University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A Room in Cæsar's House. Two Chairs plac'd: Calphurnia, Flavia.
CALPHURNIA.
Go, Flavia;—spread Enquiry through the Palace:
While I, prolonging Time, by every Art
Of apprehensive Love, hold Cæsar, fix'd
In Conference, till slow Torbilius comes:
Fittest Reporter of his own sad Tale,
To force Belief, and fire reluctant Vengeance.

CÆSAR.
(without)
Where is this bosom Counseller of Cæsar?

CALPHURNIA.
Fly—find Torbilius:—when he comes, touch soft
My Silver Bell, that the known Sound may war me.

[Exit Flavia.
CÆSAR.
Tis past, Calphurnia.—The try'd Faction's hatred
Repell'd obtruded Candor.

CALPHURNIA.
Shun thy Forgiveness?

CÆSAR.
Men, of contracted Views, distrust kind Meanings;
For, no Heart credits, what it cannot feel.
What frightful Story has my Dreamer, now?

CALPHURNIA.
A sad, and dreadful Truth.-No Dream-No Doubting:
He, whose dire Property the Secret rests,
Guardian of Cæsar's Life, demands his Ear.
For me—I cou'd but speak my Fears, and Follies.

CÆSAR.
Follies have Charms, when Fears, like thine, are follies:
Man may draw Profit, then, from Woman's Weakness:
And, in one tender Wife's mistaking Faith,
Find Recompence, for every Friend, that's false.

(they sit.)
CALPHURNIA.
Can there be Rest, in Danger?

CÆSAR.
Sure! There shou'd not:

CALPHURNIA.
Why is Ambition, then, too hard for Peace?
Why, always busy, to be never blest,
Does restless Cæsar sacrifice, unthank'd,
The Taste, the Quiet, the Serene, of Life,
For an ungrateful World, that hates his Bounty?

CÆSAR.
'Tis the great Mind's expected Pain, Calphurnia
To Labour for the Thankless:—He, who seeks
Reward in Ruling, makes Ambition Guilt:
And, living for Himself, disclaims Mankind.

CALPHURNIA.
Alas!—the Friend to All obliges none.

CÆSAR.
'Tis nobler to protect Mankind, than please.

CALPHURNIA.
Is it a Crime, when Virtue loves itself?

CÆSAR.
Princes shou'd widen self:—Their Power, and Heart,
Alike Receptive, must make room for All:
'Tis theirs, to Sigh, for every Sufferer's Woe;
Lend their own Joys, that others may be glad:
Think ev'en for unborn Ages; and transmit
Blessings unshar'd—and quiet, not their own.

CALPHURNIA.
Virtues, so raised, as these, but waste their Warmth,
And shine, unfelt, in Rome.—The Vulgar Eye
Sees, by its own low Level:—As Men act,
They judge: and, by corrupt Self-Interest weigh'd,
Goodness, like Heaven's, wou'd seem Self-Interest, too.

CÆSAR.
No Matter.—Virtue Triumphs, by Neglect:
Vice, while it darkens, lends but Foil, to Brightness:
And juster Times, removing Slander's Veil,
Wrong'd Merit, after Death, is help'd to live.

CALPHURNIA.
Can present Pain be cur'd, by future Ease?

CÆSAR.
Who wou'd not, once, look dim, to shine, for ever?

CALPHURNIA.
How happy is it for a Wife, who loves,
When lowlier Prospects bound her Lord's Desires,
And Home-felt Quiet fills his peaceful Heart!
Why wou'd you be a King?—wait, till some King
Aspires, to be a Cæsar:—Lend not Envy
New Props to lean against: This threat'ning Name
Beats on the Roman's unaccustom'd Ear,
Like a black Storm—and blasts the Hope of Liberty.

CÆSAR.
Never, henceforth, disturb thy gentle Breast,
With false Forebodings, from a regal Toy!
Know me above its Want:—beyond its Glory:
Given, tho' unheld, It meets the Parthian Prophesy;
Bids the rous'd Legion's superstitious Hearts
Resume lost Ardor:—and sure Victory's, Theirs.

CALPHURNIA.
Tho' Parthia fell, there's a Patrician Envy,
That, never quench'd, burns but with fiercer Blaze,
From each new Proof, that Old Injustice wrong'd thee:
Think of those Midnight Haunters of my Fancy!
Think, how I saw thee bleed, at every Vein:
While, at each spouting Stream, a murderous Roman
Stain'd his extended Arm, and roar'd for Liberty.
Cassius!—stern Cassius!—
(starting up)
—Blast him, Heaven!—methinks,
I see him, there,—full, in my Eyes, he glares!
Pale, in the horrid Transport of his Vengeance;
And, dreadfully, enjoys the ghastly Scene!—
(Kneels.)
Oh! grant thyself, to live: Grant sad Calphurnia
That Prayer:—She begs it, but for Rome, and Nature.

CÆSAR.
Why wilt thou kneel?-What coud'st thou ask, in vain!

CALPHURNIA.
Death—instant Death, to that malignant Cassius!

CÆSAR.
Since thou were't first my Wife, I never saw thee
Cruel, till this strange Moment!—Dovelike gentle,
Healing Compassion sooth'd thy Heart, to Softness:
And, on thy sparkling Eye, sat weeping Mercy.

CALPHURNIA.
'Tis Mercy, to Mankind, to punish Villains.

CÆSAR.
Rise: and relieve me, from this new Distress.

(Bell rings without.)
CALPHURNIA.
(Rising.)
I will:—And thou shalt owe to Woman's Fear
A Safety, manly Confidence had lost Thee.

CÆSAR.
How art thou heated, by an idle Dream,
To strike at fansied Guilt, with real Anger!

CALPHURNIA.
The Wife of Cæsar wrongs not, even his Foes.
Flavia! Lucilia! here—who waits, without?
(Enter a Lady.)
The Man, with whom I held Discourse, this Morning!
Bid him Re-enter.

[Exit Lady.]
CÆSAR.
Who!—What Man is this?

CALPHURNIA.
Torbilius—the sow're Satirist:—Thy Enemy.—

CÆSAR.
No Enemy of mine—if Wit's his Friend.

CALPHURNIA.
Once, when condemn'd, for libelling my Cæsar,
Thy all-permitting Mercy, not alone
Forgave—but, bad him claim distinguish'd Bounty,
Till Wit, misled, cou'd find the way to Judgment.

CÆSAR.
I know him not:—What can'st thou hope, Calphurnia,
From these slight Men?—So bold, yet, blind of Soul,
That Wit, with them, supplies the Place of Virtue;
And, censuring other's Faults, absolves their own.

CALPHURNIA.
Staying, when Portia went, his trembling Gratitude.
Pray'd Audience, in a Cause, that touch'd the Life
Of threat'ned Cæsar:—For the Rest, he comes:
Let his own Tongue retrace the horrid Tale.