University of Virginia Library

SCENE, The Palace of Marcellus.
Marcellus with his Sword drawn against Julia.
Mar.
By Heav'n I'le bear no more, 'tis publick now,
Disgrace so bold is grav'd upon thy brow,
That e'en old age, whose eyes are seldom clear,
Dim with death's mist, can read thy falshood there:
All Rome with thy proclaim'd dishonour rings,
And ev'ry Infant Julia's lewdness sings.
What can thy crimes expect from my just rage?

Jul.
Death, let my bloud your violent wrath asswage;
'Tis better we shou'd both for ever sleep
In calms, then wake in storms, and always weep.

Mar.
Weep! If the Ocean from thy eyes were spilt,
The Ocean cou'd not wash away thy guilt.
Nor think that when thy Beauties shall be laid
In Earth, thy peace is then for ever made;
No, faithless Fair! still shalt thou haunted be,
And a long row of pale Adult'rers see,
And me at last pursuing them and thee.

Jul.
Not haunting Furies there can rack me more,
Than Jealousies on earth that louder roar;
Though I shou'd make account for ev'ry thought,
While false relations are by Traytors wrought,
And you believe those most that most abuse,
'Twere vain for me my honour to excuse.

Mar.
How well your pride an innocence can feign?
Excuse your honour! That indeed's most vain;
Thy purpose vain as thy past actions foul,
Vain all thy thoughts which with wild fancies roul,
And one immortal Vanity's thy soul.

Jul.
I cannot stay to hear your vain debate.

Mar.
Pass not this way, 'tis guarded with thy fate.

Jul.
Strike then, and free me from a world of cares,
Better dye once then always live in fears:
Loud clamours all the day my peace molest,
With perjur'd, false, I hate, renounce, detest;
Still am I wak'd by day with these alarms:
At night you start, and throw me from your arms.
Last night your head upon my breast reposd,
Just as sweet balmy sleep my eyes had clos'd,
Hearing me sigh, you cry'd aloud, By Heav'n
Those sighs are to your dear lov'd Ovid giv'n;
But I will conjure him from Pontus back,
And his curs'd life by thousand torments take.

Mar.
O Julia, is there not a cause for this?
Thou sayst I rob thy days and nights of peace,
Hast thou not robb'd my life of all its bliss?
Heav'n witness what I am, and what have been;
What thou hast done, how gloried in thy sin,
How triumph'd in thy ills.—

Jul.
What I have done
Shall to no mortal, not to you be known:

Mar.
I'le know.

Jul.
Ye shall not.

Mar.
With this sure I shall;
I'le open ev'ry vein and know thee all.

Jul.
Strike;—to thy vengeance summon all the lies
Which false Tiberius malice cou'd devise.

Mar.
I've summon'd all he told with loyal breath,
And all those truths doom thee to sudden death.

Jul.
Why then dost thou not strike, revenging Lord!
Behold my breast prepar'd to meet thy Sword;
Thy cruel kindness thus it shall approve,
Naked to Anger, as it was to Love.
Why shrinks thy arm as if it fear'd to wound,
And drops thy coward weapon to the ground?

Mar.
I know thee false, yet have no power to harm;
Fierce passion my arm'd vengeance does disarm:
Beauty which through thy vice I cou'd not spy,
Did like a dang'rous foe in Ambush lye.
Here, Julia, execute thy bloudy will,
I know thy purpose is at last to kill:
Be but thus kind, life freely I resign;
Thou'rt born to break all hearts, and must break mine.

Jul.
No, my Marcellus, trust me from this hour
You shall be ever my Lord Conquerour;
Thou ever wert the dearest of mankind,
But now my heart is to thy looks confin'd.
By all our Loves you never were betray'd,
Henceforth be absolute, my breast invade,
There like a gentle Monarch thou shalt sway,
And I with gentler mind thy Laws obey.

Mar.
Prove but thy heart as heav'nly as thy tongue,
Be but thus good, and I had never wrong.

Enter Cæsario bloudy, leading Gloriana veil'd, follow'd by Leander, Araspes.
Mar.
My noble brother! what can friendship say
Which from my arms absented half a day?
Together still in Battel we did ride,
Nor cou'd united Troops the link divide;
Shall Peace dis-joyn what was not broke by War,
And Crowds in Courts do more then Armies there?

Cæs.
Now I shall try the friendship which you boast;
If now not found, let it be ever lost.
This Beauty with some bloud and danger bought,
(Great deeds for Beauty by young bloud are wrought)
I from the den of an old Beast of prey
Snatch'd, while abroad he did for forage stray.
By this he is return'd, and finds her gone;
By this the Groves resound, and Forests groan.

Mar.
Thus in your cause advancing thus I'le face
A band of Bloud-hound Furies in their chase.

Cæs.
First let us lodge where they shall never find,
The Hart whose death those Hunters have design'd;
Then with Relays each to his station go,
And bravely fall upon the Savage foe:
Our Bugle breath shall wind Recheats, and tell
'Tis not the Deers, but the rouz'd Hunter's knell.

Jul.
While you that Vertue might not be undone
Look'd fierce, methought my brows too catch'd a frown;
I burn'd and grew ambitious to be one.
Whoe're she be, as sure she is most fair,
For whom the sounds of fame so busie are,
I promise her a covert where she shall,
Safe as in clouds, look down upon 'em all.

Cæs.
O bounty which my bloud can never pay!
I wou'd do all, yet I must something say;
What Hell-born envy, curs'd Infernal spight,
So us'd to darkness that it hates the light,
Shall dare though silence she with pain endures,
Traduce a Vertue so renown'd as yours?
By Heav'n I swear, and by this faithful Steel,
So deep in Beautie's conqu'ring quarrel dy'd,
I stand your Champion to your cause ally'd,
To damn those Slaves that have your fame bely'd.

Enter Narcissa running.
Nar.
Fly, fly, you're lost, the Empire's overthrown!
Fly Plangus, fly Sir, murder'd Cæsar Son
Not stir! By all my fears, most cruel Prince,
Thou shalt not stay and dye, I'le drag thee hence.
The Captain whom your valour left for dead,
Heard your discourse, and has relation made.
All's out, thou art betray'd, O Heav'n! undone,
What shall I say? thy name, thy birth is known;
Destruction gallops to thy murder Post,
And Cæsar looks as if the World were lost.

Cæs.
Though driv'n by whirlwinds he shou'd roul like fire,
I wou'd not from this Earth one inch retire;
Let destiny about my death consult,
All thoughts of safety from my side revolt,
I'le stand him though he were a Thunderbolt.

Mar.
Perhaps my pray'rs and low submissions may
Divert his wrath, or his revenge delay.

Jul.
With yours my mingled tears and sighs shall joyn,
He may resist yours, but he shall not mine.

Nar.
But if inflexibly he will deny,
Together let us all resolve to dye.

Glo.
Since this secures my honour, can I fear?
Not Martyrs with more joy their summons hear.
Methinks I long in those dark walks to tread,
And wrap my self about with honour'd Lead,
Where all the Worthies of the Earth lye dead.
Nor shall my Spirit in that pond'rous Case
Be kept, but shoot as rays through Chrystal pass;
Through doors of death, with Mountains pil'd on Rocks,
With thousand Bars, and with ten thousand Locks,
Like Lightning she shall cut her sacred way
Through all, and rise to everlasting day.

Nar.
What Spirit's this more fierce than boldest men,
That with such hautiness does life disdain?

Cæs.
O death! thou ever dry bloud-thirsty Slave,
All! Hell-hound, all art thou resolv'd to have?
But tast my heart, 'tis Royal, rich and good,
Each drop's more worth than Tuns of Vulgar blood.
Cannot th'exhausted shore for once suffice?
I'le make it up with Rivers from their eyes;
Tears will not make him drunk, the Slave replies.

Glo.
Can this be true, Cæsario, dost thou droop?
Dost thou at last beneath death's burden stoop?
Is this the Hero, this the God-like man
Whose rage the stout Iberians over-ran?
That me redeem'd this day from rav'nous pow'r,
And from the pounces of the Vulture tore?

Cæs.
O Gloriana! with confusion I
Confess 'tis now a dreadfull thing to dye:
Your fatal purpose does to pieces tear
That courage which all dangers else can dare.
O live, retire, and those blest Beauties hide,
Far from the reach of Cæsar's cruel pride;
Then I shall easily death's yoke put on,
And calm as those that fall asleep lye down.

Glo.
Cæsario, No, unjust is thy request,
[puts up her veil, Narcissa observes her.
Why shou'd I wake when thou art gon to rest?
And since I love thee, which I now may own,
The fastest secrets are by death undone,
What will life signifie when thou art gone?
Grant that I 'scape the Tyrant's rage, and fly
To some strange Land, and leave you here to dye,
Shall I survive to blot thee from my mind?
Forget thee? Or to one less brave be kind?
Is this thy wish? or wouldst thou I shou'd live
And thy eternal loss for ever grieve?

Cæs.
Live, dye, be free, or yield your self again,
I will no more of you, but Heav'n complain;
Heav'n that can see such Vertue in distress,
And with exceeding power a Tyrant bless;
Heav'n that cou'd smile when noblest Romans fell,
As if enormous cruelties were well;
Heav'n that allows this parricide a name
As great and good as the first Sons of Fame.

Nar.
Love sparkles through her shade:
His eyes to her, and hers to him are mov'd,
She loves, she loves and is again belov'd;
She sighs and weeps, and rouls her subtle eyes,
And all the charms of knowing beauty trys:
She looks as if her very eyes wou'd speak,
As if (ah wou'd it might) her heart wou'd break.
But Cæsar comes, some other time I'le take
To tell my wrongs, his life is now at stake.

Enter Augustus, Captain, Agrippa, Mecænas, Guards.
Capt.
Hither I follow'd 'em with cautious view.

Aug.
Mecænas, let him have the Talents due.
Lo where the Ravisher undaunted stands,
As if encompass'd with a thousand Bands;
Bold as Briareus warring in Heav'ns Field,
When fifty flaming Swords his arms did weild,
And fifty Shields expos'd to thunder held.
O my Agrippa! shou'd I view him long,
I shou'd forget, forgive the mighty wrong;
In that Majestick glance, and fiery ayre,
Methinks our awfull Father does appear.

Agr.
Something less fierce his visage does renew,
Such beams from beauteous Cleopatra flew,
When sighing Kings to Ægypt's Court she drew.

Cæs.
Yes, my renown'd extraction I declare,
I am by birth what you adopted are,
The King of Kings, and the World's lawfull Heir.

Aug.
Such you were nam'd by Anthony indeed,
But the great Cæsar otherwise decreed.

Cæs.
What he intended who but Heav'n can tell?
Scarce seated from th'Imperial Throne he fell:
He stood on Atlas shoulders unaffraid
Some minutes, and the trampled Globe survey'd;
Fill'd with vast business, and with thoughts profound,
He had not leisure for a prospect round,
For e're to Ægypt's Queen he could be just,
That head which Stars encompass'd, kiss'd the dust.

Aug.
Yet to make void whatever you can say,
And dash your boldest hopes that fly at sway,
By his last Will, which was to Romans shewn,
I was ordain'd to mount and fill his Throne,
To scourge the World, and awe mankind alone.

Cæs.
I no Imperial Herald am, to find
The source of pow'r, nor how its riv'lets winde;
Yet this I know, your latter boast was vain,
Cæsar had ne're adopted you to reign,
Had he known me, who from the womb was past,
And first saw light when he beheld it last.

Aug.
When conqu'ring Cæsar Pompey did pursue,
And in his cause the Memphian Tyrant slew,
He bought your Mothers love with Ægypts Crown,
And with her at a Kingdoms price lay down.
But having surfeited with Beauties ioys,
For Beauty much possess'd extremely cloys,
Scar'd with his shame he wak'd to Warrs alarms,
He left her pregnant, and he rush'd to Arms.
'Twas God-like, and he imitated Jove,
Who with excessive thundring tir'd above,
Comes down for ease, enjoys a Nymph, and then
Mounts dreadful and to thundring goes again.

Cæs.
Talkst thou of her basely that gave me birth,
The most illustrious Empress of the earth,
Whose smiles Kings did with adorations crave?
By Heav'n she wou'd have scorn'd thee for her Slave.
Name not thy humbler bloud, nor let it be
Compar'd to mine, no more than I to thee;
Who am to thee, nor will I me commend,
A God all o're, and thou all o're a Fiend.

Aug.
You speak, Cæsario, with as little dread,
As if you were at some vast Armie's head;
Were it not that I rev'rence Cæsar's blood,
Thus long you had not disrespectful stood.

Cæs.
O counterfeit! O Crocodile of Pow'r!
Not woman e're dissembled thus before.
Thou reverence Cæsar's blood—
Thou who didst never ought that's gen'rous do,
Who never didst forgive a noble foe,
Me wouldst thou make believe thou canst be kind?
I know th'hypocrisie, thy dev'lish mind,
Which holds thy Angel-colours high to shew,
But art all ruine, blood and Hell below.

Aug.
Who e're was thus provok'd and cou'd forbear?
Be witness all, himself he will not spare.

Cæs.
No, Tyrant, no, I will in publick dye,
And once at least expose thy cruelty;
The murders which thou hitherto hast done
Were acted close, their Authors rarely known;
But I will perish in the view of all,
And to my last gasp Tyrant, Tyrant call.

Aug.
Pardon me, Father, and just rage forgive,
I offer life which he cannot receive,
He's so Heroick that he will not live.
'Tis his desire, and for this one last hour
I have decreed he shall be Emperour;
His Majestie's resolv'd you heard him say,
Guards go and his Imperial will obey.

Cæs.
Let 'em come on, 'tis sport that I have try'd
In hundred Battels, thousand deaths defy'd,
And now in all their horrours can deride.

[draws.
(As the Guards prepare to fall on, Marcellus draws.)
Mar.
Restrain your fury, barb'rous men! take heed,
By Cæsar he that goes not back shall bleed.

Aug.
What now? Marcellus! Darst thou Traytor draw
Thy Sword against thy Father? where's the awe,
The Majesty this face was wont to bear?

Mar.
'Twere Cowardice in such a cause to fear:
No, Cæsar, either grant my Friend his life,
Or see me perish in the noble strife.

Aug.
Do, perish, dye; is't possible that thou
Shouldst call him Friend, who is thy Father's Foe?
He who thy only Rival is in power,
Dost thou not know he wou'd thy life devour?
Who Serpent-like does to thy bosom spring,
And with warm foldings does about thee cling,
Watching his time when he may shew his sting.

Cæs.
This such a baseness is, so black a guilt,
As all the Seas of bloud which thou hast spilt,
With all thy clouds of Lusts can't parallel,
Thou dost in falshood now thy self excel:
But shou'd Marcellus harbour such a thought,
I am to something worse than ruine brought.

Mar.
Tax not my loyalty, you are too just
The firmness of my Friendship to mistrust;
I am all yours, and you stand here as fair
And fast as e're you stood in shining War;
As I have seen you in bright Steel sustain
The shock of Troops that made assaults in vain.

Aug.
Ungratefull wretch! unworthy of a Throne!
By Heav'n I will adopt another Son:
Canst thou thy right to Kingdoms give away,
Thy self and him who rais'd thee thus betray?
Forget what sweating pains, what bloudy toils
We bore, adorn'd our Arms with Nations spoils;
Yet with our utmost reach scarce grasp'd a Crown,
Glory than Empire is much easier won:
Empire's like Heav'n, which who wou'd bravely win,
Must Giant-like with high assault begin;
Heap Hills on Mountains, Project add to Plot,
Till huge foundation for the work be wrought:
And as he climbs, at Stars that cross him frown,
And tear 'em fast as petty Princes down.
Thus through all opposition must he pass
O're walls of Chrystal, battlements of Brass,
Till Majesty cries out, This, This alone
Is he who Heav'n becomes, and fits a Throne.

Cæs.
Thou talkst of cruelty, of bloud and toil,
Yet having hunted me into the toil,
My Lion rage with words far off you brave,
But come not nigh for fear you find a Grave.

Aug.
Disarm Marcellus, and Cæsario slay;
Kill him, hast, kill him without more delay.

(Julia and Narcissa interpose and kneel.)
Jul.
Hold, Father.

Nar.
Hold.

Jul.
Let me your wrath at one.

Nar.
O hear the Sister of your once lov'd Son.

Jul.
Your daughter hear.

[They come forward on their knees.
Nar.
As you are great be good.

Jul.
And hear the voice of your own crying blood.

Aug.
Treason! Conspiracy! they have combin'd
With knit disloyalty to break my mind,
To wast my spirits, and to bow my will;
Yet like an old tough Oak I'le hold out still:
Spight of the sighs that blow, and showrs that weep,
My soul to death shall her vow'd purpose keep.
Speak, break your hearts, the Gusts of grief I'le tire,
Like hammer'd Anvile I'le more blows require,
That at each stroke my eyes may scatter fire.

Nar.
By all the God-like honours you have won.

Jul.
By all the Nations that you have undone.

Nar.
Stop here, the Tempest of your fury lay,
Do not the Earth with lasting storms dismay.

Jul.
Or to your rouling Thunder give a check,
Or let the cloud upon your daughter break.

Aug.
Yes, Vipers! yes, by Jupiter it shall!
I'le lighten, thunder, and consume ye all.
Kill 'em, Guards, kill my Neece, my Daughter, Son;
'Tis glorious death they seek, hast, push 'em on.
Ha! Villains,—Traytors, dare ye thus give back?
My self in my own cause revenge will take.
[Agrippa and Mecænas hold him.
Though bloud's below an Emperour to spill,
I'le first disarm 'em, and then you shall kill.
[Strives to get from Agrippa.
Thus an old Lion struggles with his prey,
Which when all torn his flaming eyes survey,
The Royal Savage scorns the easie prize,
And calls his young ones forth with dreadfull cries;
He gathers round him all the cruel brood,
Thus calls 'em on, and fleshes 'em in blood.

[Breaks from their arms, Gloriana unveils and meets him.]
Glor.
Augustus, hold, and Cæsar's Son retire,
'Tis just that I for all shou'd once expire;
Cæsario but for me you ne're had known,
Who sav'd my life by hazarding his own.
Because Cæsario has my honour freed,
Your doom has sentenc'd him and these to bleed:
Which to avoid, and set all right again,
Cæsar, I yield to wear my former chain.

Cæs.
Ah cruel Princess! what, what have you don?
And whither wou'd you from Cæsario run?
All's lost for which I thought life worth regard;
You have your self transferr'd that dear reward
Which I with thousand dangers wou'd have bought,
You have your self my sharpest torments wrought.
Death I cou'd meet in its most hideous forms,
In brazen Bulls, in racks, wheels, fires, and storms,
But cannot see you his:—Here, Tyrant, take
(renders his Sword.
A life that does its own disquiets make.
To her vexation, terrour 'tis to thee,
But of all torments 'tis the worst to me.

Aug.
I take thy Sword, and when I think it fit,
Thy soul her melancholly house shall quit.

Glor.
By all Heroick proofs of your high fame,
When yours I cease to be, I nothing am:
Conceal'd exalted projects fill my mind,
I had not else to Cæsar thus resign'd
What is all yours.

Cæs.
By Heav'n you are all his,
Already he is hastning to his bliss.
How to your self unkind, to me unjust,
That wou'd to one so known a Tyrant trust;
I see his eyes red with Triumphant lust.
I see him from your sacred body tear
The scatter'd Robes in your dishevel'd hair;
I see his bloudy hand, I hear his tongue
Cry Yield, and now I see you thrown along;
Hands tir'd, speech lost, no Rhet'rick now appears,
But speaking sighs, and more perswading tears:
Now grasping thee my fancy shews him nigher,
Pale as thy cheeks, and shaking with desire,
I see him on thy vanquish'd honour tread,
I see the Rape, and with the sight am dead.

Aug.
Death!—I'le endure no more, hast, lead her hence;
And Guards, upon your lives secure the Prince.
How darst thou gaze thus now thy doom is past?

Cæs.
I'le look my soul out.

Aug.
Do, this look's thy last.
To rack thee more, thou shalt look once again,
And pass by Heav'n to Hell; 'tis witty pain,
And worthy of a King's revengeful brain.
As obscene Birds snatch the remains of light,
Rise late in Summer-Eves, and set in Night;
So like a Bat thou shalt her eyes survey,
Then in death's deepest darkness dive away.

(He goes out, follow'd by Marcellus, Julia, Narcissa, who seem to intreat him; Guards stay.)
Cæs.
O Gloriana!

Glor.
O Cæsario!

Cæs.
Cease;
Let's seal our lips with everlasting peace:
Griefs so unutterable who can speak?

Glor.
Have we hearts still?

Cæs.
Grant Heav'n that mine may break.

Glor.
Cæsario, we must part.

Cæs.
Gods! she's in hast,
The time the Tyrant gave she wishes past.

Glor.
Cæsar's commands will instantly be sent,
'Tis better to divide than to be rent.
How much I love—

Cæs.
That I wou'd dying hear,
And to the shades the sweet expressions bear.

Glor.
Why shou'd you wish what cannot be exprest,
But guess my flame by that which warms your breast?
Love's magnitude is harder to declare,
Than 'tis to tell the bigness of a Star.
This I can say, if that can passion shew,
With you I'd rather to a Cottage go,
Than with Augustus live and wear a Crown;
'Tis death to part,—and yet I must be gone.
This though I know, I cannot but look back,
And sigh adieus, and thousand farewells take.
I linger after you, and wish your sight,
Like Birds that languish for the morning light:
Like Babes unkindly wean'd, that take no rest,
But bath'd in tears lye pining for the breast;
I seek your heart, and when I find it gone,
I weep and sigh as I wou'd break my own.

Cæs.
'Tis Love, 'tis Love the great dear extasie,
And I with Raptures find you equal me.
O that such Loves shou'd have so quick a doom!
Like lives of Lillies, blasted in their bloom:
Yet we'l appear in this last minute strong,
And talk as if our joys shou'd flourish long:
We, like protesting Swains, will plight our faith,
And wish that when we break, our perjur'd breath
May strait be stop'd by the cold hand of death.

Glor.
If not to death my passion I preserve,
And all the Love which you can give deserve,
Though from their seats the Rival Gods came down,
And each shou'd wooe me with a Starry Crown;
Though the fine Sun, or finer God of Love,
Shou'd swear they priz'd me more than joys above;
Yet if to them in all the beams they wear,
I did not thee in humble weeds prefer,
May Lions bolting from the nearest Wood,
Quench their hot thirst in Gloriana's blood.

Cæs.
If thou more fair then the red mornings dawn,
Sweeter then Pearley dews that scent the lawn;
Then blue-ey'd Violets, or the damask Rose,
When in her hottest fragrancy she glows,
And the cool West her wafted odour blows;
If thou art not the darling of my soul,
May Mountains big with curses on me roul.

Glor.
On me may Lightnings fall, and Mildews rain,
And may I dye at last of Mother's pain.

Cæs.
May Jove showr all his Thunders on my head,
And may I be despis'd when I am dead;
Then as I lye all pale upon the ground,
May ev'ry Virgin give my breast a wound;
May no eye pity me, nor heart deplore
That faithless wretch who his first Love forswore.

Exeunt.