 | Caligula |  |
18
ACT III.
The SCENE continues.Enter Valerius Asiaticus, Annius Minutianus.
An. M.
Cæsar triumphs, and is by Rome ador'd,
For Battels won by your victorious Sword.
Val. A.
'Tis true, to triumphs he has small pretence;
Put wou'd y'ave me proudly out-brave my Prince,
And boast I won those Fields he durst not see?
This wou'd be fatal sawciness in me.
Soldiers in fight their courage shou'd display;
They have a triumph when they win the day.
Let them be brave against the bold and great,
But humble to all those beneath their feet.
An. M.
A gen'rous thought.
Val. A.
In most triumphal shews,
A conqu'ring Coxcomb o'r a beaten crows.
The fopp'ry in the Hero then appears,
The Lyon's couch'd, the Ass pricks up his Ears.
Vain ostentation does too oft enslave,
The learn'd, the wise, the mighty, and the brave.
The Man of Learning, no content can reap
From all his knowledge, till he spreads the heap,
And great applause, and admiration gains;
For that poor chaff, how he will thrash his brains?
He is in throws before, but then he's eas'd;
When he's a publick fool he's highly pleas'd.
For Fame vain Wits take all their soaring flights;
For Fame the ostentatious Hero fights;
For shew, with wounds will be embroider'd o'r,
And deeply died in his own purple gore.
An. M.
Vain ostentation deforms ev'ry grace;
'Tis like a blister in a beauteous face.
Val. A.
'Tis hard to know, whose brains have wider flaws,
They who sit ratling chains, and pleating straws;
Or they who toyl, only for vain renown,
To wear in History a paper Crown.
Whilst Cæsar now, for a design so vain,
Takes Poets and Historians in his Train;
How like a Lunatick this Prince appears,
Pleas'd because Bells hang jingling at his ears?
Thus he resolves oblivion to subdue;
Ay, and the graces of his person too,
19
And in bold Images, shall time invade.
For this are famous Artists kept in pay,
And Art brings forth dead Cæsars ev'ry day;
You will see all our Gardens and Abodes,
And Temples crowded with those silent Gods:
And for his likeness, he'll sit brooding long,
With all the pains that Birds do, to hatch their Young.
An. M.
Well, this Campaign the Emperor ventur'd far;
I think, he march'd to the frontier of War.
Val. A.
Yes, and he bore some little Princes down,
Whose fall will give no sound to his Renown:
Their Provinces he might with ease o're run:
On my War-Horse I could have leap'd o're one.
An. M.
Your Lordship is the Pillar of his Throne;
But, that's a truth Cæsar disdains to own.
Val. A.
I support Cæsar? Be not so profane;
Cæsar's a God, to him all aid is vain.
An. M.
Who can that impious Flattery endure?
His Father was a mortal Man, I'm sure.
Val. A.
His Godhead both from Chance and Nature came;
'Tis a Convention in his Sacred Frame
Of Divine Atoms; it was not begot,
'Twas an original and glorious lot.
Thus his Atheistick flatterers blaspheme,
Hum'ring their hot-brain'd Emperor's waking dream.
Vast fortunes bred the frenzy, I confess;
Feeble mankind can suffer no excess:
Fortunes too high, or low, wrack humane thought,
But fortune only has not been in fault;
The Empress too, did her assistance joyn,
And often gave him Philters in his Wine;
Then this proud folly first began to Reign,
Successes turn'd, and drugs Diseas'd his Brain.
Enter Cassius Cheræa.
Cassius, I'd rais'd thy fortunes by commands,
But thou hast Enemies, which hold my hands:
Howe'er I'll raise thy Honour, if I can,
I do not know a more deserving Man.
Cas. Ch.
In the esteem of such a noble Friend,
My Lord, I to an envi'd height ascend;
The Emperor's pleas'd to call me Coward, and Fool,
Because he always finds me soft and cool;
And always slow in shedding guiltless blood,
Cæsar may give what titles he thinks good.
20
If any thing deserving praise I've done,
I'm not much pleas'd to hear it oft proclaim'd;
But yet, methinks, I'm loath to be defam'd.
Val. A.
Oh! my good Lord, I've in this Vessel found:
Excellent Metal, tho' it yields no sound.
He who seems here, only an Image drest,
A piece of fine Court-furniture, at best;
In War is more then Man.
An. M.
So I've been told.
Val. A.
I've seen Barbarians numerous, and bold,
Fly from this Man, like Locusts from a storm;
Wonders in War, I've seen him oft perform:
But of rough Cassius, after a Campaign,
No marks but in his scars and wounds remain.
Here all his time on pleasure he bestows;
He rises late, and rises to repose
On a soft Couch, where Wine drowns all his care;
Or on the softer Bosoms o'the fair.
Where Amorous dalliance, and wanton Play,
Is all the toil in which he wasts the day.
Cas. Ch.
My Lord, I love all pleasure nature yields;
The joys of wanton Beds, and bloody Fields.
Perhaps your taste and mine may not agree;
Whilst I have Life, I wou'd shake all the Tree:
I'd have Wine and Women, Musick and Renown,
And thus have all my days go sweetly down:
I wou'd not let one moment run to wast,
No, nor go off, with an unpleasant taste.
Fearfull and melancholy minds prepare
For their last hours by Sacrifice and Pray'r,
Contemplate bones and sculls: But I design
To part with life, over a Glass o'Wine:
I'll fill my Eyes with beauty, e're they close,
And Songs shall lull me to my long repose.
Val. A.
But whilst your time you eagerly bestow
On the warm side of life, where pleasures grow:
Men think you not the gallant Man you are,
That all your Manhood lies among the fair.
An. M.
So, Cæsar thinks, and tramples on his brow,
But Cassius does not seem to feel the blow;
But he is to admiration calm and tame;
And all his anger is a lambent flame.
Cas. Ch.
Oh! no, my Lord, I feel the heavy blows,
Nor have I all the patience you suppose;
21
But wounds, when inwardly they bleed gangreen.
Reasons there are, why I seem patient now;
But I, one day, may let the Emperor know.
I love not to oppress, or be oppress'd;
But every thing is in its season best.
Man has his hours of sleep, when he's embalm'd
With that soft unguent, and lies all be calm'd;
Trees have their seasons, when you'd think 'em dead,
But Nature finds a time to lift her head.
And shortly Cassius may his vigor shew,
And make the World ring, with a dreadfull blow,
Shall settle Regal Diadems; which now
Totter, on many a trembling Prince's brow;
But all our bonds write in Imperial gore.
That I'm a Man, and Cæsar is no more.
An. M.
This sudden lofty flame has made me sweat;
Oh! Cassius, worthy of a name so great:
May'st thou in fame and fortune, far exceed
The Renown'd Cassius, who made Julius bleed.
Val. A.
Have I not told the Emperor, I'm his Friend,
That Cæsar, against Cæsar, I'll defend?
That, to encrease his Empire and Renown,
By Wars, which I may honourably own:
I'll in the face of my danger fly?
And dost thou hope I'll give my self the lie.
Let Cæsars Life be stoln by base surprize,
And own my self a Villain in disguise?
On Faith and Honour I have fixt my foot;
And for that ground with Cæsar I'll dispute.
Perhaps his favour, nothing can retain,
In my own favour I'll to death remain.
Cas. Ch.
Does not your Lordship every moment shed
Blood, guiltless blood, by guarding Cæsar's head.
Val. A.
He's young and fiery; and has a Brain
Deseas'd by drugs, and Knaves the dregs of Men.
All the corruptions of a Land repair
To Courts, and fill 'em with unwholesome air:
A Monarch with great vertue is endu'd,
If he appears but moderately good?
Cassius your wrongs are not to me unknown,
Nor that all Nations under Cæsar grown.
But I'll to him, and all mankind be just,
Protect his Person and oppose his Lust.
I'll try by Counsel first to stop his course;
That filling, I'll to fair and open force.
22
(Beckons to an Officer of the Guard.
Secure this Tribune, Sir, with utmost care.
An Officer, with a Guard; carry of Cassius Cheræa a Prisoner.
An. M.
My Lord, a noble spirit you display;
But yet, my Lord; this I must boldly say:
You feel not Cæsar's faults, as thousands do;
A decent distance they have kept from you.
They have not yet approach'd your heart or head;
Nor seiz'd your fortune, or defil'd your Bed.
Va. A.
My Bed!
An. M.
Your Bed, as mine he oft has done;
His brutal Lust, has oft my Bed o're run.
On remote sires, with small concern we gaze,
But we all rise when our own dwellings blaze
Had Cæsar and your Wife been kind—
Val. A.
Been kind.
No more, I sweat when e'er their names are joyn'd.
An. M.
You wisely keep her out of Cæsar's sight,
And in safe privacies engross delight:
You never suffer her to see the Town,
And thus secure her honour and your own.
Val. A.
My Lord, I'd stab her, if she shou'd presume
But to look towards, or own she dreamt of Rome?
Damnation! She's in Court, in this Lewd Court:
I pray, my Lord, for your own sake retire,
Of my Domestick troubles take no share,
You have enow, and more than you can bare
(Exit. An. M. Enter Julia, attended.
Why, how now, Madam, am I disobey'd?
What has allur'd you, from your Sacred shade
To Rome, where ev'ry Vice has open sway;
Revells and Rages, in sight of day?
Jul.
My Lord, I'm overjoy'd with your Renown;
Spoil not my pleasure with an angry frown.
Why do you look with such a threatning brow?
My Lord, you are not in a battle now.
Val. A.
I'm in worse danger, as I've cause to fear;
For you expose my life, and honour here.
If e're you come in ravenous Cæsar's eye,
Your beauty'll be devoured, and I shall die.
Jul.
I'll guard my self.
Val. A.
I'll not trust your defence;
I'll hurry you a hundred Leagues from hence.
Your Beauty shall not flourish in report;
I'll furle that banner up, remote from Court.
23
And challenge Cæsar to invade my Bed;
Provoke the proud Adulterer to my Couch,
And be Procurer to my own Reproach?
Jul.
You have confin'd me, till I wished to die;
Th'unborn have as much joy in life, as I.
Val. A.
Cæsar and you I labour'd to divide;
But, shame and ruin, what have I deny'd?
I out of love, confin'd you to a seat,
I do not think Elezium is so sweet.
I kept you a Luxurious Court at home;
You had the pomp, without the crimes o'Rome.
Had Reason Rul'd you, I had pleas'd your mind,
But Reason is no part of womankind.
Your Lusts and Vanities no bounds admit,
You're moderate in nothing but your Wit.
Jul.
This picture of our Sex, not much allures;
Now I'll endeavour to delineate yours,
Our Follies are akin, but yours are gross,
And ours from beauty have a pleasing gloss:
Your Fop is but our Ape, he paints the face,
And acts our fool without her Charming Grace:
Both Sexes vex the World with noise, and prate;
But we confound a street, and you a state,
Our fools but seldom write; your Sex is stor'd
With fools, who will be Coxcombs on Record,
And their impertinence through ages spread;
Your scolds in Books wrangle alive, and dead.
Fighting all Women, and most Men, abhor;
But Women Cowards have wit to keep from War.
Your mighty Tyrant Lords our beauty rules;
Your greatest Wits are gull'd by Female Fools.
I've youth, I've youth, and pleasure I'll enjoy,
But fear me not, my birth and spirit are high,
Rather than taint my Family I'd die.
Val. A.
Of Cæsar's wickedness I'm most in fear,
Madam, begone, you're in a mad house here;
Not where a Lunitick is held in Chains,
But where a great Imperial Madman Reigns.
Who tares the World and lays all Nations bare,
And when he has enjoy'd he strips the Fair:
Of his Lewd love those are Triumphal shews,
In jovial moodes on Fav'rites he bestows.
The beauteous Empress I have oft by night
Beheld all naked, like unclouded light,
24
That brazen beauty on a Golden bed.
Jul.
Whatever you suppose, e're I'd be food
To brutal Lust, Lyons shou'd drink my blood.
Val. A.
Oh! Madam, you have vertues that he slights,
And Rapes and Rapines, are his high delights.
He loves to make all Nature feel his force;
Rivers he Ravishes, and turns their course?
He levels Mountains, Elevates the Vales,
O're waves he rides, and over Lands he sails.
Nay, he builds lofty Palaces on Seas;
He scorns the Pleasure he can gain with ease:
I have been hot; but no one shou'd admire
In a watch Tower to see a blaring fire.
'Tis kindled up, to lend a needful light
To Mariners, in dangerous dead of night:
To tell 'em Land is near, they're cast away,
Unless they keep aloofe to Sea, 'till day:
For such kind ends my passion flam'd aloft,
But though my words were harsh, my heart is soft.
Now I'll no more be troublesomely wise;
Dwell where thou wilt, with thy own heart advise,
Study thy pleasures and regard not mine;
To my own bosome, I'll my fears confine.
But of my fortunes carve thy self thy share,
I will lock nothing from thee, but my care.
Jul.
This gen'rous Love I never can requite;
In pleasing you, I'll place my chief delight?
Rome from this moment I renounce, abjure,
I'll not the memory of Rome endure.
Nay, in my presence, no one shall presume
To mention infamous and vitious Rome.
Val. A.
Oh! if this Town shou'd rightly be pourtray'd,
Hell must lend colours, for a dismal shade.
Climates there are, which burn the natives black,
And scorching day appears a fiery Lake.
In a more horrid Climate here we dwell,
For they are burnt by Heaven, but we by Hell.
Here bosoms oft flame with incestuous fires,
And many Sons are Brethren to their Sires,
Our Emp'ror has with high-sprung Bastards stor'd
A thousand beds, and all his Sisters Whor'd.
Jul.
Oh! Monster!
Val. A.
Stay: He drags thee to his bed,
And then his fear and envy take my head;
25
And nothing that he likes escapes his Lust.
Jul.
My Chariot;—I abhor a Court so Lewd:
Methinks it has a scent of Lust and Blood,
And I shall sicken, If I longer stay;
Therefore this very minute I'll away.
Val. A.
Canst thou not breath in the same air with Vice?
Then thou must quit the World; th'art over nice.
Well, I'll release thee from this dire abode,
When I've an hour on some affairs bestow'd.
Then I'll along; I hurry thee from hence,
Only to save thee from lewd violence;
Not part with beauty I so highly prize,
But to secure thee to my Arms and Eyes.
[Ex.
The SCENE a magnificent part of the Palace.
Enter Caligula, Cesonia, Vitellius, Attendants, Guards.
Cal.
I have been building, Madam, since we went.
Ces.
A palace lofty as the firmament.
The Rooms with wondrous pleasure I behold.
Cal.
And mark the doors; the hinges are of gold.
Ces.
If Artists, Sir, can for the work be found,
I'd have the doors yield an harmonious sound,
As all the Heavens do, when e'r they move;
And make this palace like the seat of Jove.
Wou'd this were possible to human skill.
Cal.
What is impossible to Cæsar's Will.
Vit.
No, Cæsar's genius exalts ev'ry mind,
Gives a great Soul to Arts of ev'ry kind.
Cal.
How do those Gardens in thy eye appear?
Ces.
The face of Winter now frowns ev'ry where.
Vit.
Oh! Madam! you're the favorite of a God,
And charm'd all nature, when you came abroad;
The rugged Winter civilly withdrew,
And the sweet Spring look'd out to gaze on you.
The Zephyrs plaid, and threw the clouds away,
As dancers strip, to be more light and gay.
Ces.
I wou'd enrich these Gardens, were they mine,
With Rocks of Diamonds, and Seas of Wine.
Here tydes of Wine shou'd daily ebb and flow;
The Walks with golden dust, and pearls, I'd strow,
And then I might suppose, on Stars I trod,
As it becomes the consort of a God.
Cal.
Thou shalt have all the Wealth that Nature yields;
These Gardens shall excel the Elizian Fields,
26
Where all the Trees bore fruit of solid Gold.
And will that please thee? Oh! how sits the Wind?
This golden Grove brings Africk to my mind.
With much impatience, I expect from thence
An Obelisk of great magnificence.
A Wonder both for stature and extent;
I've for this Wonder, a Sea Wonder sent,
A Ship, which covers half the Sea, and more,
And with its burden makes the billows roar.
Vit.
Sir, if the Ocean can the burden bear,
'Twill very soon be here, the Winds are fair.
Cal.
They say, that Pyramids are Regal Tombs
Of mighty Kings, the last Retiring-Rooms.
This spacious Universe, in War o'ercome,
And laid in Ruins, shall be Cæsar's Tomb.
Ces.
Be Cæsar's Tomb? Let me not see the hour
When he is entomb'd.
Cal.
We will name Tombs no more.
Ces.
Their powers to me, wou'd Destinies resign,
Eternal shou'd be Cæsar's Life, and mine,
And all our days be smiling, and serene;
We wou'd not know what cares, or troubles mean.
Cal.
Well may we love, I'm sure our souls agree;
Then may thy life be all serenity.
And that of pleasure thou may'st have thy fill,
Command all Cæsar's power, all humane skill.
Now, Love, prepare for Cæsar's golden Couch;
Th'Images smile, with hopes of thy approach.
They blaze with gold, we burn with hot desire;
There we shall all appear, nay be o'fire.
Ces.
Is the Bed new? For I, when I've my choice,
Let nothng, but my Cæsar, touch me twice.
Cal.
It is all new, and so I think art thou;
Thou never didst appear so fair as now.
Ces.
Perhaps from joy, some colour I derive;
But I have drooping beauties I'd revive.
By this days trouble, I've contracted soil;
Therefore, with Cæsar's leave, I'd bath awhile.
From water then, Ill like a Venus rise,
And in my Cæsar's arms dissolve in joys.
Cal.
Water a Bath for beauty so Divine?
Ces.
Water ennobl'd with the richest Wine,
Perfumes, and pearls dissolv'd.
Cal.
Go bath an hour;
In pleasure then dissolve an Emperor.
[Ex. Ces. and Ladies.
27
How now, old splendid Knight? thy days decline,
But thou resolv'st to make thy evening shine;
But all the lustre of thy Youth, and Age,
Has been from Buildings, Train, and Equipage.
How dar'st thou have th'ill manners, to abstain
From War, and Honour, in a Warlike reign?
Pas.
In Youth I serv'd in War; Sir, now I'm old,
The relick of a Man.
Cal.
But wrapp'd in gold.
Well, what's your bus'ness here?
Pas.
With Cæsar's leave,
From Cæsar's glory pleasure to receive.
Also to let my gracious Emp'ror know
News, which perhaps some pleasure may bestow;
Th'Ægyptian Wonder is arriv'd at last.
Cal.
Th'Obelisk? Where?
Pas.
'Tis of a size so vast,
That, Sir, it will let nothing else appear;
And, I may say, 'tis almost ev'rywhere.
Sir, I believe, no Province is so large
As the great Ship that brought this monstrous charge.
I was of late forc'd, on a small design,
To send to Ægypt a young Son o'mine;
And in this Ship he found a passage home.
Sir, a great Nation might have there found room.
Cal.
I'll see this Vessel, and its monstrous freight;
I'll go by Sea, prepare my Gallies straight.
Where is your Son?
Pas.
Without, Sir.
Cal.
Call him in.
Enter Lepidus.
Thou venture to the Sea? no, rather sure,
Thou hast been polishing thy self awhile,
In a sweet Bath of Milk, and Wine, and Oil.
The Sea wou'd frighten one so soft as thou,
Unless 'twas smoother than a Ladies brow.
Where blew the Wind?
Lep.
In th'East, where now it blows.
Cas.
You mean thro' Flutes and Trumpets, I suppose.
The Ocean was in peace with ev'ry cloud;
The Winds were only in Wind-Musick loud.
Th'ast found at Sea a serene milky way,
And to those Waters went'st to dance and play,
As Ladies do to Wells, when weather's gay.
Oh! thou hadst rather Rome, and all the World,
Shou'd be confounded, than thy hair uncurl'd.
28
Rings which allure, and Nets which catch the Fair.
Lep.
Nature, Sir, gave me what I value more,
A great devotion for my Emperor.
Sir, in that Ornament lies all my Pride,
When Cæsar pleases, any thing beside:
I can with infinite delight resign,
In duty, only I desire to shine.
Cal.
Well said?
Vit.
A nobler Youth I have not seen,
I love you, Sir, our tempers are akin.
Cal.
The Egyptians highly flam'd with zeal of late,
For Cæsar's Glory, does their heat abate.
Lep.
Cæsar—
Vit.
When Cæsar's mention'd by your own,
Or any Tongue, pray, Sir, bow humbly down.
Lep.
Egypt with Gods is plentifully stor'd,
But, Divine Cæsar there is most ador'd.
(Vit. and Lep. bow when Cæsar is nam'd.
Vit.
Yes, Cæsar makes a glorious Figure there,
Therefore that Kingdom greatly I revere;
And often tow'rds that point of Heaven I bend,
Which Canopys that happy holy Land.
(Vit. bows toward Egypt.
Lep.
The Alexandrian Jews each moment feel
Dreadfull effects, Sir, of Egyptian zeal.
Cal.
And they shall quickly feel my fury too;
And so shall ev'ry disobedient Jew.
Their old dead Priests and Prophets they prefer
Above a living, new, young Jupiter;
Cæsar I mean.
Lep.
The Egyptian Jews have sent,
A noble Agent Learned and Eloquent.
His Life is Pious, and his Conduct Sage,
He's call'd, by some, the Plato of the Age.
Cal.
Let's see this second Plato—
[Ex. Lep. and Enter Philo.
Welcome, Sir?
You are a Learned Philosopher, I'm told.
Cæsar may well admit of your adress,
You have to nature intimate access,
And are her Minister; you shall be heard,
For that's a Character deserves regard.
She is my Benefactress, I must own;
I had from nature my Imperial Crown.
Nay, more a Godhead on me she bestows,
Or so it is my pleasure to suppose.
And who will plunder me of what I love;
Thunder may easier be snatch'd from Jove.
29
Assault my high Imaginations too?
Phi.
To such high arrogance who dares ascend?
Sir, with the Egyptians we only contend:
We'll not thrust Cæsar down, among the low
Rabble of Gods, to which th'Egyptians bow.
A Leek in Egypt is a Heavenly Lord;
Cart loads of Gods their Gardens can afford.
We'll not mix Cæsar with their Herds and Flocks,
Their Rams and Goats; nor yoke him with an Ox:
Nor joyn him with the Monsters of their Nile;
Nor link him with an Ape, a thing most vile.
All these are Gods in the Egyptian Creeds;
And for refusing this our Nation bleeds.
No Age, no Sex, the Alexandrian spare:
Our Men they murder, and they force the Fair.
Cal.
Jove is a Cæsar in the World above;
Cæsar is in this lower World a Jove.
He Thunders oft indeed, and so do I,
But he keeps always safe within his Sky;
And, in my Reign, quits not his lofty ground:
He Thunders now; I do not love that sound—
Why shou'd I shake when I hear Thunder roar,
For I've no fear.
Vit.
Antipathy, no more.
Lyons are in disorder, when they hear
A poor Cock crow; yet Lyons have no fear.
Cal.
These foolish qualities in Men and Beasts,
Are tricks of Nature, and her trifling jeasts.
Now will this writing Knave his Prince defame,
And with unmanly Cowardize blast my name.
Hew him to pieces Lictors;—hold—not yet.
How ready blockheads are to ruin Wit?
Swine shall not root in such a noble Bed,
Whence fame may spring to me when I'm dead.
Vit.
What Divine Clemency does Cæsar show?
What say you now? Is he a God or no?
Cal.
My Galleys I will hasten to the Port,
And see the wonders that must grace the Court.
Vit.
A throng of noble Youths the honour craves
To Row you, Sir, and be your Galley-slaves.
Cal.
Well, let 'em Row; they'll Row against the stream,
Men must tug hard if they get my esteem.
Ex. Cal. Vit. Attendants, Guards. Enter Lepidus and Salome
Sal.
My Father lives, my devout prayers are heard,
Good Angels left their Heaven, to be his Guard.
30
Ah! what have I endeavour'd from tot'ring fear?
Lep.
So much it wou'd be cruelty to tell;
A thousand times she in deep swoonings fell.
When sense return'd, grief fail'd not to revive:
Ah! how she mourn'd because she was alive?
And blam'd us all, who forc'd her to retain
A miserable Life, when you were slain?
That to deprive her, we unkindly strove,
Of happy Martyrdome for filial love?
Phi.
Why wert thou so amaz'd at this Report?
Is danger any News in Cæsar's Court?
Thou knewst we to a fiery furnance came,
This raging Prince is always in a flame.
Sleep cools not him, disturb'd by dreams he burns,
And when he wakes, his waking dream returns,
That he's a God: We pity this Disease,
And worship not for Gods, his Images,
If th'Images be Gods, we shou'd adore
The Men that made 'em, they are something more.
'Tis base born Godhead, which from Man descends,
If Cæsar be a God, as he pretends,
His Godhead in Creation was display'd,
He needs no Image but the World he made.
Well, in the shamefull Alexandrian Rape,
Daughter, you had the happiness to scape;
But, in this Court th'art in a dan'grous place,
And therefore, always vail thy thoughts and face.
Lep.
Ay, Madam, here y'are in the seat of sin;
Cæsar will force the Fair he cannot win.
Sal.
Oh! you have fill'd my heart with chilling fears,
To fly from him, I'd rush o're Swords and Spears:
The Croaks of Ravens, and the Shreikes of Owls,
All boding sounds threatning departing Souls,
And to the sick approaching death proclaim;
Are not so dreadfull as this Tyrants name.
(Ex.
| Caligula | |