cleo._ His service? what's his service? + + _Eros_. Pray ye be patient, + The noble _Caesar_ loves still. + + _Cleo._ What's his will? + + _Ap._ He craves access unto your Highness. + + _Cleo._ No: + Say no: I will have none to trouble me. + + _Ars._ Good Sister. + + _Cleo._ None I say: I will be private. + Would thou hadst flung me into _Nilus_, keeper, + When first thou gav'st consent, to bring my body + To this unthankfull _Caesar_. + + _Ap._ 'Twas your will, Madam, + Nay more, your charge upon me, as I honoured ye: + You know what danger I endured. + + _Cleo._ Take this, + And carry it to that Lordly _Caesar_ sent thee: + There's a new Love, a handsom one, a rich one: + One that will hug his mind: bid him make love to it: + Tell the ambitious Broker, this will suffer-- + + _Enter Caesar._ + + _Ap._ He enters. + + _Cleo._ How? + + _Caesar._ I do not use to wait, Lady, + Where I am, all the dores are free, and open. + + _Cleo._ I ghess so, by your rudeness. + + _Caesar._ Ye are not angry? + Things of your tender mold, should be most gentle; + Why do you frown? good gods, what a set-anger + Have you forc'd into your face! Come, I must temper ye: + What a coy smile was there, and a disdainfull! + How like an ominous flash it broke out from ye! + Defend me, Love, Sweet, who has anger'd ye? + + _Cleo._ Shew him a glass; that false face has betrai'd me: + That base heart wrought me-- + + _Caesar._ Be more sweetly angry; + I wrong'd ye fair? + + _Cleo._ Away with your foul flatteries: + They are too gross: but that I dare be angry, + And with as great a god as _Caesar_ is, + To shew how poorly I respect his memory, + I would not speak to ye. + + _Caesar._ Pray ye undoe this riddle, + And tell me how I have vext ye? + + _Cleo._ Let me think first + Whether I may put on a Patience + That will with honour suffer me: know, I hate ye, + Let that begin the story: Now I'le tell ye. + + _Caesar._ But do it milder: In a noble Lady, + Softness of spirit, and a sober nature, + That moves like summer winds, cool, and blows sweetness; + Shews blessed like her self. + + _Cleo._ And that great blessedness + You first reap'd of me: till you taught my nature + Like a rude storm to talk aloud, and thunder, + Sleep was not gentler than my soul, and stiller; + You had the Spring of my affections: + And my fair fruits I gave you leave to taste of: + You must expect: the winter of mine anger: + You flung me off, before the Court disgrac'd me, + When in the pride I appear'd of all my beauty, + Appear'd your _Mistress_; took into your eyes + The common-strumpet love of hated lucre, + Courted with covetous heart, the slave of nature, + Gave all your thoughts to gold, that men of glory, + And minds adorn'd with noble love, would kick at: + Souldiers of royal mark, scorn such base purchase: + Beauty and honour are the marks they shoot at; + I spake to ye then; I courted ye, and woo'd ye: + Call'd ye dear _Caesar_, hung about ye tenderly: + Was proud to appear your friend. + + _Caesar._ You have mistaken me. + + _Cleo._ But neither Eye, nor Favour, not a Smile + Was I blessed back with; but shook off rudely, + And, as ye had been sold to sordid infamy, + You fell before the Images of treasure, + And in your soul you worship'd: I stood slighted, + Forgotten and contemn'd; my soft embraces, + And those sweet kisses you call'd Elyzium, + As letters writ in sand, no more remembred: + The name and glory of your _Cleopatra_ + Laugh'd at, and made a story to your Captains, + Shall I endure? + + _Caesar_. You are deceiv'd in all this, + Upon my life you are, 'tis your much tenderness. + + _Cleo._ No, no, I love not that way; you are cozen'd: + I love with as much ambition as a Conquerour, + And where I love, will triumph. + + _Caesar_. So you shall: + My heart shall be the Chariot that shall bear ye, + All I have won shall wait upon ye: By the gods + The bravery of this womans mind, has fired me: + Dear Mistress shall I but this night?-- + + _Cleo._ How _Caesar_? + Have I let slip a second vanity + That gives thee hope? + + _Caesar_. You shall be absolute, + And Reign alone as Queen: you shall be any thing. + + _Cleo._ Make me a maid again, and then I'le hear thee; + Examine all thy art of War, to do that; + And if thou find'st it possible, I'le love thee: + Till when, farewel, unthankfull. + + _Caesar_. Stay. + + _Cleo._ I will not. + + _Caesar_. I command. + + _Cleo._ Command, and goe without, Sir. + I do command thee be my slave for ever, + And vex while I laugh at thee. + + _Caesar_. Thus low, beauty. + + _Cleo._ It is too late; when I have found thee absolute, + The man that Fame reports thee, and to me, + May be I shall think better. Farewel Conquerour. [_Exit._ + + _Caesar_. She mocks me too: I will enjoy her Beauty: + I will not be deni'd; I'le force my longing. + Love is best pleas'd, when roundly we compel him, + And as he is Imperious, so will I be. + Stay fool, and be advis'd: that dulls the appetite, + Takes off the strength and sweetness of delight. + By Heaven she is a miracle, I must use + A handsom way to win: how now; what fear + Dwells in your faces? you look all distracted. + + _Enter_ Sceva, Anthony, Dolabella. + + _Sceva_. If it be fear, 'tis fear of your undoing, + Not of our selves: fear of your poor declining: + Our lives and deaths are equall benefits, + And we make louder prayers to dye nobly, + Than to live high, and wantonly: whilst you are secure here, + And offer Hecatombs of lazie kisses + To the lewd god of love, and cowardize, + And most lasci[v]iously dye in delights, + You are begirt with the fierce _Alexandrians_. + + _Dol._ The spawn of _Egypt_ flow about your Palace, + Arm'd all: and ready to assault. + + _Ant._ Led on + By the false and base _Photinus_ and his Ministers; + No stirring out; no peeping through a loop-hole, + But straight saluted with an armed Dart. + + _Sce._ No parley: they are deaf to all but danger, + They swear they will fley us, and then dry our Quarters: + A rasher of a salt lover, is such a Shooing-horn: + Can you kiss away this conspiracy, and set us free? + Or will the Giant god of love fight for ye? + Will his fierce war-like bow kill a Cock-sparrow? + Bring out the Lady, she can quel this mutiny: + And with her powerfull looks strike awe into them: + She can destroy, and build again the City, + Your Goddesses have mighty gifts: shew 'em her fair brests, + The impregnable Bulworks of proud Love, and let 'em + Begin their battery there: she will laugh at 'em; + They are not above a hundred thousand, Sir. + A mist, a mist, that when her Eyes break out, + Her powerfull radiant eyes, and shake their flashes, + Will flye before her heats. + + _Caesar_. Begirt with Villains? + + _S[ce]._ They come to play you, and your Love a Huntsup. + You were told what this same whorson wenching, long agoe would + come to: + You are taken napping now: has not a Souldier, + A time to kiss his friend, and a time to consider, + But he must lye still digging, like a Pioneer, + Making of mines, and burying of his honour there? + 'Twere good you would think-- + + _Dol._ And time too, or you will find else + A harder task, than Courting a coy Beauty. + + _Ant._ Look out and then believe. + + _Sce._ No, no, hang danger: + Take me provoking broth, and then goe to her: + Goe to your Love, and let her feel your valour; + Charge her whole body, when the sword's in your throat (Sir,) + You may cry, _Caesar_, and see if that will help ye. + + _Caesar_. I'le be my self again, and meet their furies, + Meet, and consume their mischiefs: make some shift, _Sceva_, + To recover the Fleet, and bring me up two Legions, + And you shall see me, how I'le break like thunder + Amongst these beds of slimy Eeles, and scatter 'em. + + _Sce._ Now ye speak sense I'le put my life to the hazard, + Before I goe No more of this warm Lady, + She will spoil your sword-hand. + + _Caesar_. Goe: come, let's to Counsel + How to prevent, and then to execute. + + + +SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Souldiers. + + _1 Sold._ Did ye see this Penitence? + + _2 Sold._ Yes: I saw, and heard it. + + _3 Sold._ And I too: look'd upon him, and observ'd it, + He's the strangest _Septimus_ now-- + + _1 Sold._ I heard he was altered, + And had given away his Gold to honest uses: + Cry'd monstrously. + + _2 Sold._ He cryes abundantly: + He is blind almost with weeping. + + _3 Sold._ 'Tis most wonderfull + That a hard hearted man, and an old Souldier + Should have so much kind moisture: when his Mother dy'd + He laugh'd aloud, and made the wickedst Ballads-- + + _1 Sold._ 'Tis like enough: he never lov'd his parents; + Nor can I blame him, for they ne'r lov'd him. + His Mother dream'd before she was deliver'd + That she was brought abed with a Buzzard, and ever after + She whistl'd him up to th' world: his brave clothes too + He has flung away, and goes like one of us now: + Walks with his hands in's pockets, poor and sorrowfull, + And gives the best instructions.-- + + _2 Sold._ And tells stories + Of honest and good people that were honour'd + And how they were remembred: and runs mad + If he but hear of any ungratefull person, + A bloudy, or betraying man-- + + _3 Sold._ If it be possible + That an Arch-Villain may ever be recovered, + This penitent Rascal will put hard: 'twere worth our labour + To see him once again. + + _Enter_ Septimius. + + _1 Sold._ He spares us that labour, + For here he comes. + + _Sep._--Bless ye my honest friends, + Bless ye from base unworthy men; come not near me, + For I am yet too taking for your company. + + _1 Sold._ Did I not tell ye? + + _2 Sold._ What book's that? + + _1 Sold._ No doubt + Some excellent Salve for a sore heart: are you + _Septimius_, that base knave, that betray'd _Pompey_? + + _Sep._ I was, and am; unless your honest thoughts + Will look upon my penitence, and save me, + I must be ever Villain: O good Souldiers + You that have _Roman_ hearts, take heed of falsehood: + Take heed of blood; take heed of foul ingratitude. + The Gods have scarce a mercy for those mischiefs, + Take heed of pride, 'twas that that brought me to it. + + _2 Sol._ This fellow would make a rare speech at the gallows. + + _[3] Sol._ 'Tis very fit he were hang'd to edifie us: + + _Sep._ Let all your thoughts be humble, and obedient, + Love your Commanders, honour them that feed ye: + Pray, that ye may be strong in honesty + As in the use of arms; Labour, and diligently + To keep your hearts from ease, and her base issues, + Pride, and ambitious wantonness, those spoil'd me. + Rather lose all your limbs, than the least honesty, + You are never lame indeed, till loss of credit + Benumb ye through: Scarrs, and those maims of honour + Are memorable crutches, that shall bear + When you are dead, your noble names to Eternity. + + _1 Sol._ I cry. + + _2 Sol._ And so do I. + + _3 Sol._ An excellent villain. + + _1 Sol._ A more sweet pious knave I never heard yet. + + _2 Sol._ He was happie he was Rascal, to come to this. + + _Enter_ Achoreus. + + Who's this? a Priest? + + _Sep._ O stay, most holy Sir! + And by the Gods of _Egypt_, I conjure ye, + (_Isis_, and great _Osiris_) pity me, + Pity a loaden man, and tell me truly + With what most humble Sacrifice I may + Wash off my sin, and appease the powers that hate me? + Take from my heart those thousand thousand furies, + That restless gnaw upon my life, and save me. + _Orestes_ bloody hands fell on his Mother, + Yet, at the holy altar he was pardon'd. + + _Ach._ _Orestes_ out of madness did his murther, + And therefore he found grace: thou (worst of all men) + Out of cold blood, and hope of gain, base lucre, + Slew'st thine own Feeder: come not near the altar, + Nor with thy reeking hands pollute the Sacrifice, + Thou art markt for shame eternal. [_Exit._ + + _Sep._ Look all on me, + And let me be a story left to time + Of blood and Infamy, how base and ugly + Ingratitude appears, with all her profits, + How monstrous my hop'd grace, at Court! good souldiers + Let neither flattery, nor the witching sound + Of high and soft preferment, touch your goodness: + To be valiant, old, and honest, O what blessedness-- + + _1 Sold._ Dost thou want any thing? + + _Sep._ Nothing but your prayers. + + _2 Sol._ Be thus, and let the blind Priest do his worst, + We have gods as well as they, and they will hear us. + + _3 Sol._ Come, cry no more: thou hast wep't out twenty _Pompeys_. + + _Enter_ Photinus, Achillas. + + _Pho._ So penitent? + + _Achil._ It seems so. + + _Pho._ Yet for all this + We must employ him. + + _1 Sol._ These are the arm'd Souldier leaders: + Away: and let's toth' Fort, we shall be snapt else. [_Exeunt._ + + _Pho._ How now? why thus? what cause of this dejection? + + _Achil._ Why dost thou weep? + + _Sep._ Pray leave me, you have ruin'd me, + You have made me a famous Villain. + + _Pho._ Does that touch thee? + + _Achil._ He will be hard to win: he feels his lewdness. + + _Pho._ He must be won, or we shall want our right hand. + This fellow dares, and knows, and must be heartned. + Art thou so poor to blench at what thou hast done? + Is Conscience a comrade for an old Soldier? + + _Achil._ It is not that: it may be some disgrace + That he takes heavily; and would be cherish'd, + _Septimius_ ever scorn'd to shew such weakness. + + _Sep._ Let me alone; I am not for your purpose, + I am now a new man. + + _Pho._ We have new affairs for thee, + Those that would raise thy head. + + _Sep._ I would 'twere off, + And in your bellies for the love you bear me. + I'le be no more Knave: I have stings enough + Already in my breast. + + _Pho._ Thou shalt be noble: + And who dares think then that thou art not honest? + + _Achil._ Thou shalt command in Chief, all our strong Forces + And if thou serv'st an use, must not all justifie it? + + _S[e]p._ I am Rogue enough. + + _Pho._ Thou wilt be more, and baser: + A poor Rogue is all Rogues: open to all shames: + Nothing to shadow him: dost thou think crying + Can keep thee from the censure of the Multitude? + Or to be kneeling at the altar save thee? + 'Tis poor and servile: + Wert thou thine own Sacrifice + 'Twould seem so low, people would spit the fire out. + + _Achil._ Keep thy self glorious still, though ne're so stain'd, + And that will lessen it, if not work it out. + To goe complaining thus, and thus repenting + Like a poor Girl that had betrai'd her maide[n]-head-- + + _Sep._ I'le stop mine ears. + + _Achil._ Will shew so in a Souldier, + So simply, and so ridiculously, so tamely-- + + _Pho._ If people would believe thee, 'twere some honesty, + And for thy penitence would not laugh at thee + (As sure they will) and beat thee for thy poverty: + If they would allow thy foolery, there were some hope. + + _Sep._ My foolery? + + _Pho._ Nay, more than that, thy misery, + Thy monstrous misery. + + _A[c]hil._ He begins to hearken: + Thy misery so great, men will not bury thee. + + _Sep._ That this were true! + + _Pho._ Why does this conquering _Caesar_ + Labour through the worlds deep Seas of toyls and troubles, + Dangers, and desperate hopes? to repent afterwards? + Why does he slaughter thousands in a Battel, + And whip his Country with the sword? to cry for't? + Thou killd'st great _Pompey_; he'l kill all his kindred, + And justifie it: nay raise up _Trophies_ to it. + When thou hear'st him repent, (he's held most holy too) + And cry for doing daily bloody murthers, + Take thou example, and go ask forgiveness, + Call up the thing thou nam'st thy conscience, + And let it work: then 'twill seem well _Septimius_. + + _Sep._ He does all this. + + _Achil._ Yes: and is honour'd for it; + Nay call'd the honour'd _Caesar_, so maist thou be: + Thou wert born as near a Crown as he. + + _Sep._ He was poor. + + _Pho._ And desperate bloody tricks got him this credit. + + _Sep._ I am afraid you will once more-- + + _Pho._ Help to raise thee: + Off with thy pining black, it dulls a Souldier, + And put on resolution like a man, + A noble Fate waits on thee. + + _Sep._ I now feel + My self returning Rascal speedily. + O that I had the power-- + + _Achil._ Thou shalt have all: + And do all through thy power, men shall admire thee, + And the vices of _Septimius_ shall turn vertues. + + _Sep._ Off: off: thou must off: off my cowardize, + Puling repentance off. + + _Pho._ Now thou speakst nobly. + + _Sep._ Off my dejected looks: and welcom impudence: + My daring shall be Deity, to save me: + Give me instructions, and put action on me: + A glorious cause upon my swords point, Gentlemen, + And let my wit, and valour work: you will raise me, + And make me out-dare all my miseries? + + _Pho._ All this, and all thy wishes. + + _Sep._ Use me then, + Womanish fear farewell: I'le never melt more, + Lead on, to some great thing, to wake my spirit: + I cut the Cedar _Pompey_, and I'le fell + This huge Oak _Caesar_ too. + + _Pho._ Now thou singst sweetly: + And _Ptolomy_ shall crown thee for thy service. + + _Achil._ He's well wrought: put him on apace for cooling. + [_Exeunt._ + + + + +_ACTUS QUINTUS. SCENA PRIMA._ + + _Enter_ Caesar, Antony, Dolabella. + + _Ant._ The tumult still encreases. + + _Caesar_. O my fortune! + My lustfull folly rather! but 'tis well, + And worthily I am made a bondsmans prey, + That after all my glorious victories, + In which I pass'd so many Seas of dangers, + When all the Elements conspir'd against me, + Would yield up the dominion of this head + To any mortal power: so blind and stupid, + To trust these base _Egyptians_, that proclaim'd + Their perjuries, in noble _Pompeys_ death, + And yet that could not warn me. + + _Dol._ Be still _Caesar_, + Who ever lov'd to exercise his fate, + Where danger look't most dreadful. + + _Ant._ If you fall, + Fall not alone: let the King and his Sister + Be buried in your ruines: on my life + They both are guilty: reason may assure you + _Photinus_ nor _Achillas_ durst attempt you, + Or shake one Dart, or sword, aim'd at your safety, + Without their warrant. + + _Caesar_. For the young King I know not + How he may be misled; but for his Sister + (Unequall'd _Cleopatra_) 'twere a kind + Of blasphemy to doubt her: ugly treason + Durst never dwell in such a glorious building, + Nor can so clear and great a spirit, as hers is, + Admit of falsehood. + + _Ant._ Let us seize on him then: + And leave her to her fortune. + + _Dol._ If he have power + Use it to your security, and let + His honesty acquit him: if he be false + It is too great an honour he should dye + By your victorious hand. + + _Caesar_. He comes: and I + Shall do as I find cause. + + _Enter_ Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus. + + _Ptol._ Let not great _Caesar_ + Impute the breach of hospitality, + To you (my guest) to me; I am contemn'd, + And my rebellious subjects lift their hands + Against my head: and would they aim'd no farther, + Provided that I fell a sacrifice + To gain you safety: that this is not feign'd, + The boldness of my innocence may confirm you: + Had I been privy to their bloody plot, + I now had led them on, and given fair gloss + To their bad cause, by being present with them: + But I that yet taste of the punishment, + In being false to _Pompey_, will not make + A second fault to _Caesar_ uncompel'd + With such as have not yet shook off obedience, + I yield my self to you, and will take part + In all your dangers. + + _Caesar_. This pleads your excuse, + And I receive it. + + _Ach._ If they have any touch + Of justice, or religion, I will use + The authority of our Gods, to call them back + From their bad purpose. + + _Apo._ This part of the palace + Is yet defensible: we may make it good, + Till your powers rescue us. + + _Caesar_. _Caesar_ besieg'd? + O stain to my great actions: 'twas my custom, + An Army routed, as my feet had wings + To be first in the chase: nor walls, nor Bulworks + Could guard those that escap'd the Battels fury + From this strong Arm; and I to be enclos'd? + My heart! my heart! but 'tis necessity, + To which the Gods must yield, and I obey, + 'Till I redeem it by some glorious way. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Photinus, Achillas, Septimius, _Souldiers._ + + _Pho._ There's no retiring now, we are broke in: + The deed past hope of pardon: if we prosper + 'Twill be stil'd lawful!, and we shall give laws + To those that now command us: stop not at + Or loyalty, or duty: bold ambition, + To dare and power to do, gave the first difference + Between the King, and subject, _Caesars Motto_, + _Aut Caesar aut Nihil_, each of us must claim, + And use it as our own. + + _Achil._ The deed is bloody + If we conclude in _Ptolomies_ death. + + _Pho._ The better, + The globe of Empire must be so manur'd. + + _Sep._ _Rome_, that from _Romulus_ first took her name, + Had her walls water'd with a Crimson showr + Drain'd from a Brothers heart: nor was she rais'd + To this prodigious height, that overlooks + Three full parts of the Earth, that pay her tribute, + But by enlarging of her [n]arrow bounds + By the Sack of Neighbour Cities, not made hers + Till they were Cemented with the Blood of those + That did possess 'em: _Caesar, Ptolomy_, + (Now I am steel'd) to me are empty names + Esteem'd as _Pompeys_ was. + + _Pho._ Well said _Septimius_, + Thou now art right again. + + _Achil._ But what course take we + For the Princess _Cleopatra_? + + _Pho._ Let her live + Awhile to make us sport: she shall authorize + Our undertakings to the ignorant people, + As if what we do were by her command: + But our _triumvirat_ Government once confirm'd, + She bears her Brother company, that's my Province: + Leave me to work her. + + _Achil._ I will undertake + For _Ptolomy_. + + _Sep._ _Caesar_ shall be my task, + And as in _Pompey_ I began a name + I'le perfect it in _Caesar_. + + _Enter (above)_ Caesar, Ptolomy, Achoreus, Apollodorus, Antony, + Dolabella. + + _Pho._ 'Tis resolv'd then, + We'll force our passage. + + _Achil._ See, they do appear + As they desir'd a Parley. + + _Pho._ I am proud yet + I have brought 'em to capitulate. + + _Ptol._ Now, _Photinus_? + + _Pho._ Now, _Ptolomy_? + + _Ptol._ No addition? + + _Pho._ We are equal, + Though _Caesars_ name were put into the scale, + In which our worth is weigh'd. + + _Caes._ Presumptuous Villain, + Upon what grounds hast thou presum'd to raise + Thy servile hand against the King, or me, + That have a greater name? + + _Pho._ On those, by which + Thou didst presume to pass the _Rubicon_ + Against the Laws of _Rome_; and at the name + Of Traitor smile; as thou didst when _Marcellus_, + The Consul, with the _Senates_ full consent + Pronounc'd thee for an Enemy to thy Country, + Yet thou wentst on, and thy rebellious Cause + Was crown'd with fair success: Why should we fear then? + Think on that, _Caesar_. + + _Caes._ O the gods! be brav'd thus, + And be compell'd to bear this from a Slave + That would not brook Great _Pompey_ his Superiour? + + _Achil._ Thy glories now have toucht the highest point, + And must descend. + + _Pho._ Despair, and think we stand + The Champions of _Rome_, to wreak her wrongs, + Upon whose liberty thou hast set thy foot. + + _Sept._ And that the Ghosts of all those noble _Romans_ + That by thy Sword fell in this Civil War + Expect revenge. + + _Ant._ Dar'st thou speak, and remember + There was a _Pompey_? + + _Pho._ There is no hope to 'scape us: + If that against the odds we have upon you + You dare come forth, and fight, receive the honour + To dye like _Romans_, if ye faint, resolve + To starve like Wretches; I disdain to change + Another syllable with you. [_Exeunt._ + + _Ant._ Let us dye nobly; + And rather fall upon each others Sword + Than come into these Villains hands. + + _Caes._ That Fortune, + Which to this hour hath been a Friend to _Caesar_, + Though for a while she cloath her Brow with frowns, + Will smile again upon me: who will pay her, + Or sacrifice, or Vows, if she forsake + Her best of works in me? or suffer him, + Whom with a strong hand she hath led triumphant + Through the whole western world, and _Rome_ acknowledg'd + Her Soveraign Lord, to end in-gloriously + A life admir'd by all? The threatned danger + Must by a way more horrid be avoided, + And I will run the hazard; Fire the Palace, + And the rich Magazines that neighbour it, + In which the Wealth of _Egypt_ is contain'd: + Start not, it shall be so; that while the people + Labour in quenching the ensuing flames, + Like Caesar, with this handful of my friends + Through Fire, and Swords I force a passage to + My conquering Legions. King, if thou dar'd follow + Where _Caesar_ leads, or live or dye a Free-man; + If not, stay here a Bond-man to thy Slave, + And dead, be thought unworthy of a Grave. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENE III. + + _Enter_ Septimius. + + _Sept._ I feel my resolution melts again + And that I am not Knave alone, but fool, + In all my purposes. The Devil, _Photinus_, + Employs me as a Property, and grown useless + Will shake me off again; he told me so + When I kill'd _Pompey_; nor can I hope better, + When _Caesar_ is dispatch'd; Services done + For such as only study their own ends, + Too great to be rewarded, are return'd + With deadly hate; I learn'd this Principle + In his own School, yet still he fools me, well; + And yet he trusts me: Since I in my nature + Was fashion'd to be false, wherefore should I + That kill'd my General, and a _Roman_, one + To whom I ow'd all nourishments of life, + Be true to an _Egyptian_? To save _Caesar_, + And turn _Photinus's_ plots on his own head, + As it is in my power, redeem my credit, + And live to lye and swear again in fashion, + Oh, 'twere a master-piece! ha!--me _Caesar_, + How's he got off? + + _Enter_ Caesar, Ptolomy, Antony, Dolabella, Achoreus, + Apollodorus, _Souldiers._ + + _Caes._ The fire has took, + And shews the City like a second _Troy_, + The Navy too is scorch'd, the people greedy + To save their Wealth and Houses, whilst their Souldiers + Make spoil of all; only _Achillas's_ Troops + Make good their Guard, break through them, we are safe; + I'll lead you like a Thunder-bolt. + + _Sept._ Stay, _Caesar_. + + _Caes._ Who's this? the Dog, _Septimius_? + + _Ant._ Cut his throat. + + _Dol._ You bark'd but now, fawn you so soon? + + _Sept._ O hear me, + What I'll deliver is for _Caesars_ safety, + For all your good. + + _Ant._ Good from a mouth like thine, + That never belch'd but blasphemy, and treason on Festival days! + + _Sept._ I am an altered man, altered indeed, + And will give you cause to say I am a _Roman_. + + _Dol._ Rogue, I grant thee. + + _Sept._ Trust me, I'll make the passage smooth, and easie + For your escape. + + _Ant._ I'll trust the Devil sooner, + And make a safer Bargain. + + _Sept._ I am trusted + With all _Photinus's_ secrets. + + _Ant._ There's no doubt then + Thou wilt be false. + + _Sept._ Still to be true to you. + + _Dol._ And very likely. + + _Caes._ Be brief, the means? + + _Sept._ Thus, _Caesar_, + To me alone, but bound by terrible oaths + Not to discover it, he hath reveal'd + A dismal Vault, whose dreadful mouth does open + A mile beyond the City: in this Cave + Lye but two hours conceal'd. + + _Ant._ If you believe him, + He'll bury us alive. + + _Dol._ I'll flye in the Air first. + + _Sept._ Then in the dead of night I'll bring you back + Into a private room, where you shall find + _Photinus_, and _Achillas_, and the rest + Of their Commanders close at Council. + + _Caes._ Good, what follows? + + _Sept._ Fall me fairly on their throats, + Their heads cut off and shorn, the multitude + Will easily disperse. + + _Caes._ O Devil! away with him; + Nor true to Friend nor Enemy? _Caesar_ scorns + To find his safety, or revenge his wrongs + So base a way; or owe the means of life + To such a leprous Traytor, I have towr'd + For Victory like a Faulcon in the Clouds, + Nor dig'd for't like a Mole; our Swords and Cause + Make way for us, and that it may appear + We took a noble Course, and hate base Treason, + Some Souldiers that would merit _Caesar's_ favour, + Hang him on yonder Turret, and then follow + The lane this Sword makes for you. [_Exit._ + + _1 Sold._ Here's a Belt, + Though I dye for it I'll use it. + + _2 Sold._ 'Tis too good + To truss a Cur in. + + _Sept._ Save me, here's Gold. + + _1 Sold._ If _Rome_ + Were offered for thy ransom, it could not help thee. + + _2 Sold._ Hang not an arse. + + _1 Sold._ Goad him on with thy Sword; + Thou dost deserve a worser end, and may + All such conclude so, that their friends betray. [_Exeunt._ + + + +SCENE IV. + + _Enter (severally)_ Arsino, Eros, Cleopatra. + + _Ars._ We are lost. + + _Eros_. Undone. + + _Ars._ Confusion, Fire, and Swords, + And fury in the Souldiers face more horrid + Circle us round. + + _Eros_. The Kings Command they laugh at, + And jeer at _Caesars_ threats. + + _Ars._ My Brother seiz'd on + By the _Roman_, as thought guilty of the tumult, + And forc'd to bear him company, as mark'd out + For his protection or revenge. + + _Eros_. They have broke + Into my Cabinet; my Trunks are ransack'd. + + _Ars._ I have lost my jewels too: but that's the least: + The barbarous Rascals, against all humanity, + Or sense of pity, have kill'd my little Dog, + And broke my Monkeys Chain. + + _Eros_. They rifled me: + But that I could endure, would they proceed no further. + + _Ars._ O my Sister! + + _Eros_. My Queen, my Mistress! + + _Ars._ Can you stand unmov'd + When the Earth-quake of Rebellion shakes the City, + And the Court trembles? + + _Cleo._ Yes, _Arsino_, + And with a Masculine Constancy deride + Fortunes worst malice, as a Servant to + My Vertues, not a Mistress; then we forsake + The strong Fort of our selves, when we once yield, + Or shrink at her assaults; I am still my self, + And though disrob'd of Soveraignty, and ravish'd + Of ceremonious duty, that attends it, + Nay, grant they had slav'd my Body, my free mind + Like to the Palm-tree walling fruitful _Nile_, + Shall grow up straighter and enlarge it self + 'Spight of the envious weight that loads it with: + Think of thy Birth (_Arsino_) common burdens + Fit common Shoulders; teach the multitude + By suffering nobly what they fear to touch at; + The greatness of thy mind does soar a pitch, + Their dim eyes (darkened by their narrow souls) + Cannot arrive at. + + _Ars._ I am new created, + And owe this second being to you (best Sister) + For now I feel you have infus'd into me + Part of your fortitude. + + _Eros_. I still am fearful; + I dare not tell a lie; you that were born + Daughters and Sisters unto Kings, may nourish + Great thoughts, which I, that am your humble handmaid + Must not presume to rival. + + _Cleo._ Yet (my _Eros_) + Though thou hast profited nothing by observing + The whole course of my life, learn in my death, + Though not to equal, yet to imitate + Thy fearless Mistress. + + _Enter_ Photinus. + + _Eros_. O, a man in Arms! + His Weapon drawn too? + + _Cleo._ Though upon the point + Death sate, I'll meet it, and outdare the danger. + + _Pho._ Keep the Watch strong, and guard the passage sure + That leads unto the Sea. + + _Cleo._ What Sea of rudeness + Breaks in upon us? or what Subjects Breath + Dare raise a storm, when we command a calm? + Are Duty and Obedience fled to Heaven? + And in their room ambition and pride + Sent into _Egypt_? That Face speaks thee, _Photinus_, + A thing thy Mother brought into the World; + My Brother's and my Slave: but thy behaviour, + Oppos'd to that, an insolent intruder + Upon that Soveraignty thou shouldst bow to. + If in the Gulph of base ingratitude, + All loyalty to _Ptolomy_ the King + Be swallowed up, remember who I am, + Whose Daughter and whose Sister; or suppose + That is forgot too; let the name of _Caesar_ + Which Nations quake at, stop the desperate madness + From running headlong on to thy Confusion. + Throw from thee quickly those rebellious Arms, + And let me read submission in thine Eyes; + Thy wrongs to us we will not only pardon, + But be a ready advocate to plead for thee + To _Caesar_, and my Brother. + + _Pho._ Plead my Pardon? + To you I bow, but scorn as much to stoop thus + To _Ptolomy_ or _Caesar_, Nay, the gods, + As to put off the figure of a man, + And change my Essence with a sensual Beast; + All my designs, my counsels, and dark ends + Were aim'd to purchase you. + + _Cleo._ How durst thou, being + The scorn of baseness, nourish such a thought? + + _Pho._ They that have power are royal; and those base + That live at the devotion of another. + What birth gave _Ptolomy_, or fortune _Caesar_, + By Engines fashion'd in this _Protean_ Anvil + I have made mine; and only stoop at you, + Whom I would still preserve free to command me; + For _Caesar's_ frowns, they are below my thoughts, + And but in these fair Eyes I still have read + The story of a supream Monarchy, + To which all hearts with mine gladly pay tribute, + _Photinus's_ Name had long since been as great + As _Ptolomies_ e'r was, or _Caesars_ is, + This made me as a weaker tye to unloose + The knot of Loyalty, that chain'd my freedom, + And slight the fear that _Caesars_ threats might cause, + That I and they might see no Sun appear + But _Cleopatra_ in the _Egyptian_ Sphear. + + _Cleo._ O Giant-like Ambition! marryed to + _Cymmerian_ darkness! inconsiderate Fool, + (Though flatter'd with self-love) could'st thou believe, + Were all Crowns on the Earth made into one, + And that (by Kings) set on thy head; all Scepters, + Within thy grasp, and laid down at my feet, + I would vouchsafe a kiss to a no-man? + A guelded Eunuch? + + _Pho._ Fairest, that makes for me, + And shews it is no sensual appetite, + But true love to the greatness of thy Spirit, + That when that you are mine shall yield me pleasures, + _Hymen_, though blessing a new married Pair + Shall blush to think on, and our certain issue, + The glorious splendor of dread Majesty, + Whose beams shall dazel _Rome_, and aw the world, + My wants in that kind others shall supply, + And I give way to it. + + _Cleo._ Baser than thy Birth; + Can there be gods, and hear this, and no thunder + Ram thee into the Earth? + + _Pho._ They are asleep, + And cannot hear thee; + Or with open Eyes, + Did _Jove_ look on us, I would laugh and swear + That his artillery is cloy'd by me: + Or if that they have power to hurt, his Bolts + Are in my hand. + + _Cleo._ Most impious! + + _Pho._ They are dreams, + Religious Fools shake at: yet to assure thee, + If _Nemesis_, that scourges pride and scorn, + Be any thing but a name, she lives in me; + For by my self (an oath to me more dreadful + Than _Stix_ is to your gods) weak _Ptolomy_ dead, + And _Caesar_ (both being in my toil) remov'd, + The poorest Rascals that are in my Camp + Shall in my presence quench their lustful heat + In thee, and young _Arsino_, while I laugh + To hear you howl in vain: + I deride those gods, + That you think can protect you. + + _Cleo._ To prevent thee, + In that I am the Mistress of my Fate; + So hope I of my sister to confirm it. + I spit at thee, and scorn thee. + + _Pho._ I will tame + That haughty courage, and make thee stoop too. + + _Cleo._ Never, + I was born to command, and will dye so. + + _Enter_ Achillas, _and Souldiers, with the Body of_ Ptolomy. + + _Pho._ The King dead? this is a fair entrance to + Our future happiness. + + _Ars._ Oh my dear Brother! + + _Cleo._ Weep not, _Arsino_, common women do so, + Nor lose a tear for him, it cannot help him; + But study to dye nobly. + + _Pho._ _Caesar_ fled! + 'Tis deadly aconite to my cold heart, + It choaks my vital Spirits: where was your care? + Did the Guards sleep? + + _Achil._ He rowz'd them with his Sword; + We talk of _Mars_, but I am sure his Courage + Admits of no comparison but it self, + And (as inspir'd by him) his following friends + With such a confidence as young Eagles prey + Under the large wing of their fiercer Dam, + Brake through our Troops and scatter'd them, he went on + But still pursu'd by us, when on the sudden, + He turn'd his head, and from his Eyes flew terrour; + Which strook in us no less fear and amazement, + Than if we had encounter'd with the lightning + Hurl'd from _Jove's_ cloudy Brow. + + _Cleo._ 'Twas like my _Caesar_. + + _Achil._ We faln back, he made on, and as our fear + Had parted from us with his dreadful looks, + Again we follow'd; but got near the Sea; + On which his Navy anchor'd; in one hand + Holding a Scroll he had above the waves, + And in the other grasping fast his Sword, + As it had been a Trident forg'd by _Vulcan_ + To calm the raging Ocean, he made away + As if he had been _Neptune_, his friends like + So many _Tritons_ follow'd, their bold shouts + Yielding a chearful musick; we showr'd darts + Upon them, but in vain, they reach'd their ships + And in their safety we are sunk; for _Caesar_ + Prepares for War. + + _Pho._ How fell the King? + + _Achil._ Unable + To follow _Caesar_, he was trod to death + By the Pursuers, and with him the Priest + Of _Isis_, good _Achoreus_. + + _Ars._ May the Earth + Lye gently on their ashes. + + _Pho._ I feel now, + That there are powers above us; and that 'tis not + Within the searching policies of man + To alter their decrees. + + _Cleo._ I laugh at thee; + Where are thy threats now, Fool, thy scoffs and scorns + Against the gods? I see calamity + Is the best Mistress of Religion, + And can convert an Atheist. [_Shout within._ + + _Pho._ O they come, + Mountains fall on me! O for him to dye + That plac'd his Heaven on Earth, is an assurance + Of his descent to Hell; where shall I hide me? + The greatest daring to a man dishonest, + Is but a Bastard Courage, ever fainting. [_Exit._ + + _Enter_ Caesar, Sceva, Antony, Dolabella. + + _Caes._ Look on your _Caesar_; banish fear, my fairest, + You now are safe. + + _Sce._ By _Venus_, not a kiss + Till our work be done; the Traitors once dispatch'd + To it, and we'll cry aim. + + _Caes._ I will be speedy. [_Exeunt._ + + _Cleo._ Farewel again, _Arsino_; how now, _Eros_? + Ever faint-hearted? + + _Eros_. But that I am assur'd, + Your Excellency can command the General, + I fear the Souldiers, for they look as if + They would be nibling too. + + _Cleo._ He is all honour, + Nor do I now repent me of my favours, + Nor can I think that Nature e'r made a Woman + That in her prime deserv'd him. + + _Enter_ Caesar, Sceva, Antonie, Dolabella, _Souldiers, with the + Heads._ + + _Ars._ He's come back, + Pursue no further; curb the Souldiers fury. + + _Caes._ See (beauteous Mistris) their accursed heads + That did conspire against us. + + _Sce._ Furies plague 'em, + They had too fair an end to dye like Souldiers, + _Pompey_ fell by the Sword, the Cross or Halter + Should have dispatch'd them. + + _Caes._ All is but death, good _Sceva_, + Be therefore satisfied: and now my dearest, + Look upon _Caesar_, as he still appear'd + A Conquerour, and this unfortunate King + Entomb'd with honour, we'll to _Rome_, where _Caesar_ + Will shew he can give Kingdoms; for the Senate, + (Thy Brother dead) shall willingly decree + The Crown of _Egypt_ (that was his) to thee. [_Exeunt omnes._ + + + + +PROLOGUE. + + _New Titles warrant not a Play for new,_ + _The Subject being old; and 'tis as true,_ + _Fresh and neat matter may with ease be fram'd_ + _Out of their Stories, that have oft been nam'd_ + _With glory on the Stage; what borrows he_ + _From him that wrote old_ Priam's _Tragedy,_ + _That writes his love to_ Hecuba? _Sure to tell_ + _Of_ Caesars _amorous heats, and how he fell_ + _In the Capitol, can never be the same_ + _To the Judicious; Nor will such blame_ + _Those who pen'd this, for Barrenness when they find_ + _Young_ Cleopatra _here, and her great Mind_ + _Expressed to the height, with us a Maid, and free,_ + _And how he rated her Virginitie._ + _We treat not of what boldness she did dye,_ + _Nor of her fatal Love to_ Antony. + _What we present and offer to your view,_ + _Upon their faiths the Stage yet never knew._ + _Let Reason then first to your Wills give laws,_ + _And after judge of them and of their cause._ + + + +EPILOGUE. + + _I Now should wish another had my place,_ + _But that I hope to come off, and with Grace;_ + _And but express some sign that you are pleas'd,_ + _We of our doubts, they of their fears are eas'd._ + _I would beg further (Gentlemen) and much say_ + _In favour of our selves, them, and the Play;_ + _Did I not rest assured, the most I see_ + _Hate Impudence, and cherish Modestie._ + + + * * * * * + + + +APPENDIX. + +p. 300, ll. 5-39. Not in 1st folio. + +p. 301, l. 3. 2nd folio] Achil. Love the K. l. 30. frequent in this. +l. 31. to safe. + +p. 302, l. 13. and give. + +p. 303, l. 10. 2nd folio _here and frequently prints_] Septinius. + +p. 304, ll. 3 and 4. o' these ... foole us; l. 7. 2nd folio +_misprints_] Aeh. + +p. 305. l. 7. Till they. l. 24. 2nd folio _misprints_] and. + +p. 309, l. 30. _A missing bracket has been added before_ Photinus. + +p. 310, l. 4. Prerogatives. l. 31. 2nd folio _misprints_] Potolmy. l. +40. hand of. + +p. 313, l. 29. a Prisoner. + +p. 316, l. 2. of thy. l. 11. _Omits_ in. l. 14. sought him. + +p. 318, l. 16. _A comma has been added at the end of the line._ + +p. 320, l. 20. tell you. l. 24. _Adds the following line_] I gave you +no comission to performe it: l. 31. with ye. l. 32. Hangers. + +p. 321, l. 23. told ye. l. 30. ye are. + +p. 322, l. 33. my anger. + +p. 323, l. 2. 2nd folio] Lordships. + +p. 324, l. 32. _Adds the following line_] The rule of ill, I'le trust +before the dore. + +p. 325, l. 1. I sat. l. 17. Affrinius. l. 23. past now. l. 29. comes +still. + +p. 326, l. 9. _Omits_ rich. l. 32. _Omits_ that. + +p. 327, l. 3. Pray. + +p. 328, l. 1. I know. l. 6. on a. + +p. 329, l. 14. first would. + +p. 330, l. 34. 2nd folio _misprints_] Apollodrous. + +p. 331, l. 28. loades us. + +p. 332, l. 11. this rare. l. 20. cradled. + +p. 333, l. 27. halfe an houre. + +p. 334, l. 13. Devills are light. + +p. 336, l. 1. 2nd folio] villaines. l. 10. my God. l. 12. Rude +valorus. l. 28. 2nd folio] shall. + +p. 337, l. 1. blood. l. 7. stuffes. l. 8. Leaper. l. 26. _Omits_ To. + +p. 338, l. 18. 2nd folio _misprints_] Sep. l. 23. the charities. l. +31. The infectious. + +p. 340, l. 20. readiest. l. 30. _Adds after_ treasure?] richer still? + +p. 341, l. 11. _Omits_ me. + +p. 343, l. 1. hidden. + +p. 344, l. 13. they would. l. 31. Pray thee be. + +p. 346, l. 23. Lovers. + +p. 347, l. 9. Dye not. + +p. 348, l. 39. to my. + +p. 349, l. 18. backe; but. + +p. 350, l. 34. 2nd folio _misprints_] lasciciously. + +p. 351, l. 20. 2nd folio _misprints_] Sec. + +p. 353, l. 20. 2nd folio] 2 Sol. l. 27. loose all. + +p. 355, l. 23. 2nd folio _misprints_] Sep. l. 35. 2nd folio +_misprints_] maidend-head. + +p. 356, l. 6. 2nd folio _misprints_] Achil. l. 16. hearest. + +p. 357, l. 10. to weale my. l. 22. bondmans. + +p. 359, l. 21. A will. l. 31. manur. l. 37. 2nd folio] marrow. l. 38. +Cities, were made. + +p. 360, l. 14. 2nd folio] Brother, company that's. l. 28. them. + +p. 362, l. 9. darst. l. 17. This Devill. l. 23. rewarded, or return'd. +l. 29. I owe. + +p. 363, l. 6. while. l. 7. Achillas troops. l. 17. a moneth. l. 27. +Photinus secrets. + +p. 365, ll. 15 and 16. + + They rufled me: + But that I could endure, and tire 'em too, + Would they proceed no further. + +l. 20. When an. + +p. 367, l. 6. To Ptolomy, to Caesar. l. 23. Photinus name. l. 29. th' +Egyptian. + +p. 368, l. 37. make it. l. 39. and I will. + +p. 369, l. 6. Nor loose. l. 16. you Eagletss. l. 18. 'em. + +p. 370, l. 37. _Omits_ that. + +p. 371, l. 5. _Omits_ Caes. l. 15. for Rome. l. 20. The Prologue. +l. 32. Those that penn'd. + +p. 372, l. 7. The Epilogue. l. 13. 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