 | The Roman Revenge |  |
SCENE III.
CÆSAR alone.CÆSAR.
I wou'd, be happy.—Why, then, am I Great?
Men, who desert their Peace, to serve their Glory,
Toil, for the Malice of oblig'd Mankind:
8
Whence Opposition Springs—and Love its Boldness.
Why claim I Power Supreme?—was Empire—mine?
Freedom is every Roman's native Right;
And every Roman Voice demands it back,
Where Power's, unjustly, held—the Opposer's just:
But,—where even Freedom is, by Choice, corrupt,
How fruitless—to redeem the willing Slave.
Can I recall the Dead?—Rome gives up Rome;
The cheapen'd Varlets rate their venal Votes,
And sell their Soul's Redeemer.—Sleep, Ambition?
How easier 'tis to save, than mend, a People!
Fall, servile Rome!—No.—Rome is Cæsar's Country.
And, who dares injure, where he's born—to save?
Foes! wrong me on—till pardon'd into Friends:
Busy, for Greatness, I'll neglect Revenge;
Take Envy in Reward, and make it Fame.
What new, kind Fear, alarms thy Lady's Love?
[Enter Flavia frighted.
FLAVIA.
Danger, most instant, she wou'd, now, impart,
E're Cassius, and his proud Confederates come—
Those Enemies of all her Hopes—and Cæsar!
CÆSAR.
Go: tell her, Cæsar dreads no Enemies,
But those, Her felt Afflictions teach to wound him.
[Exit Flavia.
CÆSAR.
(Kneeling.)
Hear me, Thou! self-producing, dark, first Cause!
All-ruling! all-evading! aweful Power,
Whom, under various Names, blind worship seeks!
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Sheath'd, in my Bosom, let the Guilty fall!
(rises)
But, if brib'd Hopes, or partial Sense of Liberty,
Sovereign'd, a Senate, o'er a Nation, Slaves:
Then, Tyranny (assum'd, to bar a Tyrant)
Gave Rome five Hundred Kings—lest one shou'd reign.
If I must war—be edg'd my Sword, for Glory:
Better to hold, than bear tyrannic Sway:
Where but the Great are free—Reason's, a Slave,
| The Roman Revenge | |