 | Caligula |  |
40
ACT V.
Enter Julia and her Women.Jul.
Run to my Lord, desire his swift return,
For I've drunk Poyson, and I burn, I burn.
Enter Valerius Asiaticus, and Annius Minutianus,
Oh! my dear Lord! I've done my honour right,
And Death will soon transport me out o'sight;
For I am all in a consuming flame,
I burn with poyson, and I burn with shame.
Val. A.
With poyson?
Jul.
Poyson; but I've never been
With a worse poyson tainted, shameful sin.
Oh! I abhor the thought.
Val. A.
I've no distrust.
Jul.
I've been inviolably true, and just.
No one can have a Soul more clear than I
From foul desires;—for Cæsar's sin I die.
Val. A.
I do believe thou art as chaste as fair;
Wound not thy wounded heart, thy griefs I share.
How much I value thee thou hast not known,
Because I love thee more than can be shown.
I, out of love, conceal'd thee in a shade.
Jul.
And your Commands I boldly disobey'd,
And came to Rome.—
[She kneels.
The fatal fault forgive;
And, at the least, oh! love me, whilst I live.
Val. A.
Ay, and for ever; rise, sweet Julia, rise,
Rise to my arms, thou life of all my joys,
But a departing life my Julia dies.
Jul.
Oh! wou'd to Heav'n I had dy'd, before
This shameful violation.—Oh! no more.
My blushing cheeks glow with a fiery red;
In thy dear bosome, let me hide my head.
An M.
How blest was he, before this heavy wrong,
In a soft beauty, constant, chaste, and young.
In this sweet Lady all perfections joyn;
I never had a pleasing hour with mine.
Jul.
When I am dead, strew me all o'er, I pray,
With flow'rs, to shew that I was chaste as they.
Val. A.
As sweet, and lovely too.
Jul.
They fade, and die,
When they are rudely touch'd; and so do I.
41
Why shou'd I blush for wicked Cæsar's sin?
Val. A.
The least undecent thought thou canst not bear;
Thy Vertue, to its self, is too severe.
Jul.
Oh! see! the Souls of Vestal Virgins come,
To welcome me, and grace my martyrdom;
They're all in Robes, whiter than mountain Snow.
Val. A.
Alas! she raves.
Jul.
Do you not see 'em?
Val. A.
No.
Jul.
Then I perceive, the modest beauties shun
The sight of men; therefore begone,—begone.
I shall in triumph to Elizium go;
'Tis a great honour, Ladies, you bestow.
Oh! they retire.—Ladies, return again,
Admit me into your sacred spotless Train.
I'm chaste as you, tho' not so fair in fame;
For wicked Tongues, I know, will wrong my Name,
Throw on my mem'ry undeserv'd disgrace;
But your sweet Groves will hide my blushing face.
Oh! they are going, stay sweet Virgins, stay;
They're gone! they're gone! y'ave frightned 'em away.
And I'm with strangers left I know not where.
Val. A.
Th'art in his arms, to whom th'art wondrous dear.
Jul.
Ha! you are Cæsar.
Val. A.
No, sweet Julia, no;
I'm Cæsar's mortal, and eternal foe.
Jul.
Well, y'are a man, and ev'ry man I dread.
—Who's this? my Lord? I knew not what I said.
In my few moments, that my thoughts shou'd rove
From him, whom I so dearly, dearly love.
Val. A.
Lean, lean, my Julia, on my panting breast,
My love and sorrow cannot be express'd.
Jul.
I'm going where no wicked Tyrant reigns;
Preserve my mem'ry.
Val. A.
All thy dear Remains.
Jul.
Heav'n knows how I've been faithful to your Bed?
I've lov'd you to my death, shall love when dead.
Elizium can to me no bliss afford,
Till in those happy shades I meet my Lord:
Till then—farewel.—
[She dies.
Val. A.
She's going—she is gone.
Ah! see, what beastial tyranny has done.
Her beauty's gone; Death has deflowr'd her too,
What I so lov'd I've not the heart to view.
42
Departing beauties, Death too long will veil.
I will have one cold kiss before we part.
(Kisses her.
Revenge! Revenge! Oh, how it swells my heart?
An. M.
Be well prepar'd; Rome loves a vitious Prince,
All the corrupt will rise in his defence.
Val. A.
Well, if Rome rises, I will raise it higher,
For I'll exalt it to the Clouds in fire.
But 'tis dispirited, and dares not rise;
And Cæsar's scorn'd by all the brave and wise.
An. M.
Proud Tyrants who no bounds of law endure:
Are common foes; and never are secure;
Their lofty Thrones they seldom long enjoy:
Streif Lyons all men labour to destroy.
Val. A.
Oh, tremble Cæsar; prodigies appear,
Which say, if there be Gods, thy fall is near.
Prodigious Vertue in this Beauty shone;
Her Cause and Justice live, tho' she is gone.
Thy own prodigious Crimes th'ast cause to dread;
Vengeance they'll hurle at thy devoted head.
Eclipses are thought frightfull omens too:
This sad Eclipse thou may'st with terror view,
It threats thy life—View it, ye Gods forbid;
His frantick Lust wou'd violate the dead.
Methinks I talk too much in words abound,
And my Revenge evaporates in sound.
An. M.
Will you not set the gallant Cassius free?
Val. A.
And steal by stabs, revenge, and liberty?
My honour in full splendor I'll maintain,
I'll by fair War end this inhuman Reign.
This night, for mine, and universal good,
The Sun shall set in blood, Imperial blood.
(Ex.
SCENE, the Court.
Enter Caligula, Vitellius, Guards.
Cal.
Beauty I love, but I hate toilsome Rapes;
I love good Wine, but wou'd not tread the Grapes.
The Chast are cold, therefore I hate the Chast;
Fruites in cold climes have an insipid tast.
I'm told by Oracles my death is nigh.
Vit.
Your death!
Cal.
my death; all I suspect shall die.
Valerius first shall perish by my Sword;
He can in battle face his Sovereign Lord.
43
Nay, he's provok'd, and therefore dangerous grown.
Cal.
Provok'd by pride to mount th'Imperial Throne.
And by Revenge provok'd to take my life,
Because I forc'd his fair, young vertuous Wife.
Cassius Cheræa's honest, tho' not bold:
Valerius has confin'd him, I am told.
In the mad Revels of his Rage, no doubt,
Valerius let some dangerous secrets out,
Which now he'd lock up in the dark from me:
But I'll unravel all the Villainy.
Vit.
The Jews inform'd, that if they dare deny
To worship Cæsars Image, they shall die;
Bey Audience.
Cal.
Villains—They wou'd not presume
To slight my Will, had they not found in Rome
Rebellious spirits: and when they appear,
A Prince's fall and death are oft too near.
Nay, a young Roman, I reprov'd of late,
For being Wanton, Soft, Effeminate,
Useless to Cæsar and to all mankind
Except the Fair—has sawcily design'd
To wed a Jewess, now in Cæsar's Court:
With Cæsar's anger none shall dare to sport.
I'll reform Rome, and all shall feel my Sword,
Whose names are written in this black Record,
(He pulls out a Pocket Book.
Then I'll to Egypt, where I'm most ador'd.
Bring in the Jews.
Enter Philo and the Jews.
Cal.
What wou'd you have?—
(To Phi.
Those carvings there look well—
(To Vit.
Phi.
Permission, Sir—
Cal.
Permission to Rebel?—
Phi.
We Sacrifice for Cæsar every day.
Cal.
You Sacrifice for Cæsar oft, you say,
But not to Cæsar. How dare you presume
To give my honour to I don't know whom?
Phi.
Leave to enjoy those rights we humbly crave,
Your glorious Ancestor Augustus gave.
Cal.
What are those rights?
Phi.
They're by long custom known;
And all deriv'd by the Imperial Throne.
The Alexandrians slight our lofty claim;
And hourly put our dwellings in a flame,
Plunder our Treasures, seize on all our Lands,
And often in our blood embrue their hands.
The lives of thousands—
44
Ha! the lives you say?
Oh! now my Water-works begin to play.
(He runs to the side of the Stage.
Phi.
Audience from Cæsar Water works can gain;
A bleeding Nation humbly begs in vain.
Cal.
These streams are sweeter murmurers than you:
Now these apartments let's a moment view.
(He goes to the other side of the Stage.)
See there Gods ride on Clouds.
Vit.
Can painting give
A life to shadows, one would think they live.
Cal.
You've rights deriv'd from the Imperial Throne?
(To Phi.
There I'll have Windows of transparent Stone.
(To Vit.
Which shall the fury of the Sun allay
The fiery River of a flaming day,
Will through those channels coolly, mildly pass:
Glass windows in hot climes are burning-Glass
Have you a Patent?—come let it be seen—
Phi.
Under the Imperial Seal—
Cal.
Of Heaven you mean;
For you are the Almighty' darling choice:
Your pray'rs have in Heaven a casting voice.
And all your Rams which at your Altars dye,
Prove batt'ring Rams, it seems and force the Sky.
Go; you are cheated fools or sawcy cheats:
And above Cæsar raise your vain conceits:
Throw down the Statues of the World's great Lord,
Whilst your Imaginations are ador'd,
I will put all your Nation to the Sword.
Vit.
A Glorious Prince!
Phi.
We patiently resign
Our selves to Heavens Will.
Cal.
And shall to mine.
You have a Daughter now in Rome, 'tis said,
Whom a young Roman dares presume to Wed.
Enter Pastor.
Oh! Pastor, you've a Son, who dares design
To wed a fair young enemy of mine.
Past.
I never heard this dreadfull News before;
If Thunder-stricken cou'd I tremble more?
Phi.
Sir, our unhappy Children I perceive,
Have wickedly without their Parents leave
Or knowledge, stollen into a Marriage vow,
I never knew they Leagu'd or Lov'd 'till now.
Cal.
On this offence, I'll lay a dreadfull fine;
Which shall be paid, by thy Sons blood or mine.
(To Past.
45
Search for his Son: Conceal him they that dare.
Philosopher, you'd have your Tribes submit,
Not to my Will, but to your aspiring Wit.
Say my pretences to Celestial power,
Are lofty frolicks of my mind, no more;
Will you presume to give my pleasure Law?
I'll be ador'd to keep the World in awe;
Ay, and by you; if you dare disobey,
Your death shall be among my sports to day.
(Ex. Cal. Vit. Guard.
Phi.
We must adore him; if he's disobey'd,
[Pas. lead out a Prisoner.
We dye, for Cæsar's sport were Nations made
By power Celestial, infinitely good,
For Cæsar's Lust to glory, power, and blood?
Enter Lepidus.
Oh! Sir! you've wrong'd me; cruelly beguil'd
Your Friend of his belov'd and only Child.
Lep.
Indeed I have not, Sir; I will confess,
I sought to gain her, but with no success.
Sir, my addresses she wou'd not receive,
Or lend an ear to 'em, without your leave;
And that I sought not, for I fear'd 'twas vain,
I know your zeal: But, Sir, did she complain?
Phi.
I heard the News in Court, and not till now:
It has reach'd Cæsar's ears, I know not how.
The Emperor no contempt with ease endures;
'Till you appear, your Father he secures.
And if from Cæsars fierce Revenge you fly,
Your aged Father for your fault will die.
(Exit Philo and the Jews, at one door? At another, Enter Salome.)
Lep.
Oh! Lovely Maid! for death I must prepare,
My sweet commerce with one so wondrous fair,
Has fallen, it seems, under the envious Eye
Of some Court-whisperer, and I must die.
Sal.
This dire event, I always did forebode,
And lost the pleasure which thy Love bestow'd.
I've lov'd thee, tho' my Love I have not shown,
More than 'twas fit a modest Maid shou'd own.
Lep.
Oh! what delightfull harmony I hear?
But I must meet the death, which is too near.
For angry Cæsar now in Court secures
My tender Father, and he threatens yours.
If I abscond they both will die, I fear;
Therefore, to save 'em both I must appear.
Sal.
Ah! dreadfull News! then th'art ensnar'd indeed,
Almighty Father of the World with speed.
46
For the Religion to his Father shewn.
Let not the World so great a treasure loose;
But let some other Angel interpose.
Lep.
Some other Angel? then thou think'st me one,
What happiness I loose? I must be gone,
Methinks I hear my suffering Father groan.
Farewell, sweet Love—
Sal.
Farewell? ah! killing word;
He parts from me to rush on Cæsar's Sword
From loving me my genrous Lover dies.
Lep.
And yet that Love above my life I prize.
Ah! Cæsar comes? trust me to Heavens defence,
But not thy Beauty to this Lustfull Prince.
Sal.
Oh! I had rather be in pieces torn
By raging Lyons, or in Ætna burn.
(Ex. Sal.
Enter, at another door, Caligula, Vitellius, Guard.
Lep.
Sir, to redeem my Father, I appear
Unforc'd, unfound, and come a Voluntier.
Cal.
You love a Jewess.
Lep.
Sir, I do indeed.
I love her Beauty, Vertue, not her Creed.
We may accept good Forreign Coin, tho' there
The Images of Cæsar's Foes appear.
Cal.
Were she worth Love, she wou'd thy Love despise;
And rather choose a Lover, brave and wise:
Whose Cheeks are drain'd of all their blood by wounds,
But his good Sword with noble blood abounds;
His locks are gone, old time has cut that Comb,
But Fame and Wisdom sprout up in the room;
Then a young fool, whose brains flow all in hair,
But has no heart, and a wit bald and bare.
Lep.
This from the most Effeminate Prince alive:
With thy own Lusts and Vices, Cæsar strive.
(aside.
Cal.
Too many worthless Youths now cumber Room,
Who derive all their honours from the Womb.
They bask in lustre, which their birth bestows,
And in the lap of Fortune dully dose.
To leave their sloath, and take a noble course,
The Trumpets seem with frequent summons hoarse.
The grumbling Drums urge 'em to War in vain;
The Drones have Warlick glory in disdain.
And from their wealth and ease no more can rise,
Then from their amber tombs poor lifeless flies.
Begone; th'art an offence to Cæsar's eye:
Go to thy Father and prepare to die.
47
My self to death with pleasure I resign,
Hoping I shall redeem his life with mine.
(Ex. Lep. guarded.
Cal.
Go, let Cheræa speedily be brought.
Vit.
He's come.
Enter Cassius Cheræa, with a Guard.
Cal.
A Prisoner, Cassius? What's thy fault?
Cas. Ch.
My Lord, Valerius, who has been my Friend,
Sir, 'twas my great misfortune to offend.
Cal.
Confess the truth, save thy own life and mine:
From his proud heart some dangerous design
Broke in thy hearing, e're he was aware,
And then he lock'd it up from taking air.
Cas. Ch.
He's close and dark, I believe loyal too;
I love a Virgin in the dark, 'tis true,
Not Treason, Sir, with the most lovely face:
But I've not seen him since his last disgrace.
Cal.
His nature's visible enough, he's proud;
He Courts the Senate, purchases the crowd,
By their assistance to ascend the Throne:
Power is the Idol of his heart, 'tis known.
This night the memory of Augustus claims:
With all Magnificence, and publick games,
I fail not to adorn it, ev'ry year:
And I shall have a great assembly here.
This Evening my Tragedians represent
Some of those Fables, Priests of Hell invent.
Then Rome shall be a Hell and flow in blood,
A noble Fable for an interlude.
Cassius, I'll try the metal of thy Sword,
Thou shalt have the honour to obey thy Lord.
Cas.
Cæsar makes bloody hangmen of his Guard—
We to a noble Office are prefer'd.
When his mind changes (which will be soon,
For it has more new faces than the Moon,
And influences more this lower World)
We, by new hangmen, shall to Hell be hurl'd.
My resolutions I have let you know,
And you embrac'd 'em; now let's give the blow,
For which sick trembling Rome in secret longs:
Let's give her freedom and Revenge her wrongs.
The Tyrant by our aid, Robs, Burns. Devours:
Let's put an end to all her guilt and ours.
(Aside to the Guards.
Cal.
Rome has inborn aversions to a Prince:
And I am warn'd to stand on my defence
By Oracles and Dreams—Sleep shuns my eyes;
I'm angry that I need such poor supplies.
48
But from short life to take a third seems hard.
Vit.
Thanks to the Gods in yonder beauteous Bower.
You slept of late.
Cal.
How long?
Vit.
Almost an hour,
Ten minutes short: for, Sir, I proudly own,
I number'd 'em, and then I penn'd 'em down.
Whatever Cæsar does (a Prince ador'd
By half mankind) is worthy of Record.
Cal.
Then did I dream from Heaven (where I was Crown'd)
Jove spurn'd me to the Earth; nay, under the ground.
The Earth then yawn'd, and with a frightfull roar
Clos'd o're my head, and I was seen no more.
Dark Treason lurks in Rome, I know not where.
I'm in disorder—Rogues will call it fear,
And so will impudent Historians too;
How do they blacken Kings, they never knew?
Of their own vain imaginations proud
Into their stories sawcily they crowd.
Their own Reflections, Dreams, and false Conceits;
So lie with Kings, in the same fine wrought sheets,
All Rome but I, now with delight abounds:
Let Musick try, with sweet inchanting sounds
To calm my stormy thoughts, to lull my care.
Musick charm'd Hell and all the furies there
[After a short Entertainment of Musick and Dancing; Shrieks and tumultuous noises are heard from behind the Scenes. Vit. goes out.
My Guards! my Guards.
Re-enter Vit.
How now? does Rome Rebell?
Vit.
One of your Statues shook and groan'd, then fell;
Th'assembly frightned then, in tumults rose;
And with blood rain'd from Heav'n the pavement flows.
Cal.
For Cæsar's danger nature is in pain:
There is more truth in Marble than in Men.
The fall of Rome, or Cæsar's death is near:
Ill have the blood of all I've cause to fear.
Go and prepare for this design to night,
And we'll to morrow forrage in delight.
(Ex. Vit.
Cas.
Now our great work no longer let's retard.
Strike when I strike.
(Aside to the Guard.
Sir, I am on the Guard:
(He approaches the Emperor.
Be pleas'd to give the Word.
49
Stay! let me see!—
Priapus;—that is a fit word for thee.
[Cas. Ch. wounds the Emperor, and the Guard second him. The Emperor falls.
Cal.
Ha! I am murder'd! murder'd! by my Guard!
Cas. Ch.
No, no; a murderer meets his just reward.
(The Emperor strives to get up.
Cal.
I'm yet alive
Cas. Ch.
How many lives hast thou?
Thou hast a thousand if th'art living now.
(They all wound him again.
Had we not kill'd thee, thousands must have dy'd
By us; as victims to thy bloody pride,
They cou'd no way, but by thy fall escape:
'Twas on my innocence a cruel rape.
Death I expect, and I'll prepare to die:
Not by the Councels of Philosophy,
I will converse with beauty more Divine,
And be inspir'd by Love, and Songs, and Wine.
My self for death with pleasure I'll compose,
And give my life an entertaining close.
(Clashing of arms is heard.
What shou'd this mean? No matter what, away;
Lest you be cut in pieces if you stay.
(Ex. Cas. and the Guard.
Cal.
I am yet living, and the Villains fly;
I shall revenge my death before I die.
(He endeavours to rise.
Enter Valerius Asiaticus, Annius Minutianus, and their party, driving Soldiers before 'em. Cal rises and staggers.
Val. Min. and their party return.
Val. A.
Where is this Ravisher of beauteous Wives,
Of Virgins, Realms, Religions, Laws, and Lives?
Cal.
Valerius? then my death was thy design;
I'm butcher'd here, by Cowardly Rogues o'thine.
Val. A.
Cowards I hate, and Cowardly treason scorn,
I'll keep unstain'd the Lawrels I have worn.
A brave Revenge I fairly sought and won:
I've beat thy Guards, and thou art left alone.
I've given thy dreadfull power a dangerous blow:
Thou and thy lofty Throne both struggle now.
Cal.
I'm going!—going!—whither—who can tell.
Val. A.
Whither all Tyrants go; to burning Hell.
Cal.
I'd rather sink into the Hell I dread,
Than at a Rascalls foot—thus—lay my head.
(Cal. falls and dies.
Val. A.
So, he is fallen, he who lately trod
On all mankind, and call'd himself a God,
That he was mortal to his cost he found,
And in his blood now wallows on the ground.
An. M.
He wish'd all Rome had but one neck, 'tis said,
That at one blow he might all Rome behead.
50
Ay, but he found too many hands in Town,
And hands, it seems, as bloody as his own.
A debauch'd vitious Prince does often find
'Tis very dangerous to corrupt mankind.
'Tis odds, he by his own corruption dies,
And crimes by crimes justly the Gods chastize.
For Cassius speedily search all the Town,
For he has wrong'd my honour and his own.
He wrought, no doubt, the Villany I fear'd;
But by his death my honour shall be clear'd.
Enter Cesonia, and her Woman.
Ces.
My Cæsar murder'd! stand away—forbear;
Now I've lost Cæsar, what have I to fear.
Oh! here's my Cæsar, I so Lov'd, Ador'd;
Lord of the World, I'm sure Cesonia's Lord,
Mangled by Villains, here in blood he lies,
In his own blood—Cæsar, who gave my eyes,
Ay, and my heart, such infinite delight,
Is now a mournfull, and a dreadfull Sight.
The World to me is all a desart now;
For a lost Cæsar, Gods, revenge bestow.
Revenge all Princes, by this horrid deed
All thrones are shaken, and all Princes bleed.
Revenge two Lovers, here by Villains torn;
One murder'd, and I only live to mourn
Revenge my Princely Babe, from Cæsar sprung,
It cannot sin, why shou'd it suffer wrong?
Now the Tree's fallen, the little branch will soon
Decay and wither—Oh! I faint!—I swoun—
Val. A.
Help her.
Ces.
Stand off; I've pleasure in my grief
Except revenge, I desire no relief.
Take up the precious relicks of your Prince:
Oh! take 'em up, whilst I've remains o'sence.
Oh! gently! gently! if you be humane,
His wounds pain me, and he feels all my pain
For his Cesonia he more dearly Loves,
Than all the beauties in th'Elizian Groves.
(They take up the Emperor.
Come, my dead Lord, with thy Cesonia dwell:
In Love at least, I all my Sex excell.
Now in the dead, and death ere all my joys:
I'll weep till tears and death have quench'd my eyes.
(Ex. Cesonia and her Attendants, with the body of the Emperor.
Val. A.
Unhappy Princess! the worst fault she had
Was an excess of Love, for one so bad
51
Whose unjust deaths, the Tyrant had decreed.
Enter Pastor, Lepidus, Philo, and the Jews.
Your fortunes and freedoms I restore.
The tyrants dead, he'll plague the World no more.
Pas.
The dreadfull Emp'ror dead! good news indeed.
Oh! to his Vices may no Prince succeed.
Enter Salome, she runs to Lepidus.
Sal.
Oh! my dear Love!
Lep.
My Love! art thou so near?
Oh! how durst thou expose thy beauty here?
Sal.
Ask me no Questions, I am mad with Joy,
And have not sence to make thee a reply.
I in distraction came to die with thee,
Die in thy arms, and find thee safe and free.
Val. A.
Go, marry; of each other take your fill;
And now you Jews, go, believe what you will.
Pas.
Yes, marry, Son; th'ast nobly earn'd my leave.
Lep.
Oh! with what joy this favour I receive.
Phi.
Most Gallant Youth, not many minutes since,
When the keen weapon of a dreadfull Prince
Was on your Father drawn, you stept between;
Such an Example we have rarely seen.
Now shall we turn the edge of Law on you?
More favour to your piety is due.
My Daughter, Sir, I to your arms resign.
Lep.
Oh! my dear Love, th'art mine.
Sal.
And thou art mine.
Val. A.
The Imperial Throne I can with ease ascend,
I know no power which can with mine contend:
But shou'd I reign, the World which thinks me proud
Will charge me with the Guilt of Cæsar's blood,
And say, the horrid Villany was done
By my command; that I might mount the throne.
I'd rather be an honest slave, I swear,
Than buy the Empire of the world so dear.
52
When I've the Senate to their right restor'd,
And reveng'd Cæsar, as our Laws require;
I'll to some quiet privacy retire,
And there disarm'd, and all my powers laid down,
I will be great in nothing but renown,
And in my solitude till death I'll mourn
Over my Martyr'd Julia's sacred Urn.
(Exeunt
FINIS.
| Caligula | |